A/N: Hello! Thanks for clicking on my story! This is my very first fanfiction, please review and leave as nuch constructive critique as possible, the more something can be improved, the more it can be enjoyed!
Disclaimer: JK Rowling and a bunch of other companies own these characters, I do not!
Dudley, Harry and Vernon's Heart Attack
In Privet Drive Number 4 it was a perfectly normal Saturday morning.
Since it was the Summer holidays, Dudley was at home and enjoying his overflowing third bowl of breakfast cereal while reading a Garfield comic strip, which he didn't understand the joke of. Vernon was looking at the daily Newspaper, complained about an escaped convict he, if he would be in charge, would have executed on the spot("Mass murdering Maniacs can't ever be trusted!") and Petunia clutched her cup of coffee while nervously observing a few birds, many of them far too close to her most precious flowers.
"Vernon Dear, when did you say Marge was coming to visit us? Next week?" Petunia asked, thinking about the vicious pet she would bring along and its unquenchable desire to turn the garden into a battlefield. But then again, the Freak should earn his keep and getting him traumatized for the rest of his life was always an enjoyable thought.
"Yes, Friday at 4 in the afternoon, if someone doesn't jump in front of the train", Vernon replied without looking up from the paper. The entire morning he had a tight, pressing feeling in his chest but it was probably nothing.
"Dudley, what are you going to do today? Do you want to go somewhere?", the man asked his son who was, with a face that nearly looked as if it was concentrating, staring at his comic. He was very proud of the boy, although his weight had already pushed 3 chairs beyond breaking point. They were of cheap built anyway, and the boy was outgrowing Vernons yearly vertical achievements in the horizontal, so he needed to eat.
"Uh, I don't know… Piers is in London and Malcolm travelled somewhere with his family, a country called… Atlantis…no, Antarctica… no Australia, that was it! The other mates are gone too, I don't know where", Dudley responded, using all the brainpower he could muster.
"So, do you want to…", Vernons voice started to faint, his eyes grew wide and he slammed his hand against his chest," Oh God…I can't… My heart! …", he collapsed and tumbled from his chair. The collision of Vernon and the Floor caused an old lady, that was walking her dog outside the Dursley residence to throw herself on the ground and have a World War 2 flashback while Dudleys breakfast bowl jumped directly into his face.
"Vernon? VERNON!", Petunia screamed and rushed to his side. Dudley took a few seconds to register what happened, as his brain needed to recharge and didn't know why his vision had a milky white tint. His mother started to press repeatedly on the chest of her unresponsive husband and, when her pounding didn't receive a reaction from the man, went into full hysteria.
"Dudley, help me bring Dad to the car, the ambulance won't make it in time!", she shouted at the boy. He wanted to giggle at the suggestion (After all, what was Freak for?), but didn't dare as he saw the look in his mothers eyes. He grabbed the arms while she took the legs and they pushed and pulled him out of the house and to the car. Would someone have seen it, it would be considered a herculean feat. With Petunias adrenaline fueled and Dudleys fear-induced strength, they managed to heave Vernon into the Backseat.
After she closed the door, she turned to Dudley: "Dudley, I cant take you along to the hospital, you have to watch the house! Do you understand? Don't tell anyone what happened now, anyone! I will call here once we are at the hospital!", Petunia drilled into a sweating and panting Dudley. When he seemed to understand although it was hard to tell, she got into the car and drove away, leaving tire marks on the road.
After watching the car speed of and see Vernon fly of the backseat and into the roof as it raced over the speedbumps, Dudley went back inside and headed straight for the freshly refilled Ice Cream Freezer, which was its only purpose.
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For Harry Potter it was a fairly normal Saturday, although only he would call it normal.
