60. "No. No! You are not allowed to be that much of an idiot!"
Harry walked into the Dursley's household with an air of contentment. Pleased with the enjoyable evening he had spent with Teleute, he nearly skipped to the Dursleys' front door. His mood immediately clashed against that of the household.
To his befuddlement, Dudley was actually home at this hour. He typically hung out with his gang of schoolyard thugs. Not only that, but his other relatives weren't watching the telly or on the phone. Instead, Vernon and Petunia were marching around enraged and weeping in a handkerchief respectively.
Harry walked past them and began his ascension to his room. Whatever happened would be best kept between close loved ones. Intruders would only be an unnecessary concern and distraction.
"You aren't going anywhere boy" Vernon said with no little amount of venom. "T-This has to be the doing of your kind. My boy was as fit as a fiddle, now look at him! You better have not been a part of this business."
Harry shifted his focus to Dudley. The boy's skin was clammy and his eyes seemed to be lifeless. It was a darkly remarkable sight. "This is the first time I've seen him all day. Despite what you may believe, I haven't made it my life task to bring misery to your son. He stays away from me, and I do the same. Instead of pointing fingers at me, you should focus more on him, he looks sick. You should probably send him to the hospital." Harry turned to continue his journey to his room. As per usual, time spent at the Dursleys had a way of souring any good mood of his.
Petunia tightly gripped his wrist, her own hands shaking repeatedly. "His friends said he just dropped to the ground for no reason. It doesn't make sense, especially since my Dudley has been getting healthier." She looked prepared to break down at his feet.
Honestly, Harry wasn't quite sure why she was explaining any of this to him. Their familial bonds were, at best, strained. More than anything, he felt uncomfortable from her behavior. Her actions were something he would've have expected from Mrs. Weasley if one of her children were ill.
It was all very unusual and Harry didn't quite know what to make of it.
Besides, what could he do that wouldn't be freaky? Would freakishness that benefited them be accepted? It wouldn't be their first act of hypocrisy.
Pulling away from her grip, he examined Dudley closely.
Vernon and Petunia shuffled uneasily as his eyes glowed an unnatural green and stared intently at their son.
Harry grimaced at what he saw. Chain like remnants of magic draped Dudley's being. He could faintly make out flickers of smoke coming from Dudley's lips. Said smoke was slowly fading out. This condition was identical to his godfather's, only worse. Unlike Sirius, Dudley had no means in which to protect himself. In dark humor, he realized that by some technical standard that Dudley had a soul.
"Dudley has been kissed by a dark creature called a Dementor. Their kisses drain the soul of their victims" Harry spoke in an analytical nature, more preoccupied over the appearance of said creature than Dudley's condition. He barely registered the alarmed expression on the Dursley's faces.
"D-Do something!" Vernon voice demanded, nearly choking in desperation.
Harry wasn't sure what they expected of him, and if he even wanted to meet said expectations. This was an atypical situation. He and the members of the household liked to pretend the other didn't exist. If he was quite honest with himself, he found it hard to believe that they actually cared about their son outside of public appearances. It was a very Weasley like thing to care so deeply about family.
Dudley's breathing slowed further and his parents' panic increased.
A part of Harry was ashamed that he didn't jump to his cousin's rescue, with concern aching from his heart. Another berated him for giving them the time of day. "I could send a letter for help. Someone should know what to do."
"W-Well? What are you waiting for, go do it!" Petunia was nearly beside herself, nearly twisting her handkerchief into pieces.
Quite used to dismissals of this nature, he picked up the pace to his room.
Once in the comfort of his bedroom, he sat on his bed. He pulled out some parchment and ink to prepare writing a letter. Hedwig, who had been standing idly on his bedpost, fluttered to his shoulder.
"Hey, Hedwig. I need you to send this letter to Dumbledore. It's for the Dursleys." Harry began folding his letter.
Hedwig didn't seem enthusiastic about the venture. Nevertheless, she had her pride and took the letter. With some promises of food, she left out the window.
Should everything work out, Harry felt that the Dursleys weren't going to be grateful. Though, he would be a fool to expect anything else.
