It was early morning when Madam Pomphrey entered the wing, her shoes clacking softly between the empty beds as she cleaned. The students had left the evening before, some having gone home with their parents.
She busied herself, deciding to arrange and tidy as she went from bed to bed. The elves had done much of it last night, removing the stains and general clutter from yesterday.
Yesterday, she felt weak thinking of it.
What a day that had been, she'd worked for hours; healing wounds and assigning potions. Even talking to parents who'd insisted their child was in pain.
She huffed, as if she'd allow such a thing as time passed into early morning, the students already at class as she approached the only bed still occupied.
Dudley Dursley.
It was a name no one would soon forget, least of all her as she gazed upon the sleeping boy. He hadn't stirred, not once since coming here.
Severus was to blame, he was a powerful wizard and had not held back. She'd made sure Dudley was comfortable, healing his wounds and keeping him hydrated. It was an easy thing with magic, yet she remained attentive.
Speaking of wounds, there was one she hadn't been able to heal, only having spotted it when the boy's fist remained firmly closed.
It had been odd, seeing it so rigidly closed. She'd had to use a spell to pry it open, only to frown as the mark came into view.
A tattoo, how odd.
Had that always been there?
No, she'd realised. Seeing the fresh burns that spread from the faded ink. It was then she'd noticed the feeling it gave off, one of fear and pain.
It was horrible… as she glanced towards it, glad that the redness seemed to have lessoned overnight.
The Headmaster had said as much, after trying to remove it late last night, only to fail again and again.
It must be very complex, she thought. Sighing as she returned to her office for a biscuit.
The Headmaster would be along shortly, ready to wake Dudley.
She hoped his classmates didn't hold it against him, he seemed like such a bright boy as movement caught her attention.
The Headmaster must be early.
"Headm-"
"Where am I?"
Dudley stared at her, standing alert by the door to her office, his face a careful frown.
She blinked, glancing at his bare feet and striped pyjamas.
He looked back at her, unflinching.
"Well?"
Pomphrey, in all her life, had never experienced a boy quite like this.
His eyes were fierce, like a wounded animal.
"Good morning," she said, feigning composure as she fetched her biscuit. "You're in the medical wing."
She smiled at him.
"How do you feel?"
The boy watched her eat, his face changing just slightly.
"Hungry," he said, his lips wiggling softly. "Are those Digestives?"
She indicated the box, offering an affirmative. "Yes," she said. "Would you like one?"
Dudley agreed immediately.
"Of course! It's one of my favourites," he stepped forward, the earlier mood vanishing as he retrieved a single biscuit. "Thank you. Dudley Dursley, it's nice to meet you."
She held out her hand, it seemed the natural thing to do. "Madam Pomphrey."
The boy smiled, shaking it as he inclined his head.
"Well met, Madam Pomphrey."
He let go, unbothered as she watched him finish his biscuit.
She was struck by how different he was, from what she'd imagined.
"May I have another?"
She pushed the tin towards him, happy as the boy smiled.
"Thank you."
What a lovely boy, she thought. Offering him a seat as he perched, there was a chair just by the door. It's soft cushion perfect for discussing sensitive medical issues.
Dudley finished his biscuit, yet decided not to stand as his hand rose.
It looked almost lazy, as Pomphrey watched the way he handled the floating biscuits.
He took one, taking a bite as the other floated at the ready… her throat felt a little dry, feeling the need to take a sip from her tea.
"So, Dudley," she began conversationally, pointedly ignoring the floating biscuit. "What are your favourite subjects?"
An easy ice-breaker, he'd be sure to have many as she watched him shrug.
"It's hard to say," he began, having paused his eating. "Harry thinks I enjoy Charms, since I've practiced those the most."
He took another bite, savouring the taste as Pomphrey continued.
"A good choice, Charms are very useful," she said. "My favourite charm is the mending charm, Repairo."
Dudley nodded, plucking the biscuit from the air. "Cool," he took a bite, mumbling a little.
"M-Min-e's…"
He swallowed. "Mine's Diffindo, the cutting charm."
Pomphrey controlled her blink, that was a 5th year charm. Naturally, since it had a nasty affect of cutting things in two.
