It was around dinner time that it happened. Despite Vernon's loud protests, the radio stayed on. Dudley zoned out at times, and at other times struggled to understand the wizarding jargon, but one thing was clear – the wizarding world was doing its very best to support his cousin in his quest against this Dark Wizard. Diggle and Hestia paid little attention to their roast pork as they listened to the radio, occasionally snickering.
The boy called Rapier was in the middle of a daring joke about You-know-who's missing nose when suddenly, excited whispers were heard in the background.
''What is it, River?'' Rapier asked, using the codenames.
''Lightning has struck! I repeat, folks- Lightning has struck at Hogwarts! Lightning. Has. Struck!''
''Wait- no give it to me- yes – do not, I repeat, do not attempt to apparate into Hogsmeade- it will set off the Cauterwheel charm – apparate into the Hogshead pub please – straight into the bar. Further information will be given – ''
''Thank you, Romulus, for your caution. Folks, this is it! Lightning has struck!''
''But what does it mean?'' Dudley finally burst out, unable to help himself.
Diggle and Jones were frozen on their seats. Suddenly, Jones stood up, her expression frightfully determined.
''Right, that's it then. Come along – off we go.''
Diggle stood up as well, his eyes shining.
''Lightning has struck, Dudley. Harry Potter is here. ''
Vernon whipped his head from side to side, as if Harry would suddenly pop out in the middle of their shabby little kitchen.
Dudley felt the tension building up until he could stand it no more. All through the year he was convinced Harry has lost his damn mind- attacking ministry officials, breaking into banks – none of it seemed relevant to the war that was supposedly going on. Now, however, everything suddenly felt terrifyingly real.
The war was real. It was happening, right now, while they ate roasted pork and Yorkshire pudding for dinner.
''So are you…going there? Where he is? To …fight? ''
Diggle nodded solemnly, withdrawing his wand from within his lemon green robes.
''But – what about them? '' Hestia said suddenly, nodding towards the Dursleys.
Vernon narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Petunia put her arms around Dudley protectively – or at least, attempted to.
''What do you mean, what about us? We aren't doing a thing – go wherever you want to!''
Over a year of co-habiting had taught Hestia to not pay attention when Vernon spouted insults like that.
''What if they attack here? The muggles can't defend themselves!'' She continued, shaking her wand.
''Well, this house is under the Fidelius charm, you know. Besides, wouldn't the Death Eaters be busy fighting?''
''Never underestimate the dangers. What if You- Know- Who decided to send someone here to capture them?''
Petunia gave a whimper as she hugged her son close, and Vernon, who was red from anger earlier, immediately went white as a sheet.
''What do you reckon?'' Diggle asked, stooping to pick up his pointy hat from the carpet.
Hestia chewed her bottom lip for a few seconds.
''How strong the wards are, do you think? '' She asked, glancing outside.
Dudley had no idea what she was looking at, considering he saw nothing but a small garden, and the white picket fences beyond the blooming hydrangeas.
''Kingsley and Moody put them up last year. Strong enough, I'd say.''
The two of them nodded towards each other, as if reaching some sort of silent agreement.
''Right. Listen up, then. Dedalus and I here are going to join the war- god knows we need as many on our side as we possibly can gather. You lot don't step out beyond the garden- in fact, just stay inside the house. If we win the war, someone will obviously come and get you. If we don't….well, one of us will try to come back and help you leave the country – although nowhere is safe in that case – ''
''Now wait just a minute we never agreed to leave –''
''Stay here then. You will be butchered. '' Hestia cut off, her eyes very bright.
Dudley could almost sense she was at the end of her patience. Vernon made a funny choking noise, and Petunia burst into tears, still holding on to Dudley.
''Go on, you people. Nothing much to be done here, eh?'' Dudley cleared his throat.
He was aware of his parents gaping at him. But with a newfound authority, he ploughed on.
''We aren't sure what to do but I guess we'll get the passports and stuff ready, if we need to go away. You focus on the fight.''
