Harry adjusted his grip under Dudley's arms.
The weight of his cousin's bulky frame pressed down on him like an overstuffed sack of potatoes. His trainers slipped on the dry, cracked grass. Every muscle in his arms strained as he heaved Dudley upright, the sweat soaking through his shirt and clinging to his skin like a second layer. Dudley groaned faintly, his head lolling forward. Harry grimaced.
For all his bulk, Dudley was still fragile in moments like this.
Behind him, Jinx whistled a low, sharp sound, like a mockingbird mimicking a tune it didn't quite understand, as she followed him. "You okay, there noodle arms?"
"I'm fine."
"You sure you don't need, like, a forklift for this guy or something?"
"I'm fine."
"Ooh, maybe some dynamite! Blow him up and stuff the pieces into—"
"Do you ever shut up?" His chest heaved as he repositioned Dudley's weight. "Unless you want to help?"
Jinx grinned.
The faint scent of burnt metal and gunpowder clung to her, mingling with the stale, oppressive heat of the night. Her wild blue braids caught the faint glow of the distant streetlamp, strands of it flickering like static electricity as she tilted her head. Her hair framed her face like a halo gone wrong, the faint glow in her eyes gleaming with the blue of the full moon.
"I'm just saying…" She shrugged. "You got options, Bolt Boy."
Harry sighed. "Stop calling me that."
Dudley's head rolled back over Harry's shoulder. The faint sheen of sweat on Dudley's forehead caught the light, glistening like oil on water. Now that the dementor was far gone, the heat pressed down on them like a fist intent on suffocating them and turning the air into molasses. Sweat dripped down Harry's temples, stinging his eyes as he kept readjusting to Dudley's shifting form.
It's like I'm carrying pudding, not a person…
"Why?" She tapped a finger against her lips. The chipped blue and pink paint on her nails caught the light as she moved. "You've got that lightning-zap scar thing going on. Gotta be Bolt Boy."
"That's completely unimaginative."
She giggled. "If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears."
"Brilliant…" Harry exhaled as he dragged Dudley towards the edge of the part. "Just brilliant."
The dry grass crackled underfoot, the sound oddly satisfying despite the strain pulling at his shoulders. His wand, tucked back into his pocket, jabbed against his hip with every step, a faint reminder of the magic he could no longer use so close to the Dursleys' house. After what happened with Dobby, he didn't want to take any risks.
Hopefully, he was far enough out in the park for the blame not to fall on him…
Jinx's boots crunched against the ground in a sound that lacked rhythm.
It was the sound of tangled strings, a melody that indicated that she couldn't quite decide how to move. The straps of that monstrous contraption of wires and gears she called a minigun jangled softly with each step, the faint hum of residual energy still clinging to the weapon.
"So…" Her gaze darted around. "What's the plan, Brilliant? You—"
Harry facepalmed. "Don't tell me that's what you landed on."
"You said Brilliant."
"Damn it…"
"Anyway…" She skipped around him like a little girl. "What's the plan? You gonna drag him all the way home, or are we gonna find a shortcut? Maybe a portal? Ooh, or a teleporter! Do you have teleporters here?"
The sweat dripping down Harry's neck as he lugged Dudley pooled at the base of his spine, where the straps of his rucksack dug into his skin.
"There's no we." He shook his head. "You're waiting here."
As chaotic and impossible as Jinx was, there was no way he could take her to the Dursleys.
They barely tolerated him, let alone someone like her. Best case scenario, they throw her out. Worst case scenario, she kills one of them. Harry did not want that to happen. He'd seen enough people die in front of him for a lifetime.
The best he could do was come back for her once he dropped Dudley off.
"Oh, come on!" She leaned against his shoulder as they walked. "You're gonna leave me all alone? I did save your bacon."
Harry's arms burned.
The park gates loomed ahead, their rusty hinges creaking faintly in the still night air. The faint scent of wild garlic and dog piss wafted from the bushes. Jinx skipped ahead, like a sparking wire threatening to snap. She spun on her heel, her braids whipping behind her like the tails of comets.
"Come on, Brilliant." She skipped about the path. "You know you want to know how I killed that poltergeist."
"It was a dementor." He sighed. Was there any point in trying to get her to not follow him? "And yes, I am curious."
