A/N: Sorry for the delay! I had a bad case of writer's block. This is a two-for-one though: I've updated 'Little Gidding' as well. Go see! Disclaimer from chapter one still applies. Stay tuned for further notes and individual responses to reviews.
"Go 'way!" Dudley answered in response to the soft knock on his bedroom door. His voice was muffled by the pillow in which his face was buried. It was past noon, but he was still in his pajamas, having spent most of the morning dozing and feeling sorry for himself. The floor of his room was littered with used tissues.
"Oh, that's nice," came Harry's voice from the other side of the door, "After I've gone to all this trouble to bring you lunch…"
Dudley perked up a little in spite of himself. He was hungry. Then again, any lunch he was allowed to eat couldn't be all that appetizing. "Of what? Green salad and cottage cheese?"
"You'll never know unless you open the door." Harry sounded annoyed.
Dudley hesitated, torn.
"Fine. I don't know what I was thinking, anyway." Footsteps moved away from the door.
Dudley jumped up, "No, wait! Harry?" He opened his bedroom door. Harry was halfway across the hall, heading for his own bedroom with a tray in his hands. He paused and turned bright green eyes on Dudley, a knowing smirk dancing on his lips. "You're going to have to come out of your room to get it now. I fixed something for us both. I'll be eating in *my* room."
"What *is* it?" Dudley whined.
"Food. Go get dressed, or I won't let you in." The smaller boy vanished into his own room, closing and locking the door behind him.
Dudley rushed after him and turned the doorknob futilely. From inside the room, Harry laughed. His cousin drew back a step to kick the door angrily, then thought better of it. He'd already chased his mother away, and his father was still furious at him. Better not to alienate everyone in the house. Dudley shuffled back to his room and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, then washed his face in his bathroom and returned to the door of Harry's room. This time it opened when he tried the knob.
"About time," Harry said from the floor, his mouth full, "The soup's getting cold."
Two identical trays were set neatly on the floor. Each had a glass, a mug, and two plates. The portions of food thereon were smaller than Dudley would ideally have liked, but the food itself looked more interesting than he'd expected. "What is it?"
"There's tomato soup," Harry pointed to the mug, "It's just canned, but it'll do. This is chicken salad…" he pointed to the larger plate. "I made it out of the chicken breasts Aunt Petunia baked for dinner last night. And this is half a baked apple. There's cinnamon on it, a little oatmeal, and a tiny bit of sugar."
"Can I eat this stuff?" Dudley sat down, eyeing the repast with hungry eyes.
"I checked the papers the doctors gave you. I mean, really read them. This is all fine. You're allowed up to seventy-five grams of carbohydrates for every meal."
"What?" Dudley stared at him blankly.
"Did you pick up on anything the doctor told you?"
"Um…if I eat the wrong thing, my blood sugar goes up. If it stays up too high for too long, I could go blind or have heart problems or kidney problems, or lose feeling in my hands and feet."
"Do you know why your blood sugar goes up?" Harry drained his own soup mug, eyeing his cousin blandly.
"Because of sweets?"
Harry sighed, "Now I know how Hermione feels…"
"Who's Hermione?"
"Nevermind. Look, it's like this, as far as I can tell from the pamphlets I read: Carbohydrates are in foods like fruit and bread and potatoes and sweets. When you eat something with carbohydrates, your body converts the carbohydrates to glucose, which you then use for energy. You with me so far?"
"I think so. Go on." Dudley picked up his soup mug and sipped at it tentatively, then more hungrily.
"Right. Well, there's this chemical called insulin that's in your body--I'm not awfully clear on that bit, but I think it said it comes from your pancreas--"
"Whatever that is."
Harry snorted. "Anyway, you need the insulin to…to sort of let the glucose be absorbed into your muscles and things. But if you have diabetes, either you don't make enough insulin, or your body doesn't use it quite right somehow, so the glucose just stays there. And that's what's not good for you, because it can damage your nerves and eyes and heart. All right?"
