"Alright, Dud?" Ron and Dean greeted as they entered.
"Wuh hurrah," Dudley tried to speak. His teeth had shrank slightly, but Madam Pomfrey said it would be a long process to fully reverse the curse—it was different than most engorgement charms or engorgement potions, being an actual hex it couldn't be reversed in a matter of moments as it had effected his roots. Pomfrey had dabbed his teeth with a potion which she said would do the job.
"Sorry?" Dean grinned.
Dudley grabbed the piece of parchment he had used to communicate with Madam Pomfry and scrawled "What happened?" on it.
"Well, we lost, Dud," Ron said, looking angry.
"Malfoy hit me with tarantellegra, someone got me in the face with a stinging hex …"
"And Crabbe got me with something that knocked me off my feet—might have been impedimenta, but it hit. Felt like getting punched."
"Thuihmeaa …" Dudley stopped speaking and scrawled. "We need to get revenge."
Ron and Dean both nodded. They stayed with him for an hour until Madam Pomfrey hushed them away. Dudley was quite glad to have some peace. He was a bit sleepy and his jaw was still sore, despite the pain-relief spell that Madam Pomfrey had cast.
He was awoke suddenly by the sound off hurried footsteps and talking. He opened his eyes to look.
Next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.
"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Dudley's bed out of sight. Dudley lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, and then Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. He heard a sharp intake of breath.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed.
"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him in the trophy room."
Slowly and carefully, Dudley raised himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.
It was Neville Longbottom. His eyes were wide and his hands were by his side.
"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think... If Argus Filch hadn't been patroling-"
The three of them stared down at Neville.
"What could do something like this?" Madam Pomfrey said.
"I have theories—many of them," Dumbledore said softly. "But one thing is clear. Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.
"But, Albus... surely... who?"
"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Neville. "The question is, how..." And from what Dudley could see of Professor McGonagall's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.
Dudley woke up on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with winter sunlight and his teeth back to their normal size. He sat up quickly and looked over at Neville's bed, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains Dudley had changed behind yesterday. Seeing that he was awake, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a breakfast tray and then began feeling his jaw and lifting up his gums.
"All in order," she said as he clumsily fed himself porridge. "When you've finished eating, you may leave."
Dudley dressed as quickly as he could and hurried off to Gryffindor Tower, desperate to tell Ron and Dean the news. He found them in the common room, sprawled in chairs near the fire, a wizarding chess set near them with the pieces only half set up.
"Come on," Dudley dragged them both up the stairs to the common room.
"Get out of here, Seamus," Dudley ordered, shaking the Irish boy asleep.
"I'm still in my pajamas!" he protested furiously.
"Don't care, get out!" Dudley snapped, pointing the door.
Muttering angrily, Seamus grabbed an old pair of crumped up robes from his bed and stalked off outside.
"What's the fuss, Dud?" Ron asked.
Quickly, he told them what had happened.
"Blimey, it got Neville?" Ron said in shock. "But what was it, dud Dumbledore say?"
'He said he has theories, that's it," said Dudley.
"What was Neville doing in the trophy room at that time?" Dean said, thoughtfully. "He never breaks the rules. Or goes out at night."
They all looked thoughtful. "You don't reckon it's something to do with Hermione," said Ron at last. "I know they're up to something."
"Very likely," said Dean. "But why the trophy room."
"You don't think there's a secret passage in there or something?" Dudley suggested.
"Nah, if Hermione's breaking rules, it'll be for something more serious than finding a new secret passage," Ron said.
"All I can think is she's after Malfoy too," Dean said, after a few seconds.
Dudley nodded, that made sense. It was a shame that she wasn't talking to them any more.
"Alright," he decided. "If Hermione thinks she's going to stop Malfoy or whoever the heir of Slytherin is before us, she's got another thing coming, right? We'll get the glory—not her."
"You have a plan then?" Ron said, sounding impressed.
