Court Ordered Diet
by Surplus Imagination
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley and the other characters of the Harry Potter Universe belong to J.K. Rowlings. This writing is for pleasure only, no profit is intended.
A/N Thanks for all the support! A special thanks to PenelopeAntwerp for the idea that changed the ending of this chapter.
The Potion
The second day on the Atkins diet went better than the first. The third day was near about perfect. The diet was followed to the letter, well, Hermione's letter. Dudley earned another three hours of volunteer work each day. He walked six kilometers instead of five and kept up his weight lifting routine. Enthusiastic, he completed not only the nightly lesson plans but did extra geography without being asked.
Harry was exhausted but content. It felt great to see Dudley get on track so easily. Being a coach, mentor, warden... whatever, was a lot of work, but he didn't really mind. Between the effort of keeping his cousin moving from task to task and the attention required for a winning class of garden, Harry didn't have a spare minute to waste on troubled thoughts. His sleeping was never better, practically nightmare-free. Hermione would have pointed out that avoided feelings would resurface if not confronted. Harry was relieved she wasn't around to force him to acknowledge just that. Things were running smooth, well, most of the time.
The only hitch to success were the shelter pets. Dudley's oversized shirt was working overtime smuggling small animals on the bus home. The second day, Dudley bought home a kitten for himself, a feisty calico. Aunt Petunia detested cats and demanded that Dudley take the 'nasty little thing' right back where he found it in the shrillest voice Harry had ever heard. Dudley refused protesting that the kitty would be gassed if returned to the Royal Humane Society. Harry appealed to Mrs. Figg who didn't want another cat. After some quick bargaining, the elderly woman took the second kitten in exchange for Harry reworking her flower beds in decorative cabbages and larks spur. Harry promised to have them done within the next week.
On the third day Dudley brought home a beagle pup. The big eyed canine frisked about the living room charming everyone with his clumsy puppy ways. Harry thought that Aunt Petunia might actually allow Dudley to keep this little guy until the beagle piddled in the middle of Petunia's light-colored carpet. He had to go, preferably before he had to do more than 'leak'.
Harry did some quick thinking and rushed a note off to Neville. With his fingers crossed he wrote:
Dear Neville,
How are you doing? I hope you didn't get into too much trouble with your Gran for sneaking here on the Knight Bus. The yard looks great! So far I've seen pixies in the back but no fairies or gnomes.
I would like to thank you for all your efforts by giving you a puppy, an adorable beagle male. He would be good company for your Gran during the school year too. As much as I would have liked to surprise you with the gift, I thought it would be better if I checked with you first. Would you accept the beagle puppy as a thank you?
Please send your reply immediately, as I have to act now to secure the pup.
Your friend,
Harry
"That's a lie," Dudley's voice came just behind his ear. The oaf was reading over his shoulder the entire time while cradling the puppy in his arms. The little beagle was half asleep and yawning. "What are pixies?"
Harry turned around to glare. "It's not necessarily a lie. I do want to thank him. I might have thought of something like this." He ignored the pixie question. "It's rude to read other people's mail."
Dudley snorted. "Liar liar liar ...," he taunted. The puppy stirred sleepily and starting licking Dudley's neck.
"Don't you have weight training to do?" Harry growled out between clenched teeth. The truth of Dudley's words stung.
Demanding an unprecedented bribe of four owl treats, Hedwig launched off to Neville's house with strict instructions to wait for a reply. In the meantime, Harry babysat the puppy while he supervised Dudley's exercise and study sessions. He was so irritable that Dudley started saluting with a 'Yes, Warden Potter, sir!' with every order. By dusk the reply had come. Neville would be honored to accept the gift. He agreed that the pup would be good company for his Gran. Neville, it seemed, had always wanted a dog.
All's well that ends well, right? Harry breathed a sigh of relief and tried to stifle the stab of guilt as he convinced the order member on 'minding duty' to deliver the beagle that night. Harry then spent the remainder of the evening digging a hole in the backyard for the pond. The act of shoveling dirt cleared his mind better than occlumency practice. He didn't want to think too much about his letter to Neville.
On the morning of the fourth day Dudley weighed in. He was four pounds down and Harry was one book up with a pound credit to the next one. Uncle Vernon was so pleased that he even allowed Harry his coveted Potions text and agreed to purchase a water pump for a fountain in the backyard pond.
