Harry Wayne and the Batman of Hogwarts
Chapter 29: Prisoner of Arkham
The wind cut through the streets of London like a blade, its icy tendrils reaching into Harry's bones as he walked, a storm brewing inside him. The weight of Cornelius Fridge's words hung heavily over him, impossible to shake. It had been a long, painful road to get to this point, but now Harry knew what he had to do. The truth was within his grasp, but the road to uncovering it would be treacherous. He had to find Sionis, confront him, and learn everything. Only then could he set the pieces of his past in motion, right the wrongs, and find peace.
The streets were eerily quiet as Harry moved forward, his breath misting in the night air. He was alone in the world, chasing ghosts, but something told him he wasn't truly alone. The dark shadows whispered in his mind as he made his way toward the destination Cornelius had whispered to him—an abandoned manor just outside of London.
The manor, half-hidden behind thick ivy and the overgrowth of trees, loomed in the distance. Harry felt the magic in the air before he even saw it. There was something ancient about the place, as if it had been untouched by time. But Harry wasn't here to admire the scenery. He needed answers.
The iron gates were rusted and crumbled, barely holding together. With a few subtle gestures, Harry disabled the warding spell protecting the manor, slipping through the creaky gates into the eerie stillness that waited within. The trees seemed to bend toward him, their bare branches scraping the air like skeletal fingers. Every step he took toward the front doors was a step closer to the truth.
With a sharp, deliberate motion, Harry pushed open the heavy doors of the manor. Inside was a world frozen in time, dust layering the floor and the furniture, cobwebs clinging to forgotten corners. Yet, the air was thick with magic—a lingering presence of something far darker than the dust and decay that had overtaken the building.
The manor was a labyrinth of corridors and rooms, but Harry wasn't searching blindly. Every step he took felt guided, as if the very walls themselves were whispering secrets. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Harry found what he was looking for—a heavy wooden chest hidden in a back room, tucked behind an old bookshelf. A dark magic lingered here, warning him of the importance of whatever lay inside.
He cast an unlocking charm, a door creaked open.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by a voice—low, hoarse, and full of bitterness.
"Well, well… I thought it would be you, Harry Wayne."
Harry spun around, his wand drawn instinctively. The figure before him was tall, gaunt, and disheveled, his eyes shadowed by years of isolation and suffering. Sionis Black stood there, his appearance ragged, his body showing signs of neglect and torment during his years at Arkham. Despite his gaunt appearance, there was a strange power that emanated from him, a power restrained and held captive by the iron mask still bolted to his face.
"You've come for answers," Sionis continued, his voice rough but steady. "But be warned, Harry. The truth may not be what you want."
Harry's pulse quickened, the words echoing through him. He had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, he wasn't sure how to begin.
"Why?" Harry's voice was raw with emotion. "Why did you kill my parents? What reason could you have?"
Sionis chuckled darkly, the sound bitter and hollow. "I didn't. I've been framed, Harry. Just like you were taught to believe."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean? How could you not have?"
"I didn't kill your parents. Langston Pettigrew did," Sionis said, his eyes flashing with anger. "Pettigrew, helped Ra's al Ghul to commit the crime. He set me up to take the fall, to be the perfect scapegoat."
The words hit Harry like a punch to the gut. "Langston Pettigrew? But why? Why would he do that?"
Sionis lowered his gaze, as though recalling the dark days when he had been trapped in Pettigrew's game. "Pettigrew wanted power. He used me as a pawn in his twisted plot. He helped Ra's al Ghul kill your parents and make it look like I was the one responsible. He knew I was a danger to him, so he used my Animagus form, my ability to turn into a giant black dog, against me. He bolted this mask onto my face, trapping me in a form I could never escape. It stopped me from transforming and kept me powerless."
Harry's breath caught in his throat as the realization began to sink in. "So… you never had a chance to fight back?"
Sionis's face twisted with frustration, his eyes narrowing. "No, I didn't. This mask was designed to keep me weak. It kept me from stopping Pettigrew. It kept me from saving your parents."
Harry looked at the mask, his anger boiling over. The injustice of it all was almost too much to comprehend. Sionis had been nothing more than a pawn in a much larger game, and now, the truth was out. Pettigrew had killed his parents—Pettigrew had orchestrated everything.
He stepped forward, his heart pounding. "So why didn't you tell someone? Why didn't you fight back?"
Sionis's eyes darkened, and he raised a hand to his face, feeling the iron mask with a grimace. "I tried. Every day, I tried. But this mask is enchanted, Harry. Bolted on by Pettigrew's twisted magic. It's kept me from being who I truly am. It's kept me locked away."
