Ok, ok. ok. I know. Dudley. Not everyone's favorite character. Not mine either. Until I started this chapter. I've always had rather grand plans for Dudley and now he's actually tolerable if not enjoyable. He actually was very easy to write and this chapter kinda took off on its own.
Just the same warnings for last chapters here.
Sorry. No Crescent here or Hylaarr and Osset're re. You'll see them next chapter.
July 30th
Morning.
Dudley was not smart. Everyone knew that. His teachers knew, and his classmates. Even his miserable cousin Harry knew but then Dudley had come to the conclusion that Harry was smarter then him and would therefore know. The only people who did not know were his parents. Dudley would have liked to think that they were merely being polite in not mentioning it but if anything Vernon and Petunia Dursley lacked, and in actuality they lacked quite a lot, it was the ability to be polite.
No Dudley was not smart. But he also wasn't as dumb as everyone thought he was. For instance Dudley knew he was fat. He knew he ate more than other kids did and therefore was larger than them. He didn't really mind because although they might say mean things about him behind his back they never said them to his face. Well at least not after that first time.
It was fairly easy for word to spread around that Dudley was a bully. As big as he was the first time he had instinctively used his fists to get what he wanted, as he was used to doing at home, he had knocked the kid down hard enough to make him cry. That had surprised him. It really had. The reason was because whenever Dudley knocked his cousin down he never cried.
That was when he realized something wasn't right.
When Dudley was five Harry started cleaning his room. He didn't realize it at first as his mum would distract him with a snack but one day he finished early and ran up the stairs to his room only to stop short in the doorway. Surprise held him speechless as he found his cousin struggling with the vacuum . Harry, on the other hand, had paled upon seeing him and quickly finished before scrambling around him and out the door flinching as Dudley automatically threw a punch his way.
After that Dudley made sure to hurry and finish in order to sneak up and watch. He didn't know why he did it. He supposed it was the novelty at first. His mum hand been the one to clean before but she did it much faster. Harry had to pick up all the strewn toys and put them in order first. Then gather the dirty laundry that hadn't made its way to the hamper yet and make the bed. That was always a sight to see. Harry being younger was obviously smaller than Dudley and removing the sheets alone was tricky business. Then he would have to wrestle the vac in order to get it to clean the carpet. All in all it was rather a fascinating thing to watch but Dudley never knew why.
The first time Harry had sucked up one of Dudley's toys into the vacuum he threw a crying, bellowing fit and his mum came running as she always did. After frantically checking him over she shrieked at Harry to explain. Quietly Harry had and, angry at the loss of his toy, Dudley had burst into even more tears and wailed that he had done it on purpose. His mum had fussed over him and hissed at Harry to 'take that darn thing' outside and get it opened up. After promising Dudley she would make sure he got his toy back she had followed Harry.
Dudley had hurried to dry his face and rushed after her, anxious to see how ruined it was when it had gone threw all those pipes, but had stopped short when he saw his mum, standing at the edge of the stairs, gripping Harry's arm a bit to tightly. "Boy, you are going to learn." She said, finishing what seemed to be a lecture. Dudley was quite familiar with Harry getting lectures by then. But suddenly his mum gave a little push and Harry toppled over, still gripping the vac, and disappeared down the stairs. There was a horrible series of thuds and then a crack and a crunch. His mum had sneered like she did at the muck she found in the sink and started down after him. Slightly worried about his cousin he crept to the banister to peer down. Dudley had fallen down the stairs the year before. Only half way but he had still broken his arm. Remembering the pain he was relieved not to hear any tears. His cousin must not have been hurt that much if he wasn't crying.
But had Harry lay at the bottom holding his wrist. The heavy metal vacuum was also down at the bottom of the stairs lying on his leg which looked a bit off after the fall. He was very pale and was biting his lip like he did sometimes after a private lecture with Dudley's dad. Tears had gathered in his eyes but he didn't let them fall and Dudley was slightly impressed. He waited for his mum to, not hug Harry perhaps as she never did that, but maybe offer him a sweet? His mum always said sugar made any pain go away. But she didn't. Instead she shrieked at him not to be so clumsy. "GET UP, Boy!" She had hissed. His cousin had tried to obey but his hurt wrist had made it difficult to push the vacuum off and his leg must have been hurt as well as it collapsed underneath him when he tried to stand. When he wasn't quick about getting back up his mum let out a slap to his head that made it visibly snap back.
That was when Dudley first learned what a punishment was.
That evening after Harry was thrown outside to spend the night after sicking up all over the clean kitchen floor Dudley decided to ask why.
His mum had pursed her lips, as she always did when discussing Harry. "Punishment." She had snapped. "Nothing for you to worry about Dudley dear."
Dudley had gone back to eating but had wondered. He remembered falling down the stairs. It had hurt and his mum and dad had rushed him to the ER quicker then he could complain much about it. But Harry wasn't even being let off chores to go to bed early. He was thrown out in the yard like one of Aunt Marge's dogs after nipping Dudley's hand. Dudley had concluded if punishment was like that he didn't ever want to get one.
