Because even he deserves a second chance. Idea came for this when reading To Whom it may Concern which is by far the most touching oneshot ever. Also after writing this, I do recall reading a story about Dudley and a girl (but it was mostly about Harry), but I don't remember what it's called.
I did not have a happy childhood.
Sure I was spoilt rotten, and had parents who fawned over me. But it's really not all it's cracked up to be.
My earliest memory is throwing cereal at the only other boy my age currently residing in the house. Harry. I suppose I did it for the attention. Maybe not. I guess I really will never know, the secrets of my toddler mind lost to me.
I remember going to a fancy house, a party. I was already a little big, always eating. I take after my dad, you know. Well I was maybe four, and I took six cakes to eat later. I didn't want to stick around for the boring adult conversation. Harry took six too. He doesn't really eat much at home. Partly my fault. But mostly my parents.
The lady who owned the house wasn't very nice at all. She called me something, I can't recall, but it obviously wasn't very nice. Then she took my cakes away, and muttered something about piglets. Harry was right next to me. She just smiled at him, let him keep all his cakes, and cooed over how small he was. Now this is no excuse for what happened next, but remember, I was spoilt.
When she left, I stole Harry's cakes. You've got to see, this was the first time ever someone had shown preference to Harry. And I was a hungry, growing boy. He obviously was not. And he didn't complain. Not that I would have done anything if he had.
I think in the end, he resented me as much as I resented him. Still, I wasn't exactly mean to him, I never hit him. Not until primary school. My first day there, I was taunted and teased by two thin boys. Harry could have joined in. But he didn't, and I should have acted accordingly, I should have treated him better. They called me things like fatty, and snorted at me. I finally got the piglet reference, and I was ashamed. Ashamed of myself, ashamed of my parents. I was also angry. I did the only thing I could think of, I lashed out.
They both had bloody noses. Nothing serious, but it still scared them enough that they treated me with awe. I am ashamed to admit, I lapped it up. I got it at home, and I had no reason not to expect it at school. Soon, all the children feared me. I didn't like it, but at least they weren't taunting me. It was the other way around.
It wasn't my idea to target Harry, not initially. One of the other boys called him a name. Instead of sticking up for him, like family should, I treated him with the same contempt as my parents. Like father like son. Oh how I wish I had acted differently. He had cried then. He didn't cry later. I think he had realized that nobody cared. At all. In the world. That made me a little sad for the lonely boy who lived in our hall closet. But I had to save face.
All though primary school I grew into a fat, selfish lug. I beat people up, I teased them mercilessly. I got anything in the world I ever asked for. Everything but one. Well, two. But only one that mattered.
The first thing was magic. Harry had it, so naturally, I wanted to take it from him. When I learned I couldn't, and that he'd be leaving, I felt a little happier. I want to tell you that it's because I knew he'd be better off somewhere else, but it was really because I got my bedroom back. I threw a fit when I found out it wasn't permanent, he came back for summer hollys.
He tormented me then, like I had tormented him. He was getting back at me for every time I hit him, every time he threatened magic at me. Deep down, I knew he was a better person than me, that he'd never do it, but my little brain had to come up with more reasons to be mean, snide, and eat his food.
So, Harry left for school five times. Each time I wasn't sorry to see him go. When I started school for the fifth time, I was placed in an exchange program. You see, some nut thought that Smeltings was teaching bad values, with the stick whacking and whatnot. I disagreed, but they placed me, and several other students in a public school. A public school! I hated it at first, but soon the children knew to fear me, and the teachers loved me. All was as it should be. And then along came Holly.
Holly was something else. She was beautiful, funny, honest. I admit, I fell for her. Maybe just superficially at first, but eventually emotionally as well. I'll be the first to say, I never really loved anybody. I never really loved my parents, they were just tools. The means to the end. And I certainly never loved Harry. To me, he represented everything I wasn't. And I hated that, in turn hating him.
All this, I didn't even realize. Not until I had a very long talk with Holly. Holly didn't like me, at all. She thought I was a bully. I was. But I was willing to change for her, or so I thought. I told her I'd need her help. She agreed, reluctantly.
I wasn't sure how to go about un-becoming what I'd become. I was sure I was set in stone, destined to be my father. She told me to apologize to everyone I'd wronged. That seemed near impossible, there was just too many people.
