"I don't think you're a waste of space," he said.

He didn't believe that he had just said that. He had wanted to say something to that effect for two years ever since Harry saved his life. He turned bright red.

"Well ... er ... thanks, Dudley," said the bespectacled boy. Dudley thought quickly for a decent reply but ended up mumbling, "You saved my life."

The other boy gave him a look. "Not really. It was your soul the Dementor would have taken ... "

The other boy, Harry, looked at his cousin curiously, and Dudley understood why. There had never been any kind of friendship between the two boys, and after the previous events Harry had been keeping himself to himself. All of a sudden his mother burst in to tears and ran forwards to give Dudley a hug. Dudley automatically started to zone out of what she was saying. It was a skill he had learned three years ago and he just pretended to listen to his parents. They never had anything interesting to say. They were way too embarrassing, as well.

He saw the witch conversing with Harry in angry tones and thankfully his father returned to the room.

"Are we going or not?" he shouted. "I thought we were on a tight schedule!"

The wizard started talking fast in an incomprehensible manner, shook Harry's hand and left the room, with the witch copying his actions. Dudley prised himself away from his mother and approached his cousin to shake his hand.

"Blimey, Dudley, did the Dementors blow a different personality into you?"

Dudley went red again. "Dunno," he muttered. "See you, Harry."

"Yeah," said Harry, shaking Dudley's hand. "Maybe. Take care, Big D."

Dudley smirked and walked out of the room in a hurry, not wanting to look back at the cousin he would probably never see again. He heard his mother somewhere behind him saying her own farewells to Harry and then caught up with her husband.

"We should have been nicer to him," said Petunia, stepping in to the passenger seat of the car. Vernon snorted.

"And where would that have gotten us? Eh? He wouldn't have appreciated a thing we did for him."

"But maybe...," his wife started, but her voice faded. "No, you're right. He wouldn't have."

Dudley was furious with his parents. Hadn't they noticed a single thing about their nephew over the seventeen years he'd been living with them? He was one of the most modest and honourable people Dudley had ever met, maybe even the most. And here they were... He had half a mind to get out of the car and walk away from them. But he didn't. He knew what was out there.

His uncle started up the car and followed witch and wizard from earlier who were now sitting on brooms. Dudley heard his father mutter "Preposterous," under his breath but follow them anyway. Every so often they would look back to make sure that Vernon could see them. Every time they did Vernon smiled sarcastically and swore at them.

"Ruddy wizards. They should all be shot of," he said, and Dudley grew hot under the collar. This time, though, his mother spoke up.

"Vernon, please just focus on the driving," she snapped, and Dudley smirked, mimicking his mother's voice under his breath. His mother twisted round to look at him.

"Are you all, right, Duddikins?" she asked, using that nickname she had been using for eighteen years# that he detested.

"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about me," he said in a defeated tone, and his mother turned back smiling.

"Good, Duddikins. That's very good," and at that Dudley himself snapped.

"Will you please stop calling me that? I'm not a child anymore!" he screamed at her, resulting in her looking affronted.

"Dudley Jasper Dursley, you will not speak to your mother like that!" exploded his father, nearly losing control of the car.

"No, Dad, I won't!" he screamed, having finally lost control of himself. "I've been living with you for eighteen years. Eighteen years! Do you know how many times I've packed my bags in the middle of the night and only walked as far as Magnolia Crescent before turning back? I've lost count! Neither of you noticed because you think everything's fine for me, but it's not!"

He stopped shouting at his parents long enough to take a deep breath. Once he had calmed down slightly he spoke again.

"Stop the car."

"Dudley," his father warned. "If you get out now there will be no second chances."

"Fine," said Dudley, casting one last glare at his parents. "I quit."

He slammed the door shut behind him and started walking back the way they had come. He had no idea where they were but knew that they had been heaving north. He remembered seeing a sign for Hertfordshire not that far back. He trudged on in the night sky and watched as the stars shone in the sky. There would be no hope for any of us, will there, he thought as a shooting star sent streak across the night. He crossed his podgy fingers and made a wish.

I wish everything works out for Harry, he thought, and he saw a bright light suddenly appear in his mind, as though the shooting star had struck him. There were words echoing.

"You have yet a part to play in this war, Dudley Dursley. You cannot give up just yet."

He saw a face appear in the stars and look at him, and he suddenly became very self conscious. Could anyone see what he could? Or was it magic? He assumed the latter.

"Remember, as your cousin fights his greatest fight yet, you too shall be on the field."

The face disappeared and Dudley felt like he had been hit by an electric train at full speed. He fell back on to the gravely ground and scratched his elbow, but brushed away the dirt. He clumsily returned to his feet and started walking again, only to stumble as he walked. He rolled up his brown khakis and saw a massive amount of blood coming out from his knee.

"Aw, crud," he said, and started running as fast as he could to the nearest town or village. A sign was up ahead which read "Sandridge", and Dudley decided it was good enough. He saw a pub with its lights it up and he stumbled through the door and asked for a glass of water. The barman gave him a bemused look before turning away and filling a pint glass with tap water. Dudley grabbed a load of napkins and went to sit down in the corner. Every eye in the room was on him.

