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 My kids are demanding more dialogue. It's easier to read, they say. I like the celebrity status this story has won me in my own home. The two of them are very impressed that I can write this many words (not necessarily that the words are great, but I do get a laugh or two). I'm also happy that now the kids can't complain 'Nobody can write more than five paragraphs!' when confronted with their homework! I hope you enjoy this 'dialogue improved' chapter. Well, at least the first part has more dialogue.
Cabbage Soup Anyone?
Dudley didn't give Harry any more trouble that day. Shortly after lunch, Aunt Petunia shooed both boys out of the house so her ailing husband could rest. The teens were happy to oblige as the house smelled terrible. They walked to the local hardware store to buy a pump in the heat of the afternoon. Harry figured the round trip distance could count as the day's exercise quota. Dudley brought the promised cash to make the pump purchase.
"Can we stop for ice cream, Harry?" Dudley asked hopefully. The fabric of Dudley's shorts made a swishing sound as he walked.
"You know you can't have any. Besides, I'm broke." Because I gave Dung my last galleon, Harry thought morosely.
"Dr. Atkins says I can too have ice cream," Dudley whined.
"That's only after the initial two weeks. Last time I checked it's only been five days. Since when have you been talking to Dr. Atkins?" Harry wiped sweat from his forehead. "You can have ice water." Actually, that sounded really good.
"Prat. What if I switch diets? Can I have ice cream then?" Dudley persisted.
"To which one?" Harry kicked at a small rock in the road trying to see how far it would travel.
"How about Slim Fast? That sounds promising," Dudley replied taking his own turn at the rock. The extra effort caused the material in his shorts to ride up between his thighs.
"That's a shake diet. Do you think you can do that?" Harry nudged his cousin and motioned at bunched shorts. He took another kick at the rock but must have missed because it didn't skitter ahead.
Dudley pulled the receding material back down with a jiggle of thigh. "What, have a shake with every meal? Sure!"
"No, Dudley, as a meal. That's all you get," Harry snorted wiping sweat from his forehead. It was too hot to exist. He should have given in on the ice cream first thing.
"Bugger. How about Dolly Parton's diet?" Dudley's rustling shorts were back, swish swish swish swish . . .
"You have to eat loads of watermelon on that one. You hate watermelon. Just who is Dolly Parton anyway?" Harry asked starting to limp. There was something in his shoe.
"She's that country western singer with the big . . . ," Dudley made cups with his hand and stretched them way out in front of his chest.
"Yeah, right. I remember now. Why don't you try cabbage soup diet? You can eat all of the soup you want. After three days you get to add bananas and milk. On the seventh day you get steak." Harry stopped and examined his shoe. The rock he had supposedly missed was lodged in the toe of his worn trainers. Harry steadied himself against Dudley's arm while he picked out the stone. He nodded his thanks and the two continued.
"I like all-you-can-eat and I like steak. Can we put steak in the cabbage soup?" Dudley brightened.
"Not a chance," Harry intoned while staring at his shoe. The bottom was coming away from the top. The two pieces flopped distressingly as they walked. Maybe the hardware store would give him a string to tie the separation. "You have to follow the diet exactly or it won't work right."
"I want to try that one. I like cabbage. Can you put potatoes in the soup?" Dudley asked. "You need new shoes," he said pointing at Harry's flapping trainers.
Harry only grunted in return. The flapping was irritating, much worse than the sound of Dudley's shorts. Maybe he could request some Muggle money from Gringotts to buy a new pair. Other bits of road debris infiltrated the open fissure. Harry had to stop several times to empty his shoe. On one of the stops, Dudley reached over and slapped Harry hard on the back.
"Ahhhhh! What was that for?" Harry screamed arching his shoulders back in pain.
"Just checking to see if your sunburn was still painful," Dudley smirked. "You really ought to use sun block lotion. How's your shoulder? Burnt too?" Raising one meaty hand to slap Harry's shoulders, Dudley laughed as his cousin shied back in alarm. The broken sole of Harry's worn shoe audibly split further revealing half his foot.