That same day Dudley brought home a Irish Setter-Golden Retriever mixed puppy. He also began to grumble about the quantities and types of food he was allowed. He was tired of eating just meat and cheese. Couldn't he just have a potato? It was a vegetable after all. Harry launched into a lecture on what foods fulfilled the Atkins diet while he tried to figure out what to do with the retriever pup before Aunt Petunia came home. She had not reacted well earlier to finding animal hair on the inside of Dudley's shirts. Harry didn't want to listen to that diatribe again. Ever. She was expected within the half-hour.
In desperation, Harry he wrote out a tag claiming that the 'soft, golden red color of the puppy had reminded him of her hair'. He attached the tag to the pup with a wide yellow ribbon nicked from craft box. He carefully packed the dog into a covered basket and sent it with Mundungus Fletcher to Ginny Weasley as a gift. All girls like puppies, didn't they? This dog's cuddly nature would certainly appeal to his friend while the open spaces of the Burrow would provide an excellent area to raise a large dog. Harry hoped that Mrs. Weasley had a soft spot for puppies too. He didn't fancy a Howler in return.
Harry warned Dudley that he had better not bring home anymore animals. That last delivery cost him five galleons to bribe Mundungus. Harry was getting tired of fixing his cousin's problems.
That night, Dudley staged open rebellion by foregoing his studies to watch a movie with his Dad. Harry watched powerless as Dudley ate popcorn on the couch with his beaming father. That night Harry frantically completed his Potion's essay. He wasn't sure how the next day would go but knew who would shoulder any blame.
Sure enough, the next morning Harry found Dudley asleep on the living room couch surrounded by crisp packets and biscuit crumbs. Cans of soda cluttered the side tables. Dudley had binged and binged well last night.
Uncle Vernon had a lot to say on the matter. He ruthlessly ripped the Potion's text from Harry's clutching hand while casting crippling phrases of blame. "You stupid boy! I put you in charge of Dudley. Look at him! This is your fault," Vernon yelled his mustache bristling. "I should have know better than to trust you."
Harry knew that Dudley's binge wasn't his fault. The words still hurt enough to make him frantically scramble for distraction. The pond, he would finish installing the pond today. Vernon stomped from the room with a parting shot, "You'd better get this mess cleared up or there will be hell to pay!"
At least it is a Saturday, Harry reflected looking at his sleeping cousin in disgust. There was no work at the shelter to worry about. Dudley had only Monday left to complete his 15 hours required. The object of Harry's contemplation gave a little grunt and hefted his bulk onto one side. Snarling, Harry grabbed a handful of shirt and pants and tried to pull his cousin off the couch. Dudley barely shifted at all.
Breathing hard from both effort and frustration, Harry shifted from pulling to pushing. Punctuating his words with downward shoves, Harry bounced his cousin into wakefulness. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" The couch springs groaned from the strain. Dudley stirred sleepily.
"Get up you prat!" Harry added a back and forward rocking to his measured bounce. His arms were starting to ache from the motion.
"Stop! I'm gonna be sick," Dudley groaned long and mournful. The heavier boy did indeed look ghastly green. "What happened?"
"You just blew four day's diet, that's what happened," Harry spat as he finally let go. "I hope you liked losing those four pounds because you're going to have to do it all over again!"
Dudley struggled to sit up. A half eaten bag of pretzels crunched noisily under one ponderous thigh. "I was just celebrating. I didn't eat that much. I deserve a celebration after all my hard work," he said.
"Your hard work. You didn't eat much. You were just celebrating." Harry kicked a empty can right at Dudley's shin. "It's time you stop thinking about 'you' and starting fixing the mess you are in."
Dudley rubbed his shin moodily. "I have been fixing things. The Cat Lady is happy, right?"
"Mrs. Figg, Dudley, her name is Mrs. Figg. She's only been your neighbor your whole life," Harry sneered. "Yeah, you fixed things so I have a whole day of yard work at her house to get her to take that second kitten. Thanks loads!"
"I thought you liked to work outside. You do it all the time." Dudley tried to stand but stopped to pick at pretzel bits stuck to his arm.
Harry just stared. How could he explain why he did so many chores to his clueless cousin? Dudley wouldn't be able to comprehend the dynamics of his life. Harry wasn't sure he could explain if he tried.