At 7 AM his uncle opened the door to his room, which was so well secured it would have made Slytherins Chamber go red with shame. Hedwig noticed the ruckus, screeched at Harry and Vernon and flew out the window. In a very nasty way he got awoken(It involves Vernons fist and Harrys privates), pulled out of bed and was, in the loving way only a family knows, kicked down the staircase. The orders to wait until his uncle came down and then he would make breakfast were told to him. Meanwhile his uncle went into his room, shut the windows, broke the Geneva convention with chemical warfare by utilizing all the gas stored inside his intestines, giggled to himself and closed the door. Then he went to the bathroom, released all the fluid and solid matter that didn't pay the rent, couldn't be bothered to wash his hands, noticed an unpleasant feeling in his chest and strolled down the staircase, grabbed his nephew by the throat and pulled him into the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Harry had years of training when it came to cooking, since early childhood he was used as a private chef by his relatives. He didn't get to eat what he cooked, the leftovers were reserved for him, if there were any and if those didn't have to much saliva or other non-digestible objects in or on them.
"If you mess up the breakfast, Boy, then you will regret it! And don't even think about using magic or any tricks to help you! You filthy freak! Lazy and crazy, that's what you are! (A selfsatisfied smirk crept upon his face as he heard himself say a little, unintended and not very ambitious rhyme) You should be kissing my Arse for all that this family has done for you! And you're not doing that only because I don't want to be infected by you and your freakishness!", Vernon told him with a cold and contempt filled voice as Harry struggled to reach the top drawer of the fridge, where the bacon and eggs were.
With ease and in remarkably short time he cooked up enough food to feed an entire restaurant, or just the men of the Dursley family and ate his breakfast. It consisted of very old, moldy bread, rancid butter and a cup of water. In the meantime, Vernon went to fetch the newspaper and after reading the headline" MASS MURDERER ESCAPED! BE CAREFUL AND ALERT!" he told Harry "I do hope he gets you, you waste of space!". Harry replied:" Let's all hope for the best!" and both of them certainly did. After finishing he had to wash his plate and his uncle barked at him to get to his room.
After getting punched in the stomach and kicked in his room, he had to take a very deep breath which turned out to be a near fatal mistake. He coughed and his eyes began to tear, but he knew he had to open the windows or a terrible end would come upon him. Stumbling to the windows, he ripped them open and fresh air started to pour in which saved his life.
He really despised his uncle, especially after the man found out that he couldn't do magic outside of Hogwarts. Wouldn't it have been for the house elf Dobby and his well-meant but poorly executed Plans, he could have used the threat of magic against his relatives and lived a life of peace. Thankfully his only companion in Privet Drive, his pet owl Hedwig, survived Vernons warcrime and flew out the window to land on the roof of the opposite house to watch Harry with great interest and pity.
Finally, after writing a letter to Hermione, asking her how to obtain a lethal poison in his situation( he was certain she wouldn't give him any advice, Hermione was a very determined Humanist after all) he let his thoughts drift to his favourite past time activity: Writing and practicing speeches for the moment he would be out of this place and let abuse pour down upon his "family".
Beautiful thoughts involving Vernon, Dudley, Petunia and a very hungry Crocodile were suddenly interrupted by Petunia screaming "VERNON!". This was followed by noises that indicated something big and heavy being dragged over the floor, into a car which then sped off at an inappropriate speed for a residential area on Saturday morning.
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Dudley considered the Ice cream freezer to be his Treasure Chest, something he had to guard against friend and foe, or Vernon and Harry. A thick and heavy steel-chain, with two 5-digit combination locks were the measures taken by Dudley to ensure the continued safety of his most valued possession. Memorizing the 2 combinations took him an entire day, but it was absolutely worth it since not a single spoon of icy, sweet and sugary goodness had left his freezer. But now he was all alone, Harry was locked away in his room (or more precisely Dudleys spare room he graciously left to his cousin) and the Pillage and Plunder could begin.
Thoughts about his parents left his mind the same moment he opened the door and the sight of Chocolate-Brownie-Fudge Ice Cream greeted his eyes. A massacre involving 15 different flavors of Ice cream, a ridiculously large spoon and Dudley ensued.
After about half an hour the phone of Privet drive screamed to be noticed. Dudley, who was so covered with chocolate that most people would have found his look to be racist, heard those screams and feeling the need to do a good deed after his massacre, headed towards it.