"You keep that up and I'll spike your afternoon tea!" Harry growled as he removed the offending shoe. His back stung, Dudley's slap had been really painful. He would have to remember to sneak Aunt Petunia's sun block this afternoon. The shoe was a loss. Mournfully, he removed the lace, put the shoe back on and tied the whole thing together with the lace. The process took a few minutes adjusting the shoe lace so the pitiful mess wouldn't fall off.
After a long silence Dudley asked, "What's it like at your school?"
Harry pondered his answer carefully. How much could he say and not break this strange, new rapport they held? Even the sunburn slap was more comradely than mean. "I share a dormitory with four other blokes. It's very old fashioned. The beds all have curtains." Harry looked at his cousin trying to glean the reason behind the question.
"That's not what I want to know. Are those Demeaner things there?" Dudley queried keeping his eyes lowered on the road. His cheeks were very red, but then it could just be the sun.
"Dementors, they're called Dementors," Harry replied carefully. "No, they guard Azkaban Prison."
"Horrible those," Dudley shuddered. "What do you have to do to get put in prison?"
"Well, one thing is to use magic in front of Muggles, I mean normal people." Harry stopped to pick out another small stick from his wounded shoe. "Why don't we talk about something else?"
"You used magic in front of me back then. You know, to drive those D-thingys away. Why didn't you go to prison?" Dudley took advantage of Harry's stop to sit under a shade tree.
Harry scuffed his good shoe. "The Ministry tried, but I was able to prove it was self-defense. The Magic Secrecy Act doesn't apply to family members. My crime was using magic away from school."
"Stupid rule," Dudley said fanning himself. The heavier boy was sweating profusely.
Harry nodded. He reached over to help his cousin up hoping the conversation was at an end. No such luck.
"Sometimes I think that night didn't really happen. The whole thing seems like a nightmare," Dudley ventured while heading back down the road. "It was like my whole life was flashing before my eyes. All the bad parts, that is."
Harry had to ask, "What did you see, Dudley, when the Dementors were giving you nightmares?"
"See? Nothing, but I dreamed of lots of things like the time when Mum left me behind at the store and when I had ants crawling down my pants at the beach. The worst was when I was picked on by the kids at school . . . ," Dudley trailed off lost in thought.
"When did kids pick on you at school?" Harry asked incredulously.
"All the time! Kids were always out to get me. At least until I stopped them. What are you on about? You were there," Dudley exclaimed.
"I don't remember you getting picked on. Well, not after that first year. I remember that one girl teasing you about your shirt being too small, but you punched her in the nose. Made it bleed too," Harry returned.
"Like I said, they picked on me until I stopped them." Dudley looked fiercely satisfied with himself. Turning to Harry, Dudley asked, "What nightmares do those things give you?"
Harry was bothered by the knowledge that Dudley might have turned into a bully because he thought everyone was picking on him. "I hear my mother screaming the night she was killed," he answered truthfully.
"Really?" Dudley was morbidly curious. "It must be horrible. Did she really get blown up?"
Harry couldn't believe he was talking about this yet his mouth answered, "No, she was killed by a dark wizard with tremendous power."
"Maybe he blew her up!" Dudley enthused disgustingly.
"Dudley! I don't want to talk about this," Harry snapped.
"Fine, sorry I asked. What was her name anyway? Mum never said." Dudley continued down the road totally unfazed by Harry's discomfort.
"Lily, her name was Lily," Harry answered gratefully at the change of subject.
"Oh, another flower name like Mum. Why don't you put some lily-pads in the pond? That would be nice," Dudley prattled on, his shorts swishing again.
"That would be really nice," Harry smiled.
The owner of the hardware store took pity on the two sweating youth and provided large glasses of ice water. Dudley even remembered to say 'thank you' without prompting. Harry bought the pump and tubing he needed for the backyard pond. Instead of a packaged statue, he was planning on creating his own fountain with more of those stones that ringed the perimeter. The tubing would push water up through the stones making it look like water was bubbling out of the ground. Harry hoped he had enough stones left.
