He wached silently as his parents forced a boy, younger then him, to cook, clean, and tend to the everything. Work him nearly to death then give him nothing in return. Sometimes he debated wether to give him food, or toys, or to just be his friend. But urgings from his parents warned him not to.
He watched from between his large stack of gifts as the boy younger then him got nothing but a yell and a slap, and order and a threat. Watched the small child's face fall when he glasses broke-again. Felt sickened as he punched him in the stomach, the arm, the face. But his father smiled viciously and patted him on the back, giving him more. Even as the small boy lay on the ground whimpering. Sometimes a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, telling him not to, but he just wanted to make his father proud.
Envy filled him when he discovered magic was real, and the messy-haired boy had it, not him. Watched him be taken away by the tall man, joy so evident on his face. Greif flooded him when he reliezed it was his fault that he hated it so much. Listening carefully when his Dad complained about everything, secretly thinking that he was wrong.
He watched as the boy, younger then him, moped about grimly when his birthday came and passed with no cards or presents. No greetings or conversations. Unsure what to do, so he teases him instead. But it's a mean type of teasing. Deep down he knows that he isn't doing magic, but just to spite him he tells his mum. He really shouldn't have. But he did anyway.
Watches when he comes back, darked then before. Sadder. Angrier. Moodier. Still a tiny stick, but possesing more power then before. Tries not to laugh when his aunt is blown up and floats on the ceiling. She deserved it anyway. No one's parents should be spoken of that way. Wanting to congradulate him on his amazing feat, but he was gone before he could. Vanished into the night.
Watched warily when he returns. He seems almost happy now. Getting letters all the time from his god-father. Apparently he's some escaped criminal. Seems like a strange thing to be happy about. Then his friends come. Blow up the living room. They cursed him with candies. He understood why. Kinda figured it was because he had told them how horrible he was.
Something bad happens. He watches and listens as cries echo into the night. Then theres the mist. The darkness and mist. He can't see them. All he sees is a startling light. It was his fault it happened. All because he punched him. Despair fills him. Watches as everything bad he's done flash past his eyes. But then the light come back, sending the despair rushing away. Not knowing what to do, he does what is expected of him, he blames the other.
He watches, starting to relieze something is wrong with what he's doing. When the tall man comes to talk, he understands what has happened. He's been abusing the boy. The boy younger then him. The boy that in the back of his mind always thought of as a little kid. Now it was too late to make amends. But he could try. Maybe.
He watches from the door, peering into the empty house. A tall, gangly figure stands in the middle, looking slightly uncomfortable. Steeling himself, he walks up to him and shakes his hand. He's done watching. He wishes he hadn't always just watched. He wished he had actually helped. It was too late for regrets though. So he watches through his window as he drives away. Away from his old life. Away from the mistakes. Watches as the boy he thought he knew faded away.
I was thinking about this last night, I don't think Dudley was all that bad it was just his parents influence on him. If he had been given a chance to actually be nice to harry, I think he could have. I hope you like it! R and R plz!
Ladylupin98