Dudley Dursley loved Halloween.
It was his absolute favourite time of year.
He enjoyed it more than Christmas or Easter or even his own birthday.
Halloween was the perfect excuse to stuff himself silly with sweets- most of which he'd stolen from younger kids- and terrorize the neighbours by egging houses and smashing pumpkins.
This year Dudley wanted to dress up as his father for Halloween. There were no superhero or monster costumes for Dudley; he insisted on what he wanted to be for Halloween and, like always, what Dudley wanted, Dudley got. Indulgently, his mother and father bought their son a new tweed suit, a false mustache, and a hand drill- which their son tested by putting a series of holes in the kitchen walls and scratching the tabletop with- and, the night of Halloween placed a 'HELLO, MY NAME IS' sticker on his chest with the name V. Dursley scrawled in Dudley's untidy hand.
Harry Potter, who had been told unconditionally to stay in his cupboard while his cousin was allowed to go out to collect candy, cracked the door open and watched as his Aunt Petunia fussed over her son as they waited for Dudley's friends to arrive.
"Oh Vernon doesn't he look smart?" she simpered as she combed her son's thick, blond hair.
"We should get a picture," her husband told her.
Dudley, smirking, caught Harry's eye, and grinned all the while, gleeful with the knowledge that he would soon be home with piles of candy while his cousin got nothing.
Five minutes later, Dudley's gang of boys, including Piers, Malcolm, Dennis and Gordon arrived and Harry quickly shut the door to his cupboard.
He lay on his back, listening as his Aunt Petunia made a point of commenting on each boy's costume.
"Ol' Miss Figg is handing out boxes of raisins this year," Harry heard Piers tell Dudley.
"Won't go there," his cousin commented and then, muttered something in a low tone, probably telling his friends they should egg her house later.
"Have fun boys!" Petunia Dursley called.
"Give us some candy, Mum!" Dudley demanded, "My friends need something from our house!"
"Of course, darling," his mother acquiesced and Harry heard the plonk of the full-sized chocolate bars falling into the boys' buckets.
Moments later, Dudley and his friends were gone and the house grew quiet. Harry knew his aunt and uncle would be in the parlour, watching television until the Trick-Or-Treaters came.
HP
Two hours later, Dudley stepped through the door, hefting three bulging pillowcases full of sweets.
"Look how much candy you have! The neigbhours must have loved your costume!" Aunt Petunia's voice filtered through to Harry from the kitchen.
Slowly, Harry opened the door to his cupboard and followed the voices. He stood in the doorway and watched as Dudley dug through one of the bags to pull out a box of candy-coated chocolates, tear it open and dump the entire thing into his mouth.
"Don't eat too much tonight, Popkin," Aunt Petunia warned, "You'll give yourself a stomach ache."
Her son ignored her, pulling the cellophane off a log of toffee and cramming it into his mouth as well, chewing with glee.
Quietly, Harry padded back down the hallway and ducked into his cupboard. He listened for a while to the sound of his cousin rummaging around in the pillowcases for more sweets, but soon he fell asleep, his stomach growling with hunger.
HP
"No! Don't give it to him! It's mine! It's mine! He can't have it!" Harry startled awake to his cousin's voice yelling just outside his cupboard.
"You should have thought of that before you made yourself sick," Uncle Vernon's voice chided his son.
The door to Harry's cupboard was thrown open suddenly and his uncle dropped a pillowcase of sweets into his lap.
The small boy stared at his uncle, questioning, unbelieving. His cousin stood behind his father, fat crocodile tears running down his red face.
"You get to bed!" Uncle Vernon snapped at Dudley and slammed the cupboard door shut.
Harry didn't move; he sat still and listened to the sound of his uncle and cousin climbing the staircase.
Reaching up to turn on the naked bulb, which hung from the ceiling of the cupboard, Harry opened the pillowcase to see it overflowing with candies.
What happened? Harry wondered as he picked out a bite-sized chocolate bar and unwrapped it.
HP
On the morning after Halloween, Harry climbed from his cupboard, after shoving the pillowcase of candy his uncle had given him into a far corner of the crowded space, and walked to the kitchen to find his cousin moping over a bowl of oatmeal, his uncle perusing a phone book and his aunt standing rigid at the stove, an unhappy expression on her face.
As soon as Dudley saw Harry, he opened his mouth to speak, "I want-"
Uncle Vernon interrupted his son, "I told you last night, if you're going to do something like that, you don't get candy."
"It wasn't my fault," Dudley whined.
"You made yourself sick, you did," Vernon reminded his son, "How is that not your fault?"
Dudley, unable to argue, stared mutinously down at his bowl.
"Ah! Here we are, Petunia," Uncle Vernon stabbed one fat finger at an advertisement in the phone book, "They'll be able to fix the chesterfield."
Harry, seeing as no one was paying attention to him anyway, left the kitchen and walked into the parlour. As soon as he did, a sour scent hit him and he spied his aunt's immaculate couch splattered with dried vomit. On the floor beside the chesterfield lay a half-empty pillowcase of candy and discarded wrappers.
Harry put his hands over his mouth to quell the chuckle trying to bubble up his throat. Dudley had eaten so much candy the night before he made himself sick and puked all over his mother's sofa.
Smiling to himself, recalling his aunt telling Dudley what would happen if he ate too much, returned to the kitchen and accepted a small bowl of oatmeal from his aunt. While the rest of the family was allowed to add sugar, jam, and milk to their porridge, Harry was not, but for once, the idea of eating plain oatmeal didn't bother him. He, of course, had a pillowcase full of candy waiting for him in his cupboard.
Author's Note:
Just a little Halloween-themed fic to get us into the spirit of the season.
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