After buying the pump, Harry steered Dudley straight over to the paint section. Practically twisting his cousin's arm, Harry made Dudley buy the right color paint to cover the graffiti on the police station door. The curse words had been blacked out already, but the door was still marred.
"I can't do that. Somebody will see!" Dudley shrieked.
"They'll see you making an amends and appreciate it," Harry stated flatly.
"What if a reporter comes by? What if they take a picture?" Dudley was nearing panic looking all around as if reporters were lurking nearby.
"Then you'll smile for the camera and tell them how you are making things better. Then they'll print a new story on how rehabilitated you have become. Buy a couple of brushes too," Harry prompted. "You are going to fix everything you did wrong, Dudley. Count on it." This time it was Harry that looked fiercely satisfied.
Harry made Dudley carry the paint can all the way to the police station. Then he made Dudley go in and ask the officer in charge if he could repair the paint on the front door someday this week. The office in charge asked Dudley a few questions that mostly Harry replied to, inspected the paint, and allowed that Tuesday afternoon would be a good time for paint to dry. He would expect Dudley promptly at three that day.
Dudley was subdued during the interrogation. He was surprised when the officer slapped him on the back saying, "That's a good lad! Fixing our door is the right thing to do." Dudley nodded in amazement.
The walk back home lacked conversation. Harry was absorbed in keeping stuff out of his gaping shoe. He had forgotten to reenforce it back at the hardware store. Dudley was lost in thought as well. When they got to Privet Drive, Harry went to the backyard to work on the pond while Dudley headed inside for a snack.
Harry sighed in relief. He stood by the half-finished pond reveling in the solitude. It was nice to have some time alone. Unwrapping the pump, he pulled out the instructions. The English translation was finally found after pages of Chinese, French, and German.
"Install pump above ground allowing for substantial airflow," he read aloud. No problem, he could build a partial box to cover the pump at the edge of the pool. He continued, "Attach intake tube to large male coupler. Attach outflow tube to small male coupler. Secure outflow tube into fountain placing end of tube where the water should flow." Easy enough. This was a breeze!
Harry read on, "Wire the pump into the electrical lines being sure to ground the circuit." What was that? He read it again. What electrical line? What circuit? How do you 'ground' it? Harry assumed the pump would just plug in somewhere. He knew nothing about electricity except to stay away from it. Worriedly, he flipped to the next page looking for salvation from his technology ignorance. There was just more instructions in Spanish. Bollocks!
Wanting to rip the multilingual booklet to shreds, he heard Dudley come out the back door.
"Mum wants you to go to the store for more candles," Dudley said in a bored tone. "Dad isn't feeling any better and the whole house stinks."
"Can you go? I'm kind of in the middle of . . . this," Harry gestured at the pieces of pump scattered about the ground.
"You want ME to go to the store?" Dudley asked in wide-eyed alarm. "What if I buy candy bars while I'm there?" He quickly stuck both hands in his over large pockets as if to hide them from temptation.
"So don't look at the candy," Harry replied turning his attention back to the instructions. Maybe a diagram would help.
"What if I can't help myself," came the anguished reply.
"No one's going to make you buy a candy bar. Just walk away." Harry gave a cry of frustration and threw the booklet to the ground. He was going to have to ask for help, but from whom?
"Easy for you to say," Dudley scoffed. "What's the matter with you? Did you girlfriend already dump out?"
Harry snorted, the idea of him with a girl friend was ludicrous. "Ginny's not my girlfriend, I told you," he said. "This pump has to be wired into an electrical line and I don't know where one is or how to do it."
"You have to lay a line in from the garden shed and wire it directly. What's the problem?" Dudley reached down to grab the cast off instructions. "This is pretty clear. Ought to take you a couple of hours if the stuff is in the shed."