If it was Dudley's favourite, then he must have practiced it.
She looked at the biscuit in his hand, wondering if this was a good idea as she reached for a piece of paper from her desk.
"Can you cut this paper in half, neatly and without snags?" she passed it to him, his hand receiving it gently.
He shoved the last of his biscuit inside, chewing slowing he held the paper aloft.
His index finger came across, carefully meeting the edge as it ran across the paper.
The paper fell, half of it flapping to the floor.
…
"Wonderful!" she praised, grinning as Dudley jolted, apparently not expecting such praise.
He summoned the paper to them, saving her the task of reaching under the desk.
Incredible, she thought as she received the two halves. The cut was clean, neat with no damage as she placed them aside, turning back to see a frowning Dudley.
His mood had changed, his body beginning to squirm as she heard footsteps draw near.
She stood quickly, stepping past Dudley as the Headmaster appeared.
He appeared cautious, eying the pair without expression.
Dudley spoke first.
"Good morning, Headmaster."
Dumbledore looked at him, assessing briefly before smiling softly. "Good morning Dudley, I am glad you're alright."
They watched him step back, his gaze landing on Poppy. "May I sit? Dudley and I need to discuss some things."
He wanted her to leave.
She nodded.
"Of course, I'll just be outside," she smiled at Dudley. "It was nice meeting you, Dudley."
He waved, smiling sadly as the woman left; he watched the Headmaster step in, closing the door behind him.
Dudley wouldn't meet his eye.
"How are you feeling," he said. "You've been asleep some time."
Dudley frowned, sitting up. "How long?"
"About 20 hours, give or take."
…
"Oh," said Dudley, slumping as he looked at his feet. "I feel fine, sir. Thank you."
The Headmaster nodded, pleased.
"Dudley," he said, looking carefully at the boy. "How much do you remember?"
Albus didn't want to upset Dudley, but he needed to know; even if he was no longer a student here.
It hurt him to see the boy begin to rock, his hands sliding beneath his legs in quiet anguish.
"Start slow, from the beginning," he added, his tone comforting. "Everyone's fine, Harry too."
Dudley had been about to ask, nodding as he tried to collect himself.
"I was in-"
He stopped.
No, as he glanced at the Headmaster.
"Before I tell you," he began, feeling an intense scrutiny. "May I ask one thing?"
…
The Headmaster touched his beard.
"Yes."
Dudley met his eyes.
"Am I to be expelled?"
…
Dumbledore slumped, closing his eyes.
"You already have been," opening them as Dudley stared at him. "Forgive me, Dudley."
The boy took a ragged breath, the air hitching somewhere inside.
He was on the verge of tears, shaking as his head dropped towards his hands.
Tears fell, sobbing as his fingers gripped tightly through his hair.
Dumbledore wanted to cry too, he'd failed the boy.
Harry would be devastated too.
The crying quickly began to wane as Dudley swallowed them back, taking measured breaths as he leaned away.
His eyes were bloodshot, his nose running.
"I-I didn't mean it," he begged. "I just wanted somewhere to put my wand!"
He growled, his fist swinging behind as it thumped the wall.
"What was I supposed to do!"
His body shook with anger as his eyes bored towards the Headmaster.
Albus thumbed his wand.
Dudley stood, lurching as his eyes changed.
"Fine," he spat, twitching from the adrenaline. "I'll go. I'll go right now!"
He made for the door, it didn't open.
"Open it!" he hissed, whipping back to Dumbledore as his arm tugged furiously.
The Headmaster pieced him with a look.
"Dudley," he said, his tone severe. "Sit down."
…
Neither was relenting, the only sound being Dudley's heavy breathing.
Until, something seemed to shift in Dudley.
His rage drained, his mouth relaxing as his expression changed.
He smirked.
"So be it."
Albus wasn't quick enough, the boy vanishing with a soft whoosh.
A portkey.
How?
Dumbledore rushed from the room, a loud crack shocking Madam Pomphrey as he Apparated straight to his office.
He began searching his desk, looking for the item he'd borrowed as he snatched it up.
