AN: Wow! I am on fire! Two stories in three days! I must be really bored... So this is another Dudley story. I was thinking about adding it as a second chapter to my last story, but I decided against it becasue it is in 3rd person, where the last one was first person. Once again, THIS STORY IS NOT AN ORIGINAL IDEA! It is based on Call-me-Cassandra's story Fortunate Son just like the last one, except it is based on chapter seven, Turning and Turning. Dudley is bored one day during the summer between Harry's third and fourth years, so he decides to go upstairs and search Harry's room for fun. I can't think of much more to say, so enjoy!
In the two hours between his TV shows, Dudley Dursley had already walked to the kitchen, stared sadly into the fridge filled with vegetables for his diet, squashed an insect, and even gone outside to make fun of his horrible cousin. He was really quite pleased with himself, because that was a whole lot of work to do in one hour.
But that was just the problem. It had only taken one hour. He still had another whole hour until he could sit back down on the couch and watch an afternoon long marathon of his favorite show. He had to wait a whole hour, and he was already bored out of his mind.
He could go outside, and maybe find some of the younger children in his neighborhood to terrorize. No, that wouldn't be fun all by himself. All his friends were either away or busy that day. He could always go back outside and make fun of the boy again, but that was not a good idea either. You see, Dudley didn't like to even think the word, but The Boy, Harry, was a—a—a wizard. A freak! He had been off at his third year of freak school during the year, but now it was summer, and he was back. And Dudley had to share a house with him! The injustice of it all was too much. So Dudley always made sure to make his dratted cousin's life as horrible as possible.
He had already gotten him in trouble once today. Most parents would be able to see right through the fat boy if he did it again, but not Dudley's. See, they hated the boy even more than he did, and they didn't mind raising their voices with him, or even their fists. When this happened, it was Dudley's favorite sport to watch.
But back to why bullying him again was a bad idea. He could do magic now! Two summers ago, he had dropped a pudding with abnormality, and though he had ruined Dudley's father's very important business deal, they had found out that he wasn't allowed to do magic outside of school. But that didn't stop him the next year when he had caused Dudley's Aunt Marge to blow up like a balloon and float away. Though the only person he had ever hurt had recovered just fine, he was sure that The Boy also knew some tricks that could really hurt him. And though the letter that had come right after he did the pudding trick warned that if he did anymore, he would be expelled but there was really nothing stopping him. Nobody had gotten mad at him last year! Maybe it was only two years ago that he couldn't do his—thing—outside of school. Also, going outside, where Harry was doing yard work, would be too much walking.
But then, Dudley had an idea. He had always considered himself a smart boy, his parents told him so, and this just proved it. He had a way to get The Freak in trouble without even having to talk to him. In his room, which was really Dudley's second one, he had all his things in his trunk. Dudley could just simply walk in, and search that trunk. He was sure that a bad boy like Harry would have to have something bad in there. Maybe it would be something so bad that he would not only get into trouble with Dudley's parents, but also with his freak world!
A crafty smile forming on his face, Dudley waddled up the stairs. Anyone watching probably would have felt bad for those poor blocks of wood. Just hearing their squeaks and moans of protest at the fat boy's weight made your arms and legs ache.
When he reached the second floor, Dudley was panting. Thank goodness that Harry's room was the first door on the right, and that he didn't have to walk all the way down the hall. He pushed open the door. Luckily it didn't creak. As tough as Dudley acted, he really didn't feel like his cousin catching him searching his room was something he wanted to happen.
Closing the door quietly behind him, Dudley started to examine the unfamiliar room. There was the bed in the corner. The sheets were so messy they were almost knotted. Maybe that was him making the weird sounds Dudley heard in the night. Could his cousin be having nightmares? What about though? Freaks didn't worry about anything! That's why their world was so bad!
Looking around some more, Dudley noticed that it was not just the bed that was messy. Various items were scattered all over the floor: papers, books, other random junk, and some clothes were hanging halfway out of his trunk like he had started to unpack but decided against it.
Dudley started with what was closest to him. With great difficulty, he leaned down and picked up a piece of rolled up paper on the ground. It was thicker than he had expected and was yellowed. Perhaps it was old, or maybe freaks used this kind of paper all the time. Letting his curiosity get to him, he unrolled it and saw that it was dated from last April. Dudley began to read it, but quickly threw it down. It seemed to be some sort of essay. The fat boy couldn't understand half of it, but he could read well enough to see that Harry had gotten full marks. For reasons he couldn't put his finger on, this angered him.