"You know how to do this?" Harry asked. "How? Do you have any experience? Where did you learn?" The thought that Dudley actually knew something useful was astounding. Harry knew his cousin wasn't as stupid as people thought, but he never imagined actual knowledge.
"I have a Construction and Engineering class at Smelting. It's just shop class really, with a fancy title," Dudley shrugged. "It's the only class I passed with an Exceeds Expectation. I like working with my hands."
"Brilliant!" Harry's spirits lifted. "If we have the stuff, can you hook this pump up?" He felt like doing a little dance of joy. He could get his fountain working, maybe today!
"Suppose so, it's for Mum after all," Dudley mused. "Let's check the shed," he said excitedly heading off in the right direction. Harry followed quickly behind.
The garden shed held everything necessary for laying ground wires. Last Christmas, an electrical contractor was hired to install ventilation fans in the garden shed and left behind all extra supplies. The contractor had to run an power line from the house out to shed to do the job. Dudley said that he could use these supplies to run wires from the electrical box in the shed to the pump. But first Harry would have to dig a trench about ten centimeters square from the shed to the pond to lay the wires inside electrical piping. Once completed, the electrical piping would be buried.
It was decided that Harry would dig the trench and install the pump while Dudley went to the store for candles. Dashing back in the house for sun block, Harry quickly checked the refrigerator for the makings for cabbage soup. Aunt Petunia was sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea.
"Good afternoon, Aunt Petunia," said Harry pleasantly opening the refrigerator door. "How is Uncle Vernon doing?" The whole fairly reeked of that awful bathroom smell. He hoped the odor wouldn't make a permanent home in the carpet and drapes. Checking the vegetable bin he noticed there was plenty of cabbage.
"He's better than this morning but he's still unwell," Aunt Petunia snapped as Harry closed the door. She peered at him suspiciously. Leaning forward she asked, "What did you do to his breakfast?" Her long, boney fingers gripped the teacup painfully. Harry wondered if she would throw the cup at him.
"Just the usual things, Aunt Petunia. I made sausage, bacon, eggs and tomatoes just like everyday," he placated mildly. Harry knew the warning signs of a conniptions fit coming on and started edging for the back door.
"I think you poisoned him," Aunt Petunia said in a small tight voice. She looked a little wild-eyed. "Don't you touch that back door!"
Harry let go of the door knob raising his hand in front of him. "I didn't do anything to his breakfast. It was just regular food."
"So what were you doing in the refrigerator right now? Looking for the means to finish him off?" The questions started off quietly and ended with a ear piercing shrill. Harry winced.
"No. I was looking to see if I could make vegetable soup for Dudley's dinner. He's switching his diet," Harry said nervously. Aunt Petunia looked ready to blow. "He can eat as much as he wants of this soup." Luckily, his aunt softened at the mention of her precious son.
"Poor Dudley, so misunderstood, such a good son...," she trailed off. "Give me the recipe and I'll make it. I don't trust your cooking!" she spat.
Harry nodded and ran up to his room to fetch the recipe holding his nose the whole way. Lit candles lined every surface but did little to ease the smell. Harry could hear Uncle Vernon moaning loudly from the upstairs hall. His uncle didn't sound better to him. Tension gripped his middle as Harry contemplated that he had made the 'poison' his aunt accused him of even if the actual poisoner was Dudley. Regardless, he would have to fix this.
In his room, Harry stuffed the cabbage soup recipe in his pocket as he reached for parchment and a quill.
Dear Professor Snape,
Thank you for sending me the recipe for the weight loss potion. I was able to brew it without mishap, however, my uncle accidently ingested a large dose. Is there a counter potion or remedy? He appears to be suffering from severe diarrhea. Will the effects wear off quickly?
Gratefully Yours,
Harry Potter
That really hurt to write. Harry could just imagine Snape having a great laugh at his expense. The whole potion was probably a setup anyway. Harry tied the message to Hedwig's leg. The poor owl was hanging at the very edge of the open window to escape the penetrating stench. She launched out on the errand without hesitation.