"Umm…carbohydrates make glucose. Glucose and insulin make energy. Without insulin to break it up, glucose can hurt you. So I can't have anything with carbohydrates in it??" His eyes widened. This was worse than he thought. He had expected to just have to avoid sugary things. Would he have to do without bread now, too?
"No, no, you have to have *some* carbohydrates. You just can't have too many. Like what you've got here: there's 22 grams in the soup, and then there's another 15 in the apple. More like 20 with the sugar and the oatmeal. And I've given you milk to drink, so that's another 15."
Dudley looked at him blankly. He had always had trouble with numbers.
"Nevermind," Harry sighed. "You should read the papers the doctor gave you; they explain it all. And don't get used to me making lunch for you. I just thought you should come out of your room, that's all."
"But…what you're really saying is I don't have to eat nothing but grapefruit and salad and things? I can have meat and--"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes. You need to have meat and things, actually, because the protein--" He stopped as Dudley's eyes began to glaze with confusion again. "Nevermind. What it comes down to is you have to have a little of everything, but not too much of any one thing. And you will have to keep eating vegetables, and grapefruit, just not *nothing but* vegetables and grapefruit."
Dudley took a couple bites of chicken salad, considering this. It wasn't exactly good news, but it sounded as though from now on he'd be eating better than he had been. "I think I like you better as a dietician than the nurse at Smeltings," he told Harry after a moment.
Harry snorted again, but looked amused. "Well, like I said, don't get too used to it. I've spent half my life cooking for you. I've enjoyed not having to do it the past couple summers."
"But Mum doesn't make things like this…" Dudley complained softly, poking at his apple with a fork.
"It wasn't hard. There's recipes in the papers the doctor gave you. In fact…" Harry's eyes lit up suddenly, "Maybe you had better learn to cook, yourself…"
"Me?? But cooking's for girls!" Dudley wrinkled his nose in disgust at the idea, then realized what he'd just said, "I mean…I don't think I'd be as good at it as you…"
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Not that I'm calling you a girl or…anything like that…" Dudley floundered, "Just…um…you've done it before and…"
"Dudley," Harry interrupted. "What are you going to do when you grow up?"
"Huh?"
"When you get out of school, what are you going to do? Are you going to live here forever?"
"Dad said once he thought he could get me a job at Grunnings."
"So you're going to live at home for the rest of your life?"
"Well…no. I thought maybe I would…get married or something. Someday. If I found a girl who'd appreciate me…like Mum always says…"
"You're going to be waiting a long time if you're hoping for a girl who'll wait on you hand and foot the way Aunt Petunia does." Harry cut a bite off of his apple, looking irritated.
Dudley bit his lip. "What are you asking me this for, anyway?"
Harry sighed. "Look…I've watched you grow up. You don't *do* anything, Dudley. I've had to help with cooking and do dishes and gardening and sweeping up since I was four. I've done all my own laundry since I was eight. You've never had to lift a finger. And I know you hardly ever even did your own homework; you used to bully Lauren McNeil into letting you copy hers. Or me."
"*Your* answers weren't always right, though. She was brainier."
"That's not the point." Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I just think you ought to learn to do something for yourself. And you like food. You ought to like cooking."
Dudley took a few bites of his own apple. It tasted a little like apple pie if you closed your eyes and ignored the fact that there was no crust. Cinnamon-y and sweet. The oatmeal on top was nicely crunchy. He felt a little put-out by Harry's suggestion. Here he was, all sick, just back from the hospital. This was hardly the time for Harry to accuse him of laziness. But at the moment, Harry was the only person in the house speaking to him. Even his mother was upset with him. Dudley didn't really feel like arguing, either. He sighed deeply. "Are you going to teach me?" He couldn't keep the edge of annoyance out of his voice.
Harry looked up at him, plainly surprised. "You'll do it, then?"
"If you help get me started." He scowled back.
Harry laughed suddenly. "You *have* changed, Dudley. If I had suggested this last year, you'd be throwing things at me."
"I'm too tired to throw things," he whined.
"Are you too tired for a walk to the library?"
"A what-??" Dudley stared.