Next, Dudley wandered over to Harry's large wooden trunk. If he had any sort of freak drugs or something, they would most likely be in here. Seeing as the trunk was on the floor, Dudley tried to kneel, but as that wasn't working he just leaned over.
Inside, there was a great deal of things. Mostly, there were crumpled school uniforms that had obviously been thrown in with haste. White shirts, black pants, grey sweaters and sweater vests, ties, black shoes, and what might have even been robes. On the breast pocket of those weird robe things, there were seals with a lion on it. Letters underneath spelled G-R-Y-F-F-I-N-D-O-R. Dudley tried to put those letters together to form a word, but he simply couldn't. Stupid freak words were so difficult!
Pausing to look around, Dudley also noticed a small gold and red banner on the wall, with an identical lion and what was probably the same word. He was not stupid, so he could tell that those letters didn't spell Hogwarts, the name of the boy's freak school. Whatever it was though, it was something that you would show off and have pride it. Perhaps it was the boy's new favorite sport team? It would be some sort of freak sport or course, so Dudley looked no further. That was not the sort of thing he wanted to know about.
Looking in the trunk again, he noticed some more things that were much more interesting. There was a round black pot, a broomstick, and some books. Generally, a pot and a broom would have been associated with cleaning. Maybe that school made Harry clean! Dudley laughed a bit at the idea. But, he remembered some old legends about freaks he had heard once. They used black pots called cauldrons to make potions, and they flew on broomsticks. Could that be true? Taking a closer look at the broom, Dudley saw that it was very polished and had fancy gold labeling on the side. Each of the twigs in the tail were pointed exactly to perfection, and while Dudley doubted that it would be very good for sweeping, he thought it was probably a very expensive and important freak artifact. Something that most freaks probably wanted. And though he couldn't explain why, Dudley felt a twinge of jealousy. Maybe it was because the Freak wasn't supposed to have anything good, but he shoved the thought away. There was nothing good about a strange broom.
Even though it was not like Dudley, he picked up the first book on the stack. It was green, with silver lettering on the front that he sounded out to be Intermediate Potions. He opened it, thinking that there might be a secret compartment inside. Instead, he found that each page, it seemed, had a recipe for a different mix, and a picture of whatever it was supposed to do. It must have been a trick of the light, but Dudley swore he saw a drawing of a violently retching man move. After looking through enough of the book to see that there were very strange ingredients, he threw it back on the pile before he died of boredom.
Searching for anything else at the bottom of the trunk, Dudley found some broken feathers with ink stains on the ends, (could freaks possibly use them to write like people did in olden times?) scraps of paper, and little bits of dirt. Throwing the clothes back in with disgust at finding nothing bad, Dudley contemplated where to look next. Where would anything important be hidden? Did freaks even have things that were important to them? Dudley was sure their minds didn't work the same way.
Getting up, he spotted a stack of things on Harry's nightstand. He wasn't sure if they might be dangerous, but he approached anyway. The first thing was another piece of thick yellow paper. This time, rather than an essay, it appeared to be a letter. Having inherited a bit of his mother's nosiness, Dudley skimmed it quickly. At the bottom, it was signed: Sirius.
Sirius? Like Sirius Black? That murderer who had escaped from prison? Dudley vaguely remembered Harry saying something about him being his godfather, but he had assumed his cousin was lying. But here was a letter, checking to make sure everything was alright. Pushing it quickly aside, Dudley looked at the next thing, a book called Flying with the Cannons.
It was orange, and on the front, there was a picture of 7 smiling people in orange robes. (Three standing in the back, three kneeling in the middle, and one sitting in front.) The three in the back were just holding their brooms, except for the one in the middle holding a red ball with dents in it. The people on either end of the middle row were holding small clubs, and the person between them had his hand clasped around a tiny golden ball. The person in front was wearing extra padding, his broom lying down in front of him. The strangest thing though, was that they were all moving. They were shoving each other good naturedly, the little gold ball was trying to fly away, and a couple times the people with clubs would whack someone with them. As they were all wearing the same things and had a group name, Dudley assumed that they were some sort of sports team, but did not want to know anymore. Freaks sports were not to be associated with.
Pushing that too aside, he uncovered the last thing, a leather-bound book with no title. The only thing on the cover was a picture of a huge castle, with countless towers, and sloping grassy grounds with thousands of shade trees. The sky was blue, and the picture was taken so that you could see a large forest in the background. Looking at the windows to judge how tall it was, Dudley lost count, and realized just how huge the castle must be. What was it though?