After that Dudley didn't pay much attention to his cousin's punishments. It wasn't as if they weren't deserved after all. His mum was always saying what a disobedient and horrid boy Harry was. If his cousin didn't want punishments then he shouldn't do things that got him them.
But that didn't hold up very long as Dudley soon discovered that his cousin and himself weren't exactly equal in the Dursley household.
It happened that Dudley broke a dish one evening. A very expensive piece of china. His mum was very sad. She had cried when she ordered Harry to pick up the pieces and throw them out before putting the rest of the good china away. "Dudley's just not old enough to enjoy tea with expensive things yet." She had said to his dad and patted Dudley softly on the shoulder in an its-ok kinda way.
His dad had chuckled gruffly and agreed. "Maybe next year, Pet." He had said and made a face when his mum had looked away. His dad didn't care much for tea.
But suddenly there was a crash. His mum had gasped and rushed into the next room his dad barely a step behind her. Curious Dudley had followed. And there was another piece of his mum's good china strewn in pieces all over the floor. He had waited for his mum to burst into tears again but she didn't. She just stood there staring at Harry for the longest time while Harry had whispered apologies and cringed. A loud smack startled Dudley into jumping. Her ring had made a small cut on Harry's cheek and he had fallen into the broken glass. And when she picked up a larger piece of the china plate and stabbed it threw his cousin's hand Dudley had backpedaled so fast he was nearly sick. It also might have been Harry's blood pouring all over the carpet that made his stomach queasy
Hurrying back to the table he had vowed fiercely never to break a dish again. His mum and dad had stayed in the other room for quite a long while and once he heard a stifled scream. In order to distract himself he had stuffed a biscuit into his mouth, despite his queasy stomach, and drank his tea. After another biscuit or so his stomach had settled into normal routine and he had found the sound of his chewing drown out any other sounds that could be heard. When his parents came back he didn't even look up.
"We took too long to punish the boy, Pet" His dad had chuckled. "Dudder's is ready for super, now."
His mum had looked over at him and smiled sweetly. "Well can't let my dumpling be hungry," she said and got up to start cooking.
A bit later he had wandered into the kitchen and found his mum chopping vegetables with a knife. She did it quite fast and he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off it remembering as she stabbed the glass threw his cousin's hand. Feeling a bit sick he asked for a snack and sat at the table eating 'til supper trying to drown out the sound of her chopping and the memory of blood.
After that Dudley did what any normal child who had been raised by Petunia and Vernon Dursley would do. He blamed Harry for everything. At first he blamed Harry for his parents having to punish him like that. It really wasn't fair he had told himself. They gave up time they could have spent on Dudley in order to punish his cousin. Dudley began to resent his cousin and blame him for everything, getting him in trouble just out of spite. Than when he realized his parent would spend more time with Harry behind closed doors when he did that so he stopped doing it so much. He wanted his parents to spend time with him after all.
But secretly, a part of him was afraid of them. Of what made them like that around Harry. He started having nightmares. In them his parents thought he was Harry and kept hitting him and hitting him. And it had hurt so bad he had woken up crying, grateful when his mum came in and held him, assuring him, though she didn't know it, that she wasn't the monster in his nightmares. After a particularly bad night he woke early and went downstairs only to stop before entering the kitchen. Hearing Harry getting a lecture for being a freak had halted him in his tracks. When his mum started accusing his cousin of giving him nightmares he had taken a deep breath and walked in, interrupting his mum mid-sentence. After that he was quieter when he woke up in the middle of the night.
It was that fear that made his cousin's life worse. He was terribly afraid that his parents would punish him the way they did Harry. Perversely he started acting up. Throwing more fits, breaking things, evening using a cuss word he'd heard Pier's dad say. They never did anything to him which helped sooth the fear and also had the added bonus of getting him more time with them. But as easy as it was to develop a habit of throwing a fit he also developed one of blaming Harry when he did something wrong. Such as eat the dessert his mum had been saving for tea with the neighbor ladies or breaking something such as his toys. His parents had never shown the slightest sign of wanting to punish him as they did Harry but that fear that they would one day remained.
After that whenever Harry had private lectures with his mum and dad Dudley would eat. He would shove whatever was near into his mouth and ignore what was going on. Whenever he noticed new punishments on Harry, which was rather rare as Harry wore long sleeves and never cried, he ignored those too. Sometime, when he noticed his mum or dad getting mad at Harry he would bring up an achievement he had done in school, or tell a story, or even throw a fit over something. He didn't always do that but sometimes.
Dudley first discovered Harry could do magic when a wizard came to the house. It was the day after they had gone to get Harry's shots for school and they had abruptly gone home without Harry. Dudley hadn't been able to figure it out on the drive home but he hadn't dared ask. His parents had been so pale and silent he had merely went on eating a chocolate bar his mum had pulled out of her purse before she got in the driver's seat and stayed silent too. Late that night he had heard his dad get into the trunk of the Bentley and then, a bit later, heard the cupboard door slam shut. Visualizing his dad doing up the locks he had closed his eyes very tightly and went to sleep.
