Dudley glanced around his room, the small space more than adequate as he arranged his clothes on the bed.

The light was dim, flowing from alcoves above as he tried to ignore his window, which was larger than he would have liked.

It was the fish he didn't like, as they passed slowly, mockingly as if to critique his work. The lake was enormous, and deeper than one could think too. He sensed all kinds of things in there, different and unique from anything he'd known before.

One magical presence, which felt like the elves, was of particular interest.

Merpeople.

He'd meet them one day, he decided as he looked to his reflection in the full-length mirror.

Presentable, he thought as he raised his hand with an open grasp.

Zoom.

He caught his wand, its handle landing snugly in his hand as it zoomed from his bedside table.

Dudley loved his wand, but would admit to some annoyance regarding its weight; or more the difficulty he had when transporting it.

It was different from a light piece of wood. Stronger, heavier and by far, more powerful.

Yet, he didn't have anywhere to put it as he shifted its weight, pondering the issue as he moved towards the door. It swung open, anticipating his leave as he stepped out.

It closed with a soft click as he turned back.

The standard locking charm wouldn't work, not here in the dungeons. So he'd been thinking before bed, knowing he needed something better to secure his room.

They already had locks on them, which he was sure would deter most students. But his things were precious, particularly the items from his second home… he felt for magic around him, feeling nothing as he hissed softly.

The door pulsed with a soft light, barely a blink as the shimmer faded.

Dudley smiled, it had worked.

The idea had come to him after discovering how the portrait opened. It was simple, in theory. A word when spoken would displace the latch which kept it closed.

How did it work.

Magic.

And since Dudley could feel magic… he grinned, moving off as he walked quietly along the corridor.

All he had to do, was flick the switch as he arrived in the common room, which was empty at this hour.

It was just past 06:00, far too early for the first day of school as he swept towards the portrait. He wanted to see the castle, explore and determine the best routes before classes began.

Click

Dudley stepped through, lowering his hand as the portrait closed behind him.

The corridors were eerily quiet, the dungeons dark as Dudley settled. He sensed no one, prompting him on as he retraced yesterday's route.

He hadn't made it far before he sniffed the air. There it was again, that smell with the strange tang.

Potions?

He sniffed again, tentative in-case it was harmful; Harry would be better, even smelling some of the finer ingredients as Dudley made a mental note, resuming his pace as light lured him ahead.

"Hmm."

He came upon a large space, akin to the great hall in sheer volume alone.

Stairs.

So many stairs as Dudley looked up at the impressive structures. He heard them move, turning with a grinding echo that reached him easily.

They were busy, rising up through gloom. There were lights beside Dudley, flickering softly as one of the stairs moved nearby, creaking dangerously as Dudley watched it join another level, before moving again soon after.

Dudley breathed, feeling as he tried steady the waves of magic he felt.

It was exhilarating, even more so when Dudley felt the charms that moved them; that watched and waited, even those that could catch, should someone fall.

There were others too, buried deeper, their intent more difficult to divine as Dudley raised his wand.

He'd been carrying it with him since leaving his dorm, the honeycombed bone gripping well against his palm.

He raised it up, aiming high into the darkness.

Pulse.

A light shot forth, flaring upwards as its brightness spread.

Dudley glanced away, following its trail instead as it hissed higher and higher.

He was impressed, not having had the same results without his wand. Dudley wondered if it was the same with all magic, as his lessons with Gorbal came to mind.

On his own, it would have gone about 20 feet, and not nearly as bright as things appeared up above.

It felt warm, as Dudley's spotted something he truly admired.

Art.

Frames and frames of what he hoped were decadent works, filled with history -

Wait.

He squinted, his flare lingering as it reached its crescendo.

No, he lamented as the flare began to fall.

The frames were empty, blank and stained with old wood.

He looked away, feeling the light die out as his magic no longer sustained it. It was disappointing, as he slowly glancing at his wand.

It was happy that he'd used it, feeling warm in his hand as he smiled, he was too.

They left soon after, wand still in hand as Dudley walked the stairs, climbing high as he tried to remember the corridors. There must be other routes, Dudley didn't think these stairs were the only means of ascending.

And he was right, as a maze of corridors appeared on the second floor. There were stairs at the ends, each of them coiling tightly to the floors above.

Dudley moved on, following the corridors before being forced to stop, a presence coming his way.

