Dudley walked down the street, hands thrust into the pocket of his Adidas tracksuit bottoms. He was with his old gang—Piers Polkiss, Dennis, Gordon and Malcolm. Malcolm was singing a rude song, making Dennis and Gordon laugh. Piers had a stone in his hand and was waiting for a passing dog, child or car to throw it at.

Dudley was in a bad mood. He usually enjoyed the summer holidays—not as much as Hogwarts, but it was usually fun to cause trouble with his old friends again. Now, however, things felt different. He had forced a laugh when they had egged One-Armed Neil's house and joined in half-heartedly when they laughed at Two-Ton Tammy when she passed by on her mobility scooter. But it all felt so … empty.

"Hey, Big D—look," Malcolm said, pointing.

It was Graham Pilkington—a local boy who Dudley had beaten up a few times in the past and had even thrown in the pond once.

"Let's give him a welcome-home-for-the-summer beating!" Dennis guffawed.

Piers—the runtiest of the group and always keen to show off—drew back his hand to throw the stone at Graham.

Dudley reached out and grabbed it, stopping him.

"Get off …. What's the big idea, Dud?" Piers said, wriggling out of Dudley's grip.

"You want us to just use fists instead?" Gordon said, rolling up his sleeves. After Dudley, he was the biggest of the group.

"No!" Dudley snapped. "Just … leave him alone, he's not worth it."

"Are you alright, Big D?" Dennis asked.

"Yeah," Malcolm said. "You're usually the first to want to beat people up. What's up with you?"

"Gone soft at that fancy school your folks sent you too?" Piers sneered. He had always had a mouth that was five seconds ahead of his brain.

"Watch it, Piers" Dudley warned. "Come on, let's go and play football instead."

"One shot at him," Pier said, picking the stone up again. "Bet you a quid I can bounce it off his head!"

"I said leave him!" Dudley pushed Piers in the back, knocking him to the floor.

The shorter boy shot up, eyes blazing and fists raised. "What's your problem Dudley?" he demanded.

Dudley laughed shortly. "You really want to fight me?"

"Drop it, Piers," Dennis said in a low voice.

Malcolm and Gordon were look eager, expecting to see a fight.

Piers lowered his fists but still looked angry. "What's with you, Dudley? You've been in a mood ever since you came back from that school of yours."

"None of your business," Dudley growled. "Are we going to the park or not?"

"Yeah, come on—I've got a new football we can use," Gordon said.

Piers, however, didn't move. "No, I want to know why you've become so soft all of a sudden. Last year, you'd have have been the first to give that geek a pounding. Now, you're scared of him."

Dudley balled his fists. Piers was really asking for it.

"Come on, Piers—leave it, let's just go," Dennis urged.

"We can go, he's not coming," Dudley decided. He had had just about enough of Piers for today. "You always were a mouthy little git. Wish I'd seen it before."

Piers flew at him, his fists flying. Dudley stepped back, grabbed Piers arm and twisted, throwing him to the floor.

"You really want to do this?" Dudley shouted, raising his fist to hit the smaller boy.

"Come on, Dud, leave him," Dennis said. Dennis had always been friendly with Piers.

"Forget this, I'm going home," Dudley decided. He stood up, leaving Piers where he was. Gordon and Malcolm hurried to join him, Dennis stayed with Piers.

"What's wrong with you, Dud?" Gordon asked, after a short while.

"Nothing," Dudley said. "I just don't feel like going around beating people up any more, ok."

Gordon and Malcolm exchanged a look but didn't argue.

Later that evening, Dudley ate his food in a moody silence. Vernon was having his usual dinner-time moan. The subject today was beggars.

"Standing outside my business, asking if they can borrow a pound," he said. "Borrow a pound! As if they planned to return it to me a week later! I told him to get off his arse and get a proper job."

"Quite right, dear," Petunia said, eating a piece of broccoli.

Dudley looked at his dad, remembering the boggart from last year.

"You've always been nothing but a disappointment!" the boggart had said.

"Dad." Dudley said, pushing his half-eaten meal aside. "Are you glad I'm a wizard? You're not disappointed I didn't go to Smelting's."

Vernon and Petunia looked at each other.

"Course I'm glad," Vernon said. "It'll be good to have a wizard in the family. Bet you're the best in your year."

"But you used to hate stuff like that—even when the Great Humberto was on the tele, you said he was hogwash."

"Yeah, but that was before we realized you were one, Dud," Vernon said. "And I'm sure you're doing great, right Petunia."

"Yes, I am sure you will make a fine wizard, popkin," Petunia said after a few seconds pause.

Dudley felt a little better. He was glad that the boggart for of Vernon calling him a disappointment had turned out to be unfounded.