The next day Harry wasn't there and there were indeed locks on the cupboard. His mum and day were anxious all morning. He had sat watching the tellie until noon when his mum finally snapped at him to 'Shut that darn thing off!' and do something quiet in his room. More shocked that she had spoken to him that way then at her tone he had grabbed a handful of biscuits and went upstairs. When he was safe in his room with the door closed he flicked on the tellie, turned it up loud, and proceeded to ignore whatever was going to go on downstairs.
Around late afternoon he had gotten hungry. Having finished the biscuits a long time ago he switched off the tellie and thought about going to see if there was supper. Listening intently he had heard nothing but silence and had taken his time trying to decide if that was good or bad. The sick feeling in his stomach was back though and he really wanted some food to calm him down. Absently he walked to the window and to his surprise the most shocking sight greeted him. A old man in a bright yellow dress, matching hat, and what looked like a red bath robe was walking down the street. Dudley had stared, trying to figure out if he had ever seen him before. The only old person who lived on Privet Drive was Mrs. Figg and she wasn't nearly as ancient as this strange old man appeared to be.
To Dudley's further amazement the old man headed towards number 4 and stopped just outside the walk. He had stood there watching for a moment before pulling out an old pocket watch, sighing, and appearing to wait as if for an appointment. Dudley had studied the strange man closer, positive he was one of those crazy freaks his dad was always on about. The fact that he didn't know what a freak was exactly or that his dad's definition of freak did indeed match the old man waiting patiently outside number 4 privet drive didn't really strike Dudley as the coincidence his inward thought was. Suddenly the old man had put his watch away and stepped onto the front path leading to the door.
In a rush Dudley hurried to the banister, trying to be quiet but eager to see what the old man wanted. A brrring as the door bell sounded and then the click, click, click of his mum's heels on the hard wood floor.
"Good Evening. Petunia Dursley I presume?" The crazy old man didn't sound very crazy at first. Instead he spoke in a courteous but grave tone. Something in Dudley's stomach slipped out of place. "Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Dudley almost laughed but his' mum's genuine gasp of fright stopped him. Then the crazy old man asked to speak to Harry and the sick feeling in Dudley's stomach nearly made him sick up.
When the old man refused to let his mum say no Dudley thought he knew what was going on. The lady, Mrs. Mooney, who came just after Harry started school had the same tone as the old man. It was a strict, no nonsence tone. His teachers often used it on him in school and Aunt Marge had once used it on him after he stole candy out of her handbag without asking. It was a tone that made him think his parents were the ones who had done something bad and were now going to get in trouble.
The crazy old man entered the house and pleasantly led the way to the sitting room while Dudley's mum trailed behind, her fingers clutching each other painfully tight. When he entered the sitting room Dudley could no longer see what was going on and he was forced to creep down the stairs in order to hear. When the old man asked Harry how he was Dudley was again reminded of Mrs. Mooney and held his breath waiting for Harry's answer.
He needn't have worried though. It seemed the old man was rather barmy after all, as he started on about Halloween and then Harry's parents. As Dudley had never had someone he knew die he didn't really much understand Harry's quieter tone. But then everything got real quiet and Dudley started to worry that something had happened. Something real bad.
But then the old man was talking again and indeed it seem he was a bit off in his head.
"I suppose you know about Lord Voldemort then Harry?" The old man had asked. Dudley hadn't been able to see anything so he didn't know Harry's answer but the old man conveniently explained.
"You see years ago that dark wizard was nothing more than a boy your age. He lived in a rather grim orphanage as his parents had died too. And he also had magic." Dudley had almost laughed but his dad had made a muted strangled sound and Dudley had gulped down the amusement in dismay. "He was able to gain a semblance of control over it at a very young age but sadly he also had a tendency towards cruelty, secrecy, and domination."
"Do you know why, sir?" Harry had asked a bit louder than he had been speaking before. Dudley had heard the old man sigh.
"When children are left to their own devices, ignored, or neglected they do not learn right from wrong. Then, perhaps, others are cruel towards them," There was a deliberate pause that made Dudley swallow hard. "It teaches them to be cruel back. I believe such a thing happened to the young Voldemort and he was forever scarred by it. When he grew up he simply sought to make sure if there was pain others suffered it and not him."
Biting his lip he had stopped listening in order to process that. For some reason that rang a bell. It sounded like something that could apply to Harry, especially if the crazy old man wasn't so crazy and Harry really was a wizard or whatever. But uncomfortably it also sounded as if it could apply to him as well. At least the part about him not learning right from wrong and making sure others would hurt before he would. It was what he had been doing all along. Pushing Harry into the line of fire just in case his parent might aim his way.
"Utter nonsense."His dad suddenly bellowed. Only his dad sounded real bad, like he had that one time he got pneumonia. His bellow sounded more like broken car but he was able to pick up volume once he started. "That boy killed him! You said so it the letter you left with him on the front stoop! He is a murderer! An evil murdering little bas-"
"Enough." Dudley had been grateful. His stomach was hurting enough without having to listen to another tirade about Harry.
"Six years ago I brought you a child whose life I feared for should he be left unprotected. The magic I evoked means that Harry has powerful protection while he can call this house home. I left you a letter explaining his parent's murder and expressing the hope that you would care for him as though he were your own."