The weight of Sionis's words hung heavily in the air, and Harry felt his rage shift to a deeper understanding. This wasn't Sionis's fault. He had been a victim, just like Harry. And now, they were bound by the same fate—bound by the manipulation of Pettigrew, the true enemy.
The air in the manor crackled with tension. Harry stood, his heart pounding in his chest, as Sionis Black slowly revealed the truth about his parents' deaths—the blame had been placed on him by Langston Pettigrew, the true mastermind behind the entire conspiracy. The mask that Sionis had worn for so long, bolted tightly onto his face, had kept him from using his full powers, and now Harry understood that this was the very thing that had allowed Pettigrew to escape unscathed, manipulating everyone from the shadows.
But before Harry could process the magnitude of what he had just learned, the shadows of the manor stirred, and a low voice, dripping with malice, emerged from the darkness.
"Well, well, Harry Wayne," Langston Pettigrew sneered, stepping from the shadows with an air of cocky arrogance. "I see you've uncovered the truth. But, unfortunately for you, it's far too late for you to do anything about it."
Harry's heart raced as Pettigrew stepped forward. The man's body began to twist and distort unnaturally, his limbs elongating and his back hunching as though some monstrous transformation was about to take place. In mere moments, Pettigrew's features shifted entirely, and his eyes glowed with an eerie red light as a deep growl rumbled from his throat.
Pettigrew had transformed—into something far more horrifying.
His face became grotesque, elongated with fangs jutting out like a monstrous predator. His hands morphed into taloned claws, his fingers sharp and lethal. Bat-like wings unfurled from his back, stretching wide and causing the ground to tremble with the sheer force of the transformation. A shriek of unholy fury pierced the air as the full Man-Bat emerged from the shadows, towering over them, its monstrous form flickering in the dim light like a nightmare given flesh.
Sionis and Harry stood together, momentarily stunned by the horrific creature before them. The sheer scale of Pettigrew's transformation was terrifying. His massive wings flapped once, sending a gust of wind that nearly knocked Harry off his feet. His claws scraped the stone floor with a sickening screech as he advanced toward them, growling low in his throat. The room seemed to pulse with malevolent energy as Pettigrew's red eyes locked onto Harry.
"Now, you die," Pettigrew snarled, his voice a mix of human and monstrous growl. "Both of you."
Before Harry could react, Pettigrew lunged at them. His wings slashed through the air with terrifying speed, and in one fluid motion, he was on top of them. The force of the strike sent Harry stumbling backward, barely managing to roll out of the way. Sionis, in his human form, staggered to his feet, but the Man-Bat was fast—too fast.
The creature's claws raked the air, aiming directly for Harry's chest. He raised his wand instinctively, casting a defensive shield charm just in time. The magical barrier shimmered as Pettigrew's claws scraped against it with a deafening screech, but the force of the impact pushed Harry back, making him crash into a nearby stone pillar. His vision swam as he struggled to regain his bearings, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Harry, we need to act fast!" Sionis's voice broke through the chaos, full of urgency. Harry looked up to see Sionis's expression twisted in determination. Harry cast an unlocking spell and the iron mask fell from Sionis' face. He was already running toward Pettigrew, shifting in and out of his Animagus form—a massive black dog, leaping through the air and aiming for Pettigrew's throat.
But Pettigrew was quicker. With a twisted cackle, he swung his wings violently, knocking Sionis away mid-leap. The dog yelped as it was flung across the room, crashing into the far wall with a sickening thud. Harry felt a pang of fear for the man-turned-dog, but there was no time to check on him. Pettigrew was already charging back toward him.
"Move!" Sionis shouted, pushing himself to his feet with great effort. His black dog form, though formidable, was no match for Pettigrew's speed, and he knew it. But Harry wasn't about to give up.
He pushed himself to his feet, shaking off the disorientation from the impact with the pillar. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any way to turn the tide of the battle. The Man-Bat's wings flapped again, creating gusts of wind that threatened to knock him off balance. Pettigrew advanced, closing the distance with terrifying speed, and Harry raised his wand once more.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, sending a powerful disarming charm toward Pettigrew. The blast hit the Man-Bat square in the chest, but it barely made him flinch. Pettigrew's twisted grin grew wider, his eyes flashing with malice.
"That won't stop me, Harry," Pettigrew growled, his wings propelling him forward.
With a terrifying screech, Pettigrew lunged, his claws aimed for Harry's throat. Time seemed to slow as the creature descended upon him. Harry instinctively threw up a barrier spell, but it wasn't enough. Pettigrew's claws ripped through it as though it were paper, and Harry felt the sharp sting of his talons scraping against his skin. A shout of pain escaped him as blood spurted from the gash, but he couldn't afford to falter.
