Dudley Dursley and the Birthday Wish

A Harry Potter fanfic for the Wizard Tales Aug 2005 Challenge by Desslok

Disclaimer: Like the ascetics of old, I own nothing but my own thoughts, dreams, and ideas, my sins and my good deeds. JK Rowling, on the other hand, is the richest woman in England and owns all the fabulous characters about whom you are about to read. As I humbly genuflect at the altar of her genius, I hope against hope that someday she will read my trivial tales, that they will bring her a modicum of the joy she has brought to me over the years, and that she will desist from pressing charges against me or this exquisite website.

---------------------------------------------------------------

He ran screaming through the night. The light from the lampposts faded and died before it could reach him and he stumbled in the darkness. 'Not again' he thought pitifully, feeling the alien force hover over him and smother his senses. His heart slowed, the world slipped away, and he was dragged back into the familiar, hated morass. The images flashed through his head, each burning itself into his very being.

He saw himself grossly expanded and distorted, fat, flabby, and menacing, towering over the world, eyes blazing in murderous rage. He felt the hatred and fear of every child he had ever bullied.

He saw himself in ridiculous outfits, picking his nose and drooling lightly. He felt the disdain, the mocking pity of his teachers, his coaches, the parents of his friends.

He saw himself handing out candy, money, gifts, dressed in a great clown suit, prancing about to entertain. He felt the greed and derision of those he thought his friends.

He saw nothing, nothing at all. He felt the absence of notice, the complete disregard in which so many people held him.

He saw a strange child, small and happy, completely alien. He felt the cold love that his parents had for this child who was nothing at all like himself.

He saw himself through the eyes of everyone he had ever known. Everyone, except one. And, as he always did, he screamed and screamed. The swirling force coalesced over his face and he could feel his life's breath being drawn slowly, achingly, out of his body. Suddenly, there was a burst of light.

Dudley awoke in a cold sweat, his hands shaking. He turned his bleary eyes to the clock by his bed. 5:15 am. Mum and Dad would still be asleep, but Dudley knew that he was awake for good. Moving quietly for such a large person, he pulled on some sweatpants and his running shoes. Tugging a hoody over his head, he crept down the stairs. As he opened the door, he heard his father's harsh voice call down drowsily, "Watch'a doing down there for?"

"Training," Dudley replied quickly. He did not wait for a reply.

The light of the false dawn diffused through a grey sky as he set out at a brisk pace down Privet Drive. Normally, Dudley didn't like to think. He liked to do things. Doing things was fun. It was easy. Doing things had helped him go from being the fat kid in class to being the big kid in class, the one everyone ran away from rather than the one everyone mocked. Doing things made him feel strong. Thinking made him feel small and funny inside.

The pounding of his shoes against the wet pavement sent up a light mist around his legs as he jogged on. There was something about running; it was different from when he lifted weights or fought, in or out of the ring. It was like he was doing something, but he could also think. Dudley found he enjoyed running. Deep down, he knew he had a problem. The nightmares kept getting worse and worse. With them came strange new feelings that he struggled to understand.

'I wonder if he remembers,' the young man thought as he ran past the place where it had all happened. 'I can't believe he would forget about that.' Even if he hadn't been reliving it every night this week, Dudley knew he would never lose the memories of that particular episode. 'Dementors, he called them,' Dudley recalled with a shudder.

Turning now past the park, Dudley ran along a winding, wooded lane, weaving in and out of the trees just for fun. One thing Dudley immensely disliked thinking about was his cousin. Before the incident, he hadn't found him worth thinking about, except when he was bored and looking for something to do for a lark. Ever since, though, he didn't like thinking about him for entirely different reasons. Guilt had been a new and most uncomfortable experience for Dudley Dursley.

Dudley sped up his pace to vary his heart rate, recalling the last time he had seen his cousin. Jealousy flared along with his pulse as he remembered the way that those redheads had been acting. They'd popped up all over the living room, nearly scaring mum to death. They had not looked at Pottter the way Dudley's friends looked at him. No one had ever looked at Dudley the way those Weaselby's had looked at Potter. The thought made Dudley very sad. Suddenly, he realized the sadness was not new, but rather something that had always been with him, but which he had never before recognized. Potter's friends loved him, but they also respected him. They cared about him and valued him. Dudley felt the moisture in the air pooling in his eyes as he thought back to the way the girl Weaselby had clung to his cousin, gazing up at him in rapt adoration. She was a bit scrawny, and Dudley had no use for redheads, but all in all, she wasn't bad. He preferred blondes.

