Chapter 3: Chapter 3
A note: Dudley has done a sharp u-turn, yes, and he had a Jekyll and Hyde thing going on, he's been drummed with "Harry's just Harry", but he's beating the voice. He's had a few months to practice.
Chapter 3: Calling all the monsters
Daphne had no idea why she'd just done that. She'd just jumped Potter! And she had no tact at the moment, saying she'd do anything to save the saviour of the wizarding world, completely forgetting that he wasn't an 'it' but a human being! She should've saved him because he was him, not because he was to save them all.
This place was so utterly bizarre. She was here barely a day and Potter already committing suicide, or attempting to, and she couldn't figure out why.
Potter had been admittedly harsh, calling her a 'prostitute', at least he hadn't been vulgar and called her a downright slut. That was something at least.
Why would Potter want to kill himself? What was so bad that he couldn't face the world anymore? Potter was the redefinition of Gryffindor, bravery galore, yet he chose to quit and run away? Idiot. Now she had to take care of him too. Why not just Avada himself?
This wasn't normal. And normality wasn't exactly popular in the wizarding world.
It was morning, Potter was asleep again. She'd thrown the pills down the drain, hoping with all her might it would answer the problem, and cleaned the tea and the broken teacup up. Of course it didn't flushing the pills wouldn't be the answer, it wasn't that simple. She knew that sleeping pills were a muggle thing to help them sleep, but she also knew too much of it could cause the heart to stop.
Suicidal people always got some sort of therapy, or that was what Daphne thought, and she knew Potter wouldn't be okay with that. He wouldn't want anyone to know… or at least that was how she saw it. She wouldn't want anyone to know.
Glancing at the sleeping boy, she sighed, what could've made him so utterly miserable? She hadn't slept at all. She'd been keeping an eye on him. She was admittedly exhausted, but she could get over that, Harry needed help.
. . .
Daphne tapped her fingers on the Dursleys' kitchen table, impatient. She was used to a certain way of things, and those things included her breakfast being ready when she woke up (not that she had been sleeping, but she wouldn't tell her host that.
The house elves loved her, she knew, because she was kind to them. They were always kind to her, she simply returned the favour.
Potter slapped a wooden spoon on her hands. "You can make your own damn breakfast if you're going to be demanding about it!" He snapped at her. He was still moody, then.
"I'm the guest in this scene, aren't I, Potter?" She knew she was pushing hm. When he'd woken up, they didn't say anything about the exchange, but got dressed hurriedly and raced to the kitchen.
It was empty, but that might be because it was really early. It also gave her an opportunity to look at the house; she hadn't taken it in the previous day. She liked to look at people's houses, it said a lot about them.
The first thing she noticed was that the house was freakishly clean – making the lady of the house very obsessed with keeping everything neat. The rooms were all painted peach, and Daphne found herself wondering if that was all the woman could see, seeing as she'd been wearing a peach dress with a silly little apron the previous day. When Daphne looked at the series of photographs in the house, she didn't find Harry anywhere. She found Dudley ( a lot of times, and with his pudgy face as a small child, he looked like a little pig with blonde locks cropped short), she saw Petunia and Vernon a few times, and even a woman that resembled Vernon lot with two dogs, and the dogs alone had their own frame, several of Dudley's school achievements… but no Harry.
She knew they weren't fans of him now. It was rather sad, too, she thought, and her heart went out to him.
He went to the fridge and got out a carton of eggs, and then he looked at the wooden spoon in his hand and set it down slowly, as if he was afraid it might bite. Once in front of the stove, he glanced at her over his shoulder. He would ask any moment now.
"Daphne?" Harry ventured, turning back to her as the oil started to heat up. She looked up lazily, contrasting with her heart hammering in her chest.
"Why did you do it?" He asked with his voice unnaturally small.
What a funny turn of events, she was supposed to be the one asking that question.
"We discussed this last night," She pointed out, "I don't want this world to go into chaos."
"So, as long as I save all of your sorry asses, it's fine?" He asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow, "That is some twisted logic."