Dudley had wanted to whimper but didn't dare. The old man suddenly didn't sound so old. He sounded scary. And Dudley was very scared.
"You did not do as I asked. You have never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and violent cruelty at your hands. The best that can be said is he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy in those pictures on your mantle."
Gaping Dudley hadn't been able to process that for a while. He had known about the punishments, they had made him sick to think about, but he had never once thought of his parents that way. And the barmy old goat had accused his parents of hurting Dudley. He might have not been smart but he'd think he would have noticed if he had had 'appalling damage inflicted' on him.
It was the wind that drew his attention again. It was like a wind had entered the house and tried to blow it away. It was like there was thunder and lightening inside as well. Dudley just couldn't see any of it. He was nearly positive that if he had been in the sitting room he wouldn't have seen it either.
Magic.
That was when he knew magic was real.
"You will never again be able to physically harm Harry Potter." The old man said it quietly but Dudley knew he would never be able to doubt that it would happen the way he said it would. "Should you do so the magic I have used will rise up and do to you exactly what you do to the boy."
Frowning he had tried to work that out but the old man had suddenly walked out of the sitting room and was staring straight at him. He hadn't even the time to dredge up fear before the old man nodded very gravely at him and left quietly out the front door. He hadn't taken time to even breath before he was up the stairs and once again safe in his room with the door shut.
Lying on his bed he had told himself that the old man was barmy and he shouldn't believe a thing he said. The problem was he did.
That weekend was the worst. His mum was either with his dad behind the closed door of their bedroom as he was sick or crying in the bathroom. Harry never came out at except for a trip to the loo. Dudley was mainly left to his own devices and he found it much simpler to eat. He tried to do homework once, as he had a test the next Monday, but he couldn't concentrate. Finally he called up Piers and asked him if he could spend the night at his house. Piers had said his cousin was in town visiting for a month or so but he could come over if he wanted.
The next day at school he failed his test and punched a kid who had the nerve to laugh at his poor grade. Professor Peter had asked him to stay after and as Piers had detention with their maths teacher he had called his mum and said he'd be home after spending time at Piers' house. She hadn't seemed much concerned by that and Dudley had felt sick again when he hung up.
Professor Peter had gently started on about how failing the last test had made it difficult for him to pass at the end of the year.
"I'm sorry, Dudley, but if you don't want to repeat this year your going to have to do much better from now on." His yellow eyes had looked at Dudley and suddenly softened. "Is everything alright, Dudley?" He had asked even more gently and something inside Dudley had broke.
Tears, real tears of fear and heartbreak had welled up and he had started sobbing right in front of his professor. It was so different from crying about a treat he wanted or a toy he didn't have yet. It was work, this type of crying, with heaving sobs and much shaking. Professor Peter had been kind though, and simply laid a hand on Dudley's shoulder and made an odd comforting sound with his mouth.
Finally empty he had sagged into his chair and found himself leaning against Professor Peter's carefully patched vest. Professor Peter had smelled of woods and smoke and of chamomile tea. His hand had stroked his hair softly and he had been very quiet. It was such a change from his mum's frantic sympathy. She hated his crying and would do anything to make it stop which usually ended up with giving him a new toy or sweet. Professor Peter did none of that and Dudley strangely found himself liking his quiet comfort better.
Finally Professor Peter asked what was wrong. He had been expecting it. "Did something happen, Dudley?"
Dudley wasn't smart but he wasn't stupid. He knew Harry hated Professor Peter and it had something do with the commotion at the beginning of the school year and Mrs. Mooney's visit to their house. He knew he really shouldn't say a thing to Professor Peter, especially about his parents, especially about Harry but he was so tired of it all; and he was so stressed.
"My parents have been acting funny." He had muttered into the professor's stomach and refused to look up.
"Ahh." Was all Professor Peter had said at first. Then, "When did that start?"
Dudley had hiccuped. "Friday." He had muttered.
Professor Peter had stroked his hair gently. "Did anything happen?"
Dudley had snorted. Of course something had happened. "Nothing I saw." He was thinking hard but really could only remember eating a lot and ignoring Harry. "But my dad was got real sick and we had to go home. He couldn't stop shaking."
Professor Peter had hmmd soothingly. "What about Harry?"He had asked softly.
Dudley had hesitated a bit before replying. "He slept." There had probably been some sort of punishment. There always was. But that didn't explain his dad in such bad shape.
Professor Peter hadn't answered but Dudley didn't care. He had finally started talking and now he was going to continue. "And then today a strange man visited."
"Oh. Who was he?"
Dudley could feel himself grow angry. He really didn't like that old man. "Just some barmy old man in a dress." Professor Peter's hand had stopped stroking hair for a second before continuing.
"Odd that." He said absently. "Did he say why he called?"
Dudley had shrugged and remained silent after that. It finally occurred to him that Professor Peter was fishing. He clearly wanted to know information about Harry. As he packed up his things he had sighed. Why was everything about Harry? It just seemed unfair.
But softly Professor Peter had offered to help him after school to bring up his grades. "A tutor if you will, Mr Dursley." He had smiled at the title like it was a joke. That smile had reached his eyes and in that instance Dudley had known he was talking to Dudley and that was what he liked. Smiling back he had agreed.
