Quidditch League: Caerphilly Catapults – Beater 2
Phoenix: Write about someone turning over a new leaf or being "reborn" metaphorically
Prompts:
- (song) Everybody Hates Me by The Chainsmokers
- (word) morose
Dudley Dursley was a great many things.
He was a bully.
He was spoilt.
He was slower than most of the other children.
He was normal.
The last had always been the most important one. It had always been the one that his parents had held with the greatest pride, especially when his cousin was at home, and so it had also been his greatest pride.
It was the one characteristic that let him lord over the other children in the playground, which eventually gained him a loyal following that didn't question a word he said.
It also meant that there were about the same number of people who hated him enough to push him into oncoming traffic – if such a thing were possible with their limited strength. The other children were weak. They didn't dare stand up to him or fight for themselves because they knew that they would lose. They knew that Dudley was superior to them in every way.
They also knew that Harry was the lowest of the low. They knew that being seen with his younger cousin meant that they would be social outcasts and receive the same treatment from his gang. As expected, none of them dared go against his word. They never told on him or stopped him, and so Dudley believed everything he did to be right.
It was only fair.
Until Harry saved him from creatures he couldn't even see.
It was mind-numbingly cold, and the rest of his gang had long since deserted him in terror. He'd followed Harry's instruction to 'Run!' only because of Harry's expression – it had been an expression of wary horror that Dudley had never been able to produce before. It was a recognition of something invisible to Dudley's eye – that was the first time Dudley half-wished he wasn't so normal. He wished that he could actually see whatever it was that they were running from.
Dudley only knew the cold and fear that pushed him to keep running, and he knew that despite everything, Harry was slowing himself down to not leave him behind. Despite his terror, and all of Dudley's prior torment, Harry still didn't want harm to come to him.
Unlike what he had been doing all his life. Dudley had tormented Harry for nothing other than the situation Harry was in, one the other boy had no control over, and for a reason even Dudley didn't fully understand. It had always just been him copying what his parents did – just like he had expected of the rest of his gang.
It was pathetic, and it was sad, and as he sat in the living room of Privet Drive, staring blankly at the floor and clenching a bucket to his chest, he realised that if being normal meant being unnecessarily cruel then 'normal' wasn't a good thing.
'Normal' being used as a title of superiority meant being ignorant and stupid. It meant ignoring the obvious just to be cruel and judging people for things they couldn't control. It meant labelling people in a way that didn't really reflect the reality.
And Dudley wanted to thank Harry, somehow, but his father had immediately scolded and punished his cousin. His father didn't care about the fact that Harry was lingering near the entrance to the living room anxious and worried. His father didn't see Harry slipping into his bedroom later that night with a piece of chocolate and a whispered, "It will make you feel better."
So when an owl swooped in with a talking envelope informing Harry that he had been expelled from the school he went to, Dudley had been as furious as his father had sounded delighted. Harry's stunned expression had turned morose, and Dudley knew that his father would only want to make Harry feel worse so Dudley pretended to moan in pain to distract him. But he'd also been too tired and sick to stand up for his cousin, and he wondered if this was how the other children in the playground had felt when he hurt other people.
Harry disappeared within the next few days. Dudley hoped he managed to go back to his mysterious school, but whatever happened there left Harry looking more haunted and upset than Dudley had ever seen him before.
His parents didn't care, Dudley could see that more clearly at that moment than he ever had before. The pair of them treated Harry like they always did, despite him very obviously looking terrible. The dark circles under his eyes and his constant yawns revealed his exhaustion and the muffled cries that sometimes filtered through the walls were signs Dudley didn't understand. He didn't think whatever help he could have offered would be accepted either.
But it was on one of those nights when Dudley had shut off his computer and gotten himself ready to bed that Dudley was filled with a strange determination. He didn't want to be normal. He didn't want to do nothing when he knew he could help. He didn't want to be like all those other people who would stand and watch but never help.
He didn't want to be like his parents any longer.
Dudley quickly made his way to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. The staircase creaked awfully as he traversed it, but his parents didn't wake up.
With his hand hovering on Harry's doorknob, Dudley hesitated. His presence definitely wouldn't be welcome. It would probably make Harry uncomfortable seeing as they had never had much in the way of a positive relationship. The insistent feeling that Harry needed someone at that moment persisted, though, and he twisted the doorknob.
Harry bolted upright as soon as Dudley swung the door open.
"Harry! I, uh, brought you some water. I heard you crying. Before." Dudley kept his voice low but couldn't help the discomfort he felt from leaking through. This was what people did – it was the exact opposite of what his parents did for Harry, so Dudley took that as a good sign.
Finally, Harry muttered a quiet "Thanks" and Dudley shuffled closer to give Harry the glass. Dudley hesitated a moment longer at the door.
"I'm not good at this. I really haven't done it before, but... would you like to talk about whatever it is that's troubling you? I probably won't understand much, but I can listen? I'll try to at least." Dudley hung by the door feeling nervous and anxious. He couldn't understand the feeling, because this was Harry, but the anxiety had him explaining himself into the silent darkness. "I want to try being... not normal. I want to try and be a better person. So I want to try and help, if I can."
"You're really growing up, Dudley, but I think I just want to try to go back to sleep tonight. If you're still willing to listen tomorrow, when I know you're awake and not just offering from sleep deprivation, I'll consider it." Harry yawned, and Dudley realised he wasn't helping Harry's exhaustion any by keeping him awake.
"I'm not going to change my mind. I've been thinking about this for months, so be prepared to tell me whatever you're ready to talk about in the morning, okay? Goodnight, Harry."
Dudley wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he thought he heard a sleepy "Goodnight, Dudley."