She rolled her eyes at him, "Potter, you're a hero, kids look up to you for mentoring and adults are envious of your leadership skills, you can easily beat Dumbledore where followers is concerned. Even half of my house is willing to follow if you just ask – you can save this world from Voldemort by simply speaking, and that's what makes you such a dangerous enemy."
He gaped at her before swallowing, "Again, as long as I save your asses?" He repeated. He didn't seem to like that idea.
"Potter – you took me in when I had no home. Of course I'd stop you." She sighed. She had no idea how to handle this, which was a first for her. She didn't know why she just apologised, that might be better than what she doing now.
She was met with silence. Soon she smelled something burning.
"Potter, the eggs!" She shouted just as the pan exploded. She had no idea how it happened, nor did she care at that moment, because Potter had been thrown back.
A while later and Harry was being bandaged up at the local muggle hospital, he'd burnt his left arm badly when the pan exploded. Daphne had broken out in a full panic attack, causing Dudley to arrive on the scene with haste. He'd loaded his screaming cousin over his shoulders and went to the neighbour, who took the trio to the nearest hospital. He said his dad was at work and his mother at a friend's.
Daphne waited next to a quiet Dudley in the muggle hospital. It surprised her how much like St. Mungo's it looked. It had the same clean smell, and the floor was so clean and shiny that you could see your reflection in it. It was so new to her. She mentioned to Dudley that they could take Harry to St. Mungo's, but Dudley didn't look keen on that.
She didn't try to strike up a conversation with him either, he looked as though he was deep in thought.
…
Dudley waited, seemingly having an internal conversation.
He's just Harry – why should you care?
He's my cousin.
So? He's just Harry.
That's what my parents always say.
And it's true.
No, it's not. He saved me.
And since when do you think for yourself?
Since I tried to kill myself!
And suddenly you're Harry's best friend? What on earth is the matter with you?
I'm not his best friend! I'm trying to change for the better, because who I was, was an annoying idiot with no inhibitions or restrictions! I was always the favourite, always got the best, while he had to live of nothing more than my hand-me-downs. I never complained, because, in all honesty, who would complain if they got the most expensive things and the most attention? I just never realized that Harry was a person too, he was someone with feelings, and I realized when I was brutally raped by that madman! When a bully became the bullied.
And what will dear Harry think, Dudley? Won't he find it suspicious, this 360 spin you've made, being friendly, caring…
I don't care what he thinks. He was my first victim, and I want to make things right. I was a fucking bastard, and it's awful that it took... what happened to open my eyes.
The other voice had no answer.
Suddenly Harry being equally friendly towards him made sense, didn't it?
Harry was acting entirely out of character those last few days, including smiling at Petunia, which was something not many people did.
Maybe acting happy would make it go away. He'd found the pills under the sink a few days ago, but hadn't figured out what they meant until he spotted Daphne flush them down the toilet. He'd been on the way to bed when he saw it. She had turned to look at him, and tried to hide what she'd been doing.
He was certain his cousin had tried to kill himself, and she'd been there to stop it. He had no idea where she came from, but he was grateful to her. And even though he found her astoundingly pretty, he wouldn't make a move on her. This was Harry's friend/
The guilt would've eaten him up alive if Harry had actually succeeded. And that was purely selfish on Dudley's part.
He'd changed a lot in the past year. Or past six months, rather, after it happened. It was an unbelievable turn of events, he couldn't believe it when someone came to him, pushed him up against a wall and had his way with him. It was even more shocking when it happened a second time.
The culprit started to target him some more, in classes, in the hallways of the school… welcome to the life of boarding school.
Welcome to hell.
. . .
Harry was finally bandaged up. Dudley and Harry talked for a little while in the park, with Daphne getting the three of them lunch after Harry had explained muggle money to her. Dudley explained how he was conflicted, how he was struggling with his thoughts…
Finally Dudley couldn't keep it in anymore, "Harry… did you try to… to kill yourself?"
"Did Daphne tell you?" Harry asked immediately, unimpressed.
"No, I found the meds," Dudley explained; Harry sagged, his body pulling into itself as fear overruled, Dudley didn't need any more confirmation, "Why?"
"Why do you care, Dudley?" Harry asked defensively. This was the Harry Dudley knew.
