Author's Note: Anything and everything even remotely related to the magical world created by one Ms. J.K. Rowling all belongs to her, and I own absolutely nothing and claim righst to nothing, all that legal stuff. Just a fan who enjoys her work and thought of this little story while reading Order of the Phoenix. Keep in mind that I wrote the outline for this way before Half-Blood Prince came out and so everything in here has nothing to do with that. My own little creation, well, the plot of it is, so don't sue me or anything, cause ain't got nothing! So I hope all those who venture forth to read this little fanfic will enjoy it, cause I certainly enjoyed writing it.
Harry Potter and the Cave of Deceit
CHAPTER ONE
THE SUSPICIOUS SATCHEL
Never had there been a summer like this one. The atmosphere surrounding number four, Privet Drive was much more different than it had been for the last five years. Summer had barely begun, and already the teenage boy was getting restless. Sure, this teenage boy should have been more grateful than he was showing. After all, his aunt and uncle weren't up in his face as they usually were. In fact, they were quite nice to him, which actually frightened the teenager. He really owed some people, very important people, for the serenity that was now encompassed everywhere.
As he always had been, this teenage boy was skinny, but not without bulking up just a little bit, with jet black hair that never seemed to tame itself, bright green eyes, and glasses. Harry Potter might not have had rugged good looks, what with his scruffiness due to him wearing torn and dirty jeans, a baggy and faded T-shirt, with the soles of his trainers peeling away from the uppers, but he had much more "interesting," assets to his persona. Harry had many things in life. Fame, which came about when he received a scar when he was just baby, fortune, which he had inherited from his deceased parents, and pure luck, for you see he had escaped being killed by the person who gave him the scar that had made him famous, Lord Voldemort, and his ever faithful servants, the Death Eaters. Not just that, but this young man has saved the lives of countless people over and over again.
Harry was sitting up in his room, casually glancing out the window. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be happening, which had made Harry more and more restless. Things nowadays in the Muggle world really annoyed Harry, for he was an actual wizard. Back in the magical world, back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, life was much more exciting, truly magical, but not as safe as it was being where he was at the moment, living with his dreadful Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and the pudgy teen rebel without a cause cousin Dudley.
On the other hand, his Aunt Petunia wasn't as bad as she used to be. Ever since she received a Howler, a message one would get that would literally explode if you didn't open it just in time, from the headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts, she seemed to have a sort of silent respect for her nephew. She wouldn't lecture as often as she used to, and wasn't as cruel. In some aspect, she was almost treating Harry like her own son Dudley. Uncle Vernon, however, though he wasn't as accepting as his wife, he did tone down his threats and such.
After Harry got tired of looking out the window, he decided that the only thing to get his mind off his mundane life at Privet Drive was to do some of his homework. Grudgingly, he took out some parchment, his quill, and some of his school books. Harry laid on his bed, tapping his quill on the books. After a few moments thinking about what to write down, he sat up. It was no use. He was still restless and couldn't get Hogwarts out of his mind. Night and day he longed to go back there, even though it had been only a week since he left school for the summer holiday.
Harry decided that he wasn't going anywhere with his homework, so he gathered everything up and put them all back into his trunk an the end of his bed. A moment later, the sound of laughter was drifitng into his bedroom. Harry walked slowly to his window and saw the source of the laughter. It was a father and son, playing a Muggle sport, and for a split second, Harry felt a wave of emotion overcome him. Seeing the father and son bond with each other like that made him a little jealous, for you see, he never got the chance to know his own father, and the closest thing he had to having a father figure in his life was his godfather Sirius Black, who was taken away from him unjustly. Just when Harry was starting to really feel bonded with him Sirius was murdered. Harry felt tears starting to swell up in his eyes. He briskly wiped them away with the sleeve of his shirt. He shook his head and tried to think of something that would take his mind off of Sirius. The last thing he wanted to do was think about him; it was just too painful.
He suddenly remembered that he hadn't received any mail from anyone yet. Sure, it had only been week since he'd left school, but surely someone would have remembered to write him. Harry decided that instead of waiting for someone to write him, he would be the one to do the writing. So he went and got back out his quill and some parchment to write on. But before he could even put one word down, he heard a knocking on his door. Harry got up and slowly opened the door and saw that his cousin Dudley standing there, whose body was still in its boxing physique, looking quite disgruntled.
"What do you want?" asked Harry, eyeing Dudley suspiciously. "Come to beat me up?"
Dudley sneered at Harry.
"Mum wants you," said Dudley, who raised his knuckles threateningly, but then came to his senses and realized who he was talking to. "Hurry up or you'll get it."
"Don't forget Dudley, your mum and dad can't do anything to me anymore. You saw who was on my side at the train station, remember?" Harry chuckled as he followed his cousin downstairs.
"How could I have forgot? Those people were freaks. Especially the one with that revolving eye." Dudley shuddered. "Where do you meet these people anyway? A freak show?"
"No, that was just Moody, an old professor of mine from school."
Dudley gave Harry a frightened look.
"He was actually a teacher at your school? If it was me, I'd leave."
"Well actually, he really wasn't, and, oh never mind. If you ever saw the kind of food we get to eat Dudders, you might change your mind," said Harry, giving Dudley a sly look.
As they reached the bottom of the landing, Harry saw his aunt and uncle standing in the kitchen, who had their backs to them and were whispering very loudly. They didn't seem to notice that Harry and Dudley were just a few feet away from them.
"Vernon do you think it's wise to bring him along," said Aunt Petunia, who was wringing her bony wrists so much so that red marks were forming. "It might not be safe, because of, well, You-Know-Who."
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but decided not to. This was like the first time he had ever heard his aunt talk about Voldemort. This was just like last year, when both his Muggle world and wizard world collided into one.
"It's just going to be for only a day Petunia," snarled Uncle Vernon. "Besides, it's not like we're making him go out all alone into the world. We are going to be there with him, as well as all the relatives that are able to come."
Was he hearing things? Was Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia actually concerned for his safety? Harry pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. The stinging sensation told him he wasn't. And what did he mean about relatives?
"I don't know Vernon. You don't know what You-Know-Who is capable of. You see how frightened we are of Harry's kind. Doesn't it chill your bone to know that his kind were absolutely terrified of him?" A worried tone started to develop in Aunt Petunia's voice.
"All right, all right, yes, I am worried. But it's not like we can leave him here, even if you told me yourself that this here house is what's protecting him from that ruddy being! It's your blood that's protecting him, remember? Without you here with him, who knows what will happen! We have to be here with him now more than ever. That, and the fact that our relatives will say something if we don't bring him along. You know how gossipy they can get!" Uncle Vernon grinded his teeth.
This was just getting too weird for Harry. Never has he'd seen his aunt and uncle, who tried to make his life as miserable as possible, actually fretting over his safety. Harry decided to make his presence known and cleared his throat very loudly. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia whirled around and nearly jumped out of their skin when they saw who had made the noise.
"Oh, it's you," sneered Uncle Vernon. "Were you spying on us?"
"Dudley was here too, you know," said Harry coolly.
"Never mind him, I was referring to you boy," said Uncle Vernon, pointing a fat, chubby finger in Harry's face. "Were you or were you not spying on your aunt and I?"
"It's not like you two were in a bedroom with the door locked and whispering very quietly. You were standing here out in the open whispering very loudly!" said Harry bewilderedly. "And don't tell me you've forgotten? I can write to all my allies and they could come marching up to the front door whenever I feel a bit, oh, I dunno, unhappy!" Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gave a yelp of surprise.
