DISCLAIMER: HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of Warner Bros Entertainment Inc, and Property solely of J.K Rowling.
A/N: I do apologize for the very short, un-edited chapters, but as I have all of four more days in which to attempt to get a chapter or two out, it is all I can offer. Thanks to all those whom have read and reviewed so far. I hope to improve this story as best as possible in the near future. Thanks All. P.S. I recently realize many probably do not read writer bios, so i will make a note here. I am MPD and do realize that it makes many of my stories a bit bumping and un-organized, and the flow of plots tend to get distorted, and for this I am sorry. However, I do try and write to the best of my ability even with this and I make every effort to try and iron things out. Thanks to abs for reminding me to add this to my A/N.
Chapter 4- Conversation over tea.
Dudley Dursley of Number 4 Privet Drive sat alone in his room. Pale light seeped in through the closed bedroom curtains. It was late afternoon, the clock slowly ticking away on his night table warning of the approaching evening. The floor was stewn with rubbish. Broken video games, random playing cards, books he never read, wrappings from candy and chocolate alike, and clothes that were starting to let off a stale odour.
He noticed none of this as he sat quietly in his bedroom thinking. The house around him seemed un-naturally still for this time of day.
Usually his cousin's quiet and light footfalls could be heard as he moved from room to room working his way down a list of chores handed to him by his mother each morning. He would say not a word, just accept the list and walk away. His mother's high pitch voice would add a screeching ring throughout the house as she would follow him around, leaning over his shoulder, scolding every move Harry makes. Complaining about thing's been done to slowly or to inefficiently.
Not today. Today his cousin lay in his bedroom, alone and sick in the room next door to Dudley's own.
Dudley sat thinking about what he could do to help his cousin, something, Dudley thought, he should have done from the start when they were younger. Maybe then, if Dudley had made the effort to back his cousin, they could have been friends instead of enemys. Maybe then, his mother would have been a little more friendly to Harry, if even only to keep Dudley happy.
'The past is the past', he noted to himself, 'all I can do is try and help him now'.
His mother was bound to be home from her outting soon, and she would be piss to find Harry's chores unfinished, and Harry layed away in his bedroom, sick or not.
Dudley waited, and the waiting was killing him. He was never a patient person. To many years of having his way with out having to wait for what he wanted having left him intolerant to time slowly ticking by, but as it did he though over many different ways of aprroaching his mother. What would he say to get her to lay off Harry for awhile. Would she even listen? Thoughts like this and more bombarded his mine, and finally he decided on the direct approach.
An hour later he heard the front door unlatch and his mother's voice shriek up the stairs.
"BOY! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"
'Here goes nothing', Dudley thought as he slowly walked from his room. He listen for a second to see if his mothers shouts had woken Harry up, and when it remain silent from Harry's room, he walked through the hallway and down the few stairs to the front entrance.
He glanced at his mother. Her faced was pinched and anger rolled off her in waves. She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring up the staircase, obviously expecting Dudley to be Harry.
When she saw that it was Dudley and not Harry, her faced relaxed a little and she asked, "Where is that boy?" Anger still remained in her voice but she was obviously trying to restrain it from coming through.
"He's in his room mum." She looked to be drawing in breath so as to scream again, but Dudley cut her off.
"Mum!"
She let out the breath she had been inhaling and glanced back to Dudley.
"Yes, Dudders?"
"Please, just listen to me for a second and promise me you'll let me say my piece?"
"Of course, Dudders", She glanced up the stairs, and obviously coming to the conclusion that Harry was either not home, or ignoring her calls said, "but lets go in to the kitchen and talk over tea," as she picked up the packages from her feet and walk stiffly down the hall and into the kitchen.
Dudley followed close behind and waited until his mother placed her packages on the kitchen counter and then proceeded to make tea.
He stood in silence as he waited for the kettle and watched as his mum pored two cups of tea. She then proceeded to the table and placed both cups down and took a seat. She sat with her hands resting on the table, her fingers curled around her cup before turning to face Dudley.
"Whats the matter Dudders? Has that boy done something to you?"
Dudley drew in a deep breath in which to calm himself, and then crossed the floor and took a seat across from his mum. He unconsiously mimicked her and let the warmth from the cup calm him.
"No, Harry hasn't done anything." His mum gave him a funny look, probable at the use of Harry's given name, but kept her mouth close, obviously wanting for him to finish.
"Mum, Harry is really sick. Really sick. I know you and dad don't like him, but, I don't hate him, and he saved my life last year. I, no, we owe him for that at the very least. He could have left me to those Dementors, and after all the years of me and my friends tormenting him, I'd have deserved it."
His mum looked to be opening her mouth to say something, anger flashed in her eyes, but Dudley cut her off before she could so much as mutter a word.
"You said I could say my piece!" She closed her mouth, her fingers gripped the cup in her hands tighter, the anger stayed upon her face and she was noticable struggling.
"Anyways, Harry is really sick Mum, and I'm going to help him. It's the least I can do and if you and dad try to stop me..."
Dudley quickly thought of the worse punishment he could throw at her. Nothing was going to stop him from helping Harry.
His emotions wore worn clearly on his face as he looked to her, and as clearly and determined as he could he said, "I'll Leave!" and as an after thought added, "And take Harry with me!"
His mother's face went from anger to disbelief, before settling on resigned. Her fingers loosened and then she asked, "Why?"
"Because he's family,"
She looked shocked but then she quietly added, "Your father will be none to pleased."
"I know." Dudley looked up at her. 'Would she help convince his father?'
He waited as his mother down what was left of her tea. He followed her lead and did the same.
"I will speak to your father." She answered his unasked question. She looked suddenly drained, the anger gone, but something else linger. Dudley couldn't make out exactly what, but it didn't really matter. He had got what he wanted.
"Thank you." He said quietly, not having expected any support from her.
"How do you plan on helping him?" She asked.
"I don't know yet. When he wakes up, I'll asked him what he would usually do when he gets sick, I guess thats a starting place."
His mother face clearly showed that she did not like the idea, probably assuming it would involve magic.
"I don't want you to leave, so..." She was struggling. "You can help the boy, but I don't want to see or hear anything about, about, 'M' if thats what it takes to help him, keep it discreet and makes sure your father hears nothing of it, Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Mum." He said.
They sat there staring at each other before she got up, and taking a few calming breaths said, "that's settled then." She walk over to the counter in which she had left the packages she brought in. "Help me put the groceries away."
Dudley nodded, and walked over to help. He would leave it to his mother to speak to his father and he now only had to wait for Harry to wake up.
After the packages had been unpacked and put away, his mother had said she was going to lie down and had headed upstairs to her bedroom. Her stiff walk and heavy footfalls up the stairs made it clear she was displeased. She's probably going to go think, thought Dudley.
Dudley glanced around the now empty kitchen, and feeling useless and rather bored decided that his first step to help Harry would be to feed the boy. 'He's way to light'.
Dudley had noticed that Harry had barely touched a scrap of food since arriving home for the summer. Dudley had passed it off as Harry being slightly depressed about being back home, but it was now apparent that it was more than that.
Dudley vaguely remembered something from one of his health classes about feeding ill people something light, so as to not upset the stomach, so he meander through the cupboards looking for something to make.
He finally settled on chicken soup from a can, and a couple pieces of butter toast.
He went to work on making the first ever meal he would make for his cousin.