"You do this again and I'm done with you," Harry said quietly. Dudley looked up surprised. Harry turned and walked away saying, "and get this mess cleared up or there will be hell to pay!"
The rest of the morning was spent laying the pond bottom. A layer of contoured sand formed the foundation followed by heavy, flexible plastic. Uncertain if the pond would ever have a fountain, Harry built in an intake tube fashioned from leftover piping just in case. The plastic at the edges of the pool was weighted down by heavy stones and covered with dirt creating an irregular circle. While he worked, the sun beat unrelentingly hot on his bare back.
"You're getting very red," Dudley's voice drawled not two inches from his bowed head.
Jumping at the sudden voice, Harry raised up from his bent position and sat back on his knees. Dudley was sitting on an overturned bucket drinking a glass of something dark and full of ice. Reaching forward, Harry rudely snatched the glass from Dudley's hands and drank the liquid down.
"Hey, that's mine! It's Diet Coke, you know," Dudley whined but didn't try to retake the glass.
"Like I care. It's better than many things I've had to drink." Harry shook the ice trying for the last bit of moisture. "Thank you for the drink."
"Don't thank me, I didn't have a choice, you thief." Taking the glass back, Dudley refilled it from the rest of a silver can sitting beside the bucket. After a moment's hesitation, he handed the drink back. "You look thirsty. Can't have the 'Warden' passing out from too much sun. Here."
Surprised, Harry took the drink and saluted his cousin as he downed the rest. He had been parched. The last dregs consumed, he fished out a large ice cube to suck.
"You don't need to drink diet stuff. Look at you, I can count every rib. How do you stay so thin?" Dudley was eyeing Harry critically.
"I'm a growing boy, my mouth can't keep up with my body." Harry wiped the sweat from his face on his discarded shirt. He bent over to finish the drain.
"Who is Ginny? Your girlfriend?" Harry heard Dudley crack open another soda can. No wonder he didn't mind about the first one.
"Nah, she's just a friend. Why do you ask?"
"Not anymore. Listen to this," Dudley cleared his throat and continued in a falsetto voice. "Dear Harry, How wonderful of you to send me such a gift. I named him Seeker after you. When you come to the Burrow we can take him on long walks together," Dudley paused snickering. "How did you know that yellow is my favorite color? It's also the symbol for affection and fidelity, you know."
"What?" Harry froze mid-dig in fear. "Are you making this up?"
"Hardly, I'm reading the letter than little owl brought," Dudley snorted. "I'll wear the ribbon in my hair the next time we meet. What did you do to her? Send her a love letter?" Harry looked up to see Dudley waving a piece of paper, his letter, around in the air.
"You're reading my mail?" Harry was incredulous.
"Right in one, Potter," Dudley grinned as he smelled the parchment. "Do I smell...lilacs?"
"Give me that!" Harry lurched out of the hole lunging for the letter. Dudley tried to keep it away but he wasn't fast enough. Harry read the letter silently. Dudley's rendition had been accurate. "This has to be some kind of a joke. Ginny would never write this."
"What did you do, Romeo? What's with the yellow ribbon?" Dudley chugged the last of his diet soda loudly crumpling the can. "I like yellow too. Maybe you should plant some daffodils back here."
"I sent Ginny the retriever puppy with a yellow ribbon around his neck. It was all I could find to secure the tag. And daffodils grow better in the spring." Did Dudley just make a garden suggestion? It was too hot for daffodils but he could plant yellow daisies or even a golden iris. Harry was torn between the ominous letter and the escape of the flower beds.
Dudley made the choice for him. "Let me get this straight. You sent this Ginny girl a cute, cuddly puppy as a gift after tying a nice yellow ribbon around his neck? What did the tag say?"
"Only that his fur reminded me of her hair," Harry trailed off with growing realization. He had send her something of a love letter. Oh no!
"And here I thought I was the stupid one! She thinks you've just declared your intentions. Oh ho, this is too funny," Dudley crowed followed by making kissing noises.
"Sod off, you prat!" Harry read the letter again but the words hadn't changed. Either this was a prank from Ron or Ginny did think he had 'declared his intentions'.
"Make me you puny wimp! What's the problem anyway? Is she real ugly or something?" Dudley heaved his bulk up off the bucket.
"No, she's lovely," Harry said quietly. The real question was, where did he go from here?
