Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Warning: I am bored.
The drive home from Kings Cross station passed almost in silence. The only time anyone spoke was when Vernon Dursley yelled at a speeding motorist. In the back seat Vernon's twelve year old son, Dudley, glanced at his cousin, Harry Potter. Under normal circumstances Dudley would have thrown a punch at Harry, but these were not normal circumstances. Harry had just returned from his first year at some weird school for wizards.
As soon as they arrived home Vernon locked Harry's trunk in the cupboard under the stairs.
"All my stuff's in there" Harry protested.
"And it's staying there until you go back to that – that school" said Vernon "I'm not having any you know what under my roof"
"But I've got homework. Can't I at least get my books out?" said Harry. "I'll get in trouble if I don't do it"
"Homework" snorted Vernon "in the summer holidays. A likely story, boy" He turned to his son "Dud, fetch me a padlock from the shed would you"
When Dudley returned with the padlock, Vernon padlocked Harry's owl inside her cage.
"You're not sending messages to any of your lot" he spat.
Vernon arrived home from work one evening and announced that he was hoping to get a large order of drills from a client.
"I've invited them for a dinner party. Eight o'clock two weeks from tomorrow" he said. "I've worked out a schedule. At eight o'clock, Petunia, you should be just finishing dinner. No that makes us look disorganised. You can er be waiting for them in the lounge. Dudley, you can be waiting to open the door"
"But Piers has asked me to the cinema that night" wailed Dudley. If he protested enough his parents would let him go.
"You can go another night" said Vernon gruffly. "It creates a much better impression if you're here. Now what was I saying? Oh yes, you'll be opening the door. Let's practice to see if you've got the hang of it"
"I know how to open a stupid door" thought Dudley as his parents stepped onto the threshold. A second later the doorbell rang and he pulled the front door open.
"No not like that!" said Vernon. "You'll scare them if you're standing right at the door. Go down to the end of the hall. And the way you're pulling the door handle looks like you're trying to yank it off the hinges. Do try and be a bit more gentle"
The second time Dudley opened the front door slowly and carefully.
"Anyone would think the front door was about to fall apart the way you're handling it" said Vernon. "Try again"
After two more attempts Vernon was happy with Dudley's door opening technique.
"Now what are you going to say?" he asked.
"What do you mean, what am I going to say?" said Dudley curiously.
"The Masons have arrived. You've opened the door. You're mother and I are in the lounge. Now what are you going to say?" said Vernon impatiently.
"Oh" said Dudley quietly. He thought for a moment. "Dad, the Masons are here!"
"I'll hear the doorbell. I'll know they're here" said Vernon through gritted teeth. "Besides that won't create a good impression. Open the door and say something to the Masons"
Vernon and Petunia stepped onto the threshold again. When the doorbell rang Dudley walked down the hall and answered it.
"Hello?" he said.
"That's no good" said Vernon angrily.
"How about 'good evening'?" suggested Petunia.
"Better" said Vernon walking into the lounge. "We can work on that"
"What do I do?"
Dudley, Vernon and Petunia jumped. None of them had noticed Harry sitting in the lounge.
"What do you mean?" asked Vernon suspiciously.
"At the dinner party" said Harry "What am I supposed to do?"
"You're staying in your bedroom and I don't want to hear a sound out of you, boy. You don't exist for the evening" growled Vernon "Now clear off!"
Harry went upstairs to his bedroom. Dudley sat down in an armchair and leafed through the television guide. As he did this he thought that when it came to this dinner party, Harry was getting a better deal than he was.
Two weeks later, Dudley was sick of his father's dinner party and it was still one day away although he did enjoy watching his father bullying Harry.
"Now remember, boy. If you make one sound you're going to regret it" growled Vernon.
"I know" said Harry miserably.
All we need is one question about how the boy got that hideous scar or what happened to his parents or where he goes to school and there goes the deal" said Vernon gruffly as Harry went upstairs.
Dudley put down the television guide he had been leafing through suddenly feeling curious about Harry's school. He waited until his parents were watching the evening news and slipped the key to the cupboard under the stairs off his father's key ring.
Several hours later Dudley pushed open his bedroom door and looked along the landing. There were now strips of light under any of the doors. His parents and cousin must be asleep. Dudley crept downstairs. He unlocked the cupboard door and stepped inside. He carefully lifted the lid of Harry's trunk. There was a shiny broomstick with the words "Nimbus Two Thousand" written in gold near the top lying on top of a black robe. Dudley thought the robe looked much better than his school uniform of orange knickerbockers and maroon tailcoat. Dudley found two more robes like the first one and another one in red. "Must be for sports" he thought. There were also some old clothes of his that had been passed on to Harry. One item of clothing, however, had not been his. Moving a pile of jeans aside Dudley found a thick, hand-knitted, emerald green jumper. Dudley wondered where Harry had got it. Under the jumper was a pile of cards. They all seemed to be get well cards. By the looks of things Harry was very popular at his school. Dudley replaced the cards and kept looking through the trunk. He had come across Harry's books. Dudley hated to read. If he got a book for Christmas or his birthday it went straight into what was his second bedroom, which was where he kept all his broken toys and things he didn't want anymore. Now it was Harry's bedroom. Dudley went to move Harry's schoolbooks aside when he noticed the title of one of them;
Magical Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger.
Curiously Dudley looked through a few of the books. It seemed that Harry had been making potions to cure boils, potions to make people forget and learning spells to make things change colour, spells to make things fly, spells to turn one object into another while he, Dudley, was learning boring things like maths and geography.
Dudley thought that would be useful. If the Smelting's cook served something he didn't like, he could turn it into something else. He was curious now. What would happen if he held Harry's wand and said some magic words? He moved more things aside searching for the wand which was difficult as he didn't know what it looked like. Two more things made him forget about it.
The first was a photo album full of photos of two people who had to be Harry's parents. All the pictures were moving. The man looked almost like a grown up version of Harry. The only difference was his eyes were a different colour and he didn't have a scar shaped like a bolt of lightning on his forehead. The woman had green eyes like Harry's. Dudley knew that this was his mother's sister. "Harry's mum doesn't look like my mum" he thought turning the pages. He stopped at a photo that had been taken on the Potter's wedding day. Harry's parents were standing arm in arm both smiling. Next to them was a handsome man laughing about something. He had to be the best man. "I wonder why Harry didn't go and live with him" thoughtDudley replacing the photo album and turning his attention to the other thing he had found.
It was a box of sweets. Dudley opened a bag labeled Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. He bit into a white bean that tasted like mashed potato. He also got strawberry, carrot, milk, chocolate, cornflake, bacon, and apple. Dudley bit into one last bean, a green one.
"Eurgh!" he said loudly spitting it out. It was the worst thing he had ever tasted. He looked around for something to get the taste out of his mouth at the same time hoping his parents and cousin were still asleep. There was some chocolate at the bottom of the box. Dudley wolfed several pieces down as he locked the cupboard under the stairs and crept back to his bedroom. As Dudley closed his door he heard he distinctly heard the words "bloody racket" from his parents' bedroom.