A/N: I was very pleased with the response I received for the first chapter of this, so thank you very much. Here is the second chapter, I hope you enjoy.

This chapter has been heavily edited after a couple of reviews I received. I won't ruin it, but the original version did not portray what I had in my mind clearly enough, so much so that even I stopped believing my own story. However, I sat during a boring shift at work and thought it through, and came up with the analogy Hermione uses in the piece. I truly hope this improves the story.

My thanks once again to seekers_destiny over at SIYE for his beta work on this chapter, and my thanks to SIYE for the challenge that began this story in my head. Finally, a huge thank you to Harold Lloyd (guest reviewer) and Arrowkid21, for their very honest reviews, and for making me improve this chapter.

Oppression by Association

Chapter 2 – Explanations

Harry sat in the dining room of the house that he never thought he would step foot in again, and found himself actually concerned for his 'family', an emotion he wasn't used to feeling with regards the people who begrudgingly brought him up. The actual well-being of the people in front of him wasn't the main reason for his worry, but the circumstances surrounding them were more than disturbing.

From what he could tell from Petunia's sobbing, the explosion in the lounge had not come from an outside source, but from inside, specifically, from his cousin Dudley. The idea that Dudley had performed magic, especially of this scale, so late in life, was unheard of. So much so, that he had contacted three people he trusted to help him out.

With the extra bodies, the kitchen was rather crowded, but to figure out what had happened, he would need all of them. Firstly, he'd sent a patronus to Poppy Pomfrey, the stern matron who presided over the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Dudley's condition was unknown, beyond the cursory once over that the AMRAS team had given when they had first arrived, and Harry had always found that, while the staff at St. Mungo's were fantastic, nothing could compare to the trust he had in Madam Pomfrey. She had arrived promptly, not required at Hogwarts during the summer, except to brew potions she would need for the coming year.

Secondly, he had sent a message to his former transfiguration teacher and current headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall. Harry had to admit, there was currently too many questions that he didn't have answers to, and he hoped she might be able to shed some light on the situation.

Finally, he had contacted the person who he had relied on since he had joined the magical world at age 11, Hermione Granger – no, Weasley. He still struggled to remember that she had married his other best mate earlier that year. If there was a problem he couldn't figure out, he was sure that she could. She had dropped her work at the Department for Control of Magical Creatures to be here, which, not for the first time, he was glad that most of her work was led by herself, giving her control over her own job, despite how young she was.

That had been over half an hour ago, and other than the initial conversations about what had happened, the room had been silent, allowing Madam Pomfrey to give a full check over the young man in front of her. During the course of her examination, the white glow that had been emanating from Dudley's skin had faded to near nothing, and other than that, he appeared unharmed. He hadn't woken up from his unconscious state yet.

With a final flick of her wand, Pomfrey turned to the rest of the group, and looked around. She gave a soft sigh, before saying "he's just suffering from magical fatigue, though as he is supposed to be a Muggle, I don't understand how. It's almost as though he has acquired a magical core from somewhere, but we all know this is impossible. Such things would have squibs clamouring to get one themselves."

"People are supposed to be born with their magical cores though, and then they develop as they grow older." Hermione said, tenting her fingers together on the table she was sat at, "that's why things like that Kwikspell course are scams, there's no way to make a squib perform magic, they don't have the core to do it. Same with Muggles. So how has Dudley created all of that devastation in the lounge?" Harry could see her forehead crease as she frowned. It seemed to be an impossibility.

"Aunt Petunia," Harry said, amazed at how soft his voice sounded. His public relations training in the Auror program last year had worked it seemed. She looked up, her red rimmed eyes that had long cried themselves out, finding his out. She had managed to compose herself somewhat while the examination of her son was going on. "Have you noticed anything strange with Dudley recently, or at any time? Anything like I used to do?" He avoided the use of the word magic while directly talking to her, seeing as the word would be thrown around the kitchen enough to give her a heart attack as it was.

She appeared to be giving it some thought, but then shook her head. "No, it was just you who showed these freakish behaviours," she said, earning a glare from everyone else in the room. She had the good grace to look guilty at her outburst. Harry simply held up his hand before any of his partners showed any sign of retaliating.

"Aunt Petunia, let me remind you that we are here to help, and my friends and colleagues will not be willing to do this if you insult them." He said in a calm tone, before adding "and remember, you asked for me to come here."