"NO! No, don't do that. Yes, yes, you're right boy. Well, your aunt and I were just talking, and we should have known better that if we had wanted a little privacy, we should have had our conversation upstairs in our bedroom." It seemed that Uncle Vernon was having a great difficulty being nice to his nephew. If Harry didn't know any better, Dudley had a difficult time seeing his father being nice to him, who still wasn't used to the idea of things being really different and the whole lot of them had to tread carefully around Harry ever since he arrived back home.
"What were you and Aunt Petunia talking about?" asked Harry, deciding to take his chance and ask questions while his uncle was somewhat calmer.
"It's none of your ruddy business-" started Uncle Vernon, but stopped when he saw Harry raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I mean, you don't really need to know what we were talking about until the time comes boy," he continued through gritty teeth.
"You know what Vernon, I think we should tell him now," said Aunt Petunia. "It's no use stalling."
Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to disagree, but then saw the look on his wife's face, and changed his mind.
Harry stared at his uncle, waiting to be let in on the secret.
"Well boy, the Dursley family is going to have its very first family reunion this year," said Uncle Vernon, who tried to sound as polite as he could muster, "and seeing as to how you are in the Dursley family, on my wife's side through marriage only, it seems that well, that means we have to drag you along as well." Welcoming Harry into Uncle Vernon's family seemed like giving up a million dollars to charity, from Uncle Vernon's point of view. This seemed to be the most unpleasant experience imaginable, as Harry could tell on the look on his uncle's face. He wouldn't seem surprised if his uncle's teeth would be grinded down to dust if he kept gnawing them so profusely.
"You want me to come with you to your family reunion?" asked Harry uncertainly. This all seemed really bizarre that Harry had to pinch himself again. Once again, he felt a stinging sensation.
"Yes," said Uncle Vernon stiffly. "And you should be bloody grateful that you are allowed this honor to attending something as wonderful as this."
"You mean meeting more people like you?" said Harry, scoffing. "Thanks, but no thanks. I wasn't able to stand one Aunt Marge, let alone thousands of them going around insulting me and my parents."
Uncle Vernon's face swelled up. He also raised his knuckles threateningly, but he too realized who he was talking to.
"You should kindly show more respect boy, especially if we're bringing you along."
"Not if your relatives won't be," said Harry. "Besides, why do I have to go anyway? It's obvious that you don't want me to go, so why don't I just stay here. It is safer here, you know."
"Not without your Aunt Petunia it isn't! You are coming because you are part of this family, and my relatives will think it suspicious if you don't come!" bellowed Uncle Vernon.
"Vernon, Vernon, could I just have a quick word with you?" said Aunt Petunia, gesturing with her head that they go speak in private in the living room. Uncle Vernon shot a glaring look at Harry and followed his wife.
"You know, Dad's right. You should be grateful that he's actually letting you come with us to the family reunion." Dudley sneered at Harry.
"Of course you don't mind going. Everyone there will be welcoming you with open arms, and probably loads of presents to give you. By what your mum and dad probably told them about me, I'd be a plague and everyone there will be avoiding me. Now that I've come to think of it, that isn't necessarily a bad thing." Harry actually smiled at his cousin "Thanks Dudders, I wouldn't have thought of this family reunion that way without you!"
Dudley simply looked appalled. A minute later, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia returned from the living room. Without a word to Harry, Uncle Vernon made his way over to the telephone.
"Aunt Petunia, who is Uncle Vernon calling?" asked Harry.
"We'll tell you once we get something settled," she replied.
Harry glanced over to his uncle, who he saw was already in a heated discussion.
"Yes, yes, I'm very well aware that the family reunion is next week. No, I am not trying to sabotage it! I just thought it would be much better that the Dursley family reunion be held here at my house. We would be saving so much money since we wouldn't need to rent that huge hall..." Uncle Vernon's forehead started to drip with sweat.
"Mum, what's Dad trying to do?" said Dudley. "Why is he trying to have the family reunion at our house?"
"Now Popkin, just be patient, and in due time, we'll be able to tell you, all right?" Aunt Petunia pinched her son's cheeks, who muttered "Mum, don't do that," and walked toward his father. Aunt Petunia however stepped in front of him and asked if he wanted some ice cream while they waited. Dudley nodded and followed his mother to the freezer. Harry just stayed where he was and waited. After ten minutes or so had passed, Uncle Vernon hung up the telephone. As he made his way over to Harry and the others, he was wiping the sweat off of his forehead.
"Well, after a very difficult debate with my Cousin Albert, who is in charge of everything, he has allowed me to have the family reunion here!" Uncle Vernon smiled, but it quickly faded when his eyes landed on Harry.
"You," started Uncle Vernon, who once again pointed his pudgy finger in Harry's face, "you boy, are to be on your best behavior next week when the family reunion takes place. We are going to lock up all your school stuff away in the cupboard under the stairs and anything else of yours that you own that might seem suspicious, I mean it! I do not want anything peculiar lying about in your room. Anybody could just walk into your room and well, your aunt and I will be paraded with all these ridiculous questions that we would much rather prefer not to answer!" Uncle Vernon was breathing down heavily onto Harry's face.
"Why don't you just lock me in my room so that no one will accidentally come upon something strange in their eyes," suggested Harry sarcastically.
"Because people will grow suspicious of a room that's locked up, that's why. You do recall a few years ago when Mr. and Mrs. Mason came over and we told you to be quiet in your room while was I trying to make the biggest deal of my career, and you were making a bloody racket? Huh? And then you came and dropped a dessert onto Mrs. Mason's head? I will not have something like that happen again, mark my word boy!" Uncle Vernon continued to tower over Harry.
Harry nodded and thought back to the incident Uncle Vernon was referring to. How could he forget? Dobby the house-elf almost got him into huge trouble with the Ministry of Magic and had kept all of the letters his friends were writing to him. For a split second, Harry thought that that was the reason why he wasn't getting any letters from anybody, but then he thought, why would Dobby do that all over again? It didn't seem plausible.
"Why are we having the family reunion here anyway?" said Harry.
"I thought a boy as smart as you presume yourself to be would know," answered Uncle Vernon, snorting.
"Oh, you mean you're actually worried about Voldemort?" Harry was surprised when they all gasped when they heard Voldemort's name. This was the very first time they had ever done that. Harry held back a laugh.
"Don't say that!" said Dudley. "What if he hears?"
"It doesn't work like that Dudley," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "And since when have you lot actually worried about my safety? I know that you all wish that I be gone from this house, for good." Harry glowered at them.
"Ever since your aunt received that horrible screaming Howlie or whatever it's called, we don't want anymore things happening like that again, and so we thought that by keeping you safe, much to my dissatisfaction, nothing bizarre will happen. Knowing your kind, the worst things imaginable might happen at the family reunion if we don't. It will be guaranteed if we have it here in this house since it's supposed to have some sort of shield over you. If we had it at the hall, who knows who will come barging in at the reunion! We've known all along why you've had to come home every summer."
"And now I do too," said Harry quietly.
Uncle Vernon stared at Harry.
"You do? But we've never told you."
"The headmaster from my school just told me not too long ago," said Harry. He turned and looked at his aunt.
"What is it?" asked Aunt Petunia. "What are you staring at?"
"Nothing. Just thought about what Professor Dumbledore told me. And well, it's all because of you that I've been kept alive for the past fifteen years." Harry was still staring at Aunt Petunia.
"And?" sniffed Aunt Petunia.