"Because you're my cousin." Dudley answered simply. He knew it didn't make up for his attitude or his actions, and even if he had apologised to Harry before, he did it again, because Harry was at a dangerously dark place.
"That's never stopped you before." Harry pointed out. Dudley growled at his inner voice, it had a point when it said Harry would be suspicious.
"Because I was a moron who blindly believed what his parents said!" Dudley blew up. Harry couldn't help but see the irony, Purebloods weren't the only ones with that problem, it seemed.
"I'm not going to trust you, just 'cause you suddenly have a mind of your own." Harry sneered. His arm was in a sling, and it looked as though it was annoying him severely.
"And that's fine, but you didn't answer my question, Harry, why did you do it?" Dudley sent the direction back to its original topic, not wanting Harry to be able to escape.
"Dudley, I just said I didn't trust you, why would I tell you?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Because I've been there," Dudley decided to open up about it, "because I couldn't handle being bullied and mocked, I tried to slit my wrists."
"What?" Harry spluttered.
"Yes, I tried to slit my wrists. But my friends – before you ask, yes I have those – found me, and helped me over it, and when I go back to school I'm not going to take anything anymore, I'm Big D, after all."
Harry stared at Dudley. Who knew the starving buffalo had enough emotions and feelings to go to drastic measures?
"I'm tired." Harry said finally.
"No, Harry, you're not going to get out of this..."
"I meant I'm tired of being used," Harry corrected himself, sitting down on a nearby bench, motioning for Dudley to join him, "I'm the saviour of the Wizarding world, Dudley, they're all counting on me to win."
"Harry, you're just a kid," Dudley said, awed. Did anyone really expect a sixteen year old to wage a war on his own? He wasn't old enough, and yet, Dudley knew, Harry had been through so much, and he hadn't even tried to be there for him.
"I know! Let me say this, I've come face to face with my parents' murderer three times now, and I can't do anything to him!" Harry burst out, "When I was eleven, I killed a man simply by touching him – he broke apart as I touched him, he turned to ash! How was I supposed to cope normally after killing a man?" Harry's eyes were wide open and crazed, and Dudley wanted to calm him down desperately; Harry's accidental magic had just caused a pan to explode, he didn't need that again.
"Didn't they prosecute you?" Dudley couldn't help but ask, causing Harry to laugh bitterly.
"They didn't believe it! They thought his possession by Voldemort overwhelmed him and his body so much that he just burst into flames." Harry said sourly, still irked at the fact that he hadn't gotten at least counselling for that incident, but no, he was Harry Potter expected to perform extraordinary feats as if they were everyday happenings.
"Oh, that's more believable, isn't it?" Dudley said sarcastically. He couldn't believe it: Harry had killed someone when he was eleven! How was that even possible? At least he knew who Voldemort was.
"That's not even half of it! When I was twelve, I heard voices, or a voice, saying it smelled blood and wanted to kill." Harry went on. He had no idea why he was opening up to Dudley, maybe he just really wanted to vent, because now that he had started, he wasn't anywhere near stopping.
"Vampires?" Dudley guessed, causing his cousin to laugh. Harry would've preferred a vampire to what he had experienced.
"No, not exactly, a giant snake that killed anyone who wasn't a pureblood or a half-blood." Harry said. Dudley at knew what those terms meant, even if he'd never used them with his parents. He knew his Aunt Lily used to be what Harry would call a muggleborn, and Harry was a half-blood. His mother had once mentioned it, and forbade him to speak of it again.
"Go on." Dudley said.
"Well, in that year, people thought I was evil and the possible reincarnation of Hitler and Voldemort," Harry said, "I can talk to snakes and they can talk to me... Remember that boa I set on you the summer before I went to Hogwarts?"
Dudley grimaced, "Vividly." He still had nightmare about it.
"Well, I told a snake not to attack a classmate, and it listened..." Harry trailed off.
"Awesome!" Dudley said dreamily, wondering what it'd be like to have those powers, his classmates would think twice before messing with him, he could set a python on them! Or maybe that massive anaconda from his favourite movie...
