Dudley Demented
He gestured at his massive chest. Harry understood. Dudley was remembering the clammy cold that filled the lungs as hope and happiness were sucked out of you. "Horrible," croaked Dudley. "Cold. Really cold."
"Okay," said Uncle Vernon, in a voice of forced calm, while Aunt Petunia laid an anxious hand on Dudley's forehead to feel his temperature. "What happened then, Dudders?"
- Rowling, J. K.. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. New York:
Arthur A. Levine Books, 2003.
"Tripped… so cold." Dudley was struggling to get words out. "Saw everything again... so, so cold. Hurt so bad."
Aunt Petunia brought a hand to her mouth, horrified. Uncle Vernon exchanged a nervous look with his wife; he was growing paler than Harry had ever seen him.
"Son… you don't know what you're saying," Uncle Vernon immediately began to quiet Dudley. Then, turning towards Harry, he began to shriek.
"YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN AN ORPHAN AT A MADHOUSE FOR CHILDREN WHO THINK THEY CAN DO… YOU KNOW." He shuddered, unable to bring himself to say the word "magic."
Harry was furious but, for the moment, he was unconcerned with Uncle Vernon. He was certain that his Patronus Charm was going to get him expelled from Hogwarts. While Uncle Vernon was busy yelling, Harry was anxiously awaiting another owl from the Ministry. He slowly began to get up from the table, hoping to retreat to his room for the rest of the night.
Uncle Vernon noticed Harry's movement and slammed his pudgy fists on the table. He stood up and leaned over Harry's face, so close that Harry could make out every greasy hair in his black moustache. His mouth opened, and Harry braced himself. But before Uncle Vernon could get a sound out, Dudley moaned again.
"You..." He pointed at Harry. "You… are the biggest… c- c- coward." It took all of Dudley's strength to mutter the insult, but as he said it, color returned to his face and he slowly began to raise himself off the floor. "But ev-everyone just loves you anyways."
"You don't know what it's like to be afraid." Dudley continued. His speech was slowly returning to normal, but the words did not seem to be coming from Dudley. "You're so bloody skinny but you just h- hide behind that… thing. No one wants to fight you."
Harry was stunned. He would have never imagined seeing Dudley, all 350 pounds of Junior Heavyweight Champion, standing in a pool of his own vomit, fighting for words.
"It leaned over my… my face. It didn't have a face, just tried to suck everything out of me. It was so damp there, and cold. Windy."
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were both teetering on their toes, leaning as close as they could towards Dudley, holding their breath.
Dudley used a sweaty hand to swat Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia away. He kept mumbling.
"Hurt… so bad. He just pointed the umbrella at me and… and I just…" He began to wail; making a noise that Harry would have never expected out of a boy Dudley's size. "I couldn't even g-get a punch off. He was too… too big"
Harry knew exactly what Dudley was imagining. It was hard for anyone to forget Hagrid's overwhelming intrusion into the tiny hut on the rock. For Dudley, it ended with a trip to London to get a pig's tail removed from his behind.
"I… I'm not a pig. Not… not anym- more." He weakly pounded his chest and leered at Harry. "This is muscle; this is more than... than you'd ever have."
Aunt Petunia was whimpering. "Dudley, baby. You don't have to say anything else. Shush."
He was too dazed to acknowledge Aunt Petunia. "And then when… when they all came in the fireplace. And my tongue… they almost r- r- ripped it off. Laughed at me."
Harry almost snickered at the memory of Fred and George's Ton-Tongue Toffee. Dudley's tongue had grown four feet long before Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon let Arthur Weasley undo the candy's charm.
For a moment, the glaze that had been covering Dudley's eyes cleared. He stood up quickly and looked around, disoriented. Then, he collapsed.
Simultaneously, Uncle Vernon whirled around to face Harry, and Harry drew his wand, expecting Uncle Vernon's reaction. They both froze; Uncle Vernon was frightened of Harry's wand, and Harry was unable to risk any more penalties from the Ministry.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SON? YOU WORTHLESS ORPHAN!" Uncle Vernon was fuming. "Get out. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
Harry walked towards the door. At this point in the evening, he was too numb to feel anything. He just stood on the steps of the Privet Drive house and scanned the sky, half-hoping to see another owl. He grabbed the doorknob and began to pull the door shut behind him, when he heard Dudley moan.
"Don't make him l- l- leave."
Uncle Vernon was stunned. "What do you mean 'don't make him leave'? That boy almost bloody killed you!"
"He… it wasn't his fault." Dudley's words were becoming less and less clear; the tone of his voice had changed entirely. "Please… give him… a chance."
Harry silently walked back through the door, into the foyer. Aunt Petunia was holding a cold cloth to Dudley's forehead. She was stroking his back, more for her benefit than for his. Uncle Vernon was pacing.
"They came. And they… they would h- h- have taken me if he hadn't been there." Dudley was hoarse. Aunt Petunia's eyes were fixed on Harry.
"He made it… it was silver … Came out of the tip of his wand…"
"HE SHOT YOU?" cried Uncle Vernon.
Harry interjected, drawing attention to the fact that he had re-entered the house. "No-"
"No." Dudley finished. "It… it saved me. It was like a ghost… It was a horse… but it had antlers. It made everything stop. No… no more tail. I wasn't a pig anymore."
He looked at Harry and slowly nodded his head, a miniscule gesture. No one else in the room noticed. But Harry recognized the small sign of respect. It was the same nod he'd give the other members of the gang after a good fight. Harry silently nodded back.
"WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT, BOY?" Uncle Vernon broke Harry out of his exchange with Dudley, and demanded an explanation for his son's uncharacteristic behavior. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?"
"How many times do I have to tell you?" said Harry, temper and voice both rising. "It wasn't me! It was a couple of Dementors!"
"A couple of - what's this codswallop?"
"De - men - tors," said Harry slowly and clearly. "Two of them."
"And what the ruddy hell are Dementors?"
"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," said Aunt Petunia.
- Rowling, J. K.. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. New York:
Arthur A. Levine Books, 2003.