"And well, I guess I've never got around to tell you this, but better late than never..." began Harry, who found it quite difficult to say what he had been meaning to say after all that Professor Dumbledore had told him, but knew he just had to. Aunt Petunia did take him in, no matter how much she didn't want to.
"Well, out with it boy, your aunt is waiting!" exclaimed Uncle Vernon.
"Thank you," said Harry, who continued to stare at Aunt Petunia, waiting to see what her reaction would be.
Surprisingly, Aunt Petunia smiled, but only for a split second before Uncle Vernon and Dudley would see. She quickly frowned at her nephew.
"Well, it's about time," said Aunt Petunia. "I've only been waiting for the last fifteen years to hear how grateful you are that we've taken you in." Aunt Petunia stared back at Harry, then added, "You're welcome," somewhat stiffly, but Harry could tell that there was a little tone of happiness in her voice.
"And what am I, a bloody throw rug? Don't I get any thanks too? I've worked my butt off to make sure everyone here, and that includes you boy, that we have a roof over our head and food on our table!" said Uncle Vernon, who was huffing and puffing.
"Oh, thank you too as well," mumbled Harry softly.
Uncle Vernon just snorted and walked around in the kitchen, now also mumbling under his breath.
After an awkward silence following this rare moment of saying thanks and such, Harry had just thought of something.
"Well, what am I to do at the family reunion then?" asked Harry. "Don't tell me that I have to go and make friends with those around my age."
"Oh no, definitely not! Who knows what you'll do. You might go blabbing to them where you go to school!" said Uncle Vernon. "No ruddy way!"
"Good then. They'll all probably make fun of me and my family and think I'm mental anyway after what you've probably told their parents about me. I'll be glad if none of the Dursley family will ever come up to me and insult me!" Harry started to turn around and leave the kitchen, but Uncle Vernon stepped in his way.
"You cannot leave until we come to an understanding," Uncle Vernon threatened.
"Yes, I think that can be arranged. I'll do whatever you want, as long as you do whatever I want." Harry smirked.
"Don't do anything he says Dad," said Dudley, who went to stand next to his father.
"Now listen here boy-" Aunt Petunia cleared her throat. Uncle Vernon's head shook in rage. After a moment of inhaling and exhaling deeply, he forced a smiled onto his face.
Through gritted teeth, Uncle Vernon said, "And what do you have in mind boy? Hmm? You want me to start giving you expensive presents or something?" Dudley groaned. Aunt Petunia held her tongue. Harry just smiled.
"No, nothing like that," began Harry. "All I want is for you to tell your relatives to leave me alone all throughout the family reunion, and I promise I won't say or do anything magical." The three of them shuddered at the mere mention of that word. After thinking for a few minutes, Uncle Vernon held out his hand.
"So do we have an agreement then?" said Uncle Vernon, whose outstretched hand was trembling slightly.
Harry stared at his uncle's hands, and then held out his. They shook their hands.
"Deal," Harry and Uncle Vernon said at the same time.
"And if anyone pushes me to the limit, I swear-"
"You can't do magic, remember?" said Uncle Vernon, an evil smile forming on his face. "You'll be expelled if you do."
"But I can still write to my allies, and they could very well show up on the day of the family reunion if you keep acting like this towards me." Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley all gasped very loudly and placed their hands over their mouths.
"You wouldn't," said Uncle Vernon, whose face was starting to look as bright as a tomato.
"Try me," said Harry coolly.
After Uncle Vernon reluctantly nodded his head to acknowledge the fact that he would tone down his threats, Harry turned around and headed back upstairs to his room.
"Don't forget boy!" yelled Uncle Vernon after Harry.
Harry looked sadly around his bedroom. There were no more traces of anything that was part of his wizard world anymore. The family reunion was less than three days away, and Uncle Vernon came by to his room everyday to inspect it to make sure that Harry didn't have anything hidden away in some secret spot. Unfortunately for Harry, he even managed to find the loose floorboard underneath Harry's bed in which Harry stashed some of his personal belongings. Harry hated the look on Uncle Vernon's face when he found it. It was simply full of malice.
"And I expect this room to be exactly like it is the same time tomorrow!" bellowed Uncle Vernon as he shut the door to Harry's room. He had watched sadly after him with the last of his school supplies clutched tightly in Uncle Vernon's arms. At least he knew all of it would be safely locked away in the cupboard under the stairs.
After slowly pacing around the room, Harry flopped himself onto his bed and sighed loudly. No one had still written to him. Uncle Vernon had allowed Harry to keep his quill and some parchment. He had threatened to him that if he didn't, then after when the family reunion was over, he would definitely write to his allies, who happened to be Mad-Eye Moody, Professor Lupin, Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Uncle Vernon decided that if anyone asked, he would tell them that this was Harry's way of showing his teenage rebellion, and that pens and paper were not his thing.
Harry looked across the room and saw a cage. This cage was also an object that Harry was allowed to keep. It was Hedwig's, his pet owl. Harry had told Uncle Vernon that he would hide Hedwig's cage in his closet and tell his owl to stay away from Privet Drive when the family reunion was taking place. He only agreed to this only when Harry told him that he could tell his owl to come flying in every hour or so when the reunion was taking place if he didn't let him keep Hedwig.
"I don't like you making threats at me boy," sneered Uncle Vernon.
"And I don't you making threats at me either," said Harry. "Hmm, all of a sudden I have this sudden urge to write something down with my parchment and quill." Uncle Vernon nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Okay, all right! I'll let you keep the bloody bird. Just make sure that I don't hear anyone mention anything about a bird cage or an owl when the family reunion is taking place." Uncle Vernon started across Harry's room swiftly without another word.
Harry protested but quickly shut his mouth when he saw Uncle Vernon give him a lurid look.
"Fine. Just keep those relatives of yours away from me." Harry crossed his arms and stared at Uncle Vernon.
"They're your family too, you know," said Uncle Vernon.
"Only on my aunt's side through marriage," said Harry coolly.
Later that afternoon, Harry sat at his window and watched the clouds and cars roll by. Just as he got up and walked to his closet to retrieve his trainers to go outside, he heard fluttering behind him. He turned around and saw a large snowy female owl land on top of his desk. It was his owl, Hedwig.
"Hedwig!" exclaimed Harry. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you for weeks now!" Harry went over and gently patted the top of his owl's head. She in turn nipped his hand affectionately. Harry looked at Hedwig's leg and saw that something was attached to her leg.
"What's that you've got there Hedwig? Is it a letter from someone?" asked Harry excitedly. Hedwig held up her foot. Harry frowned as he saw that it wasn't a letter that Hedwig was carrying. It was a small parcel, which was wrapped in smooth, brown paper. Harry untied the parcel from Hedwig's leg and sat down on his bed. Hedwig flew over to her cage and drank some water from her bowl.
For some reason, Harry was somewhat afraid to open the small parcel. Usually when Hedwig brought him something, he was more than eager to tear open whatever she brought. But at that moment, Harry was hesitant. He had this strange feeling that made him want to chuck the package out of his window. Shaking his head, Harry turned the parcel over in his hands to see who it was from. As if Harry didn't need anything else to make the package more untrustworthy, there was no return address or anything that said who the parcel was from.
"Odd," said Harry, who continued to turn the parcel over and over, thinking he might have missed a spot where a return address would be. But alas, nothing. "I've never received a package that didn't have a who or where it's from written on it Hedwig." Harry looked up at his owl. She was ruffling her feathers. "I wish you could talk, then you could tell me who had sent this." Hedwig just stared at Harry.