Holding his breath, Harry ran back down stairs, tossed the recipe on the table next to his comatose aunt and dashed out the back door before she could react. Once outside, he exhaled loudly and took in great, gulping breaths of fresh air. That was better. Harry spent the next couple of hours digging the trench and building his rock pile fountain. His mind soothed with the monotonous motions of the back breaking work. It was good to be back in the garden.
The day started to wear on, the light dimmed in the west as Harry finished his tasks. Dudley finally lumbered out through the back door. He was trailing a small shopping bag in one hand.
"Whatcha got there, Dudley?" Harry asked stretching his back from the strain of digging. His spinal column answered the stretch with loud cracks. Most of his body was covered in sand and dirt. Digging trenches and building fountains was filthy work.
"I bought a candy bar at the store," Dudley said with a heavy sigh. "I couldn't resist." His portly cousin stopped next to the newly built fountain. The heavy stones were piled in an artful fashion against the one side of the pool. The water outflow tube barely peaked from beneath the top stone. The fountain would give the effect of an underground spring bubbling up water to fill the small pool. Dudley swung the small bag in his hand while he examined the design. "Nice," he commented.
"What about your diet? Are you prepared to throw away your life on a sweet?" Harry asked watching the swing of the bag.
Dudley snorted and tossed the bag at his cousin. "Nah, I just couldn't resist the buying it. Argued with myself all the way home about whether I should eat it or not." He watched intently as Harry caught the bag. "I guess I really do want to lose that weight."
Harry looked inside the bag. It contained a king-sized chocolate bar wrapped in gold foil. His stomach gave a growl at the sight. "Good job, I know it wasn't an easy decision to make."
"You might as well eat it, you skinny prat," Dudley sighed. "If it's still around later I might not be so strong. Besides, maybe I can get this pump hooked up before dark."
Dudley sat down heavily and started wiring the pump into the electrical lines laid in the trench. Harry sat on the upturned bucket and watched his cousin work while he made quick work of the chocolate bar. It was really good, full of nuts and caramel. He tried to eat quietly so not to cause a distraction.
After fifteen minutes or so, Dudley climbed heavily to his feet and waddled into the garden shed. Harry followed stuffing the candy wrapper deep into his pocket, Throwing the main breaker off, Dudley took the other end of the wires and quickly attached them to the main confidently. He capped off each one with a brightly colored piece of plastic. Then he threw the main breaker back on. The lights flickered once, then burned brightly. Closing the box he turned to Harry, "Let's go fill your pond and try it out."
"You'll have to fill in this trench tomorrow," Dudley instructed all business. Harry smiled at his cousin's behavior. Dudley all confident and serious was strange in a good way. He grabbed the garden hose and began to fill the pond.
Cricket song filled the evening stillness as darkness crept over the backyard. Harry and Dudley stood side by side watching the pond fill. Fireflies danced around the flower beds flashing beacons of hope for future mates. Harry heard the back door open just as he was turning off the water.
"Cabbage soup anyone?" Aunt Petunia called out the open door.
"Just a minute, Mum," Dudley answered. "I want to see if the fountain works."
Reaching over, Harry flicked the pump on. A loud gurgling answered accompanied the hum of the pump. Water surged out the fountain top twice then settled into a steady stream. The pump worked!
For 30 beautiful seconds all was right in the world. Water gurgled soothingly into a perfect pond. The satisfaction of a job well done hung in the air. Harry sighed in contentment. Aunt Petunia came out the backdoor to admire the pool. She was actually smiling.
Then there was a loud pop, a flash of sparks and the pump went abruptly off. Before Harry could react, another bright flash came from the garden shed and the lights in there went out too. Two seconds later, all the lights in the house extinguished. A heartbeat after that, the next door neighbor's lights went out. And then their next door neighbor's lights went out.
Harry and Dudley stood stunned as one by one, all the lights went out in Little Whinging.
tbc...