Chapter 2 – It's Not All Bad
Number four, Privet Drive looked just the same as it had done when Harry last saw it. Nothing ever seemed to change — especially the Dursleys.
As they got out of the car, Vernon barked at Harry, "Take your things upstairs, boy! Clean up your room! And stay out of your aunt's way!" Then he unlocked the front door, and Aunt Petunia proceeded him into the house. Dudley gave Harry a sideways glance before following his father inside.
It took Harry two trips to get his trunk, broomstick, and Hedwig's cage up to his room. It, too, had not changed. In fact, it looked as though no one had been in it all year. It was just as he had left it, and dust lay thick on everything. Harry hung Hedwig's cage from a hook in the ceiling and began cleaning his room. He dusted everything, swept the floor, polished the furniture, and cleaned the windows.
As he worked, he thought about what Dumbledore had said. He was going to have to make peace with his cousin. It was the only way. So, he resigned himself to be nice to Dudley no matter how much it might hurt. Dudley walked by a couple of times, and glanced in while Harry was cleaning, but didn't say anything. Harry didn't know quite what to make of his peculiar behavior, but at least he wasn't being a bully. Harry noticed on the drive home that Dudley wasn't acting like himself. In fact, he was being remarkably nice.
After he had cleaned everything, Harry closed the door to his room and started unpacking his trunk. He stacked his books on the desk and hung his robes and muggle clothes in the closet. He was digging down near the bottom, trying to decide what to keep and what to throw away, when he heard a soft knock at the door. He got up to answer it, and there stood Dudley, looking confused. He was about to speak, when Dudley suddenly turned and walked away.
"Can I help you?" Harry called after him as nicely as he could. Dudley continued to leave, glancing over his shoulder as he went. Harry shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, closed the door, and continued sifting through his trunk.
Dinner that evening was extremely uncomfortable. There was a lot of chewing and glancing at each other but not much else. Uncle Vernon made a few snide comments about the news, and Aunt Petunia cast a few disparaging remarks about the neighbors. Dudley said nothing. He just sat there chewing, his large double chin working up and down as he devoured his dinner and threw sideways glances at Harry. Unlike the others, Harry had a lot to say. But it would have started World War Three, so he kept what he knew to himself and waited.
Uncle Vernon must have been talking with his sister, Marge again, or he was dreading the summer ahead. Near the end of the meal, he rounded on Harry like a vicious bulldog. "You might as well know now, boy! You're gonna work for your keep this summer! The neighbors aren't going to say I have a sorry lay-about living under my roof! I don't know what they teach you at that freak school of yours, but this summer you're going to learn to work. And no hocus pocus, either! I won't stand for it! No sir! You'll be out on your ear, boy! Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir, Uncle Vernon," he said, knowing he had to be diplomatic — though it sounded like this was going to be the worst summer ever. When Uncle Vernon was finished threatening him, Harry thought he caught a sympathetic look from Dudley. But it could have been just his imagination.
As soon as he could escape the Dursleys, Harry went up to his room where he could be alone. His teachers had assigned a lot of summer reading, and he thought he'd better get a head start on it.
At ten o'clock, the Dursleys went to bed. Harry wasn't sleepy, so he kept reading. At eleven, a soft knock on the door caught his attention. He answered it, and there stood an obviously frightened Dudley in his pajamas.
"What are you doing here, Dudley?" he asked quietly.
"C-Can I talk to y-you, H-Harry?" Dudley sputtered.
Harry put his finger to his lips in a gesture of silence and motioned for Dudley to come in. Then, he closed the door as quietly as possible so as not to wake his aunt and uncle. Dudley sat in the chair at Harry's desk, trembling from head to toe. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"C-Can I trust you?" he asked, his feet fidgeting as though he wanted to run. He was frightened, and Harry felt sorry for him. He had never asked Harry for anything before, and Harry knew it couldn't be easy for him.