"Should I or shouldn't I?" Harry asked himself. There were like a million possibilities of what could be in this small parcel. Harry shook his head and thought that all this worrying was all for nothing. So, with his mind made up, Harry started tearing open the package from the unknown sender. When he had finished unwrapping the parcel, Harry stared at the object that he had just unwrapped. It was a satchel.
"What's this all about?" Harry asked himself. Now that he had unwrapped what was inside the smooth, brown paper, Harry now had to decide whether or not to look what was inside the satchel. Again, the uneasy feeling was coming over Harry. But yet again he decided to ignore his uneasiness and started to open the satchel. But just as he was about to shake out whatever was in the satchel onto his bed, which didn't seem to weigh that much, (in fact, the satchel felt as light as a feather), Harry heard a knock on his door. Harry hesitated, thinking over in his mind if he should answer the door first or just get it over with what was inside the satchel.
Dudley didn't give Harry a choice, because at that moment he had just barged into Harry's room right that second, closing the door behind him, with a scowling look on his face.
"You can't just come bursting in here! This is my room!" shouted Harry, who quickly stuffed the satchel in his pocket.
"Well, it used to be mine," retorted Dudley, "and it should still be mine if it hadn't been for your stupid parents getting mixed up with a mad man who eventually did them in and my parents unfortunately got landed with you!"
This was the last straw for Harry. He lunged at Dudley and started pounding whatever flesh there was, which was a lot. It wasn't easy though. Harry was once Dudley's first punching bag, and Harry knew Dudley wasn't going to be beat up by someone who was as scrawny as Harry.
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon must have heard the commotion from downstairs, seeing as to how they both came pounding up the stairs and threw open Harry's door.
"What the bloody hell is going on in here?" screamed Uncle Vernon. "Boy, what are you doing? Get your hands off of him!" Uncle Vernon lunged for Harry's fist just as it was about to come into contact with Dudley's face, whose lip was cut deep and bleeding. He wasn't alone. Harry's nose was bleeding profusely, and his lip was really swollen. "Well, is anyone going to tell me what was going on here before I pulled you two apart?"
"He attacked me Dad!" shouted Dudley. "He came out of nowhere and started punching me, and, and..." Dudley's eyes started to get watery. Harry knew better. Dudley was the Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast, and someone like Harry couldn't possibly make Dudley that badly hurt as he tried to make himself to be. Aunt Petunia cuddled her son.
"I did no such thing," argued Harry. "I mean, he was asking for it! He just stormed into my room and started telling me he doesn't have this room anymore to put all his rubbish in all because of my parents getting mixed up with Voldemort and getting murdered and me getting landed with you! He is just a selfish, stupid, pig who doesn't care about anyone but himself. Him not having this room isn't my fault. It wasn't my parents fault. It was all Voldemort's fault!" Harry turned away from Uncle Vernon and faced Dudley, who cowered in his mother's arms.
"Don't you dare let me hear you say that anything is mine or my parents fault! You have no right to! Nobody does!" Harry glared at Dudley, Aunt Petunia, and then turned around to face Uncle Vernon once again. "I never asked to live here! I never asked for my parents to be dead! I never asked for the people who are my only living family left to treat me as if I was some sort of disease and they would like nothing better than for me to be dead too! I never asked for anything terrible that's ever happened in my life, and just when I think the worst is over, here comes some more! I thought the only worst thing Voldemort could ever do to me was to kill my parents, but no, no! Thanks to him, I've lost the closest thing I've had to some decent family, and that was my godfather, Sirius Black! I loved him! I really did. I still do. He may not have been a blood relative, but he was much better than any of you will ever be!" Harry couldn't hold it in anymore.
Harry felt warm tears streaming down his face. He didn't care that Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley were seeing him cry. Maybe before, he would have, because he thought crying in front of the people who despised him the most was a sign of weakness, and Harry vowed to never show the Dursleys' some form of weakness. But now, Harry just gave in to his anguish. Without another glance to the three of them, Harry ran out of his room, down the stairs, and through the front door. He didn't know where he was going, and he frankly didn't care. All Harry wanted to do was to get out of the house.
The sun was setting, darkness was soon engulfing all the surroundings, and there was an eerie silence that was settling in, but Harry still didn't feel like heading back to the Dursleys'. He was now just wandering around in the park. He had stopped crying. Harry was feeling somewhat defeated. He had finally shown the Dursleys' that he was weak, and he never wanted to show them that, but now it was too late. Harry sat down on a bench with peeling red and gold paint. He threw his head into his hands, sighing deeply. His nose had stopped bleeding, and his lip was very sore to the touch.
Harry suddenly jerked his head up. He heard a tree branch snap, as if someone had just stepped onto it. The sound echoed very loudly in the park, which was quiet, too quiet. The noises that were usually in a park at night were gone. Harry stood up, looking all around him in the darkness. He decided to take out his wand. Muttering "Lumos," he shone his lighted wand throughout the surrounding darkness.
"Hello?" said Harry, his hand with the wand trembling slightly. "Anyone there? Show yourself!" It was silent again. "Be warned, I am armed!" shouted Harry. Thinking back a year ago when Professor Umbridge had sent a couple of dementors, (which wasn't likely to happen since Umbridge could no longer have any authority over the dementors, but still, it was possible that someone else could have sent some to him), and had almost given Dudley a Dementor's Kiss, Harry decided to head back.
Taking long strides in his steps, Harry kept glancing behind him every two seconds or so. Finally seeing the houses that were on Privet Drive, Harry started sprinting towards number four. Just as Harry was walking up the steps, a loud crash was heard not too far away. Harry looked behind him but couldn't find the source of the noise. Palms sweating, both hands shaking, Harry reached for the door. But before he could turn the knob, the door opened. Dudley's immense shadow was silhouetted in the doorway.
"Dudley, move! Get of the way! I need to get inside! Come on, get out of the way!" Harry tried to push his way past Dudley, but he just wouldn't budge. "Quit being a git and get out of the way!" It was no use. Harry didn't have the strength (he was still sore from their fight upstairs) and Dudley seemed determined to keep Harry outside.
Harry suddenly noticed that Dudley wasn't blinking. He seemed to be in some sort of trance. Harry waved his hand in Dudley's face. He still didn't blink.
"Er, Dudley, are you all right? Dudley? Dudley, what happened?" Dudley's arm suddenly shot out and his hand had grabbed a firm hold of Harry's shirt.
Harry saw Dudley blink at last.
"Why Harry? Why?" asked Dudley, who spoke in a somewhat robotic tone, who was now staring at Harry with a haunting look in his eyes.
"Why, why what Dudley?" asked Harry, who glanced behind him, checking to see if maybe the thing that had scared him in the park was behind him right now and that was perhaps the reason why Dudley seemed to be hypnotized. But, like before, nothing was there.
"Why do you want to take my place Harry?" asked Dudley, whose gripped seemed to grow tighter on his shirt. "Why do you want to take my parents away from me?"
"What are you talking about Dudley? I don't want to take your place. And I certainly do not want to take away your parents. What's come over you? Dudley, are you okay?" Dudley was blinking, but not in a normal way. His blinking was sluggish, and it was like watching someone blinking in slow motion.
"Do not lie to me Harry. I should have seen this from the very moment you came into our lives. You want to take my place. You want my parents. Looked at what you've done to them." Dudley continued to blink strangely.
"What do you mean what have I done to them? What's happened to them?" Harry tried to get a glimpse inside the house, but Dudley blocked his view.