The castle flourished into view, a map with names that seemed to walk with a life of their own.
He searched frantically, checking every name in every corner of the castle as the minutes passed.
It couldn't be, he thought.
He felt his legs weaken, dropping him against his chair.
Dudley was gone.
Break
Crash.
Hissing sounded within the large entrance hall, a few items clattering aside as Dudley tumbled to the floor.
It was a rough journey, as he groaned, his knees against the floor as the dizziness began to fade.
"You're back," hissed a voice from the wall, sounding amused.
Dudley lifted his head.
"G-Gorble," he said weakly. He was so relieved to see him.
"I made a mistake."
The words choked from his mouth as Dudley cried again, giving up on standing as he curled into a ball within the hall.
Gorble hissed softly to him. "It's alright Dudley," he said. "You're safe now. No one can reach you here."
Gorble saw him nod, his worry growing.
He'd suspected something like this might happen, but not this soon.
He should have waited, Dudley was too young as the boy unfurled, trying to stand.
"I-I've been expelled," he said lowly, resting a hand on the hallway cabinet. "It's all my fault."
No.
"No," said Gorble quickly. "The fault is mine."
Dudley glanced at him, confused.
Gorble sighed, feeling the fool.
Dudley may be remarkable, but he was still just a boy.
"I am sorry, Dudley," he said, looking sadly at the boy he saw like a son. "I should have waited, teaching you all I have. It was too soon…"
Dudley looked away, wanting to protest yet… he didn't know what to think as Gorble gestured him near.
"Tell me what happened."
Dudley did, he told him everything.
Break
Harry paid little attention as he received a button, its surface a dull brown as it clattered across the wooden desk.
The morning had been difficult, slow and tiresome for all as they'd eaten breakfast in their common rooms.
They'd said the hall was yet to be repaired, painting a gruesome picture as Harry rolled the button between his fingers.
Ron nudged him, McGonagall was speaking.
"…hold your buttons now," she called, gesturing from the from of the class. "Get a feel for the weight, it's texture. Imagine them changing, turning into the needle from yesterday."
They did, or at least attempted as Harry watched from the rear of the class, uninterested as people waved their wands.
He glanced at Ron, who was attempting the same with particular vigour.
"Veraverto!" he shouted, swishing his wand towards the button in his other hand.
Nothing happened, not a spark.
Harry tried not to snicker.
"You try it then!" the boy said, tossing his button down. "Go on."
Sighing, Harry gave it a go. Pulling his wand from his breast pocket.
He swished it, holding the button loosely in the other hand.
…
Ron huffed frustratedly, looking at Harry's perfect needle.
Harry set it down, his thoughts drifting again as Ron renewed his efforts. Harry thought of Dudley, wondering again if he was alright.
He didn't want to believe he'd been expelled, even if Ron still mentioned the possibility when they discussed it. Which grated on Harry, Ron didn't know Dudley; didn't know anything about the law or just-
He tried to relax, adjusting himself within his chair.
Dudley would be fine, he had to be as the lesson dragged on, with a few others succeeding as he watched Hermione beam from the front row.
He liked Hermione, she was bright and seemed to come from a similar family as him.
Harry would talk to her later, even if Ron said she was barmy.
The lesson stopped as a knock interrupted them.
Someone was at the door.
"Settle down, keep working on the task," said McGonagall, trying to hide her nervousness as she walked across the room.
Harry sat up, staring as she went.
Draco did too, yet neither noticed the other as McGonagall opened it.
"Oh," she said. "Miss Smith, is everything alright?"
The girl appeared, nodding as she spoke quietly to McGonagall.
Harry twitched his ears, suppressing a shiver as they changed inside… he angled his head, like an owl.
His very own, as he listened in.
"…he'll need to come… the Headmaster… but we're in class, can't it wait… no…"
The girl stepped back, the door remaining open as McGonagall lingered for a moment.
Harry let the change go, beginning to pack his things.
Ron looked at him strangely as McGonagall arrived behind him.
"Mr Potter," she said, keeping her voice low. "If you'd follow me out, gather your things."
She stepped away, letting him stand as Ron looked between them.