She flashed in front of him, walking backwards as he walked forwards, and pressed her nose onto his.
She was all sharp angles and restless energy, a tangle of wiry limbs and reckless movement. Fireworks seconds before detonation. Scorch marks and jagged scars littered her pale skin, her wild blue braids bearing metal rings as threads. Each ring clinked together as she walked, like wind chimes caught in a storm.
"Sorry, Brilliant." Her smile showed the crack in her bottom lip. "You have to earn more of my trust for that."
Of course, he did.
Why did he ever expect anything different? Jinx, though a stranger, was just continuing the established trend of 'let's not tell Harry anything ever'. The fact that Jinx, even if it was unintentional, was in on it was nothing to the fact that neither Ron nor Hermione had written to him all summer.
But why write to Harry Potter?
"So?" Jinx stepped away from him. "Where are we going?"
"Oh, you're not coming with me."
"What? Why not?" Her arms swung wide in challenge, the massive weapon strapped to her back swinging with a metallic scrape. "I just saved your scrawny butt from that giant scary poltergeist! I earned at least one free meal."
Harry's lungs fought for air as he shifted Dudley's bulk, each breath turning shallow, the chill tightening around his ribcage like a vise.
"It wasn't a—" A groan rose in his throat, but he stifled it. No sense in arguing about what to call a dementor. "Look, you can't just show up at my aunt and uncle's house with…"
What was that thing even called?
It looked like a minigun, but… It was all painted and mismatched and full of wires and chemicals. Why did a minigun need chemicals? Unless she was somehow using those to fire the thing, because he hadn't seen either bullets or muzzle flashes, so—
"With what? Because, if they're going to go all 'you can't go out dressed like that', I already told—"
"With that." He gestured his head at her weapon. "They'd lose their minds if they saw that thing."
Jinx's grin quivered, then solidified again. She reached over her shoulder, her fingertips brushing the minigun's barrel as though soothing a restless animal. "This?"
"That."
"Oh, this baby's not going anywhere." She caressed the weapon then glared at him. "She stays. End of discussion."
Harry dragged his free hand over his face, feeling the roughness of unwashed skin—salt and grime collecting in the lines of his palm. Of course, she didn't care about the fact he'd told her she couldn't come to the Dursleys' with that thing like… three seconds ago. Why would she? Professor McGonagall had ignored him about the Stone, Headmaster Dumbledore kept sending him back to the Dursleys, Sirius flew off without him, and the Minister had called him a liar. Other than Ron and Hermione, no one ever cared what Harry had to say. Why would Jinx be any different?
Because she saved your life.
Sometimes, he hated his own trains of thought. Yes, Jinx saved his life, and she was far removed from why everyone else never listened to him. She didn't care that he was a child, heck, she was probably younger than him. No, she was definitely someone who just did whatever she wanted.
It wasn't personal, he was sure.
"Fine, but can you at least—" How was he supposed to solve this? There had to be a way to keep the situation from exploding before he got her out of there. "I don't know—cover it up? Hide it?"
"Hide Pow-Pow?"
Merlin, she called it Pow-Pow? She called the death machine Pow-Pow? "Yes."
"What kind of a monster are you?" She gasped with exaggerated offense. "Where's your sense of loyalty?"
"Jinx, that's a weapon, it's not—"
She pressed her finger—her skin was surprisingly soft—against his lips. "Do not finish that sentence."
Harry frowned. How was she still walking backwards with such stability even as she stared at him and held a finger against his lips? Jinx took her finger away, her chipped nails gleaming under the streetlight. Dudley kept shuddering, the rasp of his breaths synchronizing with the wheezing of the summer breeze.
Jinx skipped in circles around him, somehow matching his pace as he walked forward. "Pow-Pow stays."
"What do you expect me to do?" Each word escaped his throat raw, the strain of holding up Dudley's dead weight carving lines of pain across his spine. "They're not exactly the 'welcome strangers with big guns' type!"
"Guess you'll just have to get creative, huh?" She patted the minigun's side. "Don't worry—I'll stay super quiet. Like a ghost. A really sneaky, awesome ghost with killer aim."