His dad was sick all that week and Dudley thought it best to let him rest. He decided to work on his grades so his mum would have one less thing to worry about. Now and then he'd see Harry but he looked just as pale as his dad did and didn't go to school that week. With nothing better to do Dudley began staying after with Professor Peter and lied to his mum about it as he wasn't sure if she'd like it or not.
He liked Professor Peter. He was calming, and polite, and very quiet. He would serve tea and although he served biscuits too they were really expensive ones. With all the patches on his clothes Dudley wasn't sure he could afford them and was very careful to only take on each day. The small smile the professor gave him showed he noticed but he never said anything.
Dudley had fast learned how to enjoy the one on one attention to it's fullest potential. He merely mentioned how Harry was when he saw him that morning first. Professor Peter would relax after that and then focus on patiently teaching Dudley whatever he hadn't been able to grasp in class. After the day's studies were out of the way they would talk quietly. Dudley learned bits of every thing about odd things. For instance if a rat could fit his head through a hole then the rest of him would follow. Such information was rather useless in Dudley's opinion but when he told the professor that Peter would smile softly and say, "Your intelligent enough to figure out when you need it, Dudley, so just keep it in your brain until you do."
Harry was back at school the second week. It was Wednesday when Dudley came to class to find a substitute in Professor Peter's place. Anxious he had waited after school by Peter's office but he had never come. Neither was he there the next day. It was Lunch Friday before Dudley saw him. He was sitting at the lunch table with the other professors but he looked downright terrible. After school Dudley met him at his office like usual but it was obvious, even to him, that Professor Peter was in no shape to be tutoring him. Despite that Peter had tried, starting a lecture about history. Dudley had ignored that and poured tea for them both, before getting up to reach the tins of biscuits.
"The chocolate ones today, Dudley, if you please." Was all Professor Peter said but he ended up eating three. Dudley was secretly relieved. If the professor had an appetite perhaps he wasn't that sick.
"And how are you today, Dudley?"
Dudley had smiled brightly. "Fine, sir. I got a good grade on my music test yesterday."
"Very good. And how is Harry?" Dudley blinked at the rather blatant question but answered it anyway. "Err, ok. He's not at all sick anymore."
Professor Peter had looked at him and smiled his thanks.
"Err-" Dudley wasn't exactly sure how to put it but he had to ask. "How are you, sir?"
His smile had gotten sad. "Today isn't the best of days, Dudley, but I'm sure by next week I'll be better."
Dudley had nodded but asked anyway, just to make sure. "How do you know?"
Professor Peter had looked at him intently before answering. "A long time ago, when I was a child about your age, I was hurt very badly. As a result I get sick sometimes. It only lasts a few days, though, and then I get better."
Dudley had nodded frowning. What had hurt him? And it happened when he was a kid? Biting his lip he opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
"Was it your parents?" Dudley had asked very softly. "Did they hurt you?"
Professor Peter had grown very still before he set his cup down and leaned forward despite his pain at doing so. "No, Dudley. Parents aren't supposed to do things like that."
It had been a bit hard to breathe. Dudley remembered feeling dizzy when he repeated that to himself. Forcing himself to look up he had looked into Professor's eyes that seemed to be much darker then they were before.
"What about for Punishments?" Dudley had whispered not really wanting to hear the answer. "What if someone does something real bad?"
Professor Peter had just looked at him. "If someone does something bad they are put in prison, Dudley. If a child does something bad they should be corrected, yes. Their parents or guardian should tell them what they did was wrong and then take away privileges, perhaps give swats to the backside." He had looked at Dudley until Dudley couldn't hold his eyes anymore and looked down.
"So what hurt you?" He asked, hoping his professor would change the subject.
Peter had given him a look but had leaned back in his chair until he was comfortable and answered him.
"It was a wolf." Dudley had blinked in shock. "I was attacked by a wolf."
Dudley's mouth had dropped open. "In the woods? Why? Was he hungry? Did he take a bite out of you? Can I see?"
A smile had curved the professor's mouth up. "Yes in the woods. I don't believe he was hungry but he could have been. No he didn't take a bite out of me but he did bite me hard enough to leave a scar. Yes you can see, if you want."
He had been so excited to hear such a thing he almost missed his professor's tone. But luckily he had caught it in time. His professor really didn't want to show him. And he was tired and more than likely wanted to go home. Suddenly looking at the clock had seemed like a good idea and Dudley had been shocked to find it past supper.
Professor Peter had too and suddenly he was ushering Dudley out of his office and into his car as Pier's mum was nowhere in sight. Professor Peter had needed directions and had hesitated strangely before turning onto Privet Drive. Dudley felt bad about that. Now Professor Peter was worried. He shouldn't have said anything he really shouldn't. After all didn't his parents know best? Professor Peter wasn't smarter than them was he?
When the car pulled in front of number 4 he smiled extra brightly at his professor, hoping to reassure him. It seemed to work only slightly and Dudley had felt himself being watched the entire time he walked up to the house. In fact the car only pulled away when he was inside and the door closed.