"What, can't I have a little peace?" he asked to the room, who shrugged their shoulders and returned to their conversations in hushed tones. Dudley ignored them and rolled up his leg again and dabbed at his knee with a napkin. He cursed under his breath and managed to get the worst of the blood away with only three napkins. He used the rest of dampen the skin and help seal it up. Then he sat in silence and drank the rest of the water.

"Hey, mind if I join you?" asked a voice, and Dudley looked up. A man about the same age as him was standing there with a pint of lager in one hand.

"Sure," Dudley said, and the man sat down. He offered Dudley his hand.

"My name's Stephen Drew. Call me Steve," He said, and Dudley shook his hand.

"Dudley Dursley," he said, making Steve wince.

"Wow, you have harsh parents," he said whilst laughing and Dudley humoured him a little.

"Yeah, they were harsh," he said with a smirk, and Steve seemed to notice what he meant.

"They left you, did they?" Dudley nodded. "How did they die?"

"Woah," Dudley said. "They didn't die. But they left me nonetheless."

Steve nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. A mate of mine had that happen to him three years back. He's been living in my basement ever since."

Dudley looked at Steve and wanted to punch him in the face and start crying, but he refrained himself. He just nudged at Steve a little.

"Hey, may I..." he motioned towards the sign labelled "Men's", and Steve looked and nodded.

"Sure mate," he said and shimmied out to let Dudley past. Dudley walked briskly to the door and pushed it aside, expecting to find it dingy inside. Instead, it was all oak and silver plated taps.

A minute later he emerged and was still in awe of it. He had never seen a toilet as good as that in a pub before. He saw Steve in the corner but ignored him and walked right out the door and up the road. He heard a ringing from behind him and turned to see Steve running up to him.

"Are you trying to ditch me, mate?" he said, and Dudley shook his head. "Good. Come on back to my place, right?" Dudley nodded. "Excellent." The two walked off towards a rather shabby house on the edge of Sandridge where Steve pushed the door open.

"Why isn't you door locked?" asked Dudley as he walked in to what was possibly the most horrible house he had every seen. There were stains all over the place and it looked like it hadn't been lived in for a few days.

"I don't need to," Steve said, turning to face Dudley. As they looked each other in the eye Steve's change started to change before Dudley's eyes and he tried to run. Steve pulled out a shape that was far too familiar to Dudley. A wand.

"Oh for Christ's sake!" he shouted. "Can't I just get away from it all?" he asked out loud, as he heard Steve shout something behind him. He ducked and saw a green light hit into the front door and saw it get blown off its hinges.

"Where is Harry Potter?" asked a voice which was nothing like Steve's, as it was much slower and full of malicious intent. Dudley swore. This was meant to end back at their house in Surrey.

"How do you know about my cousin?" he asked back, and saw another green light shoot out from the wand. He ducked that one and continued approaching the not-Steve.

"The Dark Lord needs him," the man said, and now that the light was gone, Dudley could see his face. It was pointed and brown hair stuck up in random places. Now that he listened, the voice was slightly northern.

"You mean Voldemort?" wondered Dudley aloud, causing the man to flinch and hiss.

"Do not say his name!" he screamed at Dudley who suddenly saw an opportunity.

"Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort!" he shouted, and the man covered his ears in fear. Dudley was now on top of him and threw a punch out the man on the side of the head, knocking him out cold. "Screw Voldemort," he said to the unconscious body, spitting on his face. He turned towards the doorway and walked out to find a man in a dark robe standing there and watching him with interest.

"So you are Potter's cousin?" it said, and Dudley immediately thought that it sounded like a snake.

"Yes," Dudley said confidently at the man, who stepped forward so that Dudley could see his face. It was completely pale with red eyes are slits where a nose should be, just like a snake. Dudley recoiled.

"I am Lord Voldemort," he hissed at Dudley, who spat in his face. Voldemort wiped the spit away and laughed a high-pitched laugh that almost made Dudley scream in pain.

"Muggles amuse me so much," he said, before taking out his wand and pointing it at Dudley. "It seems such a shame to waste it."

He seemed to be thinking something over before looking back to Dudley.

"You know what, Potter's cousin?" he said. "I'm going to play a game."

He paused for effect. Dudley could feel the wind blowing around him and felt certain that there would be no one who could see, hear or feel a thing that wasn't there. He had experienced enough magic.

"What is this game?" he asked, and Voldemort laughed again.

"You can start running. I'll give you a month to run before I will start looking for you again. You understand me?"

"I understand you perfectly," said Dudley, holding out a hand to shake on the deal. "Deal?"

Lord Voldemort held out his long spidery fingers and took Dudley's hand, causing shivers to shiver up his arm.

"Deal,"

There was a loud crack and Voldemort disappeared, leaving Dudley standing there in the freezing cold wind.

He looked around to see if anyone was watching and he started running towards the sign-posted "St. Albans", hoping to find some kind of church, for he had surely met the Devil.