A cat, but not like Mrs Figg's.

He watched as it rounded the bend ahead, his grip tightening on his wand as he saw its red eyes.

It meowed, prompting Dudley as he turned away, heading away towards the corridor behind.

Of course, it followed him. The infernal creature practically jogging to catch up to him.

Dudley snapped around.

"No!" it stopped, looking at him curiously. "Don't follow me."

It moved again, heading towards him.

"Back!"

Dudley forced his will, pushing it upon the cat as it leapt away from him.

It hissed, before running back the way it came.

Dudley hated cats, as he tried to relax, taking a breath as he lowered his wand. He'd need to find another place for it, knowing he couldn't carry it all day.

The Library would be the best place to start, he thought. Surely someone had encountered a similar issue before?

"Tempus."

The mist appeared, the letters floating delicately in the air. A verbalised spell was no different, he noted, as the time showed 07:00.

Dudley nibbled his lip. He didn't have time.

Unless.

He set off, resolute as he followed a course for the Library. It was most likely in this direction, he could feel the books; so similar to those at Slytherin's Manor.

Magic was everywhere here, even parchment carried its trace; and the most parchment like this, in all of Hogwarts, was this way.

Dudley power walked, feeling good as he arrived on the first floor, to a room he'd never forget.

Books.

Books and books. Everywhere.

Who knew how many, thousands as Dudley entered respectfully, knowing that quiet was expected here. The signs helped too, each having a sort of shushing gesture drawn upon them.

It was well drawn, as he looked for something that would help. Scouring the isles that were labelled:

Transfiguration, Herbology, Defence, Potions. Etc.

Dudley wasn't sure what he needed was under a specific category, or if the ideal of his idea was even possible.

He needed… to store his wand. Then, transport it into his hand.

Then back again.

Those were his base requirements.

He didn't want a holster, since it wouldn't fit. Nor did he want his wand up a sleeve or inside a chest pocket.

He needed it near, secure and accessible.

Dudley refused to be disarmed.

Ever, as he clutched his wand, feeling a warm pulse reach across his chest.

He got to work, beginning with Magical Storage since fundamentally, a wand was an object, which could be stored.

There were many types of storage he found, as book after book passed his hands. The best so far being something called a travel suitcase. Which was a suitcase, or bag; or anything that let you store more on the inside than what the outside advertised.

Dudley scrutinised a particular passage, about casting charms that would stretch the space within.

But not the spells themselves as he placed the book back. None of the books so far seeming to detail how to perform the spells, focusing on theory and general concepts instead.

Of course, even if they did list them, he wouldn't just jump in and risk accident. But it would help as he picked another, wondering how any of the things he'd read could be adjusted.

Dudley huffed, placing the book back as he picked another.

This wouldn't work, these books were too general. He needed more time as breakfast approached, his attention broken as he felt a woman walk through the Library's entrance.

She was slow, old as she settled her things atop the table at reception. She was unaware as Dudley peered around a bookshelf, watching as she began to tidy the space.

Perhaps she could help, as Dudley hatched a plan, one he'd enact later as he slipped the book back into place.

He headed for the exit, obscuring his wand as he looked naturally ahead.

She jumped, glaring as he passed. He didn't stop, walking quickly towards the hall as he followed the trailing students.

He was a little late, but not by much as the group arrived for breakfast ahead of him.

It was busy inside, with each bench almost filled to the brim as Dudley spotted Harry, already eating as he chatted energetically with Ron and a few others.

Hermione was there too, in the periphery.

They seemed to be ignoring her, as Dudley headed to the table of red and gold. Some noticing as he approached the tip of the table.

They seemed confused, then suspicious and angry as he approached Harry. It was a sentiment shared, red and green together as an older boy blocked his path.

"What do you want?" he said, drawing attention as more people looked there way.

Dudley raised a brow, offended as he tried to peer around him.

Harry was just behind.

"What's wrong with you? Don't stare at him!"

Dudley laughed. What did he think he was doing?

Harry appeared in a flash. "Dud!" he cheered, coming near as his baffled protector was shunted back

"Harry!"

Others were confused too as they watched the boys grin at each other.

Dudley looked at his robes, smiling. "Nice colour," he said. "All good? How's the dorm?"

Harry laughed.

"It's great! We're in the tower!" Harry wanted to tell Dudley all about it, not realising when he did as housemates hissed for him to be quiet.