"No," Dudley admitted. "But look at what we know—Malfoy opened the Chamber of Secrets, and something is attacking people. Do we know anything that paralyzes people?" He looked at Ron.
"Lots of things, I think," Ron said. "Bound to be lots of potions or spells. And I bet there's other stuff that can."
Dudley sighed. This was sounding a bit like it may lead to research. Research the most boring part of solving a mystery.
"I wish we could talk to Dobby again, grill him about what happened," Dudley said.
At a loss of what to do, the three decided to head to their first class of the day—Charms, where Flitwick continued to lecture them on the theory behind memory charms, a difficult branch of magic. As it wasn't a practical lesson, Dudley struggled to stay interested.
The news that Neville Longbottom had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by the end of the first class. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.
Ginny Weasley and Luna were seen comforting each other—even though neither knew Neville, they looked very upset at the news, and they weren't the only ones. Hermione Granger was seen looking very pale and wasn't her usual self in class, not answering a single question—a first for her.
There was much discussion that the first victim of the creature was a pure blood and not a muggleborn.
"Must have been a mistake," Ron had said, as they discussed it over dinner. "I reckon Neville just stumbled across it and got caught in the crossfire."
'Or he could just be attacking anyone," Dean said—a theory that provided zero comfort to anybody.
"Or people he doesn't like," Dudley added. "Remember, Malfoy has never liked Neville."
Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Dudley bought himself an evil smelling onion and Dean went for a weird amulet made out of thorns. Ron bought a rotting newt tail which he ended up throwing at Malfoy one morning when they passed him in the corridor—it was one small measure of revenge after the incident a few days ago.
Hermione, they noticed, was spending more and more in the library. Without Neville around she looked lonely. She was always by herself. Dean felt a bit guilty, but as Dudley pointed out, it was she who had broken up their friendship.
Much to their surprise, one morning, rumors spread that she had been caught out of bounds by Filch and had a night's detention and 10 points off Gryffindor.
"I reckon she's cracking up," Ron had said in an awed voice. "Can't cope with what happened to Neville. Hermione never gets into trouble. Still—I wish I knew what she was up too."
Hermione though, was staying tight-lipped. When Dean, who she didn't dislike as much asked her, she had just huffed and walked off, no doubt back to the library.
Dudley was still struggling with his classes. None of his work other than Defence Against the Dark Arts was going well—and that was only because Lockhart seemed to like him. He was also angry about being embarrassed by Malfoy. He had relieved his frustrations by doubling his intimidation of Colin Creevey, and when he wasn't around, he had on a few occasions sought out Theodore Nott to torment. It pleased him to see Creevey spending less and less time in Gryffindor Tower or head in the opposite direction. Ron and Dean never joined in his tormenting of Colin, though they were both glad to seek out Nott.
Rumors still spread that Dudley was involved—mainly among the Hufflepuffs. Even though he had beat up Ernie and Justin twice, the rumors still spread that Dudley was Slytherin's heir. Malfoy and the Slytherins had been disgusted by the rumors. "That mudblood oaf!" Malfoy was heard protesting before potions. It was only the presence of Snape that stopped Dudley from pounding him.
One morning, they were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a knot of people clustered around a notice board. Dudley elbowed Anthony Goldstein and a Hufflepuff third year out of the way so he could see it.
Gilderoy Lockhart (Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five time winner of Witch Weekly's "Most Charming Smile") presents the Hogwarts dueling club. Learn the art of dueling from the author of bestselling book Magical Me. Tonight, 8.00PM in the Great Hall.
"I wouldn't mind dueling lessons," said Dean.
"You think Slyterin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he looked interested. "Lockhart though, can he actually teach anything?"
"His classes are awful, but maybe he'll be better teaching dueling," said Dean. "Come on, it should be worth a look at least."
At eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.
Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.
Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!
"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Dudley's ear.
"Come on, Lockhart's that bad," Dudley said. "His classes aren't great, but he gives me lots of points."
Snape's upper lip was curling. Dudley wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
"I wouldn't bet on that," Dean murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.
