Ok, so I finally got inside of Vernon's head and I really want to know what you guys think of it. Oh and thankyou to shrimp strifry for giving me an idea, as you can see, I adjusted it slightly, but it's still the same in essentials.
I'm also thinking of writing a story that follows the progress of Tom Riddle through his years at the orphanage in an attempt to explain what made him so twisted. Let me know if you think it's a shoddy idea or a good one. Oh and if you have ideas for this story tell me, I know basically where the story's going, but your ideas could add meat onto what is now a skeleton. Wow, long author notes section, and please review.
Rowling owns it, not me, the end.
Chapter Four: Vernon, Ginny and Bat Bogey Hexes.
Dudley rolled over in bed as he woke up, and tried to remember what he had been dreaming about. He was fairly sure it had something to do with the mirror in the Weasley's kitchen that had yelled, 'Porky!' at him for the past few days. He had received a huge shock the first time it had happned, and couldn't help being put off the huge plate of food Mrs. Weasley had placed in front of him just a few minutes later.
Dudley sighed, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to go to sleep. Living at the Burrow was bliss apart from the ungodly waking hours, that were dictated by that insane cuckoo clock of theirs. He tried to shut out the raucous sound that it was now making with little success. The sound seemed to be able to penetrate even the furthest corners of the house.
In a last ditch attempt to get some sleep he shoved his pillow over his head, this was greeted by a soft giggle. The giggle woke him faster than even the clock would have. He sat bolt upright in bed and looked straight at the petite brunette perched on the bedside table. "Roxanne!" He pronounced her name angrily, as though it was an accusation, "What are you doing in here?" He looked over at George to see if her presence bothered him at all, but as usual the redhead was staring sullenly up at the ceiling.
"Waking you up for breakfast,"she replied, her cool, unconcerned voice unnerving him as usaul. Her hazel eyes were dancing wickedly. it was as though she knew that her very presence made him uncomfortable.
He sighed, "Couldn't you have knocked or something?"
She paused, considering it for a second, "Well I guess I could have, but you look so funny when you're sleeping…" she trailed off, and it was with difficulty that Dudley suppressed a growl. Roxanne could be maddening at times. He would always be thankful to her for being the bearer of good news though. Her letter had been of the utmost importance to him that night.
"Would you kindly leave while I get ready to come down?" he asked her, with all the mock politeness of a courtier.
"Yeah, just don't try and go to sleep again," with that she left, pulling the door closed gently behind her.
Dudley got out of bed, and began to get dressed, thinking all the while. Mostly it was about Roxanne, much as he tried to deny it, he was not just grateful to her for her letter. He admired evereything about her, even how good at annoying him she was.
Dudley had no idea how to behave around Roxanne, and it was simply infuriating that she always seemed to possess a calm, presence of mind. Of course, Dudley had had feelings for girls in the past, but it had been in his gang days. He had generally just bullied them into going out with him, or scared them terribly when they continued to refuse. Somehow he didn't think that either tactic would work with Roxanne, more likely she'd hex him if he tried either one of them on her.
Dudley skipped downstairs feeling light hearted, the buttery sunshine filtering through the windows had him in a good mood and if Harry had been here it would have been as near to perfect as any morning could get. On his way down he caught a glimpse of his father, who had obviously just woken up and was in a rather dishevelled state. He looked even grumpier than usual, though Dudley couldn't really blame him for that, considering that Ginny Weasley had lost her temper with him the night before and performed her infamous bat bogey hex. Dudley laughed as he remembered Ginny's face going as red as her hair with anger, then she had cast her spell.
In the past, Dudley would have felt sorry for his father, but he had thoroughly deserved it. Everyone who was currently residing at the Burrow knew that Ginny was in love with Harry. Dudley's father, however, did not seem to understand that when someone is in love with someone else, they do not generally take well to having that person insulted every five seconds.
Ginny's attack seemed to have had little effect upon his father, except for that he now grumbled about, 'That good for nothing Potter' under his breath instead of out loud and threw frightened glances at Ginny every now and again. The Weasley's, all of whom had tempers that matched their hair, didn't seem to like this muttering much and likened it to that of a house elf they had once known. Kreacher sounded like a pain in the neck.