Petunia averted her eyes to the floor and mumbled a small apology. Harry just shook his head in exasperation.

"So, someone who we believed to be a Muggle turns out to actually be a wizard, yet none of us have any clue as to how or why." He announced to the room. He ignored the small gasp that came from his aunt as he said her son was magical. What was done is done, and she'd have to get used to the idea. "Minerva, why wasn't Dudley in Hogwarts if he is magical?"

His former teacher furrowed her brow as she racked her brains for an answer, but she eventually shook her head, "I'm unsure Harry. There is a magical book that keeps a record of every child with a magical core. Squibs and Muggles obviously do not register, but the book has never failed yet. Take Neville for instance. He exhibited no magical qualities until he was almost Hogwarts age, but he was registered from birth. The number of letters his Great Uncle Algie sent to Albus to check the records for whether Neville was a squib or not. But he was always on there. But as for Dudley, I don't know."

Harry groaned in frustration. Discussing it was getting them nowhere. There was only one thing to do. "Poppy, is it safe to wake him up?" She nodded once. "Ok, Ron, can you take Aunt Petunia to the hallway, in case something happens." Ron grabbed his wand and moved to take Petunia's arm to guide her out, but she pulled away, looking fearful.

"No, I want to see what you're doing to my baby." She said defiantly, looking up at her nephew with pleading eyes. Rolling his eyes at her display of affection, Harry motioned to Ron to leave her be.

"Ok, but move over here, away from him, just in case. Ron, can you be ready with a shield charm next to her, so nothing happens." The two swapped to the other side of the kitchen, and Ron stood as sentry with his wand out and pointed in the general direction of the medical bed.

"Hermione, Minerva, I need to ask to you stand by me, in case we have to battle any residual magic. Poppy, can you wake him on my signal, and be ready to move away if anything goes wrong?" Again, he ignored the slight whimper from his aunt behind him. He pulled out his own wand and levelled it at Dudley, watching as Hermione and McGonagall did the same on either side of him. Readying himself, he gave the nod to Poppy, who whisked her wand over Dudley's head and muttered "Reenervate."

Immediately, Dudley's eyes snapped open and he looked around fearfully. Harry immediately recognised the problem he'd created here. Waking up to find four wands pointed at him, after passing out in the confusion from before, Dudley was terrified. In attempting to protect everybody in the area, Harry had probably endangered them all.

To start with, there was nothing, except for Dudley's eyes flicking around the kitchen, taking in everybody around him. When his eyes locked with Harry's, his face lit up in fearful recognition, before his skin began to actually light up once more.

"Protego!" Harry shouted, and the word was repeated around him, until shield charms filled the kitchen. Poppy backed away behind McGonagall's shield, and was swishing her wand through the air, quickly diagnosing what was happening.

"His temperature is rising quickly, as is his heart rate. I can feel the magic reacting once more, but it's a strain. He's not recovered fully yet." She said, keeping her voice level in the way only a professional nurse could.

"Use that to our advantage, his magic won't be as powerful compared to if we woke him later." Ron shouted from the back, as he moved more in front of Petunia, covering her totally with his shield.

Dudley's skin was now glowing brighter than it had when they had discovered him, and his body was starting to convulse slightly, as though holding back a caged beast within him. He continued to stare fearfully into Harry's eyes. The look made something click in Harry's mind.

"Everyone, brace yourself." He said to the people around him. Quickly checking, he saw them widen their stance and their shields became a little more opaque, though still translucent enough that he could see what was happening. He looked back at Dudley, who's frightful gaze still hadn't broken from Harry. He locked eyes with him, before taking a deep breath, hoping he was doing the right thing.

"Let it go Dudley, you're safe." He shouted, noticing for the first time that the air in the room was shifting and the kitchen utensils were rattling noisily. Dudley shook his head sharply, not able to break eye contact. Harry's features softened slightly, and his voice lost its edge, "Please, we're here, you can let go."

Whether he believed the words, or simply because he couldn't hold on any longer, Dudley's head arched back, staring at the ceiling, and he shut his eyes tightly closed. He let out a loud scream the likes of which Harry had never heard, and released hold of whatever he was trying to stop.