It wasn't a secret, was it?

The boys were drawing attention, with more people around wondering what was going on.

He was from Slytherin, the Boy Who Lived shouldn't know him.

Dudley noticed their looks, chuckling with Harry as he joked about the fish.

Ron's mouth was scrunched. He knew who he was; yet didn't voice it, nor did he greet Dudley.

Part of him hoped Dudley would just go away.

"A fish watched you?"

Dudley nodded.

"A shoal. There were lots of them."

More laugher.

Dudley smiled. "Weird isn't it."

Harry got himself under control, just as a voice cut across then.

"Potter."

Harry snapped to attention, turning around to an even older boy. "Who is this?" he said, gesturing to Dudley as if he wasn't welcome.

Dudley scowled lightly. "And who are you?"

The older boy sniffed. "I'm Head Boy," before adding. "Who are you?"

Harry hastily intervened.

"He's my cousin," he said, blinking as people seemed shocked. "Dudley. We grew up together."

Harry made a show of standing next to Dudley, facing one Oliver Wood and the rest of Gryffindor house.

They were really shocked now. They had the same eyes.

"Cousin?" tried Wood, looking between the two. He'd had no idea.

"Yeah."

Harry glanced at Dudley, who was now equally confused.

Wood straightened quickly.

"O-oh," he said, looking apologetic. "I didn't know you had a cousin."

Dudley looked at him strangely.

"Why would you," he stated, looking scornfully at the rest. "You don't know us."

Wood didn't answer, the others turning rigidly away.

"Have you seen the food?" said Harry, patting Dudley's shoulder as he pointed.

Dudley leaned forward. "Is that Black Pudding?" he asked, excited as the chatter resumed around them.

Harry gave a: 'yes, and it's really good."

Dudley smiled, already moving to sit as Harry joined him.

The others were glancing at them, more than a little chastised as the boys conversed quietly.

Harry Potter had a cousin, who was a wizard?

The rumours were already spreading as new groups of people cast curious looks towards the green-eyed pair.

Dudley could sense when they did, feeling oddly smug.

How dare they try and come between Harry and he, as if they had a right to control what Harry did. It boiled something inside to know he was being pulled like this, by such noxious people.

Dudley ate his Black Pudding, not joining in as Ron began talking about Quidditch with Harry. His cousin seemed interested in the sport, his having played in.

He grumbled, feeling the looks from Slytherin as he glanced across, seeing their eyes looking back.

They didn't seem pleased, with a few glaring noticeably as he felt Harry jostle his arm. "Dud, why are you holding your wand?"

Oh, he still was wasn't he. He'd switched it to his left hand subconsciously to eat breakfast, which might explain some of the other looks he was getting.

It surprised him that no one tried to disarm him. In the muggle world, it was like carrying a gun.

At least he'd carried it differently when coming in, deciding to hold it along the middle as he dipped his spoon, letting it float in his porridge.

"I don't know where to put it."

Oh, Harry made a face. "In your pocket?"

Dudley shook his head.

"It's too heavy," he passed the wand to Harry. "See."

Harry hesitated, thinking back to Olivander's.

He took it anyway, jolting at the cold in his hand. "It feels cold."

"Well of course it does!"

It was George, or maybe Fred. Ron's recently introduced brothers. "It's not your wand, it won't like you."

Harry nodded understandably, the feeling of cold worsening before passing it back to Dudley.

"It is heavier though, much more than mine."

Dudley hummed agreeably, watching Harry as he retrieved his pale wand, tugging it from his robe's inner pocket.

He'd tried that, the wand had quickly dragged his clothing down as Harry passed his wand to Dudley, for a moment forgetting what had happened before.

A few gasped, as if Harry's wand was somehow special.

"Why are you gasping?" asked Hermione from the side, watching with Ron as Dudley weighed it in his hand.

He had both wands, one in each hand.

Ron looked most disturbed. "You just don't do it," he said. "Most people never let anyone touch their wand."

Hermione frowned, understanding to an extent.

"…he's the boy who lived…" she heard, before looking at a panicked Ron as Dudley waved Harry's wand.

"Tempus."

He'd ducked, along with a few others who'd been watching carefully.

"Huh?"

Ron reappeared. Hermione looked at him strangely. "It tells the time," she explained, frowning as she glanced at the others. "Doesn't it?"