The class did too, each of them already knowing what this was about.
Harry followed close behind her, continuing ahead and through the door as McGonagall slowed.
She cleared her throat.
"Harry," she said, feeling sad as the boy reached the door. She smiled reassuringly. "I'll see you after class, take care."
Harry nodded. "Thank you, Professor."
He turned, following Miss Smith as they walked away.
McGonagall glanced their way, before closing the door weakly as she returned to class.
Break
Harry couldn't believe it.
It wasn't possible as the Headmaster steadied his shoulder.
Expelled.
Dudley had been expelled, and was now missing?
He could guess where he'd gone, not that he'd ever speak of it.
The Headmaster and he stood alone, standing by the window in his office. Each of them looking afar, seeing for miles across the Black Lake.
They'd talked about Mermaids, briefly; before Dumbledore broke the news.
"Forgive me Harry, it shouldn't have to be this way."
Harry turned to the man, shifting his hand off of him.
He tried to think.
"What about our parents, do they know?"
Dumbledore nodded, which only worsened Harry's anxiety.
"They've been informed," said the Headmaster, looking troubled. "Though some facts were left out, only that Dudley would be returning this evening."
Harry worried for them, he'd write to them as he moved, walking past the desk and towards the exit.
No time to waste.
"Harry," stopped the Headmaster, his voice carrying across the room.
Harry slowed, tilting back reluctantly.
"Dudley used a Portkey," he heard, the words almost leading. "Do you know where he might have gone?"
"Back home, if anything."
…
"Portkey's are highly regulated," offered Dumbledore, with every few having access to bypass the Hogwarts wards.
He sensed Harry knew more.
"I wouldn't know, Professor," said Harry, wanting to move.
"Indeed," hummed the Headmaster. "Most intriguing."
Harry wasn't dismissed yet, he watched the Headmaster touch his beard.
"Did Dudley mention anything yesterday, something of concern. About his wand, perhaps?"
Dumbledore had a suspicion, again coming back to the location of Dudley's wand.
Harry frowned, recalling breakfast.
"Yes," he said, wondering why Dumbledore had asked that.
The man nodded keenly. "What did he say?"
Harry trying to put it all into quick, simple words.
"He said it was heavy," his expression thoughtful. "Difficult to store. He'd been carrying it during breakfast."
Dumbledore's eyes almost sparkled, withholding his awe.
"I see," he said, not giving anything else away. "Thank you, Harry."
The Headmaster began to turn, before stopping as if remembering something. "I'll be addressing the students over lunch, about Dudley. If you could…"
"I won't say anything."
Dumbledore looked sadly at him.
"If you ever need my help, with anything. My door is always open."
A curt nod.
Harry hurried away, careening down the stairs as tears began to fall.
His eyes stung.
Miss Smith had waited, looking slightly panicked as Harry stormed past her.
She tried to follow.
Harry ran, not caring where.
There was only one place he wanted to be, yet nothing he could do would take him there.
…
He ran out of steam soon after, arriving at the common room in a puffing mess.
Lunch wasn't far off, he thought. Saying the password as the portrait swung open, he'd pass the time until then.
Break
The students had gathered eagerly, yearning for food as they bustled towards the great hall.
A few hesitated, while most pressing on as usual.
Harry had been one of the first to arrive, having little else to do. He'd thought about going back to class, but had decided against it.
Ron would be hard to ignore; the others too with their curious questions.
Harry withdrew within his thoughts as the tables filled, his housemates seeming to respect his wishes as they gave him a wide berth. They arranged their food instead, like any normal day.
The Headmaster arrived soon after, calling for quiet as he approached a small podium.
Harry listened loosely as Dumbledore spoke, telling the school of Dudley's expulsion, of how the ministry had ordered his wand be snapped.
Shocked gasps echoed around him, none could believe it. That hadn't happened for 50 years, even the Pure-bloods seeming to question it.
Dumbledore signalled for calm, explaining what he could.
Nothing in regards to Dark Magic was said, with only the barest note given to 'harmful magics'.
It was a tale to caution, not exonerate his cousin's actions.
