Chapter 2: Number Four Privet Drive
Harry, while supporting the limp body of Dudley, attempted to grasped the door handle and fiddle with while trying not to let Dudley's cumbersome body fall off to his right. After much careful maneuvering, Harry pried the door with his right ring finger then when the crack was large enough, swung it open with his foot. It had to be open wide enough to fit Dudley through it after all and that was no simple task. Harry made it through the doorway only to be greeted with a terrified Petunia and Vernon guarding themselves against the noisy intruder with a whisk held out like it was a heavy sword and an extremely threatening unplugged hairdryer being masqueraded as purple plastic gun. Petunia's hair was in pink curlers and her body shook like the house was ten below freezing despite her wearing a bathrobe. Her shoulders hunched over as she held the whisk out front and her feet were far apart, planted in the ground. Vernon's face hued a shade of off-white that matched the wallpaper behind him. Once they saw Harry and realized it was simply their freak of a nephew, they relaxed. Vernon's face regained color and Petunia let her shoulders down and the whisk fall to her sides. Vernon glanced at Dudley lying limp and helpless on Harry's back. Vernon's face turned a shade of cherry red and Petunia pursed her lips.
Harry turned left into the drawing room -giving the Dursleys little time to comment- and placed Dudley on the putrid green couch. Dudley's arm flopped down grazing the carpet. He still had the glass eyed look and a small frown as though he couldn't see a thing in the world, and what he could sense didn't matter. For him, there was only nothing. His muscle tee hung off of his skin as if it were paper light. The doily that decorated the sofa fell onto Dudley's still shoulder. He was nothing more than a breathing sack of potatoes.
Petunia tentatively walked up to Dudley and shook his shoulder. Dudley lifted his head to look at his parents for several seconds and then set it down. His eyes held recognition, but the care and emotion was gone. It didn't matter that his parents were standing in front of him with wrinkled brows and worried eyes. Petunia stared at Harry waiting for an explanation, yet none came from his lips. After the long silence, Vernon decided to move first walking over to gauge the temperature of his son with the back of his hand. After realizing that his son was fine in that respect, he turned his head to look at his nephew.
Vernon barked at Harry "Grab the blanket boy!"
Harry obliged, walking over the armchair grabbing the knit blanket draped on the back. He handed it over to Vernon. Petunia scurried to the kitchen to get her son some tea to quell whatever freakish thing happened that night. Vernon opened the blanket up and draped it over his inanimate son. Petunia returned with a small cup of tea and a crumpet balanced on a saucer. She placed the saucer on the coffee table and attempted to hand Dudley the crumpet, outstretching her hand. Dudley didn't respond to her offer or even move so she put the food in his hands. Dudley didn't grab it and let it roll onto the floor. The husband and wife looked at each other realizing that having their son be a willing participant in his recuperation was not working. Vernon pulled Dudley's body up to a sitting position as Petunia lifted the cup of tea up to Dudley's lips and tipped it towards him. The tea dribbled out of his mouth and down the front of his shirt. Petunia shook her head and walked into the kitchen to microwave a washcloth and grab a spoon. She returned with the items. Vernon picked up the spoon, dipped it in the cup of tea and tried to spoon feed Dudley. Dudley wouldn't budge his lips. The tea pooled in his mouth. Petunia grabbed the warm washcloth and started dabbing Dudley's forehead.
Harry felt a stone weigh deep in his stomach and slosh around. His heart shrunk and he felt pain while looking at the Dursley's trying to revive their son from his permanent vegetative state. Dudley would be like this forever. The Dursleys would forever be dabbing his forehead with a washcloth waiting for the day their son could hold a conversation or at the very least acknowledge them.
"It won't make any difference; he won't respond," Harry said looking upon the still visage of Dudley lying rather pathetically on the couch while his parent unsuccessfully attempted to nurse him.
Vernon cranked his head to look at Harry who had been silent for quite a while and sputtered, "Boy! Explain! What did you do to him?"
"It wasn't me. I tried to stop it. It was a dementor a magical creature that can-" Harry responded quietly still thinking about Dudley's fate.
"I think it's a spell you cursed Dudley with. Don't lie to me boy." Vernon towered over Harry, "Petunia, I think this freak has given us enough grief and should finally get what he deserves: to be left on the streets where he should have been a long time ago."
"He's telling the truth Vernon," Petunia said quietly stopping from dabbing Dudley's forehead, "I overheard that boy telling Lily about them when we were young guarding some magical prison."
Harry looked at his aunt eyes wide with surprise. How did she know about dementors? Also, why would his dad tell his aunt about them?
Vernon stiffened his lip and crossed his arms "I don't believe him. We should get rid of him; wipe him off our hands once and for all."