Fred and George looked her.

"Yes," one said.

"And no," said the other.

They each looked back at Dudley, the time having appeared as Dudley seemed to concentrate.

The mist changed, the written letters of 'Eight o'clock' disappearing as Dudley slowly twisted his wrist, angling the wand a little.

08:00

"There, that's better."

Harry agreed, if a little stunned. Dudley had just modified a spell with his wand.

"Cool," he remarked, trying to remember if they'd discussed this before. "That's much easier to read."

Dudley nodded, flicking the time away with a loose hand.

"Is the spell different now?" said an older girl, watching Dudley from a little way down.

He shrugged, looking thoughtful before flicking the wand again.

The time reappeared, no words said.

08:01

They awed, Hermione in particular. She didn't like reading the time the other way, it was old and difficult.

"Can we do it too?"

"Yeah! That's much easier."

"Can you teach us?"

Dudley didn't know what to do as he let the spell fade, passing the wand back to Harry who took it with a smirk.

The girl touched his arm. "Hey," she said. "I can help you with your homework. Can you teach me too?"

She looked at him funny.

"Well, I-"

"Mr Dursley."

Praise McGonagall, he'd been saved as he turned to find the stern Professor standing just behind him.

She flicked a finger. "You'll need to return to your table now, Professor Snape is assigning timetables."

"Yes!" he said, a little loudly. "I'll head straight over."

He nudged Harry's arm. "See ya Harry."

"Yeah Dud."

McGonagall watched the boy nod to her, passing quickly as he walked towards his own table.

She recalled what he'd done, it was impressive as the girl sighed in disappointment.

McGonagall tutted.

"You already have two pocket watches, Miss Welsh. Yet you still manage to be late for my class."

The girl was abashed, saying it wasn't her fault time slipped by her.

McGonagall continued to pass out timetables, shaking her head.

She stopped beside Harry.

"Mr Potter."

He looked up, seeing her stern face. "You'd be well advised not to share your wand, it can be… problematic."

"But Dudley cou-"

She cut him off.

"Your cousin is the exception."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Yes, Professor."

She left.

"You coming Harry?" said Ron from across the table. "I think I know the way to History."

History? That was their first class?

How disappointing, thought Harry as he nodded.

It would be a busy day.

Break

Dudley hadn't eaten much, even by his standards as he arrived before Severus.

The man looked at him, his eyes flashing to Harry as he left with Ron.

"Mr Dursley," he glanced back. "I trust you enjoyed your little trip?"

"Yes Professor."

"No, of course not."

The man nodded, looking pleased as a few snickered around them.

"Good," he said. "See that it doesn't happen again."

He handed Dudley a timetable, generic for all the first-year Slytherins.

Dudley took it, feeling annoyed.

"I'll see you in Potions."

Dudley moved to follow. "May I accompany you, Professor?"

He wanted to ask about his wand, still holding it now. "I wanted to ask about-"

"No."

The Professor left, turning away as people laughed secretly… Dudley touched his hair, tugging it lightly.

He was supposed to help him, wasn't he?

A boy came near, smiling innocently. "It's no use," he said. "Snape won't hold your hand."

It was an older boy, one he recognised.

"Mr Flint, it's nice to see you again."

The boy scoffed, looking at Dudley as if he were mad. He left just as quickly, meeting a few others who'd waited for him by the doors at the side.

Dudley didn't do anything else, simply stood as he felt the hall as it emptied around him. He glanced along the table, searching; not a single person left…

He should get his things, as he looked at his timetable, seeing History. Wasn't that taught by a ghost?

Harry and he had discussed it, thinking how cool it would be to talk to someone so old, that wasn't Gorble.

Dudley sighed, deciding to sit as he searched for food. He needed a solution, not history as he spied some cereal up ahead, grasping it with his mind as it began to float towards him.

Cornflakes.

They were towards the middle of the table, their journey far as Dudley looked for a clean bowl.

There was a stack nearby, on the Ravenclaw table as one flew towards him, landing with ease as the cereal followed.

Luckily, the milk was just beside him; along with a spoon, which looked clean.

He felt better already as he poured a bowl, glancing up at the few people left within the hall. Ravenclaws, most were studying, their heads buried in books. Whilst the few others were simply eating, yet seemed lost in thought, as if the world weighed upon them.