"My parents are actually starting to like you. Just after you left, I asked Mum and Dad if they were going to punish you after what you did to me, and they didn't think it was necessary to punish you. In fact, they asked me to be a little more polite, more kind to you, to show you more respect. Can you believe that? My parents actually asked me to treat you the way they've never in their entire lifetime treated you. They've gone completely mental! Mad, mad I say! And well frankly Harry, I don't think I'm capable of doing what they are asking. In fact, I think I should just do the complete opposite."
The uneasy feeling was coming over Harry again.
"What do you mean by that Dudley?" said Harry, whose palms were getting all sweaty again.
"You need to go away Harry," said Dudley softly, drawing his face close to Harry. "I have to make sure that you can never take my place, and that you can never take my parents away from me. They are mine, Harry, mine, and now, now, I am going to kill you..." Dudley started choking Harry with his free hand, while the other one was still clutching Harry's shirt tightly.
"Dud-Dudley, don't!" gasped Harry. "P-please! D-don't d-do this!"
"Die!" screamed Dudley. "Die already!" Dudley's grip on Harry's throat was getting tighter and tighter. Harry's vision started to get blurry.
"S-stop Dudley, n-no!" Just when Harry thought this was the end for him, which Harry thought bitterly was a lousy way to go, considering that fact that he has had survived being eaten by spiders, poisoned by a basilisk, dementors nearly sucking out his soul, the maze in the Triwizard Tournament that had so many dangerous creatures, centaurs who wanted to harm both him and Hermione, Death Eaters, who would stop at nothing to please their master, not to mention escaping Voldemort countless times, Harry didn't want to go this easily, and especially not in the hands of Dudley. He'd rather be killed by Voldemort. He didn't want to be known as Harry Potter, the boy who escaped being killed by Lord Voldemort so many times, but yet couldn't do anything to save himself and died in the hands of a Muggle prat like Dudley. He groped for his wand, which he found in his front pocket, and pointed it straight at Dudley's face. For a second, Dudley's grip on Harry's throat loosened a little when he saw what was pointing in his face, but then Dudley shook his head and his grip became tighter than ever.
Harry's vision was getting blurrier by the minute. He tried to think of some spell to use on Dudley, but couldn't think straight while being choked to death. Even if Harry's vision was blurry, he could have sworn he saw movement behind Dudley. Suddenly, he heard screaming and gasping.
"What the bloody hell is going on here again!" Harry heard Uncle Vernon's voice yell. For the first time in his life, he was actually glad to see Uncle Vernon. "Boy, what is that thing doing in my son's face? Dudley, what are you doing?" Uncle Vernon took a step closer. Aunt Petunia did too, shrieking as to what was transpiring.
"Vernon! Vernon! Dudley's choking him! He's choking him!" screamed Aunt Petunia. "Do something!"
Uncle Vernon lunged forward and tried to pull away Dudley's hand grasping tightly as ever on Harry's throat, whose face was a deep shade of purple. It wasn't easy. Just as everything started to go black, Uncle Vernon managed to pry Dudley's hands away.
"Don't! Let me at him! He wants to take my place Dad! He wants you and Mum to be his parents! He can't do this to me!" Dudley tried to get to Harry, but Uncle Vernon held him tightly around the chest.
"Is that what he said?" asked Uncle Vernon bewilderedly. He looked at Harry, who had crawled inside the house and collapsed on the wall near the front door, which Harry had somehow managed to shut and lock. Harry was gasping and choking, inhaling and exhaling very loudly, wand still clutched in his hand.
"Is this true boy?" said Uncle Vernon, frowning and still keeping his tight grip around Dudley's chest.
"I-I d-don't know what that prat is t-talking about," stuttered Harry. "You s-should be a-asking him why he w-wanted to k-kill m-me!"
Aunt Petunia's face turned white, while Uncle Vernon stood there, mouth opened widely, but still clutching Dudley.
"You want to kill him? Why? Look, I know you and your cousin have had your differences, but that doesn't mean that you need to kill him son!" Dudley was struggling to get out of Uncle Vernon's arms.
"I told you already! He wants you two to be his parents and he wants to take my place!" shouted Dudley. "Just let me go, and I'll finish him off!"
"H-he's gone m-mad, I-I'm telling you," whispered Harry. He looked up and glowered at Dudley. "I n-never said any of t-those things he's a-accusing me of. Why would I ever s-say any of those things?"
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked at each other, then to Harry, and then finally to Dudley.
"He's right," said Aunt Petunia. "Harry would never say that he wants to take Dudley's place, or wanting us to be his parents."
"NO!" screamed Dudley "No! Let me kill him before it's too late! He wants to take my place! He, he, needs to, die. He needs to..." Dudley's eyes suddenly rolled up into his head. Now that Dudley wasn't struggling anymore, Uncle Vernon loosened his grip, and Dudley just collapsed.
"Popkins!" screamed Aunt Petunia, running to Dudley's side. "Are you okay?" Uncle Vernon bent down to take a look at their son.
"Yeah," gasped Harry. "Thanks for caring," he managed to say before finally collapsing himself.
Harry woke up the next day in his bedroom, throat very sore, vision hazy. Harry gropped his throat, thinking that Dudley was still choking him, but found no other set of hands gripping his throat. He felt around for his glasses and found them on his desk. He put them on, and gasped when he saw that someone was in the room with him. It was his Aunt Petunia, sitting on a chair.
"Aunt Petunia? What are you doing here? What happened? Where's Dudley?" Harry sat upright and waited for Aunt Petunia to answer him. He noticed that her eyes were bloodshot and that her bony hand was holding a tissue up to her nose.
"He's in his room, resting," said Aunt Petunia quietly. "He seems to be himself again. I guess we won't know for sure until he sees you."
"No bloody way! There is no way I am getting near that mad prat! He tried to kill me last night Aunt Petunia, and I don't even know why!"
"He kept saying that you wanted to take his place and that you wanted us to be your parents."
"You yourself said that I would never say those things!" said Harry, frowning. "Maybe it was the thing that was following me home from the park that did that to him," he said to himself quietly.
"What thing? Something was following you? What was it? Was it those dementors?" said Aunt Petunia, eyes bulging out slightly.
"No, no, I don't think it was dementors. It was something else. But I can't be too sure if it was that that changed Dudley and turned him mental."
"Did you see what was following you?" asked Aunt Petunia, who had gotten up from her seat and walked quickly towards Harry's bed. She sat down on it.
"All I remember is hearing a tree branch snap and a loud crash behind me when I was almost back here. As I reached the doorknob, Dudley opened the door and wouldn't let me inside. He was muttering rubbish, and then he tried to choke me to death."
"Weren't you going to do the same? We saw you pointing your wand in his face."
"I wasn't going to kill him! Mind you, I was just going to use a spell that would stun him, at least." Harry stared at his aunt. Surely Aunt Petunia wasn't defending Dudley, even given their history. He tried to kill Harry. He honestly thought Aunt Petunia was going to give Harry a little break, especially in this circumstance.
"Well, it didn't look like you had enough strength to use that wand anyway. It looked liked you were about to drop dead." Aunt Petunia looked down, dabbing the tissue to her nose.
"Were you crying all night long?" asked Harry uncertainly.
"I was," began Aunt Petunia, "but I wasn't crying for you, if that's what you mean."
"It wasn't," said Harry. "Besides, why would you ever shed a tear for me?" Harry also looked down, fiddling with his bed sheet.
"Look, you may not be my most favorite person in the world, but I'm not completely heartless." Aunt Petunia stared at Harry.