Personally though, Dudley had been getting along with all of the Weasley's quite well, with the exception of George of course. His roommate refused to speak or look at him. Dudley got the distinct impression that George thought it unfair that a person like Dudley whom he perceived as useless, got to live, while the life of someone more worthy, like Fred, was simply snuffed out.
The rest of the Weasley's though, were extremely friendly and Dudley had to admire their attitudes, even so recently after the loss of their brother and son. His mother too, seemed to get along better with Mrs. Weasley, after that awkward, stiltedness to their conversations had worn away. Dudley was pretty sure that Petunia liked Molly more than she had liked any of the Mrs. Next-Doors she'd tried to make friends with over the years.
His thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt, when he hit the bottom of the stairs and the scent of coffee and pancakes drifting over from the kitchen completely overwhelmed him. Thinking of nothing but his stomach, which seemed to be floating at the thought of more of Mrs.Weasley's delicious food, he rushed over to the kitchen.
Upon entering, he felt his rapidly rising stomach came crashing back down to earth. There was only one seat left at the kitchen table and it was opposite a clearly angry Vernon. Wondering how his father had managed to get down before him, Dudley dropped into the seat next to Ginny, greeting her casually and trying to ignore the jargon that was spilling out of his father's mouth. Instead he focused his attention on the pancakes Mrs. Weasley had just placed in front of him, forcing his face into a polite, disinterested expression.
Vernon stared across the table at his son, no the person who had once been his son and he felt the fury rise within him. There he sat, that ridiculous smile on his face as he surveyed his breakfast, he looked goofy to say the least. The boy obviously thought him, an old, bigoted, fool of a man.
Dudley was probably right, but Vernon had his reasons for being the way he was. They were all the same these wizards; they acted on the slightest impulse, like the girl had yesterday, like James had that time when he had been at Petunia's house for the holidays, visiting Lily. Vernon had been there too, visiting Petunia and it had been his first run in with a wizard.
He still remembered it clearly, the day when James Potter had decided to teach an insolent Muggle a lesson. He had called Lily a freak and that had been it, James' temper snapped. Vernon had been shoved into a fire, but not a normal one, a green one, the ones the wizards used when they wanted to go places. Choking on some powdery stuff that was swirling around in the fire, Vernon was transported to a place he didn't recognise.
His time in the strange harshly lit room had been one of the most traumatic experiences of his life. Vernon remembered cowering in the corner furthest away from the assortment of floating jars. He had not wanted to discover what their contents were, but he had vague suspicions as to what they were.
Of course he only had to endure a few minutes in the room before Potter had come to get him, saying, "You had to choke out that, eh Dursley?" Still, even just thinking of that room made the bile rise in Vernon's throat. James Potter had not meant to scare him out of his wits, merely to get back at Vernon for calling Lily a freak. Ginny Weasley had not intended to hurt him too badly yesterday, she'd just lost it. The thing was, when wizards lost their tempers, the consequences were scary for those on the receiving end, even if the wiard had not intended for it to be.
Vernon was afraid of magical people. not for no reason as his son seemed to think, but because if they ever got angry and made a mistake, that mistake could be irreversible. Of course, Dudley was not to know all this, he thought his father a raving lunatic. Vernon would never be able to tell his son the truth, because telling the truth involved admitting to what had happened with James which was something Vernon would prefer not to share with others. Besides, Vernon thought bitterly, even if Dudley did know, it's not as though he would have any sympathy for his father. He would just think it was Vernon's own fault for antagonising James, just like he had yesterday when Ginny had hexed him.
Vernon prodded at his pancakes moodily; his insulting tirade aimed directly at 'Potter' came to a halt as something finally hit him. He had realised with a sensation of shock that it was not against Harry Potter, that he ranted, but against James, the person who was responsible for one of the scariest things that had happened to Vernon in the course of his life. He'd been confusing the two, for god knows how many years, just because Harry was the image of his father.