"No, Dudley, it wasn't. They turned on me for no reason but I could talk to snakes. Even my friends almost did – yes, Dudley, I have those too." He added, suppressing a smile. Dudley liked this Harry way more.
"So you can talk to snakes?" Dudley tried to get the discussion back on topic.
"Yeah – and the giant one I told you about? They're called basilisks, and just looking them in the eye can kill you." Harry lowered his voice to a whisper at the last sentence dramatically.
Dudley blanched, "I thought basilisks were half-chicken, half-snake beings, or at least that's what I read somewhere." He had taken out a book on strange creatures over the world, or that's what he'd thought, but it was actually a book on mythical creatures.
"You can read?"
Dudley glowered at Harry for that, "That was unnecessary."
"Just getting my two knuts in." Harry held up his hands in defence.
"Potter, your nuts aren't coming anywhere near me." Dudley said quickly, causing Harry to burst into laughter. He laughed for two minutes without much breathing, he laughed so much that his eyes started to tear – Dudley didn't get the joke.
"Knuts are money, genius! Our money!" Harry said between laughs.
Dudley's face became Harry's favourite shade of red, causing Harry to laugh even more.
"Go on with the story!" Dudley urged, wanting to forget his embarrassing display.
"Fine, well, I saved my friends' sister from a young Voldemort, almost died down there, that damn snake had bitten me! If it hadn't been for Fawkes crying on me, I would've died!" Harry said it all quickly with a smile on his face, because Dudley being afraid of his nuts was still one of the funniest things he'd ever heard.
"Fawkes?" Dudley frowned. He briefly wondered if it was Guy Fawkes, but he had no idea how he would get into Hogwarts and why he would cry on Harry.
"Dumbledore's bird." Harry said shortly.
"Dumbledore?" Dudley sounded confused. He knew he'd heard the name before; he just couldn't put his finger on it.
"Hogwarts' headmaster, Fawkes is a phoenix, phoenix tears have healing powers and don't you dare ask me what Hogwarts is." Harry snapped, irate.
"Oh… well, did you at least get counselling for that?" Dudley asked. He actually was concerned for his cousin, despite years of "Harry is just Harry" that had been beaten into him, figuratively speaking. He didn't understand it. He was also a lot more sociable.
What had happened to him no one deserved, but, in a way, Dudley was grateful, if it hadn't happened, he would still be dumb, illiterate and moronic. He didn't like who he used to be. It was a cruel happening, but nothing compared to what Harry had gone through.
"No, I didn't, and I keep asking myself 'why?'," Harry said, "Okay, then, when I was thirteen, I think you remember me blowing up Aunt Marge and Sirius Black?"
"That was hilarious once I figured out what was going on, and he's your serial killer godfather, isn't he?" Dudley asked, having no better way of putting it. He knew he needed a lesson in tact, because Harry flinched when said that.
"Yes, he was." Harry looked at his shoes. Dudley saw that it was his old shoes, and decided to talk to his mother about getting Harry his own clothes instead of hand-me-downs.
"Was?" He asked, dragging his attention away from Harry's improper wardrobe.
"More on that later. My parents had three friends at school, Sirius, Remus and Peter. But, as it turned out, Peter betrayed them. I saw him. I could've killed him. But I didn't. Remus transformed first. He's a werewolf, in case you were wondering. Peter got away. That year was the first year I battled dementors." Harry sighed, this was getting long-winded. Dudley shuddered. Those things were his biggest fear.
"We didn't get to clear Sirius' name. He wasn't the serial killer you all thought he was, that was Peter." Harry inclined his head, looking over to the fast-food branch where Daphne was still waiting. She was now second in line. She had volunteered to get them the meal, mostly due to the bright colours and the mascot that fascinated her.
"This is messed up. And you must be equally messed up." Dudley said, he never wished to see those demon-like creatures again.
"That's not where it ended. Fourth year I was entered into a deadly tournament, against my will by an evil man, it included the wizarding turning their backs on me again, even my best friend did. It was only after I battled a dragon that he came to his senses. After that, the tournament stole both my best friends, and I had to go find them at the bottom of a lake filled with creatures that were against me. The third task I had to go through a maze with another cacophony of evil creatures. The other champion and I both won… only not in the traditional manner. We ended up in a graveyard – don't ask how – where Voldemort was being resurrected. He killed Cedric." Harry looked down, biting his lip. That was still a terrible memory. He still got nightmares, but he didn't dare tell anyone.
