Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter's universe. Paradigm Shift is a side story to my other fic, Han, but it can be read independently.

Chapter two: disappointment

The next day, instead of sleeping in, he got up as soon as his mother left for work. Quickly dressed, he picked up a peace of bread to eat on the way and left the house. He knew exactly where to go, having spent countless hours planning this before actually daring to do it.

He walked for about half an hour before arriving in front of a stern-looking building, with high grey walls and tiny windows. It didn't look very welcoming to the seven year old Dudley, and the guard posted in front of the door didn't seem very forthcoming. He didn't even looked at the scared boy when he approached, and appeared fully concentrated on his cigarette. But Dudley hadn't come this far for nothing, so he politely asked him:

"Excuse me sir, but I would like to see my daddy who's in prison."

The guard finally looked at him with a smirk and blew smoke right on his face, before saying:

"And what's your father's name, kid?"

"Dursley, sir. Vernon Dursley."

The man looked at him from head to toes, and his smirk grew wider while he observed:

"Yeah, I should have noticed. You're your father's son, ain't you boy?"

Dudley, not liking his tone, wisely decided not to answer. The man frowned, and asked:

"Came alone, didn't yeh? I'm not supposed to open the door for small kids, y'know. Can't have them traumatised… But since you don't seem to be a whiner I'll make an exception… Wait here."

Dudley definitely didn't like his tone of voice, or the smirk firmly planted on the guard's face. He didn't believe the man would make an exception out of generosity for him. No, it seemed like the man wanted him to see his father, as if the fact made him laugh.

But since he did want to see his dad, he decided the man's reasons for helping him didn't matter. The man soon returned with another, and they shared a laugh, before Dudley was instructed to follow the second man while the first stayed at the door.

They entered a dark corridors in which there were cells on each side. Dirty-looking men were begging for release in most of them, and the others were making gestures Dudley had only seen in the movies his dad watched, and saying things he didn't quite understand. He wasn't sure he wanted to.

Finally they entered a big room where there were tables in front of a glass wall. Dudley was instructed to sit at one of the tables, and to pick up the phone. Then he was left alone, as the man went to bring his dad.

He was both terribly afraid and excited. He was in a dark place, with no one, not even his mum, knowing he was there, surrounded by criminals and men he didn't like at all, but he was finally about to see his dad again! That was more important than anything else.

He waited for what seemed like ages, but was in fact only a few minutes. As he was beginning to lose a patience he never had, his father was brought in the other side of the window. However, he didn't sat in front of him. Instead, as soon as he saw his son, he began to run away! But the guards didn't let him go, and forced him to sit. Dudley watched, bewildered, as Vernon fought to get away, but when it was clear the guards wouldn't let him leave, he picked up the phone to speak to his son. Dudley picked his, relieved, but he was started by his dad's angry voice:

"What the hell are you doing here, freak?"

Biting his lips to avoid crying, he answered bravely:

"I'm here to see you, daddy."

"I'm NOT your daddy, stupid boy! No son of mine could be a freak!"

"But…"

"No buts. I don't want to see you ever again, is that clear boy? Never! Or I'll just kill you with my bare hands, just like I killed the other freak Potter! I swear I will!"

Dudley was afraid. Even if he couldn't bring himself to believe the words his dad said, there was no mistaking his look. Hate. Disgust. That was all his dad felt for him now. He looked away, unable to sustain his dad's gaze, and saw the guards faces. They were smirking, as if congratulating themselves of a good joke they could tell the others later in front of a bier. Suddenly, the young boy felt very sick. He was sick of that place, sick of the situation he was in, and he just wanted to run to his mum.

One last time, he looked up at his dad's face, and what he saw shocked him beyond belief. The man was smiling. Not an encouraging smile, no, a mocking one. The three men were all making fun of him, mocking him for being a freak, for being rejected by his own father. They were smiling at his obvious pain.

He couldn't bear it anymore. He stood up abruptly and ran, towards the way he just came from, and tears were rolling down his cheeks as he did so. On his way to the door, he could hear the other prisoners laughing. He opened the door, and the outside guard openly laughed upon seeing his teary face. Dudley didn't even look at him, he ran away. He didn't even care where he was going, as long as it was far away from this place.

He ran for what seemed like hours, until he was dead tired, too tired to be in that much pain anymore. He stopped, his breath racing, his legs and feet hurting, and he fell down on his knees and cried.

And cried. And cried. And sobbed. And whined.

Then, when he didn't have any tears left, he felt empty, but somehow relieved. He looked up, and saw he was in a dead-end between two buildings, not very far from home. The thought gave him some courage, and he stood up, fully intending to go straight away to his mum for comfort.

As he made his way out of the dead end, though, two evil-looking men suddenly came in front of him, blocking the way out.

"Hey little boy, what yer doing here all alone?" one of them said with a false smooth voice.

Dudley clenched his teeth. His mum had warned him about adult bullies who attacked children, and he had a feeling those two didn't want to help him. He'd had enough. There was only so much one could take in a bad day, and he had reached his limit earlier. His breathing hard, his heart racing, he was about to try to fight those two giants, or run past them, or just scream, he didn't know which, when something weird happened. Later he figured it was the wind, but he couldn't fully believe the wind had anything to do about it.

The men went flying into the wall. Dudley didn't took the time to think about it. He ran straight away home. On his way, he had to avoid three cars, two bikes and many walking people, but he didn't care, he just wanted to be safe, to be home, to be with his mum.

When he arrived, his mum was reading a magazine. She looked up, smiled upon seeing him, then frowned.

"Where have you been?" she asked, then, before he had any time to answer, she added:

"You're panting! What were you doing?"

Seeing the concern in her face, he found he couldn't tell her about his da- Vernon. She would be disappointed if she knew he had gone to see him, as she had expressively forbidden him to. So he just said:

"I was jogging, mummy. At school the others said I should lose weight!"

Which was true. They had. Just not as nicely as he had put him for his mum. They just mocked him for being fat.

"Alone? In the streets? Running? Are you mad? Look, if you really want to lose weight, I'll bring you to the park twice a week to run, okay? Just don't go on your own. Mummy was worried."

"Okay mum."

"Good. Now, how about some orange juice and biscuits? You look like you need it."

"Cool!"

He smiled. His mum was great. Who needed a father when they had Petunia Evans as a mother?

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