"One - two - three-"
Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.
Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.
"So, he can't duel either," Ron said in disgust.
Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.
"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."
Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me-"
They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Snape reached Dudley, Dean and Ron first.
"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Dursley-"
Dudley moved automatically toward Dean.
"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of Dursley. And you, Mr. Thomas can partner Mr. Crabbe. And let's see …" his eyes set on Hermione who was nearby. "Miss Granger can pair with Miss Bulstrode."
Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked Crabbe and a Slytherin girl who reminded Dudley of a picture he'd seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.
"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"
Dudley and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.
"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one ... two ... three-"
Both Dudley and Malfoy had the same idea and fired on two. Malfoy's spell hit Dudley so hard he felt as though he'd been hit over the head with a saucepan. He stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working. Across from him, he said Malfoy falling to the floor as a result of Dudley's leg-locker curse.
Dudley raised his wand to finish Malfoy off, but Malfoy was faster. He aimed his wand from the ground and cried" Tarantallegra!" and the next second Dudley's legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep.
"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge. "Finite Incantatem!" he shouted; Dudley's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy's legs unlocked, and they were able to look up.
A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Finch-Fletchley and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was standing over Seamus who was getting to his feet after been hit by petrificus totalus; Dean and Crabbe were glaring at each (Dean had a cut on his cheek) but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Ron leapt forward and pulled Bulstrode off with difficulty.
"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan..."
"Careful there, Miss Fawcett... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second,"
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair…"
"How about Malfoy and Dursley?" Snape said, his eyes glinting.
"An excellent idea," Lockhart said, gesturing Dudley and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.
"Now, Dudley," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."
He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited-"
Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Dudley looked up at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"
"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.
"You wish," said Dudley out of the corner of his mouth.
Lockhart cuffed Dudley merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Dudley!"
"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.
Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"
The end of his wand exploded. Dudley watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.
"Locomotor mortis!" Dudley shouted, aiming at the snake. The spell hit the serpent but, of course, had no effect because it had no legs.
"Don't move, Dursley," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Dudley standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."
"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.
"Flipendo!" Dudley cried, firing at the snake. The knockback jinx smashed into the black serpent, hurling it into Finch-Fletchley who screamed. The snake's fangs sank into his arm and Dudley gaped, shocked at what he had caused.
Snape stepped forward and waved his wand. The snake vanished in a cloud of black smoke. The hall was silent as he knelt next to Finch-Fletchley and drew his wand across the bite mark. "Hospital wing, Finch-Fletchley, Macmillan—you take him."
He turned and looked shrewdly and calculatingly at Dudley—it was was far from a pleasant look.
"You ought to be kicked out!" a girl Dudley vaguely recognized as Susan Bones cried out, her face covered in tears.
"What …" Dudley began, but Ron and Dean led him forcibly out of the hall.
"Why is she mad at me?" Dudley exploded. "I was trying to help Finch-Fletchley!"
"I know, mate" Ron said. "But it looked like you were knocking the snake into him."
"I didn't …" Dudley began.
"Mate, we know," said Dean. "If anything they should be mad at Malfoy for conjuring that thing."
"Yeah … yeah, that's right. What was he thinking?"
"You think he'll be alright?" Dean asked. "Finch-Fletchley."
"Course," said Ron. "It looked like Snape healed him."
They grew quiet as the Great Hall emptied. Some of the students fixed Dudley with glares as they passed.
Luna though left Ginny's side and bounded up. "I don't think you attacked Justin Finch-Fletchley and I think you were trying to help him!" she said, quickly.
"Thanks," Dudley said, awkwardly.
Ginny joined them too. "Of course, only an idiot would think Dudley was attacking him," she said loudly so that the nearby Hufflepuff's heard them. "Dudley was clearly trying to help."
Dudley smiled slightly, pleased at the support. He may not like Finch-Fletchley and may enjoy tormenting him and beating him up, but he wouldn't go so far as to sic a snake on him.