Dudley was horrified. He'd mocked Harry for it. He wished he'd known. If he could, he wouldn't have made Harry's life hell with that.
"Harry, I am so sorry," Dudley said sincerely, "I didn't know. I'm really sorry…"
Harry put a hand on Dudley's shoulder, "It's fine, Dudley, you didn't know."
"Still, I was such an idiot…" Dudley closed his eyes – he was such an idiot, wasn't he?
"Yes, you were." Harry agreed.
"I'm sorry." Dudley said again, causing the black-haired boy to roll his eyes annoyed.
"If you apologise again, I'm going to leave." Harry threatened.
"Okay, okay, go on." Dudley sobered up.
"Then, last year, they all turned on me again. Safe for a handful, this time Ron stayed. He fought for me. Everyone thought I was insane for saying Voldemort was back, they even sent in a mad witch who made me carve this," Harry lifted his hand where the words 'I must not tell lies' glinted in the low light, "not literally, she used a magical method. She's also the one that sent those dementors our way last summer."
"Is that legal in your world? The carving thing, and I really hate her now, those things were awful." Dudley looked a tiny bit green at the memory.
"Dudley, it's not legal in any world, the carving or sending out those dementors," Harry pointed out; Dudley shrugged – he didn't know, "last year I was plagued with dreams, nightmares. Seems I have a connection of sorts with Voldemort," Harry motioned to his scar, "and he manipulated me into going into the Ministry of Magic to save Sirius, who he made me believe he'd captured. Dudley, Sirius was something I never had: a father and a brother, he was the only family I had left! I couldn't leave him!" Harry's voice was panicked. Dudley put a tentative hand on Harry's elbow, which, surprisingly, made Harry breathe easier.
"I'm here now. Even if mum and dad aren't, I am." Dudley said lowly.
"He died," Harry croaked, "He died that night. And it was my fault."
Dudley could see why Harry was suicidal. He never got any counselling or even a book on how to handle what had happened to him. Harry was completely messed up, and it was surprising he hadn't cracked sooner. Dudley knew he'd go insane if someone messed with his parents. They weren't perfect, and the way they treated Harry wasn't what he preferred, but he still loved them.
"And Daphne? Where does she come into the picture?" He asked, attempting to change the topic.
"I have no idea. She's from the rival house, Slytherin, and came here with a white flag," Harry shrugged, "I wasn't about to turn her away."
"Harry, I want you to promise me something," Dudley said suddenly, causing Harry to look up, "Whenever you feel down or just like talking, call me, or send me a letter with your owl, okay? I'm going to make it up to you, everything I've done and haven't done. Will you promise me?"
Harry stared at Dudley. He hadn't even told him about Dumbledore ignoring him, or Snape's hellish Occlumency lessons, or the DA…
But something made Harry nod, saying: "I promise."
. . .
When the trio got home, Petunia was furious, her hands one her hips.
"What have you done to my kitchen? Do you know how long it took me to clean it? And where you have you been? Dudley, why are you with him? He hasn't tried anything on you, has he?" She ran to her son, smoothing down his hair. Dudley gently pushed her away.
"I took him to the hospital, mum, he burned his arm." He motioned to Harry's bandaged arm. Harry fixated a pair of steely eyes on his aunt, daring her to say anything insulting.
She sniffed indignantly, "I don't see why, he's just Harry."
"Mum, with all due respect, I love you and you know that, but Harry's a person, so kindly shut up about him unless you want me to leave." Dudley said it all with a smile, a smile that unnerved his mother.
Harry and Petunia both openly stared at him. Harry wondering if Dudley's awakening had really been that hard, and Petunia wondering what the heck Harry had done to him, she knew there were some mind-controlling thing Lily once told her about, but she also knew about the Trace. She'd only forgotten about it until the previous summer.