"I don't know whether that's a good idea. Dumbledore said-"
"Petunia we should stop letting ourselves be controlled by these wizards. The longer we listen, the more we have to tolerate their unnaturalness. If we cut Harry out, we cut them all. We'll finally be normal."
"Vernon, I want that. I want that so much, but we have to tolerate him. If not," Petunia looked at Harry then turned her face to Vernon, "We won't be very normal."
"Petunia you're blinded by his freakishness. He hurt our Dudley and doesn't deserve to be our guest."
"I didn't do anything to hurt Dudley! I didn't cast a spell. Two dementors-" Harry shouted.
Suddenly, there was a loud pop accompanied by smoke and two sparks coming from the middle of the room. Onto the coffee table dropped a small letter with a bright red seal addressed to a Mr. H. Potter. Petunia snatched it up before Harry even had the chance. While scanning over the words, her eye widened and she glanced at Harry seething. Her veins popped out of her forehead and her mouth drew into a sneer.
"You disgusting little liar," Petunia said quietly handing the letter to Vernon, "You were right. He lied Vernon -the disgusting freak. You're worse than my little freak of a sister you are!"
Vernon's face flushed a shade of plum that was certainly a warning sign for a heart attack while reading the paper and glared at his nephew which he'd raised and helped care fore albeit neglectfully and abusively for the majority of the duration with an intense rage that he had never felt before. Here was this boy that he fed and clothed at the expense of his own flesh and blood coming back with a son that wouldn't even respond to his parents.
A quiet whoosh of wind was heard in the Dursley's parlor and the drunk man Harry ditched earlier, Mundungus Fletcher, appeared. Vernon wrinkled the letter by clutching it too tightly.
"I've been looking for ya' everywhere Harry." Mundungus slurred.
Harry inched away for the overwhelming stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Mundungus put his arm around Harry's shoulder and Harry wriggled out of the grip of the strange man.
Mundungus caught sight of Dudley laying still on the couch and said,"He got hit wi' the Dementor's Kiss didn't he. Damn shame that is. Worse than death I heard. If anyone halfway deserved it it's him though from what I've seen."
"Worse than death?" Vernon asked the man his eyes bugging out of his skull.
"Ya tha's what the dementor's kiss supposed to be: a fate worse than death. Sucks your soul right out and leaves you a shell. It's cruel that's what it is"
Vernon turned his purple face towards Harry and stomped towards him yelling, "Give me back my son! Reverse what you did to him!"
"I didn't do anything!" Harry replied
"We already know you're lying! Just tell us how we can get our son back! Undo whatever you did! I don't care if you have to revert to your unnatural ways. Just bring Dudley home!"
"I can't"
"What do you mean 'You can't'. You did this you fix it!"
"Dementor's kiss is irreversible. A soul can't be re-put into a body. Believe me people 'ave tried." Mundungus said making an unwelcome reappearance into the conversation.
Vernon stood up and snarled at Harry who tilted his head up to maintain eye contact. He crumpled the letter addressed to Harry and threw it at his feet. Harry picked the letter up and straightened it out.
"Get out," he said staring at the boy who tore his family apart.
"I'm sorry," Harry replied downcast.
"You can be sorry once you're gone. Get out my house, boy!" Vernon said pointing towards the door.
"You can't just kick me out," Harry responded looking up his uncle, a heavy feeling pooling in his stomach.
"Oh yes I can and I will," Vernon replied with fury and glee in his eyes.
Harry was about to open his mouth and respond when his aunt chimed in.
"Harry pack up your things and take your freakishness with you. I don't want you around to hurt Duddikins anymore," Petunia stated ending the erupting argument.
Harry looked at his aunt. She turned her back to him and tended her son. It's funny Harry thought that if he left the Dursleys he wouldn't feel a thing. Harry thought they meant nothing to him and he meant nothing to them in return. If Dudley hadn't been kissed, he wouldn't have felt so guilt ridden about leaving. In fact, he would have been joyous and ecstatic especially because he was now free to live with his godfather. Harry figured that after a while he'd grow content about what happened, but at the moment he was absolutely drained.
Harry walked up the stairs to his bedroom and packed his meager clothing into his trunk. There were screeches as Mundungus was pushed out of the door by Vernon to go wandering about on the front lawn. Harry walked down the stairs carrying his trunk. He set it down when he reached the floor. To his left, he heard Petunia sobbing in the living room. Guilt swelled in his chest so Harry opened the door to walk outside. Mundungus stood on the bit of grass between the street and the sidewalk.
Harry was going to a new life; one where he would live with his godfather and he'd be happy. He looked back at the house that had been the bane of his existence for fourteen years and started walking away to the curb so he could call the night bus. Finally, after fourteen years, Harry Potter left number four Privet drive for good.
A/N: A little shorter than the previous chapter, but there's less going on as well. Not sure if I characterized the Dursleys right. Well I hope you guys liked it!