Even she was surprised by the extent of my crimes. But I did it, I apologized to every single person. Except one. And I bet you can guess who that was. Harry. Problem was, he was at school. But that was easily solved. Holly didn't know a thing about him. I could pretend he never existed. Worked for my parents all the time. So I did. And I changed, sort of.
I still hit people, but only in the boxing ring. I wasn't nice to everyone, but I didn't go around handing out insults like sweets. And instead of sweets, I ate these odd vegetable called carrots. I think Holly was starting to like me as a person, as a friend, right about the time the summer holiday came around. I had grown up enough to know she wouldn't ever like me the same way I liked her, but still I dreamed.
Then Harry came home, and everything changed. See, she had been coming over on Saturdays, under the pretense of tutoring me. She was, just... not in the subjects of school. She was teaching me how to be a better person. I don't know why she picked such an obviously lost cause, but that was part of her charm, the ability to believe in anybody. Well, she saw Harry one day, leaving the house, and going off. He was doing that more often, not sticking around. Something to do with how he was depressed. I didn't really know why, didn't bother asking. Another regret.
She demanded to know who he was. I knew I couldn't lie, not to her. So I told her, everything. Well not everything, not the magic. Not the 'M' word. But everything else, the abuse, neglect, everything. She was enraged, horrified. I don't think I've ever seen her so angry. She told me what she thought of me, in plain words. She knew I hadn't apologized. Knew I was jealous.
I never got the chance to talk to her again. The best thing of my life, walked out, because of Harry. I was tempted to go beat him up, but was afraid of the dementors thingies, and ashamed that he had helped me in my time of need, and I didn't have the decency to be nice to him. So I did the next best thing. I ignored him. No taunting, no hitting. No snideness. Nothing. I suppose that is another regret.
I later found out Holly had been digging for dirt on Harry, and a friend told me that she was crushing on a guy she never met. It may not have been him, but I was the sort to jump to conclusions. That, I think, was the last straw. I tried to kill myself. Sat on the overpass for several hours, thinking over my life. I never told anybody, and I so obviously failed. I was too chicken to go through with it. I really did have nothing. Thus began the bleakest period of my life. Eventually I realized I had to do something.
Holly had always wanted me to go to counseling. I finally upped and did it. It was one of the smartest things I have ever done. And that's not saying a lot, considering I only made maybe three smart decisions in my life. Counseling was one.
The other was not to crash Holly's wedding. I knew I'd get drunk, say things I'd regret. I hadn't spoken to her for five years. She made it clear she didn't want to see me. After what I'd done, didn't do, well, I didn't blame her. I could only hope she'd be happy with this Richard bloke. I wished her well, and let her go. Five years of sadness don't just wash away. Several bottles of German finest took the edge off.
You know, my family was torn apart when Harry left for good. Sad to say that scrap of a person was the only thing that really kept us together. Petunia stayed to take care of me, but mostly him. Much as she resented and hated him, a tiny part of her wouldn't let her forget his mother, her sister, my aunt. They used to be close or something. Vernon stayed with us for the wholesome family image. A single man couldn't host dinner parties, hope for promotions. No, he needed us, the fat parasitic leech. And me? I think I was curious to see how it all panned out. He had been treated like dirt, the lowest of the low, and yet he was, according to some red-headed twins who showed up on our doorstep and proceeded to lecture me, the only one home at the time, the nicest and more revered wizard of the century. They didn't use those words, of course, but I got the gist. I'm not as stupid as I used to be.
Well, while I was drunk, I wrote him a letter. I'd written him several before, poorly written, meandering boring things, which I can only hope to assume he never got, amongst all his other fan mails. You see, the odd thing is, he saved the world, saved everyone's lives. Not just his kind, but our kind too. But this was different. It contained more eloquence than I ever thought I had. It was surprisingly well written for a soused me. It apologized for everything. The apology I had never really given him, the apology I had promised Holly all those years (eons?) ago. I wasn't going to send it via post, like all the other ones. I was determined to give it to him in person. Another drunk idea.
I knew where his best friend lived, or used to. He had said once, one of the summers he just left to go live with them. Somewhere to the west of Ottery St. Catchpole. Well, I made up my drunken, and then later sober mind. I'm going to set things as right as I can, once and for all.
Reviews? Flames? Anyone, anyone? :) Any feedback at all makes me happy.