"Then count yourself lucky and go along for the ride. Are you done yet? With this nice hole you've dug, I mean." Dudley was walking in small circles trying to inspect the impression the bucket made on his rear end.
Harry sighed but got up too. "Yeah, I'm done. I need to find out if your Dad is going to buy that pump for a fountain. It will be easier to hook up before the pond is filled."
"What if I just gave you the money now. Would that make you happy?" Dudley finished his circling and swayed dizzily.
Suspicious, Harry asked, "Why would you do that? You don't care about that contest. What do you want in return?"
Dudley rolled his eyes, "What makes you think I want anything? I'm trying to be nice. Besides, it would make Mum happy to win 'Best Garden'. She's been a bit barmy lately and it would be good for her."
"I know you, Dudikins," Harry warned, the disbelief thick in his voice.
"Fine. If you must know I'm having a bit of trouble with this whole diet thing," Dudley replied. "I was hoping you could use your, uh, special abilities to fix things." Dudley waggled his fingers for emphasis. "You know, use your thingy to make the weight disappear."
"You know I can't use magic away from school. Even if I could, I don't think you'd like me to banish away all that fat. Think of the wound it would leave behind," Harry shuddered at the vision of Dudley bleeding from his middle.
"Well, there's got to be something that can help. This whole thing is too hard!"
Harry hated it when Dudley whined. It was like finger nails on a chalkboard. "I do have a potion recipe for weight loss, " Harry ventured reluctantly.
"Brilliant! Let's go get it." With that, Dudley started waddling back toward the house.
"Wait, " Harry called, "I have to make it, but I don't have my school stuff."
Dudley turned. "Is that all? So go get it. Hurry man!"
"You don't understand, your Dad has locked my trunk in the cupboard under the stairs. We have to convince him to let me have it. You know he'll never agree. He hates magic," Harry hedged.
"He doesn't have to know," Dudley continued on into the house.
"If he finds out I'll be the one to pay, not you!" Harry felt stupid yelling at the house while still in the backyard. Picking up the bucket and soda cans he went into the house too. Dudley was already at work picking the lock on the cupboard door.
"He won't find out," Dudley said. "He's gone to a company picnic with Mum."
"How come you didn't go?" Harry wondered.
"Because I'm now an embarrassment to the family, dip-wad. I'll get your bloody trunk. You just make that... thingy," Dudley made wide, unintelligible gestures with his arms.
"I'm overwhelmed with your technical knowledge, Dud. Thingy? Do you mean potion?" Little warning bells shot off in Harry's head. His uncle had a sixth sense for when that closet had been breeched. There was also the little matter of Snape's potion warning. His greasy haired professor gave up the answer to his question way too easily. The more Harry thought about the potion the more suspicious he felt. Snape had left something off in the warning, he was sure. Too bad Hermione was already gone to Australia, she could have researched it for him.
Harry looked around while he waited. Amazingly enough, Dudley had actually cleaned up the living room. The carpet needed sweeping but all the wrappers and cans were picked up. Harry fetched the carpet sweeper from the kitchen cupboard after drinking two glasses of water. He really was parched.
It didn't take long to run the carpet sweeper over the expanse of floor. The back and forth shoulder motion made Harry very aware of the sunburn across his back. He better put his shirt back on for the rest of the day.
As Harry was replacing the sweeper back into the kitchen he heard an odd muffled noise. He checked out front, but no one was in the drive. A glance through the kitchen window showed that no one was in the backyard. He stood very still and listened again. There! It was coming from.. from.. from the hallway!
Paralyzed by the sight, Harry gaped at the entrance to the cupboard under the stairs. Dudley had gotten on all fours to crawl into the small space but hadn't been able to back out again. His tubby cousin was stuck in the doorway, arse end out. Harry started to laugh. This was too much!
More muffled yells ensued followed by frantic butt wiggles. Chunky knees scrabbled for purchase Dudley tried to get out the space. It was no use. Dudley was well and truly stuck.
Snickering, Harry walked up to the doorway and listened. He heard faint but clearly, "You get me out of here, NOW!" Dudley knew he was back there.
Harry yelled back "Brilliant idea, Dud! We'll just leave you stuck there until you lose enough weight to get out on your own! I'll get a camera."