"I know we don't get along most of the time," said Harry cautiously, as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "But we're still cousins. You can trust me."
"You can't tell mum and dad," he pleaded, wringing his hands. "They'll think I'm a freak!"
Harry felt pity for him. He knew how cruel his aunt and uncle could be. "You're not a freak, Dudley," he assured him. "And I won't tell your mum and dad. Now, what's wrong? Why are you so scared?"
He already knew what was wrong and why Dudley was scared, but he couldn't let on that he knew — not yet anyway.
Dudley looked around as though trying to make sure they were alone. "Weird things have been happening to me. Strange things!" he said, shaking with fright.
"Like what?" asked Harry.
Dudley fidgeted a little in his chair. "Like this," he said, holding his hand out over Harry's desk. The quill laying on Harry's book rose into the air and flew right into Dudley's outstretched hand. "And watch this," he said. He stretched out his arm towards the dresser on the other side of the room. Harry's comb floated over and landed in Dudley's hand.
"See?" he said. "At first I thought it was something you did — some magic you left behind. But it's been happening more and more — sometimes when I'm not even trying. I'm scared, Harry!"
Dudley might have been a bully in the past, but right now he looked like a pitiful little boy, and Harry's heart went out to him. "There's no reason to be scared, Dudley," he said, as he awkwardly put his hand on Dudley's shoulder to comfort him. "It's what they call accidental magic."
"What's that?" Dudley asked, still fidgeting.
Harry tried to think of the best way to explain so Dudley could understand without frightening him even more.
"It's like this, Dudley," he began. "When a witch and a wizard have a child, it's always magical. Most wizard children start showing signs of magic by age seven. But they're too young to control it, and sometimes things happen. Do you remember when I landed on the roof of the schoolhouse? When I shrank your old sweater? When I made the glass on the boa constrictor cage disappear?"
"Yeah!" he said. "I'll never forget it!"
"Well, I didn't mean for all those things to happen. They were accidents. That's why they call it accidental magic."
Dudley shifted in his chair again and looked confused. "But what about me? My mum and dad aren't wizards?"
"Do you know what heredity is?" asked Harry.
"Like your hair and eye color?" he said.
"Exactly," said Harry. "Imagine that your great grandmother had red hair. Your grandparents and your mum and dad all have brown hair. Then you're born with red hair. The color red can hide for generations and then show up again. Magic is like that, Dudley. Sometimes a magical person is born into a family where there haven't been any witches or wizards for hundreds of years — like your Aunt Lily."
A look of comprehension came across Dudley's face. "I never thought about it like that," he said. "Your mum was my aunt, and she was a witch."
"You didn't know that?" said Harry incredulously.
"I guess I did — kind of. But mum never wants to talk about it," he said sadly, shifting in his chair again.
"Yes, I know," agreed Harry. "The important thing is that our moms were sisters. Aunt Petunia isn't a witch because magic skipped her. But it didn't skip you."
Dudley's mouth fell open in shock, as the meaning of Harry's words washed over him. "Are you saying I'm a — a wizard?"
Harry tried to look sympathetic. "Yes, Dudley. That's what I'm saying. You're a wizard. Your magic is just now showing itself. That's why you've been doing accidental magic without knowing it."
Dudley's face turned white as a sheet. "Now I'm really scared!" he whined. "They'll think I'm a freak!"
Harry knew Dudley was terrified of magic. What he hadn't counted on was how scared Dudley would be that his parents might find out he was a wizard. Uncle Vernon treated people from the magical world like freaks — so he could certainly understand Dudley's fear.
"I want to tell you something," Harry began again. "And I want you to listen very carefully, because it's really important." Dudley looked at him like a drowning man might look at a life preserver. "Your dad thinks magic is bad. But he's wrong. Magic isn't bad or good. It's what people do with it that's bad or good. I know you're scared, Dudley. But that's only because your experiences with magic have been bad ones. Like when Hagrid gave you that pig's tail and I made the glass at the zoo disappear." Dudley shuddered. "But you haven't seen the other side yet, Dudley. There's lots of good things you can do with magic, too!"
