AN: This is my first fanfic ever (Wish me luck!) It will mostly follow canon plot to begin with, as Dudley joins Harry at Hogwarts, however he will soon have his own adventures against the backdrop of Harry Potter's world. I apologise that the first chapter is slightly bitty, but it is necessary to move the story on.
M rating is just for language and to be safe.
Tell me if I make any awful typos or grammar mistakes - I will be just as frustrated as you are!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns anything that you recognise, including characters, situations and dialogue
CHAPTER 1
Weird Occurrences
Petunia Dursley shuddered as the picture behind her shattered, shards of glass peppering the living room that was almost as immaculately preened as her golden son. She knew that she would have to soon clear it up; it wouldn't do for a nosy neighbours or a caller to think the Dursleys had anything less than an immaculate life.
She looked back at the two boys sitting at her dinner table. One, her precious son, was screaming at the top of his lungs, smashing his podgy little fist into the bowl of puree that she had spent the last half-hour preparing. The other, sat, silently staring at his older cousin, vaguely amused. Petunia, knew of course, that the picture had been broken by her abnormal nephew - her own son would never show that sort of tendency.
She walked towards her little ray of sunshine and took him into her arms. Dodging kick after stubborn kick, she squeezed him, telling him how lovely he was in an attempt to stop his crying. Not that she blamed him, of course, he was only three years old and it must be difficult for him to have to put up with his freakish cousin.
As she lovingly placed a kiss onto her son's sparse hairs, she screamed at Harry to go to his room without supper. He looked at her, at first with confusion, and then with acceptance that any attempt at an argument would be futile.
Petunia Dursley knew all about the magical world, she knew it was something to be avoided at all costs. Her feather-brained little sister had made the mistake of befriending a horrible boy who lured her into that horrible world. As the knowledgeable older sister, Tuney, of course, could see what was happening, and she didn't like it one bit. While Petunia went to the local secondary school, Lily insisted on betraying her family and life, moving away to that horrible school. And from that point on, Petunia Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister. She made her mind up that she would avoid anything abnormal. Anything that wasn't normal had to be vehemently ignored.
And then Harry turned up on her doorstep.
The pale, skinny child was nothing compared to her beautiful Dudley, and yet, secretly his presence was a relief. Now she had somebody to blame, whenever something weird happened.
v^v^v^v^v
Throughout the nine and a half years that Harry spent with the Dursleys, he couldn't help but feel overlooked. That was a slight understatement. The Dursleys poured all their attention – and money – into their little Duddykins, while Harry was rarely not serving a punishment for some benign mistake. Often this 'mistake' was getting in the way of one of Dudley's unprovoked punches, or something of that nature. Dudley would receive a cuddle from his mother, and an affectionate 'boys will be boys' from his father. His cousin was not treated so generously.
And yet, Harry had seen another side to Dudley.
Sometimes, as he slipped into the kitchen in the hope of making up for his missed dinner, he stopped short at the sight of Dudley, softly weeping as he took chocolate after chocolate from a large box of sweets. Harry was initially confused, Dudley often wolfed down Harry's dinner as well as his own; he certainly did not need the extra sustenance. Through time, this became even more frequent an event, Harry heard phrases through his moans, 'I don't want to be like them', 'Mummy and Daddy would never forgive me', 'I wish I was normal'.
This alarmed the then 10-year-old Harry, but he was unsure what to do, it was not like he could confide in his uncle and aunt.
But, even weirder than his cousin's behaviour, was his own. Sometimes, when Harry was particularly sad, or angry, or even happy, something would happen; a broken vase, or a slammed door. Of course, Harry would be shouted at, and sent to his cupboard (as if that made a change from day to day life!). But sometimes, Harry couldn't help but wonder whether it was actually his fault. Often, when something slightly bigger happened, he didn't even notice until he was being reprimanded. In fact, sometimes he wasn't even in the same room. As Harry would sit in his cupboard prison, considering and replaying the events, he often found that the action was not even accompanied by a strong feeling on his part.
These were often the same nights he found Dudley.
v^v^v^v^v
But at least, thought Harry, they wouldn't be going to the same secondary school. It was torture; Harry had no friends. It wasn't like he didn't try, but everybody knew that getting close to Harry would mean attention from Dudley's gang. Attention from Dudley's gang was to normal children, what magic was to the Dursleys: something to be avoided at all costs. At least at Stonewall High, he would be free from those stupid boys.
Dudley surrounded himself with his big and stupid classmates; the fact that he was the biggest and stupidest placed him in charge. This made his parents exceedingly proud, his father declaring, 'I always knew my Dudley was a born leader, just like me.' And so, Dudley's gang continued to terrorise the neighbourhood, with Dudley at their helm.
Shivers crawled up his back as he replayed a Monday in the last month of joint schooling. Like usual, Dudley barged up to him as soon as they were released for lunch, demanding Potter's sandwich and juice. Usually, he would have reluctantly complied, but today he was feeling strangely rebellious.