The mass lodged in the cupboard frame really started to thrash, not that it was doing any good. Dudley didn't appear agreeable for a photograph either. The panicked movements worried Harry. What if he really hurt himself? Harry called out, "Relax Dudley, I don't even own a camera. Hold still and let me see if I can get you out."
The lower half of Dudley stilled except for heavy breathing. Apparently getting stuck in small places proved aerobic. Harry examined all edges of the frame using his hands to feel for gaps. Wads of Dudley bulged on both sides of the wood leaving no room for a handhold.. In fact, the only place that wasn't taken up by his cousin was a space between his knees. There was no way Harry was going to put his hand there!
"Try laying down. Maybe then you can wiggle out," Harry suggested.
One large leg extended carefully backward. With a audible grunt the other leg did likewise. Now Dudley looked like he was doing pushups but without the up and down motion. Harry pushed down hard on the only bit of back that was exposed. The only reward was a scream of anguish. The arse didn't move at all.
"Stop stop stop stop stop!"
Harry stopped perplexed. "I think we have to call for help. Would you rather I call your Dad or the Fire Department?"
"No! Don't call Dad! That would be horrible. Don't call the Fire Department either. That would get in the papers. YOU have to get me out, Harry. PLEASE!" Dudley was practically crying.
"Calm down and let me think," Harry said soothingly. He was tempted to give Dudley a comforting pat, but there were very few safe places to lay his hand.
"Harry, I have to go to the bathroom!"
"Hang on. I'm going to try pulling you. If that doesn't work I'll call Mr. Weasley. Be right back," Harry said as he got up and retrieved a large bottle of cooking oil and a few towels from the kitchen.
"This will be...wet." With that, Harry poured a good amount of oil all around the edges of the door frame, then poured some more on Dudley himself. He spread the oil everywhere it might help. Then after wiping his hands carefully on one of the towels, Harry grabbed one heavy leg while bracing against the wall. "I'm going to pull on three, ok?"
"Hurry!"
"Here we go. One. Two. Three!" At the count, Harry gripped Dudley's leg and pulled backward with all his might. When he felt Dudley budge a few millimeters, he doubled his efforts putting more push into his braced leg. Dudley screamed and then came flying out.
And landed right on top of Harry.
Luck would have it that the oil dripped to the exact spot Harry's foot resided during the extraction procedure. Slipping on the oil, Harry lost his footing and landed heavily on his back just in time to provide a soft landing for Dudley. And what a landing it was.
Harry must have blacked out for a few seconds because when he woke all was in darkness. Unable to breathe, Harry struggled to get out from under the ponderous weight killing him. He was only partially successful. Two great legs parted falling to either side of Harry head. There, in very close proximity to his chin, was the crotch of Dudley's pants. Ewwwww!
"Get off," Harry gasped, "can't breathe!"
Dudley moaned and stirred a bit. Horrified, Harry felt movement against his own nether regions. Seemed that Dudley had the same view Harry did. Shuddering at the absurdity of their predicament, Harry managed to get both arms up against Dudley's middle and rolled his cousin off to one side. Panting, Harry laid there breathing sweet air.
"You're going to have to get the trunk yourself. I'm not going back in there," Dudley rasped panting. "How the bloody hell did you ever manage to sleep in there? It's so small!"
"It wasn't my idea. We did used to be smaller you know." Harry wondered if little Duddykins would have fit in his cupboard even at the age of five. No, probably not. "Are you all right? You were really stuck." Harry sat up to assess the damage.
Other than oil glistening everywhere, there was no physical damage to the doorway. Dudley looked a soggy mess, but there was no blood visible. A little cleanup and no one would know. Harry watched Dudley struggle to sit up and check his sides. There was a little scraping but nothing severe.
Harry stood up slipping a little on the spilt oil. He heaved the trunk out in the hallway and removed his cauldron, brewing implements and the needed ingredients. Wiping the trunk free of oil with the towels, Harry shoved the trunk back to the same position in the cupboard. Hopefully Uncle Vernon wouldn't notice that anything was missing or moved.
His back cracking loudly as he stood, Harry picked up the potion tools. "I'd better get started with this. I'll have to use the stove top to brew, but we can cool the mixture in my room. Can you get this mess cleaned up? I won't have time. Don't forget to wipe up every spot on the door."
Dudley looked totally disgusted, "How do you get this stuff up? It's slimy!"
