She was beautiful. Her black cloak hung around her body as she floated in mid-air, adding to the mystery of the figure that brought the delicious chill with her. Vernon was shivering, but he didn't care – he could gaze at that shadowy beauty for the rest of his life and that would be all that he ever needed.
It had been a summer's night when she first arrived, lingering outside his window. Petunia had pulled the covering closer to her, probably to try and get warmer, and the chill had awoken Vernon from his sleep. Wondering at the cold, he had immediately blamed that blasted Potter boy for the freakish change of weather – mistakenly so.
Vernon had ripped open the curtains, looking for something that was proof for him to punish the freak, when he had seen her. Hers was an ethereal beauty that Petunia would never managed even in her dying days. Petunia held no mystery, just misery, and Vernon felt terrible about blaming Potter for this beauty. The thought of Potter being responsible felt like it was sucking all the happiness from meeting this strange and silent beauty on this night.
The fact that no one else seemed to see her, Potter sending glances her way did not count in Vernon's opinion – it was probably just the boy's attempt at stealing more of what was his, didn't bother Vernon in the slightest. It just meant that he was special, and that she was meant for his eyes only.
The breathy whisper that was her voice was like a thousand church bells whispering his name, begging him to come closer, to give in to her, but Vernon couldn't, not yet. Not while Petunia was in the same room, at least. Petunia may not be able to see her, but Vernon didn't want to risk his nameless beauty.
She followed him everywhere now, and his skin was becoming more and more chilly as it grew accustomed to the now constantly cold temperatures. People had taken to avoid being near him, but Vernon couldn't say that they mattered. Only she did, and she knew it.
Vernon could see Potter, Petunia, and his Dudders exchanging worried glances now. They were keeping secrets from him, but they were allowed their secrets if he was allowed his right? Not that it would matter for too long.
The shadow beauty had promised that they would be together soon, that she would take him away with her. They would run off into the sunset with each other, where they would finally kiss for the first time.
Vernon couldn't wait. He felt like a lovesick teenager again, but he couldn't help it. His stomach churned every time she was around – the fact that it felt like he was about to throw up was certainly not worth mentioning. Surely it was just nerves, but Vernon couldn't tell for sure: he had never felt this way for Petunia.
"Vernon! No! You have the ugliest soul in the world! For God's sake, don't let her kiss you!" Petunia screeched, and Vernon was reminded strongly of a horse. All she needed to do was toss her head and- ah, there it was. Vernon laughed to himself, and he could feel her hand shaking where it lay on his shoulder.
They were trying to stop him, but he wasn't going to listen. They just wanted to keep them apart. He would see under her robes today and have his first glance at her face, and hopefully the rest of her body too.
"Dad! I don't want to see what my soul looks like! Harry said it would look exactly like yours!" Dudley whined noisily, looking as if he was going to throw a tantrum at the very thought of it.
Vernon's fingers reached for hers, melding them together on his shoulder. He was frightened and upset by their look of being nothing more than bones.
"You haven't been eating, have you? Do I have to feed you for you to eat properly?" Vernon asked his beauty angrily. She pulled back slightly as if hurt, and Vernon immediately apologised.
"I do wonder if he was attracted to you by the stench of your soul…" Potter's voice added to the whining and tears from Dudley and Petunia. "I mean, Dudley is probably a close second. The two of you together would have produced such a horrible smell that it would have sent even Death reeling. That's probably why Death sent his messenger."
"She's not a messenger! She's my love!" Vernon screamed, nearly crying at the fact that no one seemed to be listening to him.
"Why don't you just kiss your bride, then? This is becoming one grand waste of time."
"I will then!" Vernon said, turning to face the cloaked figure.
He brought her in for a soul-sucking kiss, before his body went slack and he hit the ground. The dementor choked and, in Harry's opinion, looked like he was painfully convulsing in mid-air before collapsing on the floor next to Vernon's lax body, nothing more than a shadowy cloak.
"I told you he would make you sick," Harry said, shrugging, "but you did not listen."
"Oh, is he gone then?" Petunia asked finally as a silence descended over Number 4 Privet Drive.
"Mostly. I'd say that he's more of a vegetable right now. You should probably do something about that," Harry said, heading up the stairs and back to the bedroom that he had received only a few years ago.
"A vegetable? Does that mean we can eat him now, Mummy?"
"If you're into cannibalism, I guess. I'm not sure I know how to prepare that kind of meat, though, not to mention the amount of fat we'd need to get out."
"He's too heavy to move," Dudley decided, turning back to watch his newest television program.
"Just leave him there."
Only ten minutes later, two aurors arrived on the scene, and Petunia's only comment, when asked, was "He decided to have an illicit affair with a dementor, and refused to listen to reason."
To which the pink-haired auror promptly threw up, and the older wizard with a mad eye turned an interesting shade of green.
Written for Quidditch Pitch: Vernon Dursley
Written for Ultimate Battle Competition: Vegetable Wings – write crack