"There are?" he asked, surprised.
Harry laughed in spite of himself. "Sure there are! And some of them are a lot of fun! But there's something else you need to know, too. Your dad says witches and wizards are freaks. He's wrong, Dudley! Just because someone is different from you doesn't make them a freak. It just makes them different — that's all. The world is full of different kinds of people. Uncle Vernon never learned that."
"I know," he sighed as he dropped his head and stared at his feet.
"You do?" asked Harry, surprised.
Dudley looked up. "Sure. A couple of years ago, one of my teachers told us about how people live in other countries. She said the same thing you did — they're not wrong, they're just different."
"It's good you understand that," said Harry.
Dudley tried to smile. "Two of my friends at school are from Spain," he said. "They dress different than we do and they both have really long hair. I've never invited them over because I know dad would call them freaks! But they're not freaks, Harry! They're my friends! And they're really nice! But dad would insult them," he complained bitterly.
"Hang on," said Harry suddenly remembering something. "If you understand about being different, why are you so mean to me?"
"I have to be," he confessed, red-faced and ashamed. "If I'm not, dad will think I'm a freak, too! I've wanted to be friends for a long time, Harry. But I knew dad wouldn't allow it. I'm sorry."
Harry wasn't expecting this. He never considered that Dudley might be acting like a bully because he was afraid of losing his father's approval.
"We can still be friends, Dudley?" Harry suggested deviously. "We just won't tell him. What do you think?"
Dudley thought a minute, then nodded approval.
"Are you alright, Dudders?" Harry asked sympathetically.
"I'm not so scared now that I talked to you," he said.
"Well, you can talk to me anytime you want, Dudley. And you can ask me anything you want, too."
Dudley thought hard for a minute, like he was trying to gather his courage. "Can you tell me some of the good things you can do with magic?" he asked.
"Sure," said Harry. "But let's do it tomorrow. I'm really tired!" He stretched and yawned. Then he walked to the door, stuck his head out, and looked up and down the hall. "All clear," he whispered.
Dudley walked past him and through the door. "Good night, Cousin," he said.
"Good night, Cousin," Harry replied. And they went off to bed.
The next day, things seemed normal. Dudley watched his favorite television shows and blew up aliens on his computer. He ignored Harry when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were around. But several times he smiled as he passed Harry in the hallway. Uncle Vernon went to work late that day. After he had gone, Aunt Petunia went to the market and left the boys at home alone. As soon as things settled down, Dudley found Harry studying in his room.
"She'll be gone at least an hour," he said. "Can we talk?"
"Sure," said Harry. "Sit down. What do you wanna talk about?"
Dudley sat at Harry's desk like he'd done the night before. He looked a little uncomfortable. "Dad says your school's for freaks. That's not true, is it?"
"Of course not," Harry said indignantly, rolling his eyes. "That's just Uncle Vernon talking! It's really cool, actually."
The word 'cool' got Dudley's attention. "So, what's it like?"
Harry thought for a minute, trying to decide how to answer. This was one of those opportunities to share his world that Hermione was talking about. But how do you explain Hogwarts to someone who's never been there?
"Well, the school's a big medieval castle," Harry began, "that's over a thousand years old!"
"Really? How big is it?" Dudley asked, thrilled by the idea of an old castle.
"It's huge!" Harry said. "The entrance hall is bigger than our whole house! And the grounds are really big too."
Dudley's face lit up. "Wow! What's the castle like?"
Harry closed his eyes a moment and pictured it. "Well, it's made of stone. There's lots of floors and stairs and towers. The Astronomy tower is the highest one. We study the stars there at night — and the planets. And there are dungeons, too."
Dudley stiffened, and his knees began to shake. "Dungeons? Do they ever put anyone in them?" he asked, frightened.