The brightness in Dudley's skin seemed to expand outwards, leaving his body entirely and expanding equally all around him. When it had extended around a meter away from his body, he took a deep breath, and screamed again, louder, and the light released entirely.

The room was filled with white, and the force of the release meant that even when they dug their heels in best they could, the three at the front of the group skidded backwards a foot, and Hermione's hair was whipped around, almost hitting Harry in the eye as it went. Ron faired a little better, being further away, and his shield took most of the force.

It lasted barely five seconds, before Dudley's voice gave out, along with the light, which quickly retracted back into his skin and faded to the dull glow he'd had before they woke him. He lay there, panting heavily and shaking, though not convulsing like he was seconds before. He was however, wide awake, and hadn't blacked out this time.

Sensing the real danger had passed, Harry lowered his shield, but kept his wand in his hand. The others around him did the same, and Pomfrey hurried forward to check her patient. After just a few waves of her wand, she looked at the others and stated "Just exhaustion again, seems that this time he used up the last of his reserves. We should be safe now."

Harry relaxed his grip on his wand, and let out a long breath. He'd dealt with people in lots of pain in the field, broken bones and the like, and witnessed people under the Cruciatus curse, but this had seemed much worse. The fact that it was personal, however much his relationship with his family was tainted, just made it worse. He was taken back to listening to Hermione back at Malfoy Manor four years ago. Taking a look around, he could see that Ron had gone very pale, which suggested he too, had been caught in the memory.

Moving forward, Harry joined Poppy at the bed and looked over his cousin. He looked a mess, after two bouts of magical power the likes of which Harry hadn't see for a long time he wasn't really surprised. He was lucky really that his body was able to cope with it, as usually the body needs to be used to magic to use it properly. Dudley's boxing training a few years ago must have really helped him physically cope with the outburst.

"Feeling alright Dudley?" He asked in as calm a voice as he could, trying to manage the fear that he felt. Dudley nodded, albeit slowly, still trying to catch his breath. "You're not in any pain?"

Taking a second to mentally check himself over, Dudley shook his head, and muttered "Ache", before laying his head back heavily on the bed and letting out a huge breath, steadying himself. "Wha' happened?" He asked.

Harry took a quick glance at Madam Pomfrey to ask for permission, which she gave, before saying, "You've surprised us all today Dudley. What just happened is you suffered a magical outburst. The aches and pains you might be feeling are because you're magically exhausted, and your body needs to replenish your magic."

Dudley's eyes went wide at the word magic. Whether this was reaction to the discovery he was magical, or simply because the word was considered taboo in this house was unknown, but Harry thought it was probably a combination of both.

"The question is, how have you had a magical outburst, if you aren't magical?" Harry said, not harshly, but in a way that suggested that Dudley knew more than he was letting on about this. Dudley closed his eyes, as though trying to block out the question. Harry took this as affirmation of his belief, and pushed a little, "This isn't the first time you've used magic, is it?"

Dudley again screwed his face up, but shook his head from side to side. Petunia gave a gasp from somewhere behind Harry, but he ignored her again and instead asked, "What happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Dudley looked up at the ceiling, trying to block out the rest of the room, and spoke, "I think I was nine. It wasn't long after you managed to get on the school roof that one time when we were chasing you. I couldn't believe what I'd seen. So I tried it myself. I stood in the back garden while nobody was around, and jumped. Nothing happened. I tried again and again, willing myself to do something. Just as I was about to give up, one of my jumps took me really high, like, more than it should have high. I probably could have got over the fence into next door."

He screwed his eyes up once more, as if remembering this was painful to him. "I kept trying, and the next time it happened, I managed to get on the garage roof. Took me ten minutes to get down again. So I tried different things, like running faster. And for the next few weeks, I could catch you easier. It was working. I didn't understand what I was doing, but it didn't matter."

Turning his head, he looked into his cousin's eyes, looking truly apologetic, "Then one day, you did something weird. I think you blew the locks off the cupboard door. Anyway, Dad went mad. I can remember you shouting with pain. You came out of the lounge with a cut on your lip and a black eye."

All eyes in the room were on Harry, and he sighed, "I remember. That was the last time your dad hit me. I think the black eye went after a day, but someone from school questioned the cut on my lip."

