The swing creaked beneath Harry's weight.
He rocked back and forth slowly, trainers scuffing the dirt beneath him, hands loose on the chains. The park was mostly empty, too hot, too still, the air thick enough to taste. Cicadas buzzed lazily in the hedges, and the sky hung low and pale above Little Whinging.
Harry's mind was elsewhere.
Pandora lingered like an ache behind his eyes. Hogwarts Legacy, another life layered atop the others, sat strangely beside it, quieter but no less real. Different schools. Different teachers. Different wars.
Same choices.
He let his head fall back against the chains and exhaled.
"Oi, Potter."
Harry didn't need to look.
The voices were familiar, too loud, too practiced, bolstered by numbers and heat and the false courage of an audience.
Dudley Dursley stood at the edge of the park with three of his usual hangers-on. He'd grown into his bulk, no longer just fat but heavy, shoulders broad, fists clenched more from habit than purpose. The boys flanking him snickered, glancing between Harry and each other.
"Heard you last night," Dudley continued, smirk tugging at his mouth. "Mum says you were talking in your sleep again. Screaming about, what was it?"
He affected a high, mocking voice.
"Don't kill Neteyam!"
Laughter burst from the group.
Something inside Harry snapped.
Not rage.
Not grief.
Something colder.
The air shifted.
The cicadas fell silent.
Harry's feet touched the ground as he stood, chains swaying gently behind him. Frost crept across the metal, racing down the links in a spiderweb of ice.
The temperature plummeted.
Dudley's laughter cut off mid-breath.
Harry lifted his head.
Where his eyes should have been, green flame burned, living fire, coiling and alive, casting sickly light across his face. Magic rolled off him in waves, ancient and wrong and watching.
The sky darkened.
Clouds gathered unnaturally fast, blotting out the sun.
Dudley took a step back.
"So, so what?" he stammered, trying and failing to sound brave. "You think you're scary now?"
Harry didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
The boys ran.
One tripped over his own feet. Another screamed outright, vaulting a bench as if it might bite him. Dudley stood frozen for a heartbeat longer, then turned and bolted too.
Harry moved.
Not chasing.
Hunting.
They reached the tunnel beneath the road, a concrete throat that swallowed sound and light. Dudley skidded inside, breath ragged, the others scattering out the far end.
Harry stepped into the shadow and the cold deepened.
Two figures emerged from the darkness, gliding rather than walking. Rotting hands, tattered robes, hollow mouths opening in silent hunger.
Dementors.
Dudley screamed.
One of them lunged, icy fingers closing around Dudley's chest. His eyes rolled back, lips turning blue as joy, such as it was, was torn from him.
"No."
Harry stepped forward and raised his hand.
He didn't think of words.
He didn't think of incantations.
He thought of the sky splitting open over Pandora.
He thought of Toruk Makto.
Light exploded from him.
A massive shape burst from the brilliance, wings spanning the tunnel, a roar that shook the concrete. Toruk soared forward, blazing silver-blue, ancient and absolute.
The Dementors screamed.
They disintegrated under the force, shredded into nothingness as the Patronus vanished into the sky beyond the tunnel.
Silence fell.
Dudley collapsed, gasping.
"Harry...Harry"
Miss Figg came running, hair disheveled, eyes sharp despite her age.
"Ministry useless, useless" she muttered, kneeling beside Dudley. She looked up at Harry, taking in the frost, the fading light. "I'll have words with Mundungus. And them."
Harry bent, lifted Dudley effortlessly, and slung him over his shoulder.
He carried him home.
Vernon started shouting the moment they stepped inside.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!"
"Dementors," Harry said flatly.
Petunia went white.
She grabbed her purse. "Hospital. Now."
They left without another word.
Letters rained down moments later.
One screamed EXPELLED.
Another commanded him to stay where he was.
Harry glanced at them once, then waved his hand.
Fire took them.
That evening, the Order arrived.
Grimmauld Place swallowed him whole, Sirius pulling him into a fierce embrace, Remus steady and watchful, Ron and Hermione pale but relieved.
"The hearing's in two days," Remus explained. "Fudge is doubling down."
Harry nodded. "I didn't use a wand."
Silence.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"Ah," he said softly. "Then my planning was indeed… overkill."