"Sure," said Harry, smiling. "The students!" Dudley nearly fell off his chair. "Just kidding!" Harry said, laughing. "Seriously, though, Dudders, some of the dungeons are used as classrooms. You know — desks, tables, chairs, blackboards. All the normal stuff."
Dudley breathed a sigh of relief. "What about the grounds?"
They're really big too," said Harry. "There are four greenhouses where they teach Herbology. The black lake and the forbidden forest are on the grounds, too. And Hagrid's cabin, of course —"
"Why's the forest forbidden?" Dudley interrupted.
"There are some dangerous creatures that live in it," Harry said.
"Have you ever been in there?" he asked.
"I went in with Hagrid near the end of my first year. It's not bad if you're with him or Professor Dumbledore. But we're not supposed to go in alone."
"What about sports?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.
"We have quidditch," explained Harry. "Everyone in the magical world follows quidditch. It's the best sport ever! I'm seeker on the Gryffindor team."
"Really?" he said genuinely impressed. "Where do you play?"
"There's a quidditch pitch on campus," said Harry. "It's really huge, too. And the house teams play each other for the quidditch cup."
"Is it hard to learn?" he asked, his eyes glowing now.
"No," said Harry. "It's not hard to learn. But it's hard to play. I'll explain later. We could talk a whole week about quidditch!"
Dudley looked around Harry's bedroom. "So, where do you sleep?"
"You know what the house system is?" Harry asked.
"Sure," he said. "Dad keeps talking about the houses at Smeltings, and how much fun he had when he lived there."
"Well, Hogwarts has four houses," said Harry. "They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I'm in Gryffindor house. We live in Gryffindor tower. The dorm rooms are circular and we sleep in large four-poster beds."
"That sounds really cool!" he said.
"It is," said Harry. "The girls' dorm is on one side of the tower, and ours is on the other. Between them is the common room where we study or just hang out with our friends."
"Where do you eat?" he asked.
Harry was hoping this question would come up, because it took advantage of Dudley's biggest weakness.
"We eat in the Great Hall," Harry explained. "It's a huge room with four long house tables and a staff table at the front. It's really cool, Dudley. There are hundreds of candles that float in mid-air and the ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky outside."
Dudley's eyes were growing wider and wider. "What's the food like?"
"You wouldn't believe it, Dudley. The food Is great! And you'd love the feasts!"
Dudley's mouth fell open and he nearly fell off his chair again. "Feasts?" he exclaimed, his mouth beginning to water.
"Yeah!" said Harry. "Every year we have the start of term feast, the Halloween feast, the Christmas feast, and the end of term feast. There's more food than you've ever seen and it's all delicious! You can eat and eat and eat!"
"Wow!" exclaimed Dudley, his fat double chin trembling in anticipation. "You never told me that!"
"You never asked," said Harry, smiling.
As he watched the excited look on Dudley's face, he had to admit that Hermione was right. Dudley was a lot more interested in the magical world than Harry thought he'd be. Things were going really well and he didn't want to scare Dudley off. So he thought he'd better not mention the giant squid, the ghosts, Peeves, or the talking portraits.
Dudley's daydreams about food didn't last long, though, and his expression of bliss suddenly changed. "What about the classes and teachers?"
"They're alright," said Harry. "But it's still school."
Dudley pulled a face. "You don't have to take Reading do you? I hate Reading,"
"Of course not," said Harry flatly. "It's a school for magic. All the classes are about magic."
"Really?" said Dudley, his face brightening again. "Like what?"
Harry thought a bit before answering. He knew Dudley wouldn't understand half of what he was going to say, but he listed the subjects anyway.
"Well, there's Magical Theory, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, A History of Magic, Herbology, Astronomy, Divination, Muggle Studies. And then there's my favorite, Defense against the Dark Arts. And there's Flying," he added offhandedly.
"Flying?" gasped Dudley, surprised.