"I told him no." Petunia said from the back of the room. Harry turned and looked at his aunt, his brow furrowing at the news. "I told him not to hurt you. I might have hated you, and been jealous of my sister, but I couldn't let my husband beat up my flesh and blood."

Harry's eyes widened at the admission, but then he steeled his features and nodded, before turning back to Dudley, motioning for him to continue.

"Suddenly, I didn't want these powers. I didn't want to run faster or jump higher or anything. So I shut them down. I never used them again, and stopped thinking that I could do them. Even when you were told you were a wizard, I never tried to use them again. I wanted to kill them." He said quietly.

Harry looked at his cousin sympathetically, something he didn't imagine could ever happen. Dudley, while he hadn't cared about Harry, had been just as fearful of his uncle as he had. He suddenly found himself becoming angry about his Uncle's behaviours, and how they had affected people's lives around him. He wondered whether his aunt had encountered anything that had scarred her like he and Dudley had.

"It doesn't work like that though," Harry said, looking Dudley in the eye. "Look at Uncle Vernon. He tried to stamp magic out of me for years, it never worked. If you suppressed your magic, and didn't train it like wizards should, it's going to grow at the normal rate, but eventually it'll be uncontrollable."

"So that's what happened then?" Ron asked, still standing near Petunia, but looking much more relaxed than when he was guarding her. She herself had started sobbing once more at the tale. "Dudley suppressed his magic so long that it needed letting out, anyway it could?" Hermione nodded, coming to this conclusion herself. She had really caused Ron to gain a clinical mind over the years they were dating, especially combined with the Auror training he had received.

"It doesn't explain why he never went to Hogwarts though." Harry said "He has a magical core, he should have been in the books"

"Perhaps it does though," Hermione said, looking excited, as though she had realised something important. "Professor, if a young witch or wizard dies before they reach the age they would receive the Hogwarts letter, is one sent anyway?" She asked McGonagall, talking rapidly.

McGonagall merely looked shocked at the idea, "Of course not. Rowena Ravenclaw made the book so that letters would not be sent to those children who were deceased. The last thing the parents would need is their child's Hogwarts letter turning up on their doorstep."

If anything, this only seemed to make Hermione happier, and she turned back to Harry. "You've just seen that Dudley's magic appears pretty strong, despite being a late bloomer. Dudley's previous experiences with magic were simply a case of 'wish, and you shall obtain'. He asked his magic to do something, and it reacted in such a way as it happened, like in most children."

"Yeah, so?" Ron asked from the back of the room, not looking like he was entirely following where his wife was heading. His clinical mind was newly developed after all.

"So, Dudley said he wanted to 'kill' his powers. His magic can't actually kill itself, as that would probably kill Dudley too, nor could it remove itself from Dudley in anyway." She answered, rolling her eyes at Ron. "My bet is it did the only thing it could, it blocked itself, sealing away the core from anything and everything, and essentially killing itself from the outside world. The book probably measured its magical core as dying, and thus erased him from its pages, as though Dudley himself had died. Now that its back, he's probably back on the records, though obviously, Dudley will not receive a letter, as he is not eleven."

"Meanwhile," she continued, as the rest of the room contemplated this, "his magical core received no training, and thus, grew wild inside its cocoon, eventually breaking free and here we are. Accidental magic happens in spikes, and this spike was just too much pressure for the cocoon to handle."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Judging by the huge outburst of power he'd seen earlier, Dudley was a very powerful wizard in his own right. The outburst was probably magnified from years of his magic building without any form of outlet, but it still showed something within the higher echelon of magical power. Sealing away his own magic would take a tremendous amount of power, but magic could seal other people's powers, so it stood to reason it could block itself.

"So, in summary, Dudley locked away his magic from everything, including himself, from age nine onwards. Now, aged twenty-one, it has built up for twelve years, and finally smashed through the barriers he created and poured out of his system, having nowhere to go."

Looking around, everyone seemed to agree with this assessment.

"Ok, well, I guess we need to teach Dudley about the wizarding world."

A/N: And so this concludes chapter 2. Now you've read it, the issues that reviewers had previously asked why Dudley did not receive a letter, as he had a magical core. Simply stating he "blocked it" doesn't change that he'd have received a letter from birth, but the analogy that Hermione uses about death is actually what I meant, that he blocked it so it was wiped from the books. Additional comments to this, or any other, end are always welcome.