"Yeah, right…"
Jinx spun on one heel, humming a half-formed tune that resonated off the surrounding houses, the sound distorted like a broken music box. Her boots scuffed the pavement, stirring bitter dust into the air. The overhead streetlight sputtered, reflecting off her hair in jagged shards of neon blue.
Number Four, Privet Drive loomed at the end of a short walkway.
The house stood as polished and rigid as a museum exhibit. The porch light flickered, casting a sickly glow on the pristine flowerbeds, each hedge trimmed into identical domes—unnaturally neat, with no leaf out of place. Uncle Vernon's car gleamed in the driveway, its surface reflecting the moonlight in an oily sheen, like a dark mirror foretelling ruin.
Harry halted at the door, Dudley limp against his side.
"Don't touch anything." He glanced at Jinx as she leaned in to stare in the brass doorknocker reflecting her face. "And, for Merlin's sake, don't say anything."
"Don' you worry." She winked at him. "I'll be the picture of subtlety."
I doubt it.
The brass handle bit into Harry's palm, its chill seeping into his bones as he adjusted Dudley's sagging weight against his side. The sheer mass of him pulled at Harry's shoulders, a dead weight that dragged his muscles taut, straining against his spine like a leaden chain. He exhaled through clenched teeth, bracing for the moment the world inside Number Four collapsed on him.
Which would be when Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or both, saw Dudley.
Behind him, Jinx practically vibrated, shifting from foot to foot like she had an entire thunderstorm bottled under her skin. The massive weapon slung over her back gleamed beneath the flickering porch light, the cold metal catching flashes of sickly yellow. She tapped her fingers against the barrel, each motion restless, jittery, and hungry.
"This is gonna be fun, Brilliant." Her voice carried an eerie giddiness, a near-whisper, yet somehow it sliced through the tense night air like a fuse burning too fast.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a half-second. Why does it always have to be me?
He inhaled sharply then shoved the door open.
The hinges whined, a high-pitched groan that felt almost accusatory, as if the house itself recoiled at the fact Harry was once again coming in. His trainers skidded against the too-clean floorboards. A thick gust of stale air washed over him, heavy with overcooked cabbage, lemon-scented polish, and the underlying faint musk of stale sweat and reheated meatloaf. Dudley's limp feet dragged behind him, leaving faint smears of dirt, an imperfection on the otherwise sterile, rigid world Aunt Petunia had crafted.
"I want to say cozy…" Jinx chirped, her voice slicing through the oppressive hush like a sing-song dagger. "But this looks like the place fun goes to die."
Her blue eyes flicked across the pristine hallway, taking in the world of lace doilies, floral wallpaper, and rigidly aligned picture frames that no one actually looked at. Her fingers danced over the edge of a fragile porcelain dish, one of Aunt Petunia's dustless relics. It wobbled precariously, tilting just enough before she shoved her hands into her pockets.
Harry's pulse spiked. "Don't touch anything."
He shot her a glare over his shoulder, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts, muscles already aching from the weight of both Dudley and whatever inevitable disaster was about to unfold. The house pressed in around him. The walls listened. The only sound—the only thing keeping reality from breaking—was the soft, mechanical hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, its muted buzz like a distant warning siren against the creeping inevitability of what came next.
"Will you relax?" Jinx grinned and leaned casually against the wall. "It didn't fall."
Harry grimaced at her, but didn't have the energy to argue.
He dragged Dudley further into the house, his cousin groaning faintly as his legs slid awkwardly across the rug. The faint rustle of Dudley's feet snagging on the carpet punctuated each step, and Harry's arms screamed in protest as he finally lowered Dudley onto the couch in the living room. The cushions sank under the weight, a faint puff of musty air escaping as Harry stood back, wiping his hands on his jeans.
"Wow…" Jinx strolled into the room after him, her eyes roving over the meticulously arranged furniture and overly floral wallpaper with a look of undisguised amusement. "Did someone throw up a garden party and forget to clean it up?"
Harry crouched to check Dudley's face.
The frost still clung stubbornly to Dudley's hairline and the corners of his mouth, giving his pale skin an almost bluish hue. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, each breath rattling faintly in his throat. Harry swallowed hard, his stomach knotting with the weight of uncertainty.