"You've done a damn good job of showing it," said Harry bitterly.
"I may have not been crying for you all night long, but believe it or not, I was actually worried about you. I thought Dudley had killed you last night when you had collapsed shortly after he did."
"No surprise there. You would rather cry for Dudley who just collapsed than cry for me who you thought had died." Harry's voice started to crack.
"After your uncle and I put you two to bed, you were fine all night long. Dudley on the other hand was mumbling the same rubbish he was yelling last night. It was frightening your uncle and I." Aunt Petunia looked solemnly into Harry's eyes. "I don't hate you Harry."
Harry looked up at his Aunt Petunia. For a split second, he actually thought she was sincere when she said that.
"Sure you don't," said Harry sarcastically.
"I don't Harry, really!" said Aunt Petunia. "I may act like I do, but I can't hate you, not after all that you've been through all these years." Aunt Petunia dabbed her nose again. "My sister would hate me if I did." Aunt Petunia saw the surprised expression on Harry's face and quickly got up from his bed and returned to the chair she was previously sitting on.
"I thought you hated my mother," started Harry. "You never talked kindly about her, or my father. You made it seem like she never existed." Harry glared at her. "So why should I believe that you actually care about me? You never cared for my mother, whom you refer to as a freak, so why shouldn't I think that you feel the same way for me? And since when do you care if my mother will hate you from where she is right now if you hate me? That doesn't sound like the Aunt Petunia I grew up with." Harry glared at Aunt Petunia before lying down with his back facing her.
It was quiet for a few minutes before Aunt Petunia spoke again.
"Believe what you want to believe, as I will do the same."
Harry continued to lay there, not wanting to turn around.
"Oh, I found this in Dudley's pocket. I didn't think that this was his, and I remember seeing him picking something up from your bedroom floor after you took off last night. Thought it was yours and figured you might want it back."
Harry turned around and saw Aunt Petunia place a small object on the chair she was sitting on. It was the small satchel. Harry didn't even notice that it was gone from his pocket. He stared at it.
"Er, thanks," muttered Harry under his breath.
"Well, just get better before the family reunion. We don't want the other Dursleys' thinking we aren't taking good care of the both of you because you two are in bed. I'll be back to check up on you later." Aunt Petunia gave an awkward smile at Harry before she shut his door.
Harry quickly got up from his bed and snatched up the satchel. But after a few seconds, Harry dropped it.
"Hang on," said Harry out loud to himself. "Aunt Petunia said that Dudley had gotten a hold of this satchel right after I took off. What if this is the thing that made Dudley go completely mental!" Harry slowly backed away from the satchel on the floor. Harry knew too well that just because an object was innocent looking on the outside, it didn't necessarily mean that that also applies to the inside. He thought back to his second year when an innocent looking diary had caused so much trouble at Hogwarts. It had belonged to Tom Riddle. This satchel could have been as bad as that diary.
"This little satchel must have done something to Dudley," muttered Harry softly. "It just has to be. But wait a minute... When I was holding it, nothing happened to me." Harry continued to stare at the satchel, thinking maybe something might pop out of it any second. But nothing did.
Harry suddenly gasped.
"It must be what's inside the satchel that made Dudley mad! Of course! That's why I didn't go mad too. I didn't see what was inside the satchel." Harry knew that he was risking a lot, but he had to know what was inside the satchel. Sure, he could have gone and asked Dudley, but he didn't want to risk being choked to death again. So, with a trembling hand, Harry picked up the satchel. Slowly, he opened it up.
Quickly, Harry shielded his eyes. Nothing happened. Seeing the chair that was next to him, he closed his eyes and dumped whatever was inside the satchel onto it. Harry didn't hear a sound of something dropping onto the chair. Thinking that maybe Dudley took out whatever was inside, Harry slowly opened his eyes. He was surprised to see that a handful of sand was now on the chair. It was the type of sand that had a powdery quality to it that sparkled with the light that hit down upon it.
Harry wondered if maybe Dudley did take whatever was in the satchel, and now it was sand which was left over. But Harry remembered that when he first picked up the satchel, it was as light as a feather, and that's exactly how heavy it felt before he dumped the contents. Somehow, Harry felt himself drawn to touching the sand. It was as if the sand was actually enticing him to touch it. Without thinking, Harry reached over and got a pinch of sand and placed it onto the palm of his hand. To his sheer amazement, the sand seemed to have dissolved into his skin.
Harry shook his hand, as if thinking the dissolved sand would come back out by doing that. But it didn't. Fear had started to overcome him again, just as it did yesterday night at the park.
"Where did it go?" Harry asked himself loudly, voice trembling slightly. "Oh no, what have I done?" As if some unknown source was listening, Harry
started to feel nauseated.
His vision had started to get blurry again, and everything started to turn dark all around him. Harry threw his hands all around, as if trying to get a hold of something, but there didn't seem to be nothing at all. The fingers and hand that had come into contact with the sand had now began to sting horribly. His head was searing with pain, as if a million sharp claws were trying to rip it open.
Suddenly, Harry started to hear voices inside his head. His vision had cleared up, and it no longer felt as if his head was about to be ripped open by a million unseen claws. However, his finger and hand continued to sting painfully. He was still in his room, but standing right in front of him was Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Now at first, this didn't seem that strange, but Harry soon realized that his aunt and uncle were standing in some green, hazy mist. They were smiling at him profusely. Harry then noticed that he could just barely see right through them, as if they were ghosts.
"Oh Harry, we are so happy to see that you are all better!" said Aunt Petunia, but her voice had an odd echoing quality to it.
"Come on boy, we need to get you to the store! We need to buy you everything you've always wanted! New clothes, new trainers, new everything! Since we no longer have a son, thank goodness for that, you can be our new one! Finally, our life is finally starting to look brighter than ever before!" Uncle Vernon had a smile on his face that stretched from ear to ear. His voiced also had the odd echoing quality.
Harry stood there, mouth hanging wide open, furrowed brow, speechless. He reached out to touch Aunt Petunia's shoulder, and his hand went right through it. It felt warm to the touch. Harry couldn't believe his eyes.
"What's the matter Harry? Don't tell me that you miss your dreadful cousin Dudley?" Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon laughed heartedly. "Honestly, I simply don't understand what we saw in that so-called son of ours. Good thing we got rid of him."
Harry finally found his voice and said softly, "You got rid of him? What do you mean by that?" Harry pinched himself, which seemed to be becoming a common action Harry was taking whenever it came to his aunt and uncle. The stinging sensation was now also on his arm where he had pinched himself.
"Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, what did you do to Dudley? You, you, didn't k-kill him did you?" Harry's throat was getting scratchy. He stared worriedly into their eyes.
"Kill Dudley? Harry, what else could we have done? That was the only solution we could think of in order for you to be our one and only son! Now that's he's gone, we can finally live happily ever after. We love you Harry, forever and always!" Aunt Petunia looked lovingly into Harry's eyes. Harry on the other hand shut his eyes straightaway. Thinking yet again that he was dreaming, he slowly opened his eyes and saw that he wasn't. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were still there, muttering rubbish about loving him and Dudley no longer being in the picture.
"What's the matter with you two? Have you gone mad? Come on, what's really happened to Dudley? What's that green stuff you're standing in? And why did my hand go right through you? Are, are you two dead?" Harry didn't know why, but a small part of him was actually starting to believe what his aunt and uncle were saying, but still felt shaken with the memory of his hand going right through Aunt Petunia's shoulder and the possibility that they might be dead.