When Harry had spoken to him he had been shocked and slightly unnerved. Did he know that Dudley had let something slip. That he was friendly with Professor Peter? That part of Dudley wished someone would find out so he could know once and for all if the punishments were bad or not.
It had been Harry starting in on Professor Peter that had made Dudley mad. Professor Peter was the nicest person in the whole world. Harry really had no right speaking like that. Anger had made Dudley forget himself and tell about his friendship with the professor. That had been a mistake. Nearly immediately Harry had started a horrible commotion, and his mum had become hysterical. Dudley still couldn't figure out how he had done that. But what had made Dudley's stomach ache and had turned him back to his food was the private lecture out in the hall. Punishment. That was what would happen.
The magic the barmy old man had cast only just crossed his mind when he heard a small thud then a much larger one. Not two minutes later his dad came in looking dazed aided by his pale mum. Had it worked then? Were the punishments over? It seemed so. After such a fuss Harry should have gotten in so much trouble. And here were his parents not punishing him. It was a dream come true for Dudley. It was a real shame that it didn't last.
Months passed and with them the holidays and then Dudley's birthday. Pleasant months where Dudley got plenty of attention from his parents and Harry was either at school or in his cupboard. His parents ignored Harry completely beyond his mum snapping at Harry to 'Eat more Boy! People will think we starve you.' The only bad spot was his mum hovering over him after school hours ended. She started picking him up from school and nothing would convince her that he needed to stay after. If he wanted to visit Piers his friend had to come over to his house.
His mum and dad had forbidden him from having anything to do with 'that dodgey professor' and nothing, not even the tantrum he threw that lasted for a week, would change their mind. But Dudley was pleased to find his Professor had stopped taking lunch with the faculty and instead would eat in his office. It took a week of that routine before Dudley caught on and then he muttered complaints about having detention and slipped off. Harry never noticed as he had stopped going to lunch as well and spent the entire time in the library. Lunch became a quiet pleasant affair which Dudley enjoyed enormously. He and Professor Peter would chat about his school work and of course Harry. He never once brought up Dudley's slip and Dudley was careful not to do so again.
But all wasn't as pleasant as he thought. His mum had a doctor's appointment on the last day of school and couldn't get home in time to pick him up. She had given him permission to walk home with Piers. He had been overjoyed and got Piers detention, which wasn't very hard, and snuck away to say goodbye to Professor Peter.
For once the professor hadn't smiled when he saw him. In fact he had looked very disappointed and sad. And angry.
At first Dudley had thought it was because he hadn't eaten lunch with him, instead plotting to get Piers detention. He had hesitated at the doorway but entered after a moment and shut the door. Swallowing he had watched as Professor Peter had paced, arms stiffly held behind his back. Once or twice his fist would clench. His eyes were the oddest color, Dudley had noticed. Then he knew it wasn't him missing lunch.
"What happened?" Dudley had whispered. His professor had turned to look at him, and suddenly soften upon actually seeing him, though the disappointment in his eyes didn't lesson.
"Harry." Of course. It was always Harry.
Dudley scowled. "Was he rude again or something? If you want I can tell my dad. He'd punish him for you. Well if I don't mention you by name." The last he muttered and as he was looking down he could excuse himself for having missed the flare of rage that lit his Professor's eyes.
After a moment, though, he spoke and Dudley had noticed the rage underneath his even tone. "And how do you think your dad would punish Harry, Dudley?"
Dudley had froze and looked up very slowly. Letting out a breath he shook his head and didn't answer.
"Tell me Dudley, how does Harry get punished. No dinner? Time out? To bed early?" Dudley had just shaken his head as tears welled up. He really hadn't been ready for that conversation.
" I don't know, Professor, why are you asking me? Why do you care so much about Harry! He's just a stupid little freak and if he gets punished he deserves it!"
This time there was no disappointment in Professor Peter's eyes. Just disgust. And that soon faded to emptiness.
"Do you really believe that Dudley?" He had whispered.
The question had been too soon. Dudley hadn't decided yet. But his professor h
ad looked at him with disgust in his eyes and was looking at him with nothing in his eyes. No disappointment anymore and no hope. He hadn't been able to bear it. "No, Professor. I don't." And he hadn't.
His professor had closed his eyes. "I care about Harry for the same reason I care about you, Dudley." Dudley had felt a bit better at hearing that but waited to hear what else he would say. "You both are living in a home with guardians that are unsuitable."
But Dudley had been confused and finally his Professor had opened his eyes. "Dudley your parents are abusive." He had said it ever so gently and Dudley had shook his head in denial. "Yes, Dudley. Your parents abuse Harry, and they abuse you."
Dudley had opened his mouth to protest. His parents had never hurt him. They hadn't. He would have remembered.
Professor Peter had gripped his shoulders and shook him very slightly. "They hurt you by feeding you too much, encouraging you to do whatever you want, and clearly not teaching you right from wrong if only by example." Dudley had simply shook his head but Peter wasn't done. "They hurt Harry by punishing him unjustly and down right violently. Dudley, that must make an impression on you. Don't you think their hurting you just doing something like that under the same roof as you!"