"Try some spray cleaner and paper towels," Harry advised. "You probably should clean yourself up first. Bring down those clothes and I'll toss them in the washer."
"Right," Dudley started to chuckle, "that was pretty funny, wasn't it?" Harry laughed all the way to the kitchen.
Dudley didn't show up in the kitchen for a couple of hours. Harry hoped that he was doing a good job. The potion on the stove needed to simmer just three more minutes. The last ingredient, ground flax seed, had to be stirred in quickly then, the whole thing needed to completely cool. The recipe stated that the potion was best taken first thing in the morning in a hot liquid like tea. Dose required daily until goal weight was achieved.
"Phew! What's that stench?" Dudley finally made an appearance.
"Your weight loss potion. Isn't it appetizing?" Harry grinned as Dudley made a face at the contents of the cauldron.
"Mum's going to have a fit at this smell," Dudley warned. "I'm starving. What can I have for lunch?"
"How about you make up a salad for both of us with that leftover chicken in the ice box?" Harry added the flax seed and stirred vigorously. The potion bubbled and turned clear. Perfect.
"How do you make salad?" Dudley was starting at the open refrigerator. "Is it hard?"
Removing the cauldron from the burner, Harry replied, "You just take out the lettuce and tear it up in bite-sized pieces. Then you cut up a cucumber, a tomato, and chicken and sprinkle them on top. You've never made a salad before?"
"I've never made anything before," Dudley ventured. "I never cleaned up the living room before this morning and I had no idea that there was such a thing as spray cleaner either."
"How are you going to take care of yourself after you move out? You're going to have to learn, Dudley," Harry said softly. He had never considered how Aunt Petunia's babying of Dudley might not prepare him for the real world.
"I never thought about that. I figured I'd always live here on Privet Drive." Dudley looked dumbfounded. It was obvious he had never considered his future. "Do you think I'll have to get a job?"
"Yes Dudley, everyone has to work," Harry said wearily.
Lunch turned out fairly good. Dudley was as proud of his chicken salad as any chef of a six course meal. Harry poured the cooling potion into an empty bottle and hid it in his room. He even got his brewing equipment back into place being careful to relock the cupboard door.
The smell in the kitchen proved more troublesome. After repeated applications of air freshener, the odor remained. Harry decided to cook marinara sauce with extra garlic for dinner to mask the smell. Dudley could eat his sauce over broccoli instead of pasta. Harry also added garlic to the chicken. The whole house fairly reeked of the stuff.
"It smells like bloody Italians live here," Uncle Vernon roared when he entered the house.
"Garlic is good for weight loss," Harry placated while serving up the meal. "It's good for your blood pressure too."
"Not so loud, dear. Do you want the neighbors to hear?" Aunt Petunia seemed calmer today. She made no comment on the smell as she filled Dudley's plate.
"No pasta, Aunt Petunia," Harry said. "Just put sauce on the broccoli and chicken both. I read about this in a magazine."
"Nonsense! Dudley needs his strength. He can't just eat chicken and broccoli." Petunia reached over to add pasta to the plate.
"No pasta Mum," Dudley said firmly. "I'm going to lose those two stones." Petunia sputtered at the comment but refrained from adding pasta to the plate.
"Good for you son," Vernon approved giving Harry a side wise glance. "Good to see you right on track."
The next morning came much too soon. All of the muscles in Harry's back were very sore. It was a good thing the pond was nearly finished. Groaning from the effort, Harry heaved himself out of bed. He dressed quickly, pocketed the potion and headed for the backyard.
It had rained last night clearing the air. Splattered raindrops combined with heavy dew dripped from bushes and trees. Harry settled down on the back step yawning, when a sudden movement caught his eye. A potato-like creature was trundling over the stones ringing the pond. It was a gnome! Harry grinned. There was another one pulling a flower bulb out by the stem! The grin faded. Harry had forgotten why Mrs. Weasley insisted on have the garden degnomed. The little creatures ate flower bulbs and plant roots. Well, he'd just have to keep planting flowers ahead of their appetites!
Noise inside the kitchen let Harry know someone was up. He rose to make breakfast and found both Uncle Vernon and Dudley sitting at the table. Neither one looked happy with the other. Harry started boiling water for the tea. The silence was oppressive.
Vernon spoke first, "Seems that Dudley here gained back one of the pounds he lost." Dudley only glowered in return. Vernon continued, "He seems to think that he's got matters under control despite that."