He hummed a song in his head, enjoying the sound as he chewed slowly. His Dad had taught him not to rush when eating, even if one were rushed.

Which was debatable, since Dudley felt like skipping History. He had other things to attend to, important things that involved the wand in his left hand.

Someone coughed, but not by him as a girl with short hair cleared her throat.

See, she'd rushed it.

He'd have to be late for History, there was no other way as the minutes passed in silent chewing.

Clank.

Dudley finished the bowl, letting the spoon settle inside.

Time to go.

He left through the side door, the smaller exits sitting in corners of the great hall. It was quicker, he assumed, as he arrived in yet another corridor.

It was quiet, and with swift steps Dudley made a b-line for the library. Climbing stairs upon stairs, which somehow didn't take him beyond the second floor.

Hogwarts was truly vast.

Had it always been a school?

The library came into view, with Dudley slightly sweaty from his unusually difficult journey. It didn't matter though, he was here now as he approached reception.

"Good morning," he said, smiling as the old lady looked up at him.

She scowled.

"You!"

Dudley swallowed.

"You didn't put those books back properly!"

The woman stood, circling around the desk with deceptive speed. "You shouldn't be here, what class do you have?"

"Professor Snape advised I visit the library," responded a struggling Dudley. "S-some of my books were lost."

She didn't believe him, her scowl very aggressive as their eyes met.

He pushed his way in, piecing a layer that had surrounded her mind like wet paper.

She froze, as Dudley felt a rush of emtions.

Anger.

Shame.

…fear.

He'd done this before, yet it wasn't easy. She fought him, tried to stop him as he erased all memory of their interactions.

Thankfully, it wasn't much to undo. A dozen seconds at most, she wouldn't notice as his gaze snapped away.

She stumbled.

Dudley ran, she'd be disoriented, but not for long as he slowed within the isles. Letting the books surround him as his pulse began to calm.

He closed his eyes, feeling as the woman walked shakily back to her desk.

She'd be fine, no harm done as Dudley set to work, looking for books as he stayed clear of reception.

A few hours later.

Dudley was cradled between two aisles, smaller than the rest and towards the very back of the library. The channel he was in felt narrow, secluded as he drew a pattern on the blank pages of a book.

It was something he'd found, along with a few quills and ink. The library provided it, the items around free of charge.

He blinked, biting his lip as the line was drawn.

It was pretty, in a way. Along with the rest, pages and pages filled with designs. If one were to see it, they'd assume it was a symbol, of sorts.

It followed an oval perimeter, with four deep lines running centrally; two from one tip, two from the other.

On its side, it looked like an eye; with a circular shading sitting right in the middle.

Its intricacy both frustrated and elated Dudley; how he'd never thought of this before, he didn't know.

Magic could do anything, he concluded as the final line was filled.

"It's done."

He cradled the page, his fingers quivering with strain as he cleared some space, the floor around littered with scrap; books, pages and ink stains.

Dudley didn't care, placing the page down with care.

It was, truly a masterpiece.

And it would work too, Dudley was sure as he grabbed his wand, placing it carefully down on the symbol.

He aligned it just right, directly above the eye's pupil. His hands settled beside it, taking a breath as his fingers spread with care.

He tried to picture what he wanted, to give the word he'd speak the intent needed.

"Seal."

Pop.

He waited, frozen as he held the last of his breath.

The wand was gone… he could feel it inside.

He breathed out.

"It worked."

Sagging with relief, Dudley rolled his shoulders, having sat for hours on the library floor.

Now the next step.

"Release!"

It appeared again, flicking from the seal with another soft pop.

Dudley retrieved his wand, inspecting it thoroughly for damage.

He grinned.

Now came the last part, the painful part as he placed his wand down, reaching for another book left just within reach.

Magical Tattoos. It was Dark Magic, though not any kind he'd used before.

His mother was right though, tattoos were bad even here. He'd found this particular volume within a locked room, filled with other more disgusting looking books, that even Gorble would demand be cleaned.

It hadn't taken long to find, the spine clearly showing what he needed as he turned the pages, flicking towards a spot he'd marked before.

Steps. Simple steps. It was a breath of fresh air.

Dudley would need to use his other hand, his left since the seal would need to be placed on his right.

The location of which, was easy. It had to be on his palm, anywhere else, would be too noticeable.