"A walk to the library. It isn't far. Less than a mile." Harry fought to keep the smirk off his face.
"Why would we go to the library?"
"For cookbooks, obviously."
"Do we have to walk? Dad could drive us."
"Do *you* want to ask him?"
Dudley winced, "Erm…no."
"You think he'd be pleased if I asked?"
Dudley couldn't help laughing at this.
"There you are, then. We're walking. It's a nice day, anyway. Are you done eating?"
Dudley shook his head, cleaning his plate and draining his cup hurriedly. Harry stood and crossed over to Hedwig's cage, lifting up the cover to check her water dish. The owl hooted softly. "Ssh," he said, "sorry…didn't mean to wake you. It's only noon. Go back to sleep."
Dudley swallowed and set his cup down, hauling himself slowly to his feet. "Does it talk back?"
Harry let the cover drop and turned to give his cousin a speculative look. "Not in words. Come on, get your tray. We'd better do the dishes before we go or your Mum'll have a fit."
The trek to the library was the longest walk Dudley had been on in as long as he could remember. It turned out to be a little more than a mile, and the sun was hot. He was red-faced and panting by the time they got there, and his blond hair was plastered to his neck with sweat. When they entered the building, he shivered at the change. The air was cool and dry and smelt of paper and leather bindings and glue. Harry moved toward a computer terminal, but Dudley made a beeline toward a rack near the front desk. "Hey…I didn't know they had VHS tapes here!" He studied the titles, then moaned, "Oh, they're all educational."
Harry snickered, "We're not here for videos, anyway." He bent over the terminal, typing in a password, then clicking on the search function.
"D'you come here often?" Dudley watched, bemused. He'd never allowed Harry to use his own computer, and they hadn't had much time with them at school, so his cousin's proficiency surprised him.
"Lots, last summer," Harry pushed his glasses up as they started to slide down his nose. "It's cool and quiet, and the best place to do my homework without being interrupted."
"What kind of homework do you have? Doing magic things?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, "No…I told you I'm not allowed to do magic over the summer. Mostly I have reading and essays."
"Oh. That sounds boring. Just like what I have." Dudley sounded disappointed.
His cousin's lips quirked. "What were you hoping I had to do in the summer?"
"I don't know…I thought maybe you'd…you know, cast spells and turn pumpkins into coaches and fly around on broomsticks." He shrugged helplessly.
Harry giggled and answered cryptically, "Not in this neighborhood. Here's some…" he groped for a pencil and wrote down the call numbers of several cookbooks. "Look, here's one that's even specifically for diabetics."
"I guess we'd better start with that one," Dudley sighed and shuffled after Harry, dragging his feet.
"It's not the end of the world, Dudley…" Harry looked over his shoulder unsympathetically.
"What do you know about it?" Dudley's temper flared suddenly, and he spoke louder than he should have. A librarian looked up from the front desk and frowned at them. Dudley ducked apologetically.
"More than you do," Harry hissed back, nettled, "You didn't even know what a carbohydrate was."
"I've had fifteen hours to get used to the idea, okay?" he whispered back, "How much did you know about it before you read the papers?"
Harry sighed, but said nothing.
"Exactly. All I know is this could be really, really bad." The larger boy bit his lip, an unfamiliar tone creeping into his voice. "I read some of the papers. I stopped because…it's too scary. I don't want to think about it. I don't want it to be real."
Harry stopped in his tracks, looking his cousin over quietly. "What did you read?"
"That…that parts of me could…shut down. My heart could go bad, or my kidneys. I could lose feeling in my feet. And then they could get infected and they might have to cut bits of them off. Or my eyes…I could go blind…"
"But if you take care of yourself like the doctor says, eat less and exercise and lose weight, none of that will happen."
"What if I can't? I'm scared. I could die, Harry. I could die before I'm even as old as Mum and Dad."
Harry was silent a long moment. There was a look of faint desperation in Dudley's eyes, a veiled plea, as if he were begging Harry to fix it for him. The dark-haired boy turned away, shaken, and scanned the bookshelves. After a moment he said quietly, "You won't."