What if he hadn't gotten Dudley home fast enough? What if—
"So…" Jinx flopped onto the armrest of the chair across from him, her boots leaving dirt marks on the immaculate rug. "Who's this guy to you? He looks like he couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag."
Harry straightened. "He's my cousin."
"Yeah… I don't see it."
The sharp thud-thud of footsteps—heavy enough that they could only have been Uncle Vernon's—reverberated through the house, each step hammering down like the countdown to a bomb Harry couldn't defuse. The stairs groaned under his uncle's bulk as he descended, his heavy breaths audible even before he appeared in the doorway. The dim light of the living room threw stark shadows across the walls, exaggerating Vernon's wide frame and red face as he froze on the threshold, his beady eyes zeroing in on Dudley.
"Dudders!" The word exploded from Uncle Vernon's mouth like gravel scraping against metal. "What—what's wrong with him?! What did you do?!"
"It wasn't me!" Harry shifted, his legs stiff from hauling Dudley inside. "A thing attacked us in the park. He—he just—"
"What attacked him?" Vernon He knelt beside Dudley, his sausage-like fingers brushing against his son's cold face. "He's freezing! Petunia! PETUNIA!"
Harry blinked as the shrill clatter of hurried steps echoed down the hall.
Honestly, he was quite surprised Uncle Vernon hadn't blamed him immediately. Oh, he knew blame was coming his way in some form, that was inescapable, but he'd never have expected Uncle Vernon to wait. Then again, this was Dudders, so it made sense for Uncle Vernon to be worried.
Aunt Petunia's bony frame vibrated as she ran into the living room, her face twisted in alarm as her gaze darted from Dudley to Vernon and then—inevitably—to Harry. "What's happened? What's happened to my Dudley?"
"I don't know!" Uncle Vernon's mustache quivered. "I came down, and he… he was like this."
She rushed forward, her slippers scuffing against the polished floorboards, and fell to her knees beside Dudley. Her fingers hovered over his face, trembling as if she didn't dare touch him.
"I told you." Harry's voice tightened as panic itched at the edges of his control. "We were attacked. It—it wasn't human. It—"
"That's enough, boy!" Vernon's hand rose as if to swat the words out of the air. "Call an ambulance! Now!"
"An ambulance won't help him!"
Both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze, their faces jerking toward him. Uncle Vernon pulsed with throbbing veins and purple skin, his fat body jiggling and vibrating. Aunt Petunia glared at him with the frown of someone who'd just eaten something unpleasant.
"What did you say?" Vernon's voice dropped, his usual bluster tinged with a dangerous edge, as though Harry's words had been a spark too close to dry tinder. "Are you saying something… freakish happened to him?"
"Look…" Harry dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the sweat-matted strands. "It was a monster, a dementor, it—"
"I don't want to hear any of your nonsense!" Vernon roared, his face ballooning to a deep shade of purple. "You bring your… your freakishness into this house, and now my son—"
"Oi, chill out, Big Guy." Jinx hopped off the armchair. "He's not dead, you know."
Oh, no…
Why did she have to talk? Why now? Couldn't she see how on edge Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were?
Both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze, their heads snapping towards Jinx.
"He's just cold. Like, really cold. Like, having a swim in Silco's lake cold." She hopped casually around the couch, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Her minigun jumped against her back, the faint metallic sheen catching the dim light. "You should try wrapping him in a blanket or something instead of yelling at the guy who'd helped him."
Aunt Petunia's hand flew to her throat, her fingers clenching the fabric of her blouse. "Who… Who are you?"
That's a wrap for Chapter 3!
I just finished S2 of Arcane, and I a with the capital P. I won't go into why, so I don't spoil anything for anyone, but it has a lot to do with the writing and the fate of a beloved character. Y'all can definitely expect a fic to fix that in the near future.
Let me know what you liked and disliked, I love and appreciate all constructive criticism, especially since I always keep editing and improving these chapters. I would love to hear all your thoughts!
Check me out on p. a. t. r.e.o.n.. c.o.m. /TheStorySpinner (don't forget to remove the spaces and dots) for early releases of new chapters and bonus content.
The following chapters are already available there:
Chapter 4: Red Stains on Privet Drive
Chapter 5: The Edge of the Map
Chapter 6: Grand Theft Vernon
See you in Chapter 4!