'What's she see in him anyway,' Dudley thought, now doing a lap at his old high school. "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad." That had been a great prank, dropping a toad into the pickle jar for a day and then setting it on Potter's plate one dinner time long ago. At least, it had seemed so at the time. In retrospect, Dudley supposed it had been a bit cruel. His parents always gave Potter less than him to eat.

The sun slipped gently over the horizon, illuminating the thin fog that hung over the quiet streets of Little Whinging. Dudley turned around and headed for home. One thing had become clear. He needed to talk to his cousin. Never, in any nightmare, had he ever seen or felt what Harry thought of him. That must mean something. He had saved him that night after all, hadn't he? He suddenly realized he had no idea where his cousin might be. He dimly recalled that the Weaselby's had been very happy, talking about something finally being all over. They'd helped Harry gather up his stuff for the last time. Dudley had noticed that Harry had appeared a bit paler and more hunched over than usual, but he'd seemed pretty happy as well. 'I'd be happy, too,' Dudley realized, again remembering the way Harry had been surrounded by friends, with a girlfriend hanging on his arm.

----

"Godric's Hollow," Dudley announced to himself. He felt a surge of pride. It had only taken him an hour to track down his cousin on the Internet. All those years of surfing the web for porn had obviously paid off! He pulled up Mapquest and printed the directions. It was only a few hours away. He hadn't found the phone number or street address, but figured he could track Harry down in a small village like this one. He read through the article once more. Apparently Harry, some bird named Harmony, and a bunch of Weaselby's had saved some orphans from a burning house near a place called Little Hangington. The author didn't say how the orphans had got there, why Harry and his crew had been in Little Hangington, or how the fire had started. There'd been a couple casualties, though the only one they'd identified by name was a man named Riddle. At the end it mentioned that Mr. Potter resided in Godric's Hollow. Dudley chuckled suddenly, realizing that the paper has misspelled Weaselby.

"Going out with your little friends then, Duddikins?" Petunia asked as Dudley came down the stairs swinging his car keys. His parents had bought him a cherry-red Mini for his 18th birthday.

"Yeah, sure. Don't wait up, mum, I might be a bit late."

"Ok dear! Have fun!" Petunia smiled and patted him on the head as she had been doing since he was a baby.

"You know, I am 18 now, mum," Dudley complained.

"You'll always be my ittle-bitty Duddipoo!" she replied, turning to complete her dusting.

"That's part of the problem," Dudley muttered to himself as he stepped outside. Sometimes he really hated his name. He got into his car and hit the road. He hadn't quite worked out what he was going to say or do when he got there, but somehow things had started to feel right again, just a little. It was good to be doing something.

------

Harry Potter sat in the breakfast nook in his kitchen, ruefully shaking his head. From the dining room, he could hear the music and lively chatter of a party in full swing. His fiancé reached across the table and ran her hand through his eternally mussy black hair.

"We should have known better than to try to throw a surprise party for Luna," he said with a warm smile.

Ginny Weasley (soon to be Ginny Potter) laughed playfully and nodded in agreement. "I suppose you're right, luv, but… well, at least someone was surprised."

Harry and Ginny had thought they had been quite careful. They had planned the event almost as carefully as they had the final battle with Voldemort. Working closely with Ron, Hermione, Neville and Hannah, they had contacted Luna's friends and family, arranged for the food and decorations, even enlisted Mr. Lovegood to bring Luna at the prescribed time, ostensibly for a small dinner to discuss the possibility of granting the Quibbler exclusive rights to cover the wedding.

Everyone had gathered in the dark of Ginny and Harry's den, watching the fireplace expectantly. When the fire had flared, they'd all shouted "Surprise!" only to find a bewildered Mr. Lovegood all by himself. "I couldn't find her anywhere," he explained, dusting himself off.

While the assembled guests began to discuss what to do, Harry glanced over into a dark corner of the room. His jaw dropped as he realized that Luna was standing right there, munching happily on some potato chips next to the snack table. Noticing his gaze, she smiled brightly.

"Surprise!" she said cheerfully.