"How do you know?" Dudley half hoped Harry was about to say he could see the future and it was all going to be okay. Maybe the doctors had even made a mistake and Dudley wasn't diabetic after all. Or it could be a joke. Only not a very funny one.
"Because," Harry said softly, "When people are faced with the chance they might die, they do things they never thought were possible."
Dudley gulped. The smaller boy sounded so much older. Haunted, even. "Harry…?" He whispered.
"Here," his cousin said, turning and pushing a thick book into his hands, "you look through that one, and I'll look through this."
Dudley blinked, taken aback, then wrenched his gaze to the cover of his book and sat heavily on the carpeted floor. There were pictures of fresh fruits and vegetables all over the cover. The title was '100 Quick-N-Easy Lo-Fat Recipes'.
Harry sat as well and opened his book, which said, 'Living and Cooking with Diabetes' in black lettering down the spine. For several minutes there was no sound but pages whispering together as they were turned. Dudley wasn't sure what he was looking for, but some of the illustrations he encountered didn't look so bad. In fact, his mouth watered a little, and he forgot about the haunted note he had heard in Harry's voice moments ago. Then he glanced up and found Harry's green eyes focused on him. The gaze was so intense Dudley's breath hitched in an irrational fear that he was about to be turned into a newt. Then Harry grinned, an expression that did not quite reach his eyes, and said "Dudley, look at this…there's a glossary of medical terms in here, and a table showing the calories in all kinds of foods…this could be useful."
He set his book down on its face and crawled over to Harry to peer over his shoulder. He scanned the definitions slowly, "I don't think I understand those…"
"Well…you need to read more. Not that I get all of them, either, but…we'll take it home and go over it later, shall we? How's the one you've got?"
"Um…the food looks kind of good. This is going to be hard, Harry! Looking at the pictures makes me hungry."
"You can have a snack when we get home, if you like."
"I can?" He blinked.
"Yeah. Something light, though, like an orange."
"Oh." Dudley was disappointed for a moment, then reflected that an orange didn't sound so bad after all. He was hungry enough, anything sounded good.
Harry regarded him suspiciously, mildly surprised by his unquestioning acceptance of this. Dudley was being awfully trusting of him, considering they hadn't become friendly at all until just a couple days ago. He couldn't decide whether it was touching or just unnerving. "Well," he said after a moment, "Lets check these out and walk them home. I bet your Mum'll help you look them over, too. She likes cooking."
"I think I hurt her feelings," Dudley said, standing up with a groan. "I told her bugger off when she came to tuck me in this morning."
Harry turned away quickly, shaking in what seemed to be a coughing fit.
"You're laughing," Dudley accused.
"Never," his cousin straightened, his eyes sparkling, then headed for the checkout desk. "You could cook her dinner to apologize, then. She'd think it was adorable."
"She would. But do I want that?" Dudley made a face.
"'My Dinky Duddydums is so talented!'" Harry squealed in falsetto, then ducked and laughed as his cousin swung at him halfheartedly.
"Honestly," sighed Dudley, looking put-upon, but secretly feeling amused.
They checked the books out with Dudley's card, then walked home, taking it more slowly than they had on the way to the library. The books, while not heavy, were rather awkward, and the boys switched off carrying them every other block. Dudley grew quickly red-faced and breathless again, but Harry seemed to enjoy the sun and the warm wind that lapped their faces from time to time.
A couple blocks from home, while Dudley was carrying the books, they were stopped by a voice off to their left shouting, "Oi! Dursley! Long time no see!"
They turned to find Piers Polkiss barreling toward them, followed by about half a dozen other boys. Harry frowned and straightened a little, instinctively trying to look bigger and less vulnerable than he felt. Piers had grown. He was still rail-thin, but he was approaching six feet in height. His face was split in a broad grin, his skin sun-baked to a shade of terra-cotta, but the rodentlike look of his youth had not faded entirely.
"Hallo," Dudley said a little uncertainly. Piers hadn't spoken to him at school in months. Not that they had had a falling out. They had just lost interest in one another.