All of a sudden a hand shot out in front of Harry's face and grabbed him around the shoulders. Uncle Vernon was pulling Harry in, and embracing him tightly.
"Hang on, you can't be dead! You're solid again!" said Harry worriedly. He turned to look at Aunt Petunia, who started to caress his face. Unlike the warm air Harry felt when he tried to touch Aunt Petunia when she wasn't in solid form, both she and Uncle Vernon were cold as ice and Aunt Petunia's hands felt clammy to the touch.
"We love you so much Harry. Don't you ever doubt that."
"Boy, how could we have been so stupid to waste our time on Dudley? You deserved so much more than he ever did. He was so spoiled, and you were and still are the most modest boy around Surrey! Come here!" Uncle Vernon hugged Harry more tightly. He shuddered from the coldness.
Harry pushed away from Uncle Vernon's arms and Aunt Petunia's clammy caressing hand. He was breathing rapidly.
"What's wrong Harry? Don't you believe us?"
"What's the matter with you boy? Isn't this what you've always wanted? Dudley's finally gone from your life, and your aunt and I are finally treating you like the family you've always wanted. We can be whatever you want us to be. Just say the word, and you can have all the things you've ever wanted at your life here at Privet Drive. You will no longer regret coming back here for the summer holiday." Uncle Vernon extended out a hand, beckoning Harry to come forward. Aunt Petunia held out her arms, as if to welcome Harry into them.
Harry looked back and forth from Aunt Petunia to Uncle Vernon. A small smile was forming on Harry's face. Harry started to extend his hand towards Uncle Vernon's. But just as suddenly as that smile appeared, it soon disappeared as well. He dropped his hand back to his side.
"Well?" said Uncle Vernon, whose echoing voice was starting to sound a little impatient, "What's it going to be? Are you going to let us give you all that you've ever wanted living here?"
Harry looked down at his feet, then slowly looked back up. There was no longer any trace of satisfaction of knowing for a fact that he could have whatever he had always wanted staying at Privet Drive. Instead, it was replaced with a hint of suspicion.
"What are you playing at? This isn't what I really want. Sure, Dudley and I don't get along as much as I'd like to, but I don't want him dead and gone from my life. I sure don't want to take his place and I certainly do not want to have you as my parents instead. I am happy, believe or not, having the things between the four of us stay the same as it has has always been. I don't want anything to change. Not now, not ever. Things happen for a reason, and if that means havingt the three of you despising me forever, so be it." Harry stared determinedly into Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's eyes.
Uncle Vernon reached out and tried to grab Harry again to embrace, but Harry saw to his amazement that his hand went right through him. He felt the warm air again. Uncle Vernon shook his head sadly. Aunt Petunia, on the other hand, started to shake her head feverently.
"No Harry, there is still time! We can still give you whatever you want! Anything, anything at all!"
"Petunia, the boy's made up his mind. Leave him be."
Aunt Petunia reached out her hand to caress Harry's face, but like Uncle Vernon's hand, it went right through him. Harry felt the warmness surrounding the area on his face where she had touched him. They both looked forlornly at Harry.
"Aah!" screamed Harry. "What's happening?" He once again started to feel nauseated, with his vision becoming blurry and darkness surrounding him all over. Harry tried to grab a hold of something, but stopped, remembering that there probably wasn't anything to grab a hold of like when all this had started. The stinging in his finger and hand was still there, but less painful than before. The claws that felt like they were trying to rip open his head earlier was back, but instead Harry felt as if something was scratching his head. His vision was starting to clear up. Then, just as suddenly as it began, everything that Harry was experiencing had stopped. He opened his eyes, and saw to his immense relief that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were no longer standing there, and the green, hazy mist had vanished.
Harry stared all around him. Everything was back to normal. Nothing unusual was in his room. He glanced at the chair. The sand was still there. He got a small broom and dust pan from his wardrobe and swept up the rest of the sparkly powdery sand back into the satchel. He ran downstairs quietly, which he saw was all ready for tomorrow's family reunion, and went outside to dispose of it. The sun was setting. As Harry sighed heavily and headed back inside, Aunt Petunia saw him.
"What are you doing out of bed? What were you doing outside? Are you deliberately trying to get more ill to make us look bad?" asked Aunt Petunia heatedly. "Well, what were you up to?"
Harry stood frozen to where he was standing, mulling something over in his head for a minute, and then walked up to Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon had entered the living room, where they were. He looked deep into their eyes. They gave him worried looks.
"Do you love me?" asked Harry tentatively. "Do you still want to give me whatever I want? Do you still want me as your one and only son?"
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia burst into fits of laughter.
"What are you talking about boy? Have you bumped your head or something?" Uncle Vernon wiped a tear from his eye.
"Do you have a fever? Are you hallucinating?" Aunt Petunia stopped laughing when she saw Harry grinning from ear to ear at him.
"What are you smiling about boy?" said Uncle Vernon, who also saw Harry smiling gleefully and stopped laughing.
"So Dudley's not dead then?" said Harry, still smiling profusely.
"Yes! And what are you so happy about? Are you actually smiling because he's still alive? After what he tried to do to you? I would actually consider it normal if you were weeping because he is still alive. You being happy about it is actually scaring me." Uncle Vernon sneered at Harry. "And what's all this rubbish about us loving you, giving you whatever you want, and us wanting you as our one and only son? Petunia, this boy must be hallucinating!"
Harry was now the one having fits of laughter.
"What in the world is the matter with you?" said Aunt Petunia, scowling at Harry. "Were you having a dream? Is that what all this is about? Well, you're awake now. And why are you asking if Dudley's dead? Oh no, did you do something to him? Did you dream about him being dead?" Before Harry could answer, Aunt Petunia turned around and ran upstairs. Uncle Vernon followed suit. Harry ran after them.
"DUDLEY!" screamed Aunt Petunia. "Popkin, are you okay?" Aunt Petunia burst into Dudley's bedroom, which was much more bigger than Harry's, with Uncle Vernon and Harry not too far behind.
"What? What's going on? What happened?" asked Dudley groggily. Apparently, Dudley was asleep. He rubbed his eyes and jumped when he saw Harry standing next to Uncle Vernon. He scowled at him.
"What's he doing here?" asked Dudley, who started to get up and pulled his blanket off of him. "Tell him to get out of my room!"
"Why should I?" retorted Harry. "You didn't get out of mine, so why should I get out of yours?" Dudley got out of his bed and made his way toward Harry. Uncle Vernon saw this and blocked his path.
"Why are you protecting him?" asked Dudley, who eyes started to grow wide. "Wait a minute, Harry's taken my place, hasn't he? And now you two are his parents? I knew it! Let me finish what I started!" Dudley bellowed as he tried to make his way around Uncle Vernon, but it was no use.
"Get a hold of yourself son!" screamed Uncle Vernon. "Where did you get the idea that Harry wants to take your place? And you boy, what's this rubbish about us loving you and giving you whatever you wanted? All that is pure nonsense! Get it out of your head! The Dursley family reunion is just around the corner, and I cannot have you two acting like this. Petunia and I will look like a bunch of fools who do not know how to raise a couple of teenagers!"
Dudley and Harry stared at each other, not daring taking their eyes off the other. Harry suddenly remembered something that he had been meaning to ask Dudley and decided that now was the best time to ask him while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were there with him. That way, there was a less likely chance that Dudley wouldn't get the chance to finish what he had started.