"Hello? Dudley?"
"Who is this?" asked Dudley, very surprised and a bit frightened that the Phone knew his name.
"Dudley, this is mommy! Are you alright?" the phone answered.
"Mommy? Where are you? Why are you calling me?" Dudley asked, as he had genuinely forgotten what had happened in the morning.
"We are in the hospital, sweetie! Daddy is alright, he had surgery and is unconscious, he will wake up later! Is everything alright? Please tell me everything is alright!", a very distraught voice asked him.
Dudley had to understand the information he just received, resulting in a jump-start of his brain and after a few to many seconds, remembered what had happened and responded.
"Oh good, tell Dad I want a skateboard. I'm fine.", he answered and hung up.
Now he was faced with a choice. He could either go back to the sight of his crime or head towards the toilet, for a very much needed relief. He chose option number 2, mainly because he needed to get rid of unnecessary weight and then he remembered that he left the freezer open, which would result in something Harry would get the blame for and he would get a good laugh out of.
What followed, the rats of the sewer would call "The Rape of Plumbing". Its perpetrator would deny any and every blame and shift it to a wizard, who even with the use of magic didn't know how to get rid of it.
On his way back to the kitchen (the use of the toilet was hard work for Dudley and he needed energy) he came across Harrys room, although who the room belonged to was debatable.
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Harrys day got better the instant the deadly fumes left his room. Normally, Petunia would have burst into his room after breakfast and given him chores for a week, all due by the end of the day. While he was doing those chores, Dudley would have enjoyed himself by throwing a multitude of objects (Which were not limited to inanimate beings or solid, dry matter) at him, most of the time accompanied by a list of insults. Vernon would seek his company at random times during the day, mostly when commercial breaks were ruining his "very productive mental labour" and he needed to tell Harry why he was worthless, a waste of a good mans time and space, a freak and good-for-no-work-except-canonfodder addition to this household. Harry was very much used to this, yet he didn't like it one bit, not even a tiny part of one bit.
Today was different. The pre-breakfast work was all the same, yet there was no one at his door after his guards ate their breakfast. There wasn't even an indication that they were here, which was especially likely since the family car left in quite the hurry this very morning.
'This must be what Heaven is like', thought Harry while he was genuinely happy. 'I hope there is magic in the afterlife, maybe one of the ghosts at school knows'.
Briefly Harry thought about what Vernon had shown him in the morning and caught himself imagining the Mass Murderer blowing up the car with the entire Dursley family inside. Then he was interrupted by Hedwig, who was nibbling at his ear and had a letter and a package attached to her leg.
It was from Hermione and read:
Dear Harry
Thank you for writing me, please do it more often, I am always so worried about you after all the things you told me about your family and their abuse!
Please, PLEASE consider a peaceful solution! Violence is not and will never be the Answer! Your relatives are horrible and you shouldn't live with them, but in the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity! Engage them with what they expect, it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate and then you show them your superiority. You don't battle with them, you show them that battling against you is futile and that it would only affect them! Make it so that even they will understand it! I cant give you an exact recipe for success, but if you give me more details, maybe I could…
And Thank you for writing to me first! If you wrote to Ron, he would probably recommended to burn the house down with them inside and that would have led to even more trouble!
I gave you a few cookies along the way so you don't starve!
Please write whenever you need to, I will help you as best as I can!
Good Luck!
Hermione
PS: If you have the opportunity, please tell Ron that I didn't mean to insult him by recommending a few books, Thanks!
Harry had always thought of Hermione as a radical Pacifist, but this surprised him. She wasn't against Violence and War, she was against the prolonged use of it. A swift, precise and overwhelming showcase of potential to the right eyes at the right time, not even its use, were her methods. Yet he didn't complain and saw more and more sense in her arguments, so a plan would have started to form much sooner, if it weren't for the delicious cookies and the following interruption.
"BANG!" "BANG!" "BANG!"
The door quivered.