"On broomsticks," said Harry, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
Dudley looked amazed. "That sounds dangerous! What if you get hurt?"
"Then they take you to the hospital wing," said Harry, "and Madam Pomfrey heals you with magic. Do you remember when you broke your arm last summer?"
"Yeah!" he said. "It was in a cast for six weeks. I couldn't even use the computer."
"Well," said Harry, "Madam Pomfrey could have healed it in about six seconds. And it would have been just like you never broke it at all."
"Wow!" Dudley exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. "That's amazing!"
Harry smiled broadly. "I told you, Dudley. There's lots of good stuff you can do with magic."
"I wish I could see your school," he said longingly.
"Who knows? Maybe you can," said Harry.
He went on to tell Dudley what some of the classes were about and what the teachers were like. He even talked about some of the things he, Ron, and Hermione did to get in trouble.
Dudley was more interested in hearing about the magical world than Harry ever thought he'd be. But their time was almost up, and they didn't want Aunt Petunia to catch them being friends. So they went their separate ways — Dudley to the television and Harry to his room. Before they split up, however, they made plans to get together, as soon as possible, to talk about quidditch.
Their next opportunity came two days later, when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia attended a dinner party at Vernon's company. Dudley managed to talk his mother into letting them stay home and watch television. This gave them several hours to themselves.
Harry explained the rules of quidditch until Dudley understood the basics. He seemed quite impressed that Harry was Gryffindor seeker — once he understood what the seeker had to do. When Harry showed him his Flying with the Cannons book, Dudley was floored. He'd never seem moving pictures in a book before.
"That's awesome!" he exclaimed. "How do they do it?"
"It's magic," said Harry. "And it's not just this book, Dudders. All pictures move in the magical world."
"Wow!" he said. "Can you show me some more?"
"I thought you were afraid of magic," Harry said.
"Not anymore — well — not like I used to be."
"Alright," said Harry as he pulled out his wand. "I can show you a few things."
Dudley looked apprehensive. "But I thought you weren't supposed to do magic outside school?"
Harry did some quick thinking. "I got into trouble last year because strangers were here. But you're family, Dudley. That doesn't count."
He knew what he told Dudley wasn't completely true. But it was better than having to explain it all right now. It wasn't time yet for Dudley to know everything.
"What can you do?" he asked.
"Well," said Harry, "there's the levitation charm we learned in our first year."
"What's it for?" he asked.
"You use it to make things fly," explained Harry. "See the couch over there? If I wanted to move it to the other side of the room, I could use the levitation charm. Like this!" Harry pointed his wand at the couch and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The couch rose off the floor a few inches. Harry directed it with his wand across the room, where he sat it down again. "See, Dudley?" he said. "If you've got to rearrange the furniture, magic can save you a lot of time — and a sore back!" Dudley laughed. Harry pointed his wand at the couch again. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he said, and he moved the couch back to where it was before.
"What else can you show me?" Dudley asked, eager to see more magic.
"Well," Harry thought aloud, "I guess I could show you the repairing charm or maybe the unlocking charm. Do you have anything that needs fixing?"
"Could you fix my watch?" he asked timidly.
"Maybe. I could try. Do you have anything I could unlock?"
A big smile came across Dudley's face. "Yes!" he remembered. "My money bank. I lost the key a year ago, and I can't get the money out!"
"Why didn't you just break it?" asked Harry. Dudley seemed to break everything else.
"I don't want to break it! I like it!"
"Alright," said Harry. "Let's go up to my room."
The two boys bounded up the stairs — Harry to his room and Dudley to his. In a few minutes, Dudley came into Harry's room carrying a broken watch in one hand and a metal money bank in the other.
"Put them on the desk," Harry said.
Dudley put the two items down in front of Harry who touched the broken watch with his finger.
"What happened to this watch?" he asked curiously.