"How… when… what…." Harry babbled at her.

"Oh, I slipped in the side door a while back. You all were having so much fun waiting it seemed a shame to spoil things. Great party, Harry and Ginny!" Luna smiled happily at both of them.

"Luna, how did you know about the party?" Ginny finally had recovered her wits enough to speak.

"I know lots of things," she replied, shaking her long blonde hair out a bit. It actually looked as though she had spent some time working on it, as it lacked its usual scraggly appearance. "Today's my birthday after all. I expect that now that I'm 18, it'll get a bit easier to know things in the right order. Seeing the past is fun, but the future is a bit more exciting."

"Do you see visions, Luna? Divinations?" Hermione had yanked Ron over to the center of the commotion. Her skeptical expression indicated her lack of faith in such powers.

"Everyone sees things, Hermione," Luna explained in a patient tone, not unlike the one Hermione typically used when speaking to her husband. "Well, except blind people, I suppose. And the Blickering Snorkblatts, of course. But I suppose they wouldn't really need to see, living underground on the dark side of the moon and all. Underground. I wonder if there should be a different term. Undermoon, maybe."

"You going to drink that, mate?" Ron whispered to Harry, gesturing to the glass of wine in his best friend's hand. "I think I could use it. She always makes my head spin."

All around them, their friends returned to the business of having fun. Fred, or George…some Weasley started the music up again and raised the lights back up to a nice low dimness. Ginny and Harry's home had an assortment of both Muggle and magic devices. Harry thought that this was the main reason Mr. Weasley came by so often, but Ginny knew better. Her parents would not have let her move in with just any boy before being wed, but they'd allowed it with Harry. Still, he was her father after all and often "popped in" to visit.

Neville Longbottom approached the corner where Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione stood chatting with Luna, a bit of a skittish look on his face. "Hey Luna," he said cautiously.

"Hello, Nevvy," the birthday girl replied with a warm grin. "Did Hannah come with you? Oh yes, there she is, standing over there pretending not to watch." Luna waved in a friendly manner towards Hannah across the room. "Congratulations on little Alice!"

All the color drained out of Neville's face. "Alice?"

"Oh that's right." Luna looked down at her wristwatch. It seemed to be upside down and Harry could have sworn he saw letters as well as numbers around the edges. "Well, pretend to be surprised then."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, staring seriously at Luna. "Luna, what other visions have you had of the future?"

Luna shook her head and sighed patiently once again. She spoke very slowly. "Hermione, I've tried to explain to you, there is no past and no future. It's all just one big thing. Visions are visions. Yesterday, I had a vision of myself wearing a large, silly lion hat that roared."

"You did wear that hat!" Ron shouted. "You wore it to our Quidditch game fifth year."

"See, my vision came true," Luna replied, as if that settled everything.

"That was a memory, not a vision!" Hermione's voice raised to a volume just shy of a scream. Ron patted her on the shoulder and pulled her gently to his side. She sobbed in frustration and let Ron lead her away. As he rescued his wife, Ron looked over his shoulder with a broad smile. "Happy birthday, Luna!"

"And to you, Ronald!" Luna called after them.

Harry's sides ached with the effort of holding his laughter. He looked over and could see from the tell-tale crinkles at the edges of Ginny's eyes that she was as close to losing it as he was. Ginny gave Luna a quick hug and the two of them left their guest of honor to mingle with the rest of her friends. And so, they made their way into the kitchen where they sat for a bit, still happy to revel in the sheer pleasure of each other's company.

After a wonderful interlude staring into Ginny's deep brown eyes, Harry sighed and stood up. "I guess it's time for the cake." Ginny nodded and moved to help him. She had never baked a cake before and felt a bit anxious about it. Ginny was keenly aware that her mother had been the first person ever to feed her future husband proper home-cooked meals and felt quite pressured to live up to that high standard.

Harry gestured with his wand and a low table rolled into the kitchen from the pantry. On it, there lay a simple, though large, sheet cake. Ginny had decided to start out with something relatively basic. It was a pumpkin cake with white frosting, Luna's favorite Neville had assured them. On the white background, Ginny had created a passable image of Luna with colored frosting, along with the words "Happy Birthday." As Harry and Ginny looked down at it to make sure it was ok, they felt a third presence beside them.