"Dudley, I know that you took that satchel that must have fallen out of my pocket the night we had our little disagreement. Aunt Petunia told me she saw you." As Harry said this, Dudley shot a sharp look at his mother, who grimaced. "Did you touch what was inside the satchel? Because I think you did." Dudley eyed Harry suspiciously.
"Prove it," sneered Dudley.
Harry sighed, who started pacing around Dudley's room.
"Well, if you did, then that explains why you acted the way you did the night you tried to strangle me to death. You heard voices, didn't you? Voices that told you lies. Believe me, I know. "
"What do you know boy?" said Uncle Vernon, wagging his fat finger in Harry's face, who stopped pacing. "Do you mean to tell me that you know what caused my son's abnormal behavior the other night? And what do you mean by hearing voices? Does this have to do with something with your kind?"
Harry, with a furrowed brow, nodded slowly to Uncle Vernon.
"There was some sort of peculiar sand that was inside the satchel," said Harry.
"Peculiar sand? Wait a minute, was that sand the thing that made my son mental?" bellowed Uncle Vernon.
"And what do you mean lies? That sand made me see what you're really up to, and I won't let it happen!" Dudley yet again tried to get to Harry.
"Listen to me Dudley, that sand lied to you! Come on now, didn't you find it a bit odd, you being a Muggle and all, that touching sand that stings horribly and the feeling like a million claws were trying to rip open your head didn't seem a bit strange?" Dudley frowned.
"How did you know-"
"I know because the exact same thing happened to me! After everything came back into focus, I saw Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon standing in some green, hazy mist. I know that that sand isn't what it perceives itself to be, which I thought was harmless. It was telling, or more like showing us, downright lies."
"Wait a minute," started Uncle Vernon. "Were you actually serious in telling me that sand was the thing that made you and Dudley go mental? Ha! Do you want us to actually believe that? You two could just be having some sort of teenage rebellion. At least that makes more sense." Aunt Petunia nodded. "Boy, you are starting to act like you actually attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys."
"Look, do you want to know the truth about what happened to Dudley and I or not?" said Harry quickly. "I know this all seems quite odd for people like you, but come on now, after what you all have seen these last five years, do you think anything is impossible?"
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia turned and glanced at each other.
"He's right Vernon," said Aunt Petunia. "Let's listen to what he has to say."Uncle Vernon just grunted.
"Look, that sand that Dudley and I touched is some sort of dark magic. After Aunt Petunia left my room, I went to get the satchel, which she had left on the chair she was sitting on earlier. I know from experience that innocent looking things can really be deadly, but I just dumped the sand onto the chair and, I don't know what came over me, but I just touched the sand. After touching it, I started to feel nauseated, my vision got blurry, and everything started to turn dark all around me. There was nothing I could hold onto. I felt a horrible pain in my finger with which I had touched it and the palm of my hand which I placed it on, and my head felt as if sharp claws were trying to rip it open, and then I started to hear voices. My vision started to clear up, and the pain lessened. I was still in my room when all this happened. And then, I saw you two."
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both frowned.
"But we were never in your room," started Uncle Vernon.
"Please, just be quiet and listen!" said Harry impatiently. Uncle Vernon grunted again.
Harry then went on to tell Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon about the green, hazy mist they were standing in, the coldness and warmth he had felt when they touched him, and all the things they had told him. They had appalled looks on their faces when Harry told them about the both of them hugging and caressing Harry's face.
"Do you mean to say that you actually heard us telling you that we would give you anything that you wanted? And that we love you? Ha! Rubbish! We would never say anything like that! Don't get me started on the hugging." Uncle Vernon chortled. Aunt Petunia however, didn't seem to find anything funny.
"And we also said that we had killed Dudley?" asked Aunt Petunia, voice slightly trembling. "That sand is absolutely horrible! I hope you disposed of that wretched thing!" She went to Dudley and started hugging him.
"Remember when you asked me what I was doing outside?" asked Harry. Aunt Petunia nodded. "That's what I was doing, disposing it." Aunt Petunia sighed with relief. Uncle Vernon, on the other hand, wasn't so relieved.
"I can't believe you are buying this boy's rubbish Petunia!" said Uncle Vernon heatedly.
"It's not rubbish Vernon," retorted Aunt Petunia. "It makes complete sense."
"What?" asked Dudley and Uncle Vernon at the exact same time.
"Did all that same stuff happen to you too Dudley?" asked Harry, who bravely walked right up to him. Dudley raised his knuckles slightly, but lowered them down, seeing Aunt Petunia raising an eyebrow at him. "I mean, just the part about the pain you would experience after you touched the sand? I don't mean our experiences had to be exactly the same, just some similarities."
Dudley grinded his teeth, sneering at Harry before nodding reluctantly.
"But it all seemed so realistic," said Dudley quietly. "What I heard you telling me what far worse than the pain I felt."
"You saw me?" asked Harry, looking at Dudley's face, as if checking to see if he was lying. He seemed dead serious.
"Oh wait, of course you saw me. That's why you acted the way you did. You saw me, and that fake Harry was telling you that I wanted to take your place and that I was going to take your parents away from you..." Harry stood there, contemplating what he had realized.
"How do I know for sure that you aren't that Harry?" asked Dudley suspiciously. "For all I know you still can be."
"Honestly Dudley, if I was that Harry, wouldn't your parents be all nice to me and detesting you?"
"My Dad wouldn't let me beat you to a pulp!" said Dudley, who towered over Harry, who didn't flinch one bit.
"We don't want the Dursley's thinking we beat him at the family reunion son," said Uncle Vernon.
"You can say that I did," said Dudley, who raised his knuckles up in Harry's face.
"Popkin, we also don't want them to think we raised a juvenile delinquent," said Aunt Petunia, who gently patted her son's back.
"Look Dudley," intercepted Harry, who shook his head disapprovingly at the three of them who were more concerned about what the Dursleys would think if Harry was bruised up all over. "Things like this aren't that unusual in my world, and well, I guess you have to trust me on this one. If I really wanted to take your place, would you be here right now? Are your parents acting any different? I think they detest me still the same."
Dudley stared at him for a few moments, and then at his parents. Sighing heavily, he muttered "Whatever," and went to lie back down on his bed.
"Well, if we're through here, I think we should go to bed now. Big day tomorrow! I want everyone to be on their best behavior," said Uncle Vernon, who glared at both Dudley and Harry. Harry just smiled, which made Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon nervous.
"What are you smiling about? I would have thought the Dursley family reunion would be the most unpleasant experience for you," said Uncle Vernon, who eyes had turned to slits.
"As long as your relatives leave me alone all day and all night tomorrow, I will be quite happy. If they as so much insult-"
"Yes I know, I know boy," interrupted Uncle Vernon. Tell you what. I'll just introduce you to them and you can just leave afterwards. You can stay in your bedroom, but I can't guarantee they will listen to my warnings about you and that someone will try to sneak up there while we're not looking. Probably most likely the people around your age. Like they'll listen to their parents when they tell them you attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. That'll probably make them want to meet you more."
"Just try your best, that's all I'm asking. Otherwise-"
"Yes, I know boy! Your aunt and I will do our best, as should you." Harry nodded and said goodnight to them. Uncle Vernon just grunted in response.
As Harry laid on his bed, taking his glasses off and placing them on his desk, he sighed loudly.
"I'll just say hello to whoever I meet and then leave," Harry muttered to himself. "Uncle Vernon's right. There are bound to be people coming into my room. Probably curious as to what the bedroom of a student who attends St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys would look like. They'll be highly disappointed. There's absolutely nothing in my bedroom that would be of any interest to anyone. Uncle Vernon made sure of that."