"I fell and broke it," said Dudley. "I've been hiding it from dad. If he finds out, he'll kill me. It was his when he was my age."
"Not to worry, Dudders," said Harry reassuringly. He pulled out his wand, pointed it at the watch, and said, "Reparo!"
Sparks flew from the end of Harry's wand and struck the watch. The cracks in the crystal began to heal themselves until it was whole again. It looked like a brand new watch.
"That was awesome!" said Dudley, as he picked it up. "Thanks Harry!"
"You're welcome, Dudley," he said. "Now let's see what we can do with this money bank."
Harry placed the bank in front of him, pointed his wand, and said, "Alohamora!" The lock on the bank clicked open. "There you go, Dudders!" he said proudly.
"Cool!" exclaimed Dudley, as he picked up the money bank. "I've been wanting to get this thing open for a year!"
"Glad I could help!" said Harry.
Suddenly, Dudley's expression changed, and he looked thoughtful. "Do you think I could learn to do magic?" he asked.
"Sure you could," said Harry. "l learned those spells in first year."
For a moment, Harry thought about telling Dudley that he had to go to Hogwarts. But he felt like it was still too soon, so he changed the subject.
"Do you know how to play chess, Dudley?"
"I have a chess set," he began. "But I never learned to play."
"I could teach you wizard chess," offered Harry. "Ron loaned me his set for the summer."
"Wizard chess?" he asked.
"It's just like your chess," explained Harry. "Except the pieces move for you."
Dudley was excited. "Would you really teach me?"
"Sure I will! But let's do it tomorrow. Your mum and dad will be home soon."
The two boys went back downstairs and found a movie to watch on the tele. When Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came home, they pretended they'd been watching all evening.
"Alright, you two! Off to bed," ordered Aunt Petunia.
Harry and Dudley pretended to protest, climbed the stairs, and went to their rooms.
"What do you think those two are up to?" grumbled Vernon.
"I don't know," said Petunia. "But at least they're not fighting!"
Harry never had the chance to teach Dudley wizard chess. The next morning, his uncle put him to work as promised. Harry had to cut the grass, weed the flower beds, water and fertilize the flowers, and trim the hedges — all before his uncle got home. It was a very hot day, and Harry sweated profusely, as he went about the back breaking work his uncle had assigned. Dudley watched out of the window, feeling sorry for his cousin. He wanted to help, but if he volunteered, his dad would be extremely angry. Vernon wanted Harry to suffer as much as possible while under his roof.
"Leave Harry alone, now," said Petunia, as she ushered Dudley away from the window. "He has to do his chores," she explained. "I put a big bowl of ice cream on the table for you, sweetums! Why don't you eat it and then you can play on your computer?"
Dudley did as his mother suggested. But seeing Harry slave in the hot sun while he ate ice cream in the air conditioned house made Dudley feel sick. He wouldn't have minded three months ago. But things were different now. He was beginning to actually like his cousin. And he was beginning to see how unfair things were for Harry.
Harry finished his chores with an hour to spare. He was covered in sweat, dirt, and plant fertilizer from head to toe.
"Don't you dare track that dirt all over my nice clean floor!" demanded Aunt Petunia. "And don't sit on anything either! Go upstairs and get cleaned up. Your uncle will be home soon."
He went upstairs and took a hot shower. Then he lay down on his bed to relax until dinner. When Uncle Vernon came home, he said not one word about all the work Harry had done. He ignored Harry completely — which suited Harry just fine. Dudley, however, couldn't help but notice, and it made him feel even worse. Even though he was not used to these feelings of kindness, something inside told him that his father was wrong.
Dinner passed without incident. When Petunia finished the dishes, she joined Vernon in the living room to watch several television programs they usually watched together. Dudley was up in his room blasting aliens on his computer again. Harry decided to crash for the evening. He was so exhausted! After several minutes of silence, Dudley knocked on his door, and Harry let him in.
"What are you doing here, Dudley?"