He had stopped shaking Dudley but Dudley hadn't been able to stop shaking. "Harry deserves it," He had pleaded. "He's bad and mum and dad are just trying to teach him-"
"What? How to be submissive? How to flinch when someone raises their hand. Worse how not to flinch when someone hits him?" Tears had escaped and his professor had gently brushed them away with one hand. "How not to cry?"
"My parents," he had whispered.
"Are not good people, Dudley," he had whispered back. "They are abusive and they won't stop. They will never stop until someone stops them."
That was all the excuse he needed.
"But they have stopped!" Dudley had blurted out. "They haven't punished him in months!"
His professor had just looked at him sadly. "Yes Dudley. They have."
Dudley had remembered the barmy old wizard and breathed a bit easier. "They haven't." he had said it confidently. "They couldn't possibly."
Professor Peter had pulled back. "Dudley. I know you might not have seen it but they've been hiding it from you. I'm sure you don't know the extent of the abuse but trust me. I know what I'm talking about."
"You don't know." Dudley had stared at him determined to make him understand. Everything was ok now. Nothing was wrong. "Someone came to our house. I told you. He made sure they couldn't punish Harry again."
His Professor's eyes had hardened and he had looked equally determined. "But he didn't do anything to guarantee it, Dudley. Their still hurting him."
"NO!" He had yelled it. "No! The barmy old man made sure!" His professor had choked a bit but Dudley had paid him no attention. He was panicking. He knew it was impossible. Everything was fine.
"Dudley, calm down-"
"NO! He made sure!. He stopped them. They haven't. He stopped them. He used m-" Barely stopping in time Dudley had blinked away tears.
"What were you going to say, Dudley?" Professor Peter looked at him as if he'd never seen him before. "Magic, Dudley?" He had whispered.
Closing his eyes he had nodded. There was silence for a while. Then, "I believe you, Dudley." And he had breathed a sigh of relief for a moment before it all fell apart. "And now I need you to believe me." Dudley opened his eyes. "It hasn't stopped. Whatever spell he did, they found a way around it."
Dudley had gasped in disbelief. No. It just couldn't be. "How can you possibly know?" He had whispered.
"Blood. He was bleeding today, Dudley. From hidden wounds." That couldn't be right he had thought. He would have noticed on the way to school. Bloody hell, there hadn't been time. The night before they had gone out, leaving Harry to his cupboard. It was impossible.
"Your wrong." Said Dudley firmly. "You can't possibly know that."
His professor had looked at him and then, as if making a decision, nodded. "Do you remember when I told you I was bit by a wolf, Dudley?" Dudley had warily nodded. "When he bit me he turned me. Do you know what that means?"
Dudley had laughed a little sickly. "You mean made your a werewolf." He had snorted softly. "I'm not that stupid, professor. Werewolves aren't real."
But his professor hadn't laughed and said he though he might be dumb enough to believe it though. "I'm sick once a month. On the full moon I change into a werewolf and I loose my mind. Then there is only the wolf and whatever blood he wants to shed. I have to chain myself up to prevent him from tearing down Privet Drive and killing your parents because he is so angry at them for hurting you and Harry." Dudley had gaped at him. What? "Harry has been – punished - many times in the last few months and, while I admit they weren't like they've been in the past, they were there, Dudley. I could smell his pain."
Dudley had simply stared at Professor Peter. Harry had been right. There was something a little off about him.
Peter had given him a knowing look as if he knew what he was thinking. "And Dudley, today I could smell blood." He had looked at him daring Dudley to deny it. "You know I'm right, Dudley."
Dudley had shook his head and gaped. Then suddenly jumped up. "No. No your wrong. And Harry was right about you! Your not very nice after all."
"Dudley-"
But he shook his head. "No! You know I think you might have only been nice to me cause I'd tell you stuff about Harry." He could feel the tears drop and ignored them. "Well not anymore!"
And he had left. Ran out and found Piers and then challenged him to a race home. And Professor Peter hadn't come after him. He could have caught up to him at any time as Dudley was fat and didn't run very fast. Werewolf indeed he had thought. Some werewolf.
When he got home neither of his parent's cars were there. He let himself into the house and found a note telling him his mum would be home any minute. Still aggravated by his talk with Peter he had turned to the kitchen and found himself a huge snack and sat down to eat it.
It wasn't true. They hadn't done a thing to Harry. They hadn't had the time. Dudley and Harry were gone to school and then when home Dudley could account for every minute they spent awake as Harry would be in his cupboard and Dudley would be with his parents. It was impossible. Unless they did it at night but that was unlikely as his mum always got up real early to wake his dad for work. And even if they found the time they wouldn't for fear of feeling the same punishment themselves. His parents were far to much of pansies for them to want to endure that.
Breathing deeply he decided Harry had been right. Professor Peter was a prat. He really ought to go apologize to his cousin. Or at least warn Harry that the professor knew a whole lot more than he should.
Deciding to do just that he got up quickly, leaving his snack on the table, and hurried to the cupboard where he knew his cousin would be. Opening it quickly he was about to speak when the sight before him nearly made him sick up instead.