Dudley nodded firmly at Diggle and Jones, who beamed at him. Diggle grasped his hands in a firm handshake and Hestia nodded at him.
They walked out through the back door- and just beyond the fence, vanished with a resounding CRACK.
'' Oh, Dudders!'' Petunia sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with her white floral handkerchief.
Vernon was still at a loss for words.
That night, after a brief row with his father about sending off those 'freaks who were supposed to stay here and protect them now what were they supposed to do if something bad happened to their family?' – Dudley paced the living room restlessly.
He knew his parents weren't asleep – they had reluctantly started packing bags and sorting out documents even though Vernon had shook his beefy fists and said he wasn't leaving Britain for a bunch of freaks and their nonsense wars.
Dudley had, for some reason, never realized before that Harry might indeed, die. The thought strangely choked up his throat- he had never properly thanked Harry for saving him from those demented thingies! He never apologized for all those punches and 'Harry Hunting' games that he and Piers played!
Even though the whole year was spent in numerous rumors and theories about where the Chosen one might be or what his next move will be, the fact that Harry might actually lose his life had never felt so real up until tonight.
Dudley walked up to the window and pressed his nose against the glass, looking up at the sky. He didn't know what he was looking for- those red and green sparks he'd seen months ago? Come to think of it, he had no idea where Hogwarts was – Hestia had said it was unplottable, however impossible that may sound.
He kept alternating between pacing and glancing out the window every few minutes. The quiet neighborhood unsettled him – there was a war going on and not one of these people knew! As soon as the east became rosy with the first rays of the sun, Dudley rushed into the kitchen and tried to fiddle with the radio looking thing.
No use. It remained silent and unresponsive.
Dudley cautiously poked his head out to scan the pink sky for any signs of owls, but it was strangely empty.
Just as he was about to put his head back in, a CRACK startled him so much that he banged his head on the glass pane. Eyes watering, he saw a hunched figure in mauve robes hurry up the gravelly pathway towards the house. Was it Jones?
''Dudley, what are you – '' Petunia started, rubbing her tired eyes as she walked into the living room.
''Ssshhh!'' Dudley hushed his mother furiously as he leapt across the kitchen counter to grab a knife.
He was well aware a knife was nothing in front of a wizard, but oh well- nobody could fault him for trying.
As soon as the door creaked open, Dudley hefted the knife up. It was, indeed, Hestia, but Dudley was taking no chances. He vividly remembered Polyjuice from the many news clippings he had read over the months.
''What is the color of the plate I broke yesterday morning?'' He demanded, bravely pointing the knife.
Hestia was startled, so startled, in fact, that she forgot to point her wand.
''Err…blue? With a little tulip on the side?''
Satisfied, Dudley lowered the knife, while Hestia's face split into a huge smile.
''Well done, Dudley!Quick thinking there!''
Dudley nodded, pleased with himself, and nervously shuffled his feet.
''So, what happened?''
Hestia gave a small sigh as she shook off her outer robes.
''We won, but oh- so many people, good people, died!''
She burst into tears, while Petunia sniffed at her shabby robes. Upon a closer look, Dudley realized Hestia was hurt- there seemed to be splotches of brownish dried blood on the cuffs, the face was smudged with soot and dust, debris smattered throughout her clothes and curls – and her left hand was wrapped in white gauze. She almost sank into the sofa, shoulders shaking as she sobbed harder.
He stood there for a second, feeling very awkward, then slowly pulled a chair to sit in front of her.
''Not…Diggle though? He's okay, isn't he?''
''Oh, he's in St. Mungo's – the wizarding hospital-'' she added, seeing his confusion- '' Nasty curse, he needs a blood replenishing potion every now and then, but he will be okay in a day or two.''
Dudley sighed with relief.
Petunia sniffed a bit, and after clearing her throat, asked –
''The boy. ''
Dudley looked up, quite surprised. He didn't think his parents had any sort of attachment towards Harry.
''Oh, poor lad!'' Hestia burst into tears again.