He couldn't give in.
Harry's mind raced. He couldn't keep defending forever. He needed a plan. He needed a way to end this.
A sudden, unfamiliar feeling surged within him, deep in his chest. His back felt like it was on fire. A strange, aching pull radiated from his spine, and Harry gasped as he felt his body shift in a way he never had before. His fingers twitched, and then, with a sickening crack, a pair of dark, bat-like wings exploded from his back. The sensation was excruciating, but Harry gritted his teeth and pushed through it.
It felt…wrong, but right at the same time. He wasn't sure how he was doing it, but somehow, his magic was responding. He was flying—actually flying.
With a shout, Harry pushed himself into the air, his wings flapping painfully but powerfully. He rose above Pettigrew, his heart racing as he realized what had just happened. He had no idea how he had summoned the wings, especially without the Belt of Chiroptera, but there was no time to question it now.
Above him, Pettigrew screeched in fury as his wings flapped to meet him. The two airborne combatants clashed in mid-air, their claws slashing through the air. Harry's bat wings tore at the air with every movement, his instincts guiding him through the chaotic battle. But Pettigrew was relentless, diving at Harry with incredible speed, his massive wings beating the air in time with every strike.
Harry dodged just in time, feeling the wind from Pettigrew's wing nearly knock him out of the sky. His heart pounded in his chest as he banked hard to the left, barely missing another swipe from the creature's claws. His wings flapped harder, pushing him higher into the air, giving him the altitude he needed.
Sionis, in his massive black dog form, charged again, but this time, he aimed for Pettigrew's vulnerable back. With a roar, he lunged and sank his teeth into the Man-Bat's wing, causing Pettigrew to screech in pain. The distraction was enough. Harry saw his opportunity.
He pushed himself downward, his bat wings carrying him like a blur, and with a flick of his wand, he cast a powerful binding spell that wrapped around Pettigrew's legs, constricting him. The Man-Bat roared in frustration, thrashing against the magic.
With Sionis still clinging to Pettigrew's back, the creature's movements were slowing, but Harry knew they didn't have much time before Pettigrew regained control.
"Now!" Harry shouted to Sionis.
With a forceful push, Sionis tore into Pettigrew's wing again, his powerful jaws locking onto the monster's shoulder. At the same time, Harry gathered his remaining strength and hurled a powerful burst of magic—directly at the center of Pettigrew's chest. The explosion of energy blasted through the creature's body, sending it crashing to the ground.
The battle was over. Pettigrew, defeated, was no longer the Man-Bat. He reverted to his human form, unconscious and battered, sprawled on the cold stone floor.
Harry hovered above, his wings still beating heavily, his chest heaving with exhaustion. He looked down at Sionis, who had transformed back into his human form, panting heavily.
"We did it," Sionis breathed, looking down at Pettigrew. "It's over."
Harry nodded, though his mind still buzzed with questions. The truth had been revealed, but it had come at a cost. They had won the battle, but the war was far from over.
Cornelius Fridge's Last Desperate Attempt
The dimly lit room was silent, save for the soft creaking of the ancient wooden floorboards as Cornelius Fridge paced back and forth, his mind a storm of thoughts. He hadn't been able to sleep in days, not since Harry Wayne's unexpected visit and the chaos it had brought with it. The boy had done something to Marge—a curse, a spell, something that had left her floating helplessly, suspended above the ground, unable to touch the floor, unable to do anything.
Fridge's heart ached at the sight of her, drifting helplessly in the air, her eyes wide with terror, her mouth silent but trembling as though calling out for help, but unable to voice it. Her hands reached down, but her feet were unable to find purchase, as though gravity itself had turned against her.
She had been his obsession for years, and now that he had finally brought her into his life, he would do anything to keep her there. He couldn't let her stay like this. Not when there was a chance to save her. He had to save her.
But the problem was far more complicated than simply undoing a spell. The curse that held Marge was unlike anything Cornelius had ever seen. It was ancient magic, powerful and cruel. His cold magic—his own ability to control ice and frost—wasn't enough to break it. The forces that bound her were beyond even his mastery.
He had tried everything—rituals, incantations, charms—but nothing worked. He had even gone so far as to research forbidden Dark Magic, the kind that whispered of power beyond reason and consequences beyond measure. And now, standing at the edge of the abyss, Cornelius was prepared to go further. Far further.