The seal wasn't large either, about the size of a two-pound coin; if coins were oval as he raised his wand, his grip a little awkward as he hovered the tip above the design he'd painfully drawn.

"Poseta-"

The seal glowed blue, rising from the page like a sticker as it hovered near the tip of his wand.

He moved his hand, opening his palm to align it. It looked right, his eyes measuring carefully as it sat horizontally; as if looking back at him.

"-Ingrenum."

Pain.

He stifled a scream, desperately fighting to keep his hand open. The skin burned with silent flame, blackening his skin until the spell ended… Dudley opened eyes, breathing deeply as his chest heaved.

His hand lay open, just barely as he cradled it close. He took a hesitant look, peering down as his fingers opened painfully.

Triumph.

Dudley laughed weakly at the pain he was in, the skin appearing burnt, red where the ink had been applied.

It had turned a dark shake of grey, a fact which pleased Dudley greatly. It would heal, he could even remove it, if he wanted.

Only him.

Or Harry.

Since the version he'd used would need the spell spoken in reverse, in the same tongue as that which it was applied.

Perfect, the author was most helpful as Dudley passed the wand between his hands, the pain beginning to numb.

"Seal!"

The wand vanished.

"Release!"

And re-appeared.

Dudley chuckled with relief, rolling on his side as he clasped his wand tightly to his chest.

This time, he didn't say it. Instead letting his magic flow as the wand vanished, leaving his hand with a soft pop.

It was the air that made the sound, realised Dudley. He swore to improve it later, as he laid on the floor, thinking quietly as sleep threatened him.

Not yet, as Dudley rose tiredly.

He gathered his papers, all the tests and trials he'd attempted over the last few hours and set them in a pile before raising his wand.

They dissolved, withering to nothing as Dudley let his arm sweep across the floor. The ink came next, then the quills as he removed all trace of his work.

Nothing was left as Dudley stood, intent on returning his books as he entered the locked room again, glancing as he did at the books within.

He shut the door behind him.

Others had arrived a little earlier, older years who seemed to study alone and with great focus while Dudley moved between the isles.

Ideal. They'd never come near him.

The library it seemed, like the school, was vast as Dudley stopped. Feeling odd as he leant against a bookcase, cradling the last of his books.

He was exhausted, covered in ink, paper cuts and his hair a mess. But it was worth it, as he pushed himself forward. Walking like a man possessed as people finally glanced his way.

No one stopped him, the few students that thought to try put off by something.

Madam Pince, whom a pair of girls had mentioned within earshot, did try to stop him.

He ignored her, depositing the last of his books on her desk as he passed.

She hesitated, not sure why as she let him go.

Dudley felt people moving ahead as he walked the corridors, feeling as classes began to depart.

Was it the second round?

He wasn't sure, nor did he want to know as he headed straight for the nearest bathroom.

The students filed around him, giving him strange looks as they walked with their friends.

A few minutes later, Dudley felt much better. Relieved and refreshed after gulping a few mouthfuls of tap water.

The toilets were nice here, private as he communed with Mother Nature.

Sadly, it didn't last as Dudley headed for the great hall, hungry again and feeling off.

It was lunchtime, the tables full as students had already started to eat.

He slowed, just past the doors to the great hall as a woman strode towards him.

She was fat, appearing to struggle as she walked.

"Mr Dursley?" she asked, a little frantic as she took in Dudley's appearance.

Dudley blinked at her.

She stepped forward, tentative. "Dudley?"

He tilted his head, finally meeting her gaze as she grew even more concerned.

"Who are you?"

She swallowed, trying to smile as she felt herself edge away.

Something was wrong.

"I am Professor Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff," she said, chuckling forcefully. "You gave us quite a scare."

Dudley stood rigidly, scowling as his muscles twitched.

"I don't know you," he said warningly, his eyes glancing around. "Where's Harry?"

She didn't answer.

"ANSWER ME!"

Dudley wasn't himself, feeling his fears rise around him as faces turned his way.

His wand appeared in his hand, levelling it at the woman who raised her own.

He was right, she was bad.

"What have you done to him!"

"Nothing!" she called, her tone turning desperate. "Please, Dudley. Harry's fine. Please…" her hands gestured for calm.

The students shuffled from behind, some daring to approach.

"Stay back!" she snapped. "Get back!"

The crowds did, a few eeping as they hurried away.

Dudley started to shake, his eyes looking wild at the things around him.