Dudley inhaled sharply. '' What about him? Isn't he – is he – he's not, is he?''
''Oh, we were all standing there sometime around dawn, you know, after an awful night- we were picking up our people and tending to the wounds when he – oh, that terrible man came out from the woods- and declared Harry was dead!''
Dudley could see Vernon descending the stairs- he stopped short upon hearing the last sentence. Dudley himself felt as if cold shivers were running down his spine.
''And then McGonagall cried out loud, such a terrible, heart-breaking sound it was- and we all thought it was all over – we saw his body, oh yes we did- so still, so terribly still – but then the battle started again, and hexes and curses flying around all over the place and suddenly there he is, standing in front of You- Know-Who , challenging him to a duel! I swear I've never seen anything like it- ''
Dudley, forgetting all manners, grabbed her by the shoulder – '' He's alive then? Definitely alive?''
''Yes yes yes! He's alive – he did it again – he survived the Killing Curse twice now!''
Dudley, of course, knew what the killing curse was- wasn't it the same thing that killed the Potters?
''I suppose we'll be going back to our houses then?'' Vernon rumbled, walking towards the kitchen.
Hestia glanced up at him, disbelief written across her face.
''Dad. They need some time- the war ended just a few hours ago!''
''Why must we suffer, eh? Now that the ruddy war is over- ''
''You can't go back yet.'' Hestia interjected, firmly and coldly.
''Why not?'' Petunia demanded, folding her arms across her chest and training her beady little eyes on the exhausted witch.
''Privet Drive needs to be examined by experts and curse breakers to see if any jinxes have been put on the house or anything within it. Once it is deemed safe we will, of course, escort you back there. But, to be very frank, ridding a house of cursed objects is pretty low on the list right now- the war has caused an unimaginable amount of damage to our world. People need to be taken care of, war criminals are to be captured, entire houses and institutions need to be rebuilt, not to mention searching for several muggleborns who went missing during the course of a year- so much to do right now-''
''That isn't any of our business, now is it?'' Vernon raged on, waving a toast angrily. '' We have suffered long enough-''
''You have been cocooned in your safe little hidey-hole throughout the entire war, Dursley!You have seen nothing- nothing that happened outside – all you did was complain day in and day out – while people were out there dying- while your own nephew was out there risking his life every day for everyone! Now you will sit tight while arrangements are made for your further safety- or you do as you please and pack your bags and go back home- but don't complain when your curtains try to strangle you or your silverware attacks you during dinner due to some unknown dark curse! ''
Hestia fumed, eyes flashing, wand gripped so tight her knuckles were white.
Vernon gaped at her, opening and closing his mouth several times, before deciding to angrily stomp upstairs, grabbing a plate of eggs and bacon.
''Don't you need to be in a hospital too?'' Dudley asked, after a period of awkward silence during which Petunia had started sniffling into her hanky.
Hestia glanced at her wrapped hand – '' Ah, nothing serious, there are people who need care more than me. Resources are running a bit low- I reckon Madam Pomfrey doesn't have much potions left- but I must go on- I was supposed to collect a few herbs from the apothecary, just thought I'd stop by-''
Dudley nodded, and patted her shoulder.
''Go on then. We are well stocked for another week at least – besides now that the war is over I can simply pop by the market-''
''Oh no you mustn't- there are still death eaters on the loose- I'll visit again in a few days- but the wards are still in place – you mustn't stroll out whenever you please-''
Hestia went on to lecture him for a good fifteen minutes after which he nodded his agreement and sent her off. She walked up to the fences and disappeared with a familiar crack, as Dudley looked up at the sky again. He felt as if he could discern little golden sparks against the rapidly brightening east sky, and spotted a flurry of owls swooping this way and that.
Behind him, Petunia Dursley looked up at the owls with bright brown eyes, remembering another morning, from seventeen years ago, where amidst the similar celebrations of a war just won, she'd received the letter about her orphaned nephew and the death of her only, albeit freakish sister.