Harry Potter: Dudley From LOTM

"Hagrid, what happened?" Harry asked, his voice sharp with alarm.

"Someone's attacked a unicorn," Hagrid replied, his own voice a low, grim rumble. His usual cheerful demeanor was gone, replaced by a cold fury. "I have to tell Professor Dumbledore about this."

He gently laid his burden on a bed of straw he'd prepared. The three boys finally saw it clearly. It was a creature of myth, so sacred and pure it seemed to emit its own faint, silvery light. Its coat was the color of fresh-fallen snow, its mane like spun moonlight. But its purity was marred. Near its neck, a deep, grievous wound oozed silvery-white blood, staining its perfect coat.

"Didn't you see the person who did this?" Dudley asked, his voice low.

"No," Hagrid shook his head, already bustling about his hut, grabbing vials of potions and clean rags. "Whoever it was, they were gone by the time I got there." He began to gently clean the wound. "Oh, who on earth would attack such a pure, innocent creature? Catching a unicorn isn't easy; they're powerful magical beasts. I've never heard of one being harmed before." He spoke to the wounded animal in a soft, cooing voice. "Hold still now, darling. I'm just treating your injuries."

He looked up at Harry. "Harry, lad, help me write a letter to Professor Dumbledore. Tell him someone's attacked a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest." As Harry rushed to grab parchment and a quill, Hagrid added, "Oh, and Dumbledore might be busy. Write another letter to Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Unicorns are powerful creatures, hard to injure. This might be related to the Dark Arts. Perhaps he can figure something out."

"Has Professor Quirrell returned?" Dudley asked. They hadn't had a single Defense class yet, the professor having been reportedly injured while traveling in Albania.

"He just got back today," Hagrid confirmed. "Good time to ask for his help."

"Alright, I understand," Harry nodded, beginning to write.

Dudley knelt beside the unicorn, stroking its pearl-white mane, trying to soothe its trembling. "Hagrid, who would do this? And why?"

"It's hard to say," Hagrid replied, his brow furrowed in concentration as he applied a poultice to the wound. "Some wizards are just… bad. They might have other motives for attacking a unicorn." He didn't elaborate.

Dudley's mind raced, recalling the unsettling, intelligent gaze he had seen in the forest. No one attacks an animal like this without a reason. The magical texts he'd read mentioned the uses of unicorn horns and hair for wands and potions, but that didn't seem to justify such a brutal, near-fatal assault. There had to be a clearer, more desperate purpose.

He activated his spiritual vision. The unicorn's aura was a beacon of pure, white light, beautiful and sacred. His gaze then fell upon the wound. The silvery blood that flowed from it was not just blood; it pulsed with a powerful, vibrant spiritual energy.

The blood, he realized. The attacker was after its blood. That would explain the location of the wound, a direct strike to the neck. But for what purpose? This magical world, he was learning, was far from the friendly, whimsical place it appeared to be on the surface.

The unicorn seemed to sense his intense focus. It shifted its head slightly, its large, dark eyes looking directly at him. In them, Dudley saw a swirl of emotions: purity, a wild, untamed agility, and the deep, profound sorrow of a creature facing its own death.

"It's alright," Dudley whispered, deactivating his vision and continuing to stroke its mane. "You'll be fine soon." As his hand brushed over the wound, he discreetly collected a few strands of hair stained with the silvery blood. It would be useful for research later.

Harry had finished the letters, and one of Hagrid's owls was sent off to the castle. Under the groundskeeper's tender care, the unicorn's breathing began to even out, the light in its eyes growing a little stronger.

About ten minutes later, firm footsteps were heard approaching the hut. "It's Professor Dumbledore!" Ron exclaimed, peering out the window. "He's here!"

A wave of relief washed over Harry. At Hogwarts, Dumbledore was their greatest shield. As long as he was here, everything would be alright. He rushed to open the door.

"I received your letter," Dumbledore said, his expression grave as he entered the small hut. "Let me see the injured creature." He knelt beside the unicorn, his long, withered fingers gently stroking its fur, his eyes examining the wound with an expert's precision.

"There are indeed traces of Dark Arts here," he said, his voice low and solemn. "This was not the work of an ordinary wizard."

"Oh, my goodness," Hagrid lamented. "Who on earth is causing trouble in the Forbidden Forest?"

Dumbledore simply shook his head, his face a mask of deep thought. "How did you find it, Hagrid?" he asked, standing up.

"It was Dudley," Hagrid explained. "He said he saw someone in the forest. I was worried it was a student who'd snuck in, so I went to check. I didn't find anyone, but I found this poor creature, dying." He looked at Dudley. "I suspect the person he saw was the wizard who attacked the unicorn."

Dumbledore's gaze immediately turned to Dudley, his blue eyes, magnified by his half-moon spectacles, seeming to glow with a profound, penetrating light. "Well, Dudley," he said, a note of wonder in his voice, "it seems you always find yourself at the center of things."

"Professor, we…" Harry began, wanting to defend his cousin.

Dumbledore raised a hand, silencing him. "I meant nothing by it, Harry. It was merely an observation." He looked back at Dudley. "I now suspect you have a unique and keen talent for sensing danger and abnormality. Dudley, what exactly did you see? Can you describe it to me?"

Just as Dudley was about to speak, more footsteps were heard outside the door.

"Did you notify anyone else?" Dumbledore asked Hagrid.

"It should be Professor Quirrell," Hagrid explained. "I was worried you wouldn't have time, so I asked him to come and see if this matter is related to the Dark Arts."

As he spoke, a pale, nervous-looking man wearing a large, oddly scented purple turban stepped into the hut. He flinched at the sight of the unicorn, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something else… something unreadable.

(End of Chapter)

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