"I wanted to talk to you," he said, as he sat in the chair at Harry's desk, again. "I'm really sorry about the work today, Harry. I wanted to help. But if I had, dad would have been really mad."
"I understand," said Harry, feeling grateful to Dudley for the first time in his life. "Uncle Vernon wants to punish me — that's all."
"For being a wizard?" he asked.
"That's part of it," said Harry. "I'm sure he has lots of reasons why he doesn't like me. He has lots of reasons why he doesn't like other people, too."
"Well, it's not fair!" said Dudley angrily. "Dad's just being mean."
"I appreciate that, Dudders," said Harry. "But there's nothing you can do about it, so don't worry. I'll be alright."
They could hear Harry's aunt and uncle talking over the television downstairs. Harry looked at Dudley and decided the time had come to tell him everything.
"I want to ask you something, Dudley?" he said. "If I could arrange it so that you could go to Hogwarts and learn magic, would you like to go?"
"Sure!" he said. "But mum and dad would never let me."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Dudley. Professor Dumbledore could talk to them. Get them to let you go."
"No!" he exclaimed, terrified. "They'll think I'm a freak!"
"No they won't!" Harry assured him. "Dumbledore has to deal with muggle parents all the time."
"But my mum and dad —" he began again. Harry cut him off.
"Listen, Dudley," he said, as seriously as he could. "You have to go to Hogwarts. You have to learn magic."
Dudley was taken completely by surprise. "What? But why?" he stammered.
"You're doing accidental magic, Dudley, because you don't know how to control it. Right now your magic is really weak because it just started. But as you get older, your magic will get stronger. It's dangerous to have magic when you can't control it."
"I don't understand," he whined.
"Have you ever seen the superman movies?" Harry asked.
"Sure," he said, looking curious.
"What do you think would happen if superman couldn't control his strength? He'd probably tear doors off their hinges just trying to open them. And he'd be dangerous to everyone around him."
"I guess he would," Dudley agreed.
"Well, that's what it would be like to be a wizard who didn't have any magical training. You couldn't control your magic, and you might hurt yourself or the people around you." Dudley thought this one over. "There really isn't any choice, Dudley. You have to go to Hogwarts and learn magic."
"But what are mum and dad going to say, Harry?" he asked, still frightened.
"Tell you what, Dudley. I'll write to Professor Dumbledore and explain everything. He'll take care of the rest. But if I know Dumbledore, you'll be going to school with me in September. Is that alright?"
"I guess so . . ." he said, "if we can trust him. I'd really like to learn magic. It's just my dad . . ."
"Don't worry about your father, Dudley! Dumbledore will make him understand. Now I'll see you in the morning."
Dudley left looking downtrodden. Harry got out a piece of parchment, ink, and a quill, and began to compose a letter to Dumbledore.
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
Dudley knows he's a wizard now. I explained it all to him, and he understands about accidental magic. He is more interested in the magical world than I thought he'd be. We talked about Hogwarts, and he asked a lot of questions. I even showed him some spells we learned in first year. Dudley wants to come to Hogwarts and study magic, but he's afraid of his father and mother finding out he's a wizard. I think it's time someone talked with them. Please be careful because I don't want Dudley to get hurt. Professor McGonagall was right. He's really nice. He was only being mean to me because that is what his father expected. I promised him we would not do anything to make his situation worse. Let me know if there is anything else I need to do. Have a wonderful summer!
Sincerely, Harry
Harry read the letter over and folded it into an envelope. Then he called Hedwig. She landed on his desk and gave him an affectionate nip on the finger.
"Hedwig, please take this letter to Dumbledore," he told her, giving her a soft stroke on the top of the head with his finger.
Hedwig slowly closed her eyes and opened them again, acknowledging that she understood.
"Thanks, Hedwig. Now, off you go!"
Hedwig flew out the window and was gone. Harry lay down on his bed thinking about what he promised Dudley and wondering if he had done the right thing.