October 9th, 1995 – Bones Manor, Ritual Room
"Brace yourself, Mr. Potter…this is going to hurt. A lot."
Harry was in the center of a white pentagram, surrounded by candles and rune stones with symbols he didn't recognize. Bones Manor had a room dedicated to performing rituals, though it rarely got any use, and this morning Harry, Croaker, and Bones had gathered to remove the prisoner's block from Harry's magic.
Harry's anticipation of this event was so great that he almost vomited before the ritual could begin. This was the moment that would decide whether his magic would recover from whatever Dumbledore had done to it. Croaker had quickly gathered materials from the Department of Mysteries and reassured Harry as best he could, but there was still a chance that Harry's magic would never be the same.
Croaker gave Bones an unreadable look, then spoke a phrase in Latin and lowered his wand to a rune stone.
Harry screamed in agony.
He had endured the pain of Voldemort's cruciatus curse in the graveyard, but this was a different kind of pain. It pulsed through his entire being, and felt like it was pulling something violently out of every pore of his body rather than setting his nerve endings on fire.
Finally, after ten seconds of excruciating torture, it stopped.
Harry lay in the fetal position in the center of the circle, gasping for breath. As the pain decreased, he tried to sit up. But his vision swam and an overwhelming sense of vertigo overtook him. Harry leaned over and vomited violently onto the stone floor of the ritual room. Madam Bones, from her position in the corner of the room, looked between Harry and Croaker in alarm.
"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" she asked with concern.
Harry wiped the saliva dripping from his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded faintly.
"I think so. I don't really feel much of…oh, wow…"
In the midst of speaking, Harry slumped back to the ground as a wave of giddiness and euphoria overtook him. He couldn't restrain himself, and giggled madly, as if someone had just whispered an absurdly funny joke in his ear. His head swam with a feeling that he could only think of as ecstasy, and soon his body was shaking as he laughed uncontrollably.
"Algernon, is this supposed to happen?" Bones asked her companion worriedly.
Croaker was watching Harry in fascination. "I don't know. I've only seen this done once, and it wasn't for a teenager with only a partial block…. Mr. Potter, are you in any pain?"
Harry shook his head and looked up from the ground. His face was bright red and tears were streaming from his eyes, but he had a wide, goofy smile on his face.
"Merlin, no," he sighed. "This is the best feeling I've ever had in my life. I feel…there aren't words for it. It's wonderful. Does this mean that my magic is going to be okay?"
Croaker responded cautiously. "It's too soon to tell, lad. I think what you're feeling is a good sign, but we need to wait and see if there's any damage. Someone will be watching over you for the next 24 hours, and you are not to use magic until we say so. Madam Bones will keep your wand so you won't be tempted to do something stupid."
Harry nodded and rose from the floor, shuffling almost drunkenly toward the adults with a look of bliss on his face. He patted each of them on the arm, then continued to giggle as he exited the room and stumbled up the steps leading toward the main floor of the Manor.
Bones looked at Croaker with a raised eyebrow, and he shrugged in response.
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