"Runt," Piers greeted Harry, nodding down at him magnanimously.
Harry scowled, but gave a curt nod in return, replying "Ratface," with understated boldness.
The boys behind Piers laughed and elbowed one another. Harry recognized most of them from the grade school he had attended with Dudley. They had all grown as well.
"You going to let him talk to me like that, Dursley?" Piers asked, but he was grinning, more amused than offended.
Dudley felt a knot of tension begin to form in his chest, but he replied as casually as he could, "I'm not in charge of him."
"Aren't you? I thought maybe you were babysitting."
Harry folded his arms tightly. A flush was creeping over his cheeks.
"What are you up to?" Dudley countered, ignoring the implied insult for the moment and trying to turn the tide of the conversation.
"Playing." One of the boys behind Piers flipped a soccer ball into the air and caught it again. "Want to join?"
"Dursley isn't into sports," Piers sounded a little condescending.
The knot in Dudley's chest tightened. "Just because I'm not on a team!" He huffed.
Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, watching silently.
"Oh, come on," Piers' grin widened. "You know you'd rather be inside on the computer or…" he snatched the books out of Dudley's arms abruptly and looked the titles over, "Cooking?? Look at this, Dursley's going to be a chef. Maybe there's a place for you on a team after all! You can make snacks for the players after the game."
The knot drew tighter still as the boys behind Piers snickered. Dudley struggled for a retort.
"Low-fat? Now, that really isn't like you…" One boy commented, peering at a title over Piers shoulder.
Dudley's heart sped up, and he snatched the books back, his face red from humiliation now as much as heat and exertion. "As a matter of fact these aren't mine." He shoved the books into Harry's arms, almost knocking the smaller boy over.
Harry stumbled slightly, his eyes going wide.
"Oh, so the runt is the chef?" Piers laughed, "Is he making the snacks, then?"
"He did make my lunch this afternoon," Dudley said a little smugly, trying to ignore the viridian gaze that snapped toward him abruptly.
The boys applauded mockingly, led by Piers. "He's finally found his place in the world, the little freak."
Dudley shoved his hands in his pockets, turning away from Harry a bit to avoid the growing intensity of his gaze. "He was bound to be good for something, sooner or later."
There was a strange pop, and a slow hissing sound. All the boys turned to look at the soccer ball, which was slowly going flat. "That's funny," Piers stared, poking at it. "What made it do that?"
Dudley turned to look at Harry, but found he was not where he had been a moment ago. A small, dark-haired figure was stalking rapidly down the sidewalk, two books tucked under its arm. The tension in Dudley's chest loosened suddenly, to be replaced by a hot flood of guilt.
"We'll have to find another one, I guess," one of the boys was saying.
"Yeah. You coming, Dursley, or going home?"
Dudley bit his lip. "Um…Coming. Sure. Yeah. Why not."
He glanced at Harry one more time, then followed Piers and the other boys at the closest thing to a run he could manage.
Harry went home alone.
A/N: Dudley's only human, after all. Can't reform him completely in just five chapters. But don't give up on him yet!
I know exactly where I'm going in the next two chapters, but after that…eheh. I'll be stuck. But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.
Just yesterday I got my own HBA1C results back: 6.6! Higher than 7 is bad, for those who don't know. 6.6 isn't ideal, but it's not as bad as I was afraid it would be. I'm so relieved!!
Thanks to all who reviewed, particularly repeat reviewers!
AngelOnFire: Thank you! I'm trying to use Dudley's diagnosis as a vehicle for increased understanding between him and Harry, which kind of forces me not to focus completely on Dudley's emotions, but also to Harry's reactions. But actually, it's a little amusing to me that there's a plotline at all. Originally, I just intended for it to be a sort of triptych consisting mostly of dialogue between the two boys. Frankly, I like this better.
S. C. Hardy: Oh, I don't know. If they were trapped on a desert island together or were the last two people on earth or something… ;-) There aren't too many stories that focus entirely on Dudley-Harry interaction, but there are lots out there that have them getting along as an element of the plot. Ozma's latest ('Squib Guardian') and rabbit's 'Yet Another Snape Meets the Dursleys Story' come to mind. (Yes, you may consider this an advertisement.)