'No.'
'What?'
'I'm hungry, I want to eat my lunch', Harry offered.
'You're so stupid!'
'You're so ugly!'
Dudley was shocked. He wasn't used to insults. 'How dare you? You're so ugly. Just like your stupid paren-'
'DON'T YOU BRING MY PARENTS INTO THIS', screamed an irate Harry. A moment later he noticed something. Dudley's nose was looking rather large. He did a double take. It was looking even larger. And considerably pinker for that matter...
Nervous giggles were bubbling around the gathered crowd.
And then Dudley noticed. The high pitched squeal that jumped out of his mouth would have made a 5-year-old girl proud.
Harry just had time to notice the infuriated look on Dudley's face before the football whizzing across the playground knocked him to the ground.
His dazed thoughts upon waking went something like:
'Huh. I'm sure those faces weren't in the sky before.
Oh right, I'm lying on the ground.
What happened?
Uhhhh, I guess something hit me.
What?
Wait, how did that football travel so far?
What were the chances that it would hit me directly?
Weird.
Almost like somebody used magic.'
Mr Grulpinton, the supervising teacher wiped his glasses and sighed. He would have to start seeing that shrink again.
v^v^v^v^v
And then there were the letters.
Harry walked out of the kitchen towards the hall, having been bullied by his Uncle and cousin into getting the post, even though he himself had never even got a letter. He bent down, and along with a postcard and what looked like some mundane bill, he glimpsed a letter for Dudley.
The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald green ink. A familiar pang of jealousy was quickly suppressed. No doubt, it was a birthday present from some great-aunt who had spared no expense to make up for the fact it was late. Dudley would probably rip it open, complaining he only got £100. Harry however, sighed and scooped up the letters. That's when he noticed another identical letter. This one was addressed to him?
After giving out the post, Harry settled back into his seat and began to carefully peel open the mysterious envelope. Dudley suddenly stopped, paralysed mid rip, and exclaimed, 'Harry's got a letter just like mine!'
A terrified look flashed over Uncle Vernon's face, and without a moment's hesitation, he snatched both letters from the boys' hands. Aunt Petunia suddenly understood. She snapped for both Harry and Dudley to leave. Dudley didn't quite know how to react, he had never been in this situation before; all he could do was walk in a daze towards the door, shocked that his parents had the audacity to ask him to leave.
When, however the door shut with an unkind BANG behind him, sense swiftly returned to him. Dudley shouted and kicked the door, screaming that he wanted HIS LETTER. Harry, however had some sense. He hushed Dudley and gestured towards the keyhole.
As the two boys listened intently, they caught a few concerned whispers.
'My darling baby boy!'
'How do they know where we live?'
'What will we do?'
'Dangerous Nonsense'
'This is what happened to Lily!'
'We have no choice but to ignore them.'
v^v^v^v^v
Later that afternoon, Uncle Vernon sat Harry and his cousin down on the concrete sofa in the still-immaculately-preened living room. Apprehensive glances between everybody present were soon interrupted by Dudley's father's booming voice:
'So', a tension-filled pause gave the boys time to speculate about his next words, 'about these letters.'
Dudley immediately started pounding the fake-mahogany coffee table with his still-podgy, but significantly larger fist; chanting, 'I WANT MY LETTER, I WANT MY LETTER!'. Harry knew better than to do the same, and instead watched his cousin with an amused expression spread across his face.
'Look at our baby boy, he's so determined to get what he wants.' Petunia told her husband affectionately.
Vernon nodded and replied with: 'Don't worry, Duddykins, it wasn't meant for you. Those letters were addressed to the wrong people by mistake. I burnt them.'
Harry felt a pang of sorrow, wishing he had had a chance to read the letter, but 'Duddykins'? 'Duddykins' threw an all-out tantrum.
v^v^v^v^v
The next morning, before the dawn broke, Harry emerged from his cupboard with the intent of sneaking out and intercepting the postman before he reached the house. But he was stopped in his tracks by a yawning Dudley, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled down the stairs in front of him. He clearly had the same idea.
'That was certainly unexpected', thought Harry, so instead he decided to stand back in the shadows and watch the unfolding of events.
As Dudley stumbled towards the door, there was suddenly a yelp of surprise. A disgruntled Vernon sat up and glared at his son. He clutched six letters in his hand, which he then proceeded to tear into a thousand pieces.
That day, Vernon Dursley abandoned going to work at the drill factory, and instead spent the better part of 3 hours nailing up the mail box. 'If they can't deliver the letters, they'll just have to give up.'
But, at exactly 3:42 that afternoon, occurred the strangest event in Harry's life so far. Dudley Dursley, armed with two cups of hot chocolate and a packet of biscuits, knocked on the door of Harry Potter's cupboard, wanting no more than a friendly chat.
AN: What did you think? Please review and tell me if I should continue, any constructive criticism is welcome!