This peaked Dudley's curiosity. Opening it, he was astonished to discover that it was a photo album. The first picture was of a young red-haired girl. She was very pretty and Dudley wouldn't have recognized her if it hadn't been for her emerald green eyes. Harry's eyes. She must be Harry's mother. She looked about eleven, and she was on a red couch doing homework with a feather. She was glaring at the camera, but you could tell it was a good natured glare because her lips kept twitching. This too, was a moving picture.
The next one was of a young boy who looked exactly like Harry, except for the hazel eyes. He was sitting on the stone floor at the foot of a bed, clutching at his stomach and laughing hysterically at something. He must have been in a dormitory at the freak school.
The pictures seemed to alternate people. Both of them were constantly surrounded by friends, and they must have been quite popular. Sometimes, there were pictures of the girl outside lounging at the shore of a lake, and the boy flying around on a broom stick, or sitting under a tree with his friends. Sometimes even, there would be a picture of the girl yelling at the boy, who seemed to be rather enjoying it, like he had set her off on purpose. Finally, when they looked like they were college aged, they started to be photographed together, laughing, hugging, and even once kissing. That picture was probably taken by a mischievous friend without their knowledge. There were pictures at their wedding (the bride looked stunning in white), and finally, a small family portrait where the two parents were staring lovingly down at a baby, who must be Harry.
Dudley was stunned. That beautiful red-head was his aunt, his dead aunt, and the black haired man was his dead uncle. Never before had he even thought of them, and now, here was almost their whole life story. Turning to the final few pages of the books, there were a couple pictures of Harry with a red-haired boy but most of them also had a bushy haired girl in them too. Dudley vaguely remembered seeing them at the train station a couple times. They were in the same room with the red couches where so many of the other pictures had been taken, in similar dormitories, in black winter cloaks standing on the snowy grounds with their backs to a snowy castle, and even at the shore of the same lake. Dudley realized this must be freak school! How could it be so beautiful?
The last picture was of Harry with a whole family of red-heads. There was an older woman Dudley remembered from the train station, and an older man who must have been her husband. There was also dignified looking boy with glasses standing strait, two scarily identical twins with a tangible air of mischief around them, the red-haired boy who was in most of the other pictures with Harry, and the daughter Dudley remembered from the train station a few years ago. She was getting to be very pretty. Two people had been pasted in at the sides, another red head with long hair and an earring, and a stocky red-head with huge muscles and lots of burns. They all resembled each other, so they were probably a very large family. Harry, the only one with black hair, was standing in the middle of all of them, smiling madly, and even though there was no caption to say it, Dudley knew that Harry thought of these people as his family.
His family. But Harry lived with him! He and his parents were his family! True, they were nasty to him, and they didn't want him around, but it felt wrong, that picture. It felt like they had done something very wrong.
Flipping the page over to see a couple more empty slots to add pictures as time went on, he put down the book and exited the room quickly. Even when he saw a long stick that could only be a wand on the other side of the nightstand; he was too muddled to even jump away from it like he usually would. Closing the door quietly, he lumbered into his room where he promptly fell on the bed.
Harry had a different family. As much as Dudley wanted to be rid of him, he always just assumed that he needed them, but really, he didn't. He could just go live with them. He always did before summer was over anyway. But they were his real family! He had seen proof of his aunt, Harry's mother, his mother's sister, just today! No one had ever mentioned her before, and it felt so weird to see her for the first time just now. He felt betrayed, by two things. The fact that he was just now discovering his aunt but also that Harry had his biological family right here but he chose the adoptive kind instead. Were they really that bad?
Dudley sat there for a while, pondering something for the first time in his life. Looking over at the clock, he discovered that he had used up much more than an hour, so he waddled back down the stairs and plopped himself on the couch in front of the TV. But for the first time ever, that wasn't enough to distract him.
Realizations can do that to you.
AN: Love it? Hate it? Tell me! I always appreciate the feedback. If I ever want to get a book published I need to get better (and come up with my own plot line, which might take a while. Thats why I write fanfiction, because I can use other peoples ideas.)! Anyway, I'm not feeling very talkative today, but I do feel like telling you that my Social Studies teacher called me a "real cool kid" on my report card, which I just got today. I think this is amusing because I am a total nerd. So, go check out Fortunate Son, by Call-me-Cassandra. It must be good if it's inspiring all these ideas. (And again, no, I am not being paid to advertise. I just feel bad for taking her ideas.) Until my next story, whenever that may be, eat cookies, watch the womens world cup, and have a nice life!
~Lulu =)