Catspook: I love how I'm getting all these compliments about them being in character. I try so hard and I'm never quite satisfied, but the fact that other people are makes me feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy. ;-) As for Petunia…she'll avoid taking sides as long as possible.
Ariqua: Poor Harry. He really would rather have gone with Mr. Weasley. After this chapter he might be reconsidering his choice. But I do think he tries hard to do what's right. I actually feel like I don't proofread as much as I should. Looking back at the first chapter now I see some glaring mistakes, mostly in using the same words or phrases more than I'd have liked. But at least it's readable now. I hope to go back after it's all done and polish it up a bit more.
Ariana Deralte: I'm trying to cut back the mini-essays in my responses. Now I've gotten a livejournal, hopefully that'll help and I can confine my musings to there. I think I just really enjoyed the mental image of Dudley throwing things at his father. Maybe he'll do it again later. *eg*
Katriana: Emails it is. Hopefully you haven't changed addys since my last update. I'm also glad that people seem to be accepting of Bill being diabetic. Why I chose him, out of all the Weasleys, I'm not sure. In retrospect, Percy might have been a more interesting choice. But it's Bill now, and Bill it will stay.
Queen Li: My dad has type 2 as well, and I'm pre-diabetic, so most of what I write is from personal experience. I fear I don't have as clear an understand of the mechanics and underlying causes, but I have a pretty good understanding of how you feel after being diagnosed, what you have to do to live with it, and how hard it is to adjust.
Smego Baggins: Thanks for the kind words! I hope your health is better now, and remains that way.
Girloz14: Are you kidding? I love being on peoples' favorites list. ^_^
Shadowycat: Dudley may yet visit the Burrow, actually. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. I just have to think of a decent justification. And probably he'll end up there by sneaking out with Harry behind his parents' back rather than being kicked out by Vernon. Yes, Harry does have a good heart. He's as prone to snap judgments as anyone, but I'm latching on to the way he kept Sirius and Remus from killing Pettigrew in PoA as evidence that he's willing to move beyond his gut reactions to do what he thinks is right.
Rabbit and -v-Jinx-v-: Ooh, I'm alert now? The world needs more lerts. ^_^ I'm having a little trouble with Petunia, actually. I've read all these great fics (yours included) where people really look beyond the surface into what makes her tick, and I'd like to do the same. My trouble is she's the only female in this story and I just want her to be a nice person. But she's not. Maybe I need to write a 'reform Petunia' fic, too. ^_^;;; LOL at your comment about Bertie Botts.
Quoth the Raven: Children's fantasy as a rule focuses on good vs. evil, with characters painted in tones of black and white. There's little room for moral ambiguity. To her credit, I think Rowling has made an effort to include some gray, but even she has left little doubt as to who the good characters are and who the bad ones are. So it's left to the rest of us to dig deeper and bring out the humanity in her villains, the Dursleys included. Which is what I've tried to do with this fic from the beginning. I'm very pleased and gratified that you feel I've succeeded thus far. Thank you for the lengthy and thoughtful review. Now: anyone else who has read this far into the reviews, who hasn't read Quoth's 'Giving Notice', go do it.
A. Lee: Thank you! I'm glad! I will!
Ikazo: Yeah, I think Harry started regretting staying as soon as Arthur left. But it'll give him good karma, right?
Aeryn Alexander: I get the impression that the diabetes stats in the UK are about the same as in America, the lifestyle not being all that awfully different. I get my information from the American Diabetes Association, but I know there's a similar, allied association in Britain. I'm not sure I am handling everything in this story, though…its sort of experimental for me, but I'm trying to let the characters guide the interactions and letting the plot progress as naturally as I can through cause and effect. When I was younger I used to just sit in front of a piece of paper and write and just see where it took me. Lately I've been doing detailed plotting before even beginning a story. The writing method I've been using here is somewhere in between. I'm not sure it would serve me too well for a novel, but it's working nicely for a fanfic.