His eyes flicked toward the table in the center of the room, where several ancient tomes lay open. The pages were filled with forbidden spells, written in a language that seemed to shift and writhe as he read them. One particular spell caught his eye, a dark incantation known only to a few who dared to tread the path of forbidden magic. It was said to combine cold magic with an unnatural dark force—the power to freeze life itself.
He was desperate now. Desperate enough to risk everything.
With a deep breath, Cornelius drew his wand and raised it toward Marge, who floated just above the floor. Her gaze followed him, filled with helplessness, but beneath that, there was a spark of something else. It was as though she knew what he was about to do. It was as though she feared it.
"No, no, don't worry, Marge," Cornelius muttered under his breath, trying to calm his own frayed nerves. "This is the only way. I'll save you. I'll make you whole again."
The tip of his wand began to glow faintly with a bluish light, cold and sharp, like the first bite of winter. He whispered the incantation, the dark syllables slipping off his tongue with practiced ease. The air around him chilled, a swirling gust of icy wind beginning to form in the room, rushing past Marge's floating form like a living thing.
A shiver ran through him, the sensation of something ancient stirring within his veins. His cold magic was merging with something darker, more twisted. He felt it burn, a sensation that wasn't entirely pleasant. It was as if the darkness had a will of its own, pushing against his own will, testing his control.
He ignored the feeling. This was the only chance to save her.
"Arctus Vocatus!" he cried out, and with a flick of his wrist, the power surged from his wand. The magic twisted and spiraled in midair before shooting toward Marge. The frozen spell collided with the invisible force holding her aloft, and for a brief moment, it seemed to work. Her body began to lower, slowly, carefully. She was being freed.
But then, the spell began to backfire. Cornelius' heart skipped a beat as he saw Marge's body shudder violently, her arms and legs locking into place, as though something far darker was taking hold of her. The very air in the room thickened, the temperature plummeting to subzero degrees. The chill seeped into Cornelius' bones, and for the first time in his life, he felt fear.
"NO!" he shouted, realizing too late that he had lost control of the dark magic. The curse he had invoked was too powerful, too twisted, and it was turning on him.
Marge let out a silent scream as the magic exploded outward, a violent burst of ice and shadow, and in an instant, the room was filled with the deafening roar of freezing wind. The force knocked Cornelius off his feet, sending him sprawling to the cold stone floor. He struggled to push himself up, but the magic was already wrapping around him, coiling like serpents of frost.
His skin tightened as the freezing magic surged into his body, causing his muscles to lock and his vision to blur. His hands clawed at his chest, but it was no use. The curse was taking over, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His body began to harden, his limbs becoming stiff, his heart slowing as ice coursed through his veins.
The transformation was happening too quickly. He could feel his form cracking, changing, distorting. His breath turned to steam in the icy air, and his heart pounded with a growing sense of dread.
With a final, chilling scream, Cornelius Fridge's body shattered, freezing into a monstrous, living statue of ice. His bones were now made of cold, hard crystal, his veins filled with jagged frost. His face, once human, was twisted into an unnatural expression of rage and terror, frozen into a permanent snarl. His eyes—once dark and calculating—glowed with an eerie, cold light. His mouth moved, but no sound escaped.
And then, as if his body had been ripped open by the magic itself, Cornelius spoke with a voice that wasn't his own, a voice that had been twisted by the curse.
"You've done this, Harry Wayne," he hissed, his voice a low growl, echoing through the room. "You've cursed me. You've brought me to this."
The icy form of Cornelius Fridge stood, swaying as though uncertain of its new form. His jagged edges crunched with every movement, and a terrible cold radiated from him, freezing the very air around him.
"I will make you pay for this. I will make Hogwarts feel the wrath of Mr. Fridge!"
With a forceful roar, Fridge raised his hand, the cold air swirling around him, spiraling into a vicious storm. His magic surged, uncontrolled, sending shards of ice flying across the room. The entire chamber shook as his fury tore through the air. The ice walls that had once been his sanctuary now seemed to recoil in fear, as though his own power had betrayed him.
He laughed—though it was a hollow, guttural sound, echoing from deep within his frozen form.
"No one is safe now," Fridge whispered, his eyes glowing brighter with fury. "Not Harry. Not Hogwarts!"
The cold mist around him thickened, the temperature plunging lower and lower until the walls themselves began to frost over. But Fridge no longer cared. The only thing that mattered now was vengeance—vengeance against the boy who had caused this torment. Against Harry Wayne, who would feel the full, chilling wrath of a man who had become something far worse.
He raised his arm again, and the storm outside seemed to answer his call. The wind howled with a deadly rage as the frozen figure of Cornelius Fridge stepped forward, his path now set. Hogwarts would soon learn cold hard truth about fear.
To be continued….