If people had doubted Dudley before, they didn't now, all assuming the worst of him.
Harry suppressed his anger, wanting to shout and snap at those whispering around him.
Dudley had made a mistake, one that wouldn't have happened if Harry had been there, like he should have been, like all the times before.
It was his fault, and although he didn't know why Dudley had used Dark Magic, Harry knew it would never have been without great purpose.
Dudley didn't do things by halves, it was 100% - in everything, always.
The whispers increased as Dumbledore stepped away, prompting a wave of looks and frowns straight towards him.
Harry tried to ignore them, picking at his food.
He wanted things to go back to how they were.
Break
Dudley found a pair of clothes in a cupboard, tilting them towards the ball of light hovering above him.
He nodded, beginning to shrink different sections to size.
They were Gorble's, when he'd been young as Dudley rummaged within the loft, looking for a coat next.
It was raining, the pitter patter from above almost soothing as he was reminded of camping with his family.
His Mother hadn't been a fan.
"Ah-ha!" he cheered, pulling a long coat from the bottom of a wooden box. "Perfect."
It smelt of wax, which meant waterproof – at least, when it was made as Dudley performed the same on it, running his fingers here and there to shrink it.
He tried it on, adjusting it a bit more.
"It looks good," hissed Gorble. Smiling from a shabby frame in the corner. "Have you got everything else?"
Dudley looked about, finding the shoes and socks he'd collected earlier.
"Yes, let me put it all on."
He did, undressing from the thin pyjamas as he tossed them away. He'd cleaned the clothes too, glad he'd already practiced it.
Scourgify was very useful, particularly here in Slytherin's House.
"Let's head down," hissed Dudley as he moved towards the ladder. "I need to get home."
"You are home, Dudley," chuckled Gorble as he disappeared from view.
Dudley huffed a little, smiling as he slung himself down the ladder. He'd been surprised it was here, even if it was practical.
The light fizzled out as the hatch closed, thudding as Dudley headed down the messy landing.
He'd once wondered why everything was messy here, since it seemed odd for a house that had housed a dying Lord.
Gorble had told him, much to his embarrassment.
Pixies, Cornish Pixies.
Dudley had asked what they were, with Gorble pointing to a jar in the corner.
Hm, it was blue.
Dudley found a few others, dead with exposed skeletons as he'd cleaned the house, which was huge.
It was lucky nothing could get in, or out. The rampage of the pixies only lasting a few days before they starved.
Gorble had enjoyed watching them do so, helping him ease his shame.
He had grown senile in his old age, having left a cage unlatched shortly before he'd died.
Dudley wondered where Gorble's body was, still not knowing.
He wouldn't ask, thinking instead of the experiments Gorble had been doing.
Dudley had been interested, which pleased the man to no end.
He had much to teach.
Dudley eventually arrived in the hall, decked to a tee in his new clothes.
He smiled as Gorble appeared within his frame.
"Fear not Dudley," said Gorble. "There are other avenues available to you, Hogwarts was just the first."
Dudley nodded, glad they'd been able to discuss it as he retrieved the key.
It was another stroke of genius, yet not his own.
He'd felt guilty telling Harry differently, saying he'd strapped it to his chest for safe keeping.
Harry had laughed, it sounded like something Dudley would do. Even now, Dudley wasn't sure why he'd told Harry differently.
Oh, he thought; feeling the key rise from the back of his throat.
That was why, it was disgusting. Why had he listened to Gorble?
The man was grinning at him, it had been him who'd devised the key's storage.
"I'll be back later."
Gorble nodded, watching him vanish with a smile.
Dudley would go far, no doubt in his mind.
And one day, he too would join the ranks of Slytherin Lords.
AN
Sorry for the longer wait, just been taking my time writing the latest chapters.
I like Poppy in this, and Gorble too: he and Dudley are like father and son.
Now we've got Dudley's expulsion out of the way, you'll see what he's got planned to get himself back to Hogwarts.
It's where the actions at, and just think of his return… ;)
Latest chapter is available on my Pa – treon dot com / bactum, where you can read ahead and support me in becoming a full-time super awesome FanFiction writer!
Cool.
Till next time!
