A/N: Written for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, year 1 Ancient Studies. Prompts used: snickers, soda, sponge, Rachel, Chris, Santa, basketballer, donation
Growing a Fat Head
Dudley was the talk of the school, but deaf to anything but his own crunching at the Snickers bar and his own gurgling of soda. He didn't hear the laughs of his classmates, who stared pointedly at the rolls of fat poking out from behind his chair and bent under the force of a punch or belt like a sponge. He doesn't see the pretty-girl Rachel going after Chris and ignoring all Dudley's own advances – because, as far as Dudley is concerned, he has it all.
And maybe he does. Santa would be hard pressed to find something to give him, with all his parents' did. He was the best wrestler in the school as well, fat making up for the lack of muscles and intelligence, and senseless cheers from the stands making up the beads of sweat that clung disgustingly to him. Of course, some soda and a healthy snack made up for it as well.
He didn't see those same fans gravitate off to the basketballers afterwards, or the footballers, or the cricketers. He didn't see those same fans snickering at him in class, when he couldn't answer properly, or had scored poorly. He didn't see the frowns when he kicked chairs, knocked over desks, and stole the money from the donations tin. As far as he knew, everyone was looking at him, and looking at him great.
Or maybe he did see it all, but it was a hole he couldn't dig himself out of. And he wasn't drowning in it: his parents were as happy as can be after all, so why try digging in the first place?