"You'll get much better," Luna said calmly, dipping a finger into the frosting and bringing it to her lips. "I'm really looking forward to the two-tiered devil's food cake you did for the twins' fifth birthday." Ginny's eyes widened and Harry blushed fiercely, though he couldn't help the sudden warm smile that spread across his face. Ginny looked up at him in wonder and a bit of terror, mouthing the word 'twins' while resting her hands on her lean, flat stomach. Harry kissed her gently and then turned to Luna.

"I think we'd be happier not knowing about any visions, Luna," he said politely. "We like to be surprised." Luna shrugged simply in mute acquiescence.

"What about you, Luna?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject. "Any idea what's in store for you?"

She shrugged again. "I don't pay too much attention. I mean, other people's lives are just so much more interesting. I'm just a normal, boring person." She either didn't hear or chose to ignore Ginny's stifled giggles.

"You look very nice today," Harry went on, kicking Ginny's foot lightly. "Did you decide to get done up for the party?" Harry began to roll the cake out into the other room. Somehow, he knew that there was no point in trying to get Luna to sit still while everyone sang "Happy Birthday" to her.

"Nope," Luna answered simply. "Today's a big night, though, isn't it." She looked down at her watch. "He should be here soon. I wonder what he's like." The guests gathered around them as Ginny flicked her wand toward the cake, covering it with 18 lit candles. Luna suddenly became aware that everyone was waiting on her to do something.

"Blow out the candles and make a wish, dear," her father said, standing near her side.

"Happy birthday," Luna announced, leaning forward to blow out the candles. After she did so, getting every single one, she added, "I just wish he'd get here so we could get on with it then."

--------

As Dudley expected, Godric's Hollow was a small village. Other than the post office and pub, there wasn't much in the center of things. After half an hour of driving about, he felt he'd found the right house. Through open windows, he could see a large number of people milling about, as if at a party, but there were no cars to be found outside. Instead, he noted a number of brooms leaning near the front door. He had hoped to find Harry alone, though he still had no idea of what he was to say to him. Dudley didn't feel much in the mood for a party, especially one he hadn't been invited to join, but he'd driven too far to turn back now.

The door was partially open to let the cool evening air inside, so Dudley knocked once and opened it slowly, unsure what to expect. At first glance, everything looked surprisingly normal. Everyone was dressed in normal clothes; normal music was playing on a normal stereo. He noted a normal looking cake with candles still smoking and figured it must be someone's birthday.

All eyes turned to Dudley as he stood in the doorway. Most of the young people in the house did not recognize him and began to worry that they had made too much noise and attracted Muggle law enforcement. Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys, however, stood there mouths agape. They would have expected the late, unlamented Voldemort himself to crash the party before they'd have expected Dudley Dursley.

Only one person seemed completely unsurprised to see him. Dudley's heart gave a quick lurch as a young woman with long, blond hair and huge, luminous silver-grey eyes walked up to him confidently, as if she'd been expecting him. The rest of the room faded away as he lost himself in her radiant smile. When she leaned up and kissed him soundly on the cheek, he felt as if he'd collapse if not for the doorway holding him up.

"It's about time you got here," Luna said dreamily. "You're just in time for cake." She stepped away and then paused, remembering something. "Oh, my name is Luna Lovegood." She curtseyed smartly and waited expectantly. Whatever she expected, Dudley found himself incapable of determining or providing it.

"And you are?" Luna asked.

Dudley lifted a finger to his cheek, feeling the moist warmth her lips had left behind. "I'm Dudley. Dudley Dursley."

"No, that won't do at all. Not a good name at all. Besides, Harry doesn't like that name and we'll need him to babysit. Oh well, I expect I'll come up with something better soon enough." She reached out and patted his head fondly before moving back to the cake. Taking the knife out of Harry's paralyzed hands, she efficiently began cutting pieces.

--------

A/N: I must say I don't believe I've found another character more fun to write than Luna was here. I realize this is a pretty big stretch from canon, but I like to think it's not TOTALLY implausible. People do grow up, after all, even poor Dudley. This also begs for the "Meet the Parents" sequel where Luna meets Vernon and Petunia. That would be too much fun.

In any case, I hope you enjoy my second foray into the realm of HP fanfic. Please review if you have time. Reviews: gotta catch 'em all!