"Three pounds in one week is a very good result, Uncle Vernon," Harry responded.
"I expected more. He's only got nine more weeks to lose the rest," Vernon declared as if the Harry couldn't do the math.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon. And at three pounds per week he'll meet his goal."
"And don't you forget his studies. If he doesn't pass those exams you'll be right here with him until he does," Vernon spat red faced. "I don't care if it takes until Christmas! If Dudley can't go back to school you can't either."
"That's hardly fair," Harry cried.
"I don't care. That's my final word on the matter," Vernon muttered opening his paper. "And you need to walk earlier when no one else is up. I won't have Dudley be seen walking about the neighborhood with my no-good nephew."
This time Dudley spoke up, "Dad! Harry hasn't done anything at all. This is all my fault."
Whoa! thought Harry. Did Dudley just admit he was to blame? To his Dad no less? AND he stuck up for me? Harry shook his head in wonder.
"Where's my tea?" Vernon bellowed totally ignoring his son.
Harry got up and fixed a large pot. Setting out three filled cups on the table, he slipped the potion bottle to Dudley. "Put in one spoonful and drink while hot," Harry whispered. He laid a spoon next to the poured tea.
Dudley looked grumpy and rebellious. He was still steaming from the insulting behavior of his father. Harry watched him stare at the newspaper hiding Vernon from view. "Go on. Do it, " Harry whispered again making pouring motions. Dudley uncapped the bottle and sniffed the contents.
Behind the paper Vernon yelled, "Where's my breakfast! Does a man have to starve around here on a Sunday?"
Dudley looked at the potion, then he looked at his tea, then he looked at his father. With an evil smirk, Dudley reached over an poured a big splat of weight loss potion into his father's tea. Harry moved to stop him, but at that moment Uncle Vernon picked up the cup and took a long drink.
Harry held his breath. Dudley did too. Uncle Vernon took another long drink before setting the cup down. "Breakfast, Harry!"
Harry turned and pulled out the frying pan. The potion must not taste bad because Uncle Vernon hadn't noticed it at all. Harry cooked sausages, bacon, tomatoes and eggs for his uncle just like he always did. This morning he scrambled egg substitutes with a little bacon for Dudley as well. He served the two their respective plates. Turning to make toast, his aunt entered the kitchen.
"Vernon dear, what's wrong?" Harry heard her exclaim.
Spinning sharply, Harry saw that Uncle Vernon had the oddest expression on his face. His fork was half way to his mouth holding a half eaten sausage. Loud as a vacuum cleaner, his uncle's stomach gave a mighty rumble. Vernon jumped from his seat knocking the chair over, his face growing white. "Excuse me a moment, Petunia," he strained while bolting from the room.
The three of them, Harry, Dudley and Petunia, watched in amazement while Vernon ran straight into the downstairs bathroom and slammed the door. They all listened as loud moans and groans drifted from that direction broken only by the flush of the commode. Harry counted four flushes, wincing. What had Snape warned? Intestinal indisposition? He hoped it was only temporary.
Elbowing his guilty cousin Harry hissed quietly, "This is your fault. What did you do that for?"
"He deserved it. Besides, I wanted to how that thingy worked," Dudley elbowed back.
"You gave him too much!" Harry glanced at his aunt to see if she noticed the exchange. Her attention was completely fixed on the bathroom door.
"It'll wear off. Right?" Dudley said shrugging.
Just then the bathroom door opened. Uncle Vernon stumbled out looking rather ill. "Must be the picnic food from yesterday. Never should have eaten that potato salad with kippers!" Suddenly Harry smelt it, that same smell the potion gave off while brewing, only ten times worse. Foul smelling air roiled from out of the bathroom to fill the entire downstairs.
Aunt Petunia gagged. "Maybe you should see the doctor," she suggested. "Let me get some candles."
"I'll be fine. It's just a bad bit of food. No need..." Vernon trailed off before rushing back into the bathroom. His moans were even louder than before.
Harry felt the cool glass of the potion bottle being slipped into his hand. "No way I'm going to take that now," Dudley insisted. "I'll try something else."
"I'll tell you what Dudley, I'll hold on to this little bottle against your next screw up. You have another binge like you did the other night and I'll spike everything you eat with this stuff," Harry smirked.
Dudley looked worried even as he agreed.
TBC