There was his cousin, a knife in his hand, pulling it down his arm parallel to several other cuts that all bit just as deeply. They were in strict uniform down both arms that were always well covered by sleeves. Blood had dripped onto the cupboard floor and Harry had frozen, the knife still buried into his skin.
"Harry." He had gasped, feeling faint and not because of the blood either. Professor Peter had told him but he hadn't wanted to listen. He had just stared at his cousin for the longest time.
Finally Harry spoke. "Punishment." He had whispered quietly, almost like he was ashamed. "Aunt ordered."
And Dudley had finally seen it. His parents were . . . bad. They abused Harry and it wasn't right. It was horrible and Dudley was very afraid. And sickened. And in awe that Harry wasn't.
"Don't tell you saw, Dudley, Please" His cousin was begging him not to tell. Why wasn't he begging for help? Why wasn't he telling Dudley to call the police? The knife had lain unheeded in his hands and blood had made a puddle on the floor.
"You bleeding, Harry." Was all he had been able to get out.
"Yeah." Harry had whispered. "Its okay, Dudley. I deserved the Punishment."
Dudley had swallowed hard. "What'd you do?" He had whispered back.
"I haven't done my chores for today." He had said looking guilty.
Dudley had shook his head. "Lucy does the chores now. Your not allowed."
"Yeah." Was all he said back. Dudley just stared until Harry motioned him to scoot back and then quietly closed the cupboard door.
Back in the kitchen, for the first time ever, Dudley hadn't been able to eat. He couldn't tell anyone he had realized. Harry was so- so brainwashed he would claim he had done it to himself voluntarily. He couldn't even tell Professor Peter as school was out and he didn't' know where he lived. Even if he did he wasn't even sure if Professor Peter would listen to him. After the things he said his professor must hate him.
When his parents came home he was in his room with the tellie blaring. When his mum called him down for dinner he was almost sick. In the kitchen Harry was right there at the table just as he'd been for the past few months. His mum was smiling and his dad was tired. It looked just like every night had since Thanksgiving. He hadn't been able to stop his stomach from rolling.
His mum had fussed over him, putting more and more on his plate, and asking what was wrong. Putting her hand to his head she had checked for fever and cooed and fussed despite his grunts of protest that didn't even resemble speech. It was the middle of dinner when he snapped. His dad told Harry to pass a dish that was much to heavy, even for Dudley, and Harry dropped it. His dad had roared at him to get in the cupboard and Harry had left shooting a concerned glance at Dudley as he did.
"Why don't you just punish him here, dad?" He had asked, deceptively casual, and somewhat scared that he was actually going to do it. To speak about everything to his parents. "After all you have a knife right there."
Hid dad had froze, the bite halfway up, his mouth gaping like a caught fish. Dudley had stared challengingly at him. "Its not like I don't know after all."
An very strange look had passed over his dad's face and shiver of pure fear had passed down Dudley's spine. His dad had looked mad. Murderous and quite mad and Dudley had been more afraid then he ever had been in his life. This was it. He had told himself. His nightmares were about to come true. But the blow he expected never came. His dad had moved quicker than he ever thought he could and disappeared into the hall. The sound of the cupboard door slamming open could be heard and then a stifled gasp of pain from Harry.
His mum just sat there staring at Dudley like she had never seen him before. She hadn't even made a move to follow his dad and she hadn't made a move to him. He had expected all kinds of denial and fussing from her but never got it. She just stared at him in horror.
Suddenly Harry screamed and the scream was cut off deteriorating into an awful gurgling sound. Dudley had jumped up and dashed to the hallway. His mum had been right behind him and had followed. The sight that met them would haunt Dudley's sleep for years to come.
Harry had crouched on his knees in front of his dad his hand to his throat as blood poured unceasingly threw his fingers. His had had stood over him a knife, the same one Harry had been using earlier, held loosely in his hand. But the satisfied expression on his face had been what scared Dudley the most. He had looked justified.
"Vernon!" His mum had finally shrieked in panic after staring at the scene for what seemed like hours. "What have you done! You've killed him."
And Dudley had felt the world disappear at those words. Killed. His dad had killed Harry. The last thing he remembered thinking was what would Professor Peter do to his dad when he found out?
That had been yesterday. Harry wasn't dead as he had found out upon waking up. Dudley wasn't sure how it had happened. His mum hadn't been very clear and he hadn't been too eager to listen to her. He hadn't been able to go downstairs yet. His dad was down there, he hadn't been able to go to work that morning, and Dudley didn't want to face him. In fact he didn't want to do much of anything. He just wanted to sleep.
Flipping on the tellie Dudley crept under the covers. He wanted to hide from the world. Harry wasn't dead but there was no telling when he'd wake up. If he'd wake up. If he'd live. Dudley almost didn't care anymore. He just wanted to forget. Closing his eyes he tried.
Ok so I gave you all a little peace here but not that much. Harry is alive. For now. You'll see how I save him real soon. Or not so soon. Writer's block again. I have to kill a whole bunch of people and, even as bloodthirsty as I am, I can't figure out how to do it.
Ahh well. Sit tight. I'll be back. Eventually.
Fitful