Anonymous person: Thanks!
Fleur: I'm a really slow updater, and I apologize. I know it drives me nuts when people take months to update their fics, but if I try and pick up the pace, I'm just not happy with the results. I hope you're still reading. And thank you for tolerating my mini-essay, as well. ^_^
Naomi SilverWolf: I'm actually portraying Dudley as a bit like myself in some ways, particularly toward the middle of this chapter. Not that I was ever quite so grabby or bratty or hostile (at least, I sure hope not), but I was and am a bit spoiled and I have *so* much trouble on diets. I used to cache food just like he's been doing. It hasn't served me well in life, unfortunately. _
Crystalclear8050: Thank you! I try to write with less-used characters as much as I can, although I usually just write where I've got inspiration.
Triskelion: *blush* I'm glad to be on your favorites list. Thanks for the compliments.
Ara Kane: ::Bridgie blinks thoughtfully as she gets a mental image of Dudley hurling gnomes around:: You know, I bet he'd enjoy that…*giggle*
Ozma: Wow…I'd heard such good things about your work for some time, and then I read it and it was great and then suddenly you appeared on my review list and I just about fell over. I'm so pleased you like my work, and equally pleased that Ariana *and* Aeryn *and* Jelsemium recommended me!
Immortal Rose: Sorry about the distance between updates. I really got stuck on this one, but I'm trying to do better.
SummerRose: I think he will, in fact.
Von: Nasty, yes, but quite understandable.
Camel Socks: I feel sorry for Vernon too, actually. I'm trying to decide now how or if the breach will be mended. LOL…Ron visiting the Dursleys…that would be a riot, but I don't think Vernon and Petunia would willingly let him stay.
Linneria: Bill has type 1 diabetes, which is no less nasty than the other type, but, yes, I imagine he does fine with magic. I wonder if he can take a potion or something instead of insulin shots…
Stormyfire: Nice is a strong word, especially after this chapter. ;-) But he's not as bad as he could be. I'm glad you find him believable
Marshmellow16b: Thank you! Wood, huh? I dunno, he was most definitely a bishounen in the movie, but I find the Quidditch obsession spooky. But to each his own, eh?
Essy Lasaylan: lol…I reread the first chapter and discovered that I mentioned Dudley losing 'pounds' in the very first paragraph. *smacks forehead* I guess it is glaringly obvious. Oh, well. Yes, if you're still reading, it would be great if you'd go through and suggest alternatives. Thank you for the offer!
Shichan Goddess: Wow…there's just so many compliments in your reviews I just don't know how to respond. Except that I'm very, very flattered and please do keep reading! J
Snidget Jaguarni: Yes, definitely type 2 for Dudley. Apparently it's becoming more and more common in younger and younger people, which is a little spooky.
Smitha-r: I didn't go into much information about diabetes this chapter for fear of slowing the plot down. I think what I'll end up doing is handing out most of the information in correspondence between Bill and Dudley/Harry. I'm trying to be accurate, but if you see any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I'll try to correct them. That goes for anyone with any knowledge of diabetes who reads this story.
OO WTH: I've never even been to fictionalley.org. I guess I should look into it. I keep meaning to put together a web page one of these days, too.
Kranberries: I'm kind of bad about leaving reviews, partly because I never know quite what to say other than 'Good story'. I hope to improve on that habit. Anyway, I'm glad you found your way back and that you like the story.
WorldsBiggestHermioneFan, Rhiain, and npetrenko: Thank you!
Kateydidnt: Type II, as I've mentioned above. Poor Dudley. Look out! The popups are coming to get you! ;-)
Eclipse: I'll be happy to email you as soon as it's posted. ^_^
Icy Flame: I've got an addict, now? Cool. ;-) Don't worry, we haven't heard the last of the Weasleys.
Ahknee/Kitten: Oi, I'm glad you liked it. ;-)
Jamie Anderson: Your wish for an update to be posted soon can actually be fulfilled, since you just found the story a few days ago. ^_~ I really like big words, actually, but I try not to overuse them. I'm glad you like my style.