The Professor cast, hoping to disarm him.

His free hand moved, reactively slapping it away as his wand arched forwards.

Fire swept from it, blasting out and towards the Professor who shielded on instinct. The crowds were running, scrambling to get away as Dudley shouted.

"LIAR!"

Spells erupted from is wand, his arm jabbing and swiping madly as energy of all colours collided against Sprout's shield.

He didn't stop, even as the benches smashed; as the walls cracked, blowing sections out and across the hall… her shield collapsed in seconds, falling as Dudley tore sections of the floor away, drawing his wand from below as he swung them viciously towards her.

She fell, tumbling back with a scream as the debris cut across her body.

Dudley felt strange, as he watched the woman tumble away. Almost, as if this were a dream.

Standing as he was within the dust, wondering why he was surrounded by rubble.

He coughed, feeling a little better as he stepped from the cloud.

Had he done this?

His eyes surveyed the hall, the damage almost everywhere he looked as he blinked, seeing clearly as people arrived.

The Professors, their wands were out, each of them filtering in from the doors at the side.

He stepped back, swallowing as words failed him.

They approached cautiously.

Dudley knew what would happen, it was over; his mind already turning to what would happen next.

His wand.

They'd snap his wand.

Pop.

It vanished from his hand, just as a spell knocked him down.

Break

Severus approached the boy; seeing his stunner having dropped him roughly to the floor. His heart was racing, having run to the hall when he'd felt the tremors.

Of all the days for Dumbledore to be out.

They'd been looking for Dudley, ever since History had ended.

That incompetent ghost, it had taken Harry and his friends appearing in his class before they realised what had happened.

Dudley was gone. And Severus could only guess why.

Lunch had been upon them soon, with only an hour block left after History's mind-numbing double.

He'd petitioned for the schedule to be changed numerous times, yet the governors resisted, insisting that tradition be kept.

"Pomona?" he called, hurrying to her side as the woman groaned.

Good, she was still conscious as Severus reached her, assessing the damage.

She'd be fine, he'd let Filius attend to her as he looked ahead, shocked at the sheer damage around him.

The stones were torn, the floor a gaping array of broken holes. The benches too were in bits, scattered like leaves as they burned, the flames beginning to dwindle as he raised his wand.

McGonagall appeared beside him, copying the charm. "Severus," she breathed. "What's happening?"

He didn't look at her, walking ahead instead.

She followed, quickly seeing Dudley sprawled across the floor.

"Ah!" she ran, clambering towards him as best she could. "SEVERUS!"

"Calm," he said, arriving next to her. "He's just knocked out."

She adjusted Dudley's body, moving rubble from beneath him.

"He's unconscious!" she snapped, looking angrily at him.

"Yes, I stunned him."

"What?"

She was completely lost, staring up at Severus with open eyes.

He breathed, shaking his head. "Something's happened to him, he didn't attend History-"

Minerva gasped. "Then how-"

"I don't know."

People begun to appear around them, older students with the remaining staff who'd left to look for Dudley before lunch had even begun.

They'd been foolish, Harry had insisted he'd be back for lunch.

The boy hadn't actually been all that concerned, more following the advice of his friends.

Severus glanced behind him, seeing the students and staff searching the debris; he doubted anyone was under any.

"Let's head to the medical wing," he said, turning back as he flicked his wand.

Dudley rose, floating before them.

"I'll direct the students," said Minerva as she hurried off, helping the rest search as Severus began to walk.

He stopped, looking around for Dudley's wand… it wasn't here.

Odd, as he traversed with care. The students helping stopping as he approached, staring cautiously at the floating Dudley.

They'd seen much then, their fear easy to see as he left the hall.

Dudley had a lot to answer to as he looked at the boy, who was a mess – it seemed even before his episode.

The ink stains stood out, with clear smears across his face. His mind immediately connected the dots.

How had he entered?

Madam Pince couldn't have missed him, never as the hospital wing approached… Severus felt his head begin to ache, seeing a few students already there.

Some had been hurt in the panic, already here as he saw Pomona from afar, asleep in a bed reserved for teachers. Severus headed her way, he'd need to speak to her, Dumbledore too once he arrived from his errand.

The spell released, soothing his mind as Dudley settled softly atop the bed.

He was just down from Pomona, he needed to keep the boy safe as he began to heal him.

The others would be here soon.

AN

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