Vernon's expression shifted from disbelief to a mix of astonishment and discomfort as he witnessed the scene. The sight of Harry, lying unconscious, seemed to leave him at a loss for words. Petunia, torn between concern for her son and the shock of the extraordinary events, anxiously implored Vernon to do something. The room buzzed with an unspoken tension, hovering between the extraordinary magic that had just unfolded and the unconscious figure of the young wizard who had pushed himself to his limits.
Vernon's initial shock transformed into action. With a determined expression, he rushed forward, scooping Harry's limp form into his arms. Fueled by concern for the unconscious boy, Vernon hurriedly made his way to the fireplace. Petunia carefully gathered Abigail into her arms. Despite the earlier chaos, Abigail now rested peacefully, her injuries miraculously healed by Harry's extraordinary magic. Following Vernon's lead, Petunia stepped into the emerald flames of the fireplace, clutching Abigail protectively.
The emerald flames of the Floo Network deposited the Dursleys in the reception area of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Vernon, holding the still-unconscious Harry, looked around for a healer, while Petunia, cradling Abigail, followed suit. The subdued hum of magical activity surrounded them as witches and wizards moved purposefully through the hospital's corridors.
A sympathetic healer approached them, noting the distress on their faces. "How can I help you?" she inquired.
Vernon quickly explained the situation. "Our son here performed some healing magic to heal our daughter. Now he's fainted, and we think he has dried up his magical reserves."
The healer, recognizing the severity of the situation, immediately summoned a stretcher and directed them to follow her. As they hurried through the hospital's corridors, she explained, "We'll take him to the emergency ward. Healers will attend to him there."
In the emergency ward, Harry was gently laid on a bed while the healer began her examination. Soon, a wizard in Healer's robes joined them. After a thorough assessment, he turned to the Dursleys with a mix of astonishment and concern.
"Your son is quite a remarkable wizard. The size of his magical reserve is astonishingly big for someone his age. However, the magic he performed seems to have depleted his magical reserves fully. It seems that the magic he performed was beyond the level of an Auror."
"Yes, our Harry had always been something of a prodigy. He was capable of using Auror level magic before even going to Hogwarts"
"I see. What's more concerning is that he used his own blood to fuel the spell once his magical reserve ran dry, a highly advanced and risky technique. It appears he sacrificed his magical essence to heal your daughter.", the healer was surprised at being told that Harry was capable of Auror level magic but showed no emotions on his face.
Petunia's eyes widened with a mixture of worry and disbelief. "His blood? Is he going to be all right? Blood replenishing potion should do it right?"
The healer's expression grew more serious. "Yes. Physically, he should recover with rest and replenishment. However, magically, it might take some time. Such advanced magic can take a toll on a wizard, especially one as young as him. We'll monitor his condition closely."
Petunia, overwhelmed with concern, began to cry silently, holding Abigail closer. Vernon, though also deeply concerned, felt a surge of gratitude and fatherly pride at the mention of Harry's remarkable abilities and his selflessness.
"Could you check our daughter too please?"
"Of course. Please tell me what happened" the healer said as he took Abigail from Petunia's arms and put her in the bed nearby.
Petunia described how she and Abigail were planning on going to Diagon Alley to buy a broomstick for Harry as he had been selected as a seeker for his house team. But suddenly Abigail was floating in the air and the next moment fell down with numerous wounds on her body. Petunia had thought that it was accidental magic and was about Floo to St. Mungos when Harry came through and saw Abigail. He immediately started dealing with the injury. When he was done with the treatment, if Petunia had not seen the wounds before she wouldn't have believed that Abigail was wounded.
The healer listened attentively to Petunia's account, his expression growing more serious as he examined Abigail's body. With a focused wave of his wand, he performed a series of diagnostic spells to assess the extent of the magical injuries.
"It seems your daughter's injuries were quite severe from what you described though there is nothing wrong with her now. The magic used for her treatment was advanced, and your son's proficiency is remarkable. I'll conduct a thorough examination to ensure everything is as it should be."
As the healer worked on Abigail, Vernon stood by Petunia, offering silent support. The atmosphere in the room was tense, the weight of magical complexities pressing down on them.
After a meticulous examination, the healer looked up, his expression thoughtful. "Your son's magical abilities are extraordinary. The healing he performed is precise and masterful, especially for someone his age. As for your daughter, the wounds have been healed magically, she will wake up soon."
Petunia, still teary-eyed, nodded gratefully. "Thank you. But why did Harry use his blood?"
The healer sighed, "Using one's own blood in magic is an ancient and powerful technique. It provides a direct connection to the wizard's life force, enhancing the potency of the spell once a wizards magic reserves start to run too low for continuing the magic spell. However, it comes with great risks, as it can damage the wizard's magical reserves and physical vitality. Your son displayed incredible bravery and skill in utilizing such advanced magic."
Vernon, though overwhelmed by the situation, felt a surge of pride at the mention of Harry's bravery. Petunia, torn between concern and gratitude, reached out to hold Vernon's hand, finding solace in their shared support for their extraordinary son.
The healer, concern etched on his face, added, "It's crucial to emphasize that using one's own blood in magic is an ancient and perilous practice. The connection to one's life force can amplify the spell, but it also poses significant risks. Many wizards who attempt such feats don't survive. Your son's survival in this instance could be attributed to a combination of his innate magical strength, skill, and, perhaps, a stroke of luck."
Petunia's grip on Vernon's hand tightened as the gravity of the situation sank in. The healer continued, "I would strongly advise caution in the future. While your sons magical abilities are remarkable, it's crucial to understand the potential consequences of such advanced practices. We'll monitor both your children closely to ensure their well-being."
As the healers attended to Harry, Petunia and Vernon remained close, their concern palpable in the quiet room. Vernon gently squeezed Petunia's hand, silently reassuring her. However, the weight of worry pressed on them as they watched over Harry's unconscious form.
Vernon, sensing the need to inform Dumbledore, leaned down and whispered to Petunia, "I better go and tell Dumbledore about this. He needs to know what happened." Petunia nodded, her eyes still fixed on Harry.
Vernon approached the fireplace in the hospital room, took a handful of Floo powder, and threw it into the flames. As the green flames roared to life, Vernon stepped into the Floo Network, disappearing in a flash. He was on his way to Dumbledore's office to relay the troubling incident.