"Dad home yet?" Dudley asked, walking past his mother. Harry and Daphne followed, ducking their heads to avoid looking at Petunia, who looked as though she was a cat and someone just took her cream away.
"You know he works until five." She answered brusquely.
Daphne was a complete outsider in the situation, but she knew what Dudley had done must've been big, seeing as two people had been staring at him.
The woman's exclamation of Harry just being Harry took her by surprise, he was Harry bloody Potter, the boy who lived, a legend that survived against the odds, he was a hero… why couldn't this woman see that? Daphne recalled the lack of photographs (that didn't move…) of him, and wondered if this was what Harry had grown up in.
Why couldn't everyone see what he was? It was awful, the wizarding world turned its back on Harry at every second turn, it had happened thrice now, and she could see why he would get tired of it.
As she said to Potter earlier, half of Slytherin would follow if he just asked. She didn't get why he'd never asked. The Slytherins weren't as bad as everyone thought. They just kept to themselves, they didn't shower Potter in attention like the other did. If anything, they knew what it was like to be bombarded with attention, and they found it awkward, so they held back.
Only Draco and Blaise enjoyed attention. And she meant that with the greatest respect. She loved both of them to bits.
Harry excused himself, skulking to his room. Dudley invited Daphne to dinner, she didn't know to accept or decline. On one side, she was hungry, on the other side, this would be an awkward dinner.
. . .
The meal was, as she'd predicted, stiff. Mr Dursley was at work, and Mrs Dursley wasn't nearly as accepting of Daphne's abilities as Dudley was. He'd tried, quite a few times, to start a conversation, but it always died into a thick silence.
"What's wrong with him?" Mrs Dursley asked her son near the end of the meal. Daphne didn't look up sharply, like she wanted to, but kept her head bowed over her current forkful.
"He's sad, mum," Dudley answered, "really sad. She knows why." He pointed his fork at Daphne, who jumped away from it. Did she know? All she knew was of Sirius Black's recent death and the return of Voldemort. Maybe that's why he'd done it? Because Sirius Black was his godfather and, as she understood, the two were quite close.
"Careful where you poke that thing!" Daphne scowled. Dudley laughed and apologised, drawing his fork back.
"Well?" Mrs Dursley looked at her. She shrugged, setting her cutlery down. "What's wrong with him?"
"I don't feel like you care enough for me to enlighten you." It was out before Daphne could stop herself. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, but she beat it down and met Mrs Dursley's eyes steadily. "You obviously think he's a waste of space."
"I do not think he's a waste of space!" Dudley defended himself.
"Not you, your mother. Now, ma'am, I am a pureblood, and considering Lily Potter's lineage, I assume you know what that is. I was born and raised to be the perfect wife for a pureblood husband. I know a waste of space when I see one, and, trust me on this, Harry Potter is not a waste of space." She had no idea why she'd felt compelled to mention her blood status, but it seemed to have gotten her point across.
Mrs. Dursley smirked – and Daphne saw Dudley stare, obviously it was an alien expression.
"I also know that most purebloods are incest-ridden, seeing as you can't marry others, and there are so few purebloods left." Petunia said, and it looked as if this kitty had just gotten her cream back.
Both Daphne and Dudley gasped, Dudley out of disbelief and Daphne out of insult torn. She was up from her seat, her wand aloft and trained at the older woman.
"I could do it," Daphne threatened, "I'm 17, I don't have the Trace on me anymore."
"But you don't know how, do you?" Mrs Dursley said, calling on what she thought was a bluff.
"Oh, I know full well how to cast an array of torture curses, ma'am, I won't necessarily kill you." Daphne said through clenched teeth. Petunia's face became a shade lighter. Daphne pulled her face into a maniacal smile that made Petunia gulp.
"Please, Daphne," Dudley said, standing up and swatting her wand down, "Mum's bark is worse than her bite."
Daphne reluctantly lowered her wand, but she kept looking at Mrs Dursley as if she expected the stoic woman would attack her.
She sat down, but glared continuously at Mrs. Dursley, who didn't seem phased at all.
She knew she didn't like the woman but she quite liked Dudley, and at that moment she decided, against everything her father had taught her, to annoy the woman at every chance she got.
. . .
