Chapter 21. And You, Dudley?

The summer of 1995 turned out to be dry and hot. Most of that summer, Harry was bored. He constantly searched the news for any updates. And it was not in vain: the Muggle community was almost entirely abuzz with news of the crashed Airbus. The investigation lasted for a whole month, gaining momentum every day. Soon, the television aired a recording of the crew's conversation from the plane's black boxes. It was heavily edited, including only the brightest moment before the crash, when the pilots noticed a bright red flash shooting up from the ground into the sky. According to the news anchor's report, even the most experienced specialists' blood ran cold from the subsequent screams, and it was impossible to make out anything from them. No one understood the reason for such sudden and widespread changes in their behavior, and according to forensic reports, the pilots were perfectly healthy before the crash. The fact that not only the pilots were screaming added an incredible horror to the case. This fact fueled the imagination of numerous conspiracy theorists, prompting them to come up with new conspiracy theories based on the assumption that the June plane crash was not accidental.

Knowing all this, Harry could only guess what terrible scandal awaited the Minister of Magic. He didn't subscribe to the Daily Prophet, and his friends didn't pass along any news in their letters, as instructed by Dumbledore. The worst part was not receiving letters from Jeanne. If Cedric sent a few lines in his weekly letters, Jeanne had disappeared completely. Even Buckler and his friends' owls returned with their letters when they tried to find her. No one knew where Jeanne d'Arc Alter was.

The joy in Harry's life came from the fact that just a month ago, shoulder to shoulder with his loyal friends, he faced Voldemort himself and his Death Eaters, and Jeanne dealt Dark Lord a devastating blow with a single strike of her sword. They came out of the most incredible predicament alive and well. Against the backdrop of such a happy memory, all the hardships faded and seemed insignificant. The world appeared in bright colors, and even the dreaded graveyard didn't haunt his nightmares. No matter what it cost, they would prevail. Harry cherished this wonderful thought deep in his heart. Thinking about it, he felt as if he were soaring above the world, firmly convincing himself of his readiness to go into the most terrifying battle, even to certain death, if necessary, to stand against Voldemort once again. No matter how many followers Voldemort gathered, no matter how many terrifying creatures he summoned for assistance, nothing would destroy Harry's confidence in his imminent and inevitable defeat.

Even Dudley's exceptional nastiness, which in recent months had escalated into outright thuggery, didn't scare Harry much. It didn't scare him partly because Dudley hardly bothered him personally. Instead, he and his gang of hooligan friends would throw stones at passing cars, children, and adults, calling it fun. Dudley shamelessly lied to his parents, telling stories about having dinner at some friend's place, while he bullied little kids and elderly people, in short, anyone who couldn't defend themselves against a bunch of aggressive bullies.

That evening, Harry heard a very familiar sound in the backyard. Someone Apparated right in the middle of Privet Drive, right in front of him. Without attracting the attention of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, Harry carefully got off the flower bed where he was lying, listening to the news, and headed towards the nearby park. There was no point in staying home, he thought, if something interesting was happening nearby. He intended to find out who and why came to Privet Drive this evening, already anticipating some unexpected revelation.

In the park, he sat on the vacant swings and waited, not knowing what for. Various thoughts swarmed in his head. What is Voldemort doing now? Surely, he is extremely angry after his recent defeat, and therefore, any evil can be expected from him. He won't be surprised, even if the Dark Lord personally shows up on Privet Drive or right here, in this empty park. But, most likely - and this is just like him - Voldemort is currently devising plans known only to him, on how to get rid of the bothersome Harry and Dumbledore. Perhaps, he is planning to take over the Ministry of Magic, where he has enough supporters to secretly spread his own influence on the top of magical Britain. Harry could only hope that there is currently a fierce struggle taking place between Dumbledore's supporters and Voldemort's at the Ministry, in which the latter will inevitably lose.

Voices from the depth of his thoughts brought him back to reality. Looking up, Harry saw Dudley and his gang walking through the park, looking very pleased about something. A year of strict dieting and intense training turned Dudley into a huge thug, and recently he won his first award as a champion in his age group in boxing. All the kids trembled before him. Anticipating an impending attack, Harry only noticed how they, engrossed in their own conversation, walked past him without even noticing him.

Knowing that he definitely had to go home no later than Dudley and preferably beat his cousin even for a second, Harry yawned and followed them. He definitely did not want to receive a slap from Uncle Vernon for being late.

When Dudley parted ways with his friends, Harry subtly caught up with him and called him by the nickname his friends gave him.

"Hey, Big D!"

Dudley turned around.

"Oh, it's you."

"When did you become Big D?"

"Shut up," Dudley snapped.

"Oh, come on. How's life?"

Dudley stopped and looked at Harry as if he were a never-before-seen miracle. They never spoke like this before.

"You know, not bad," he replied. "And you?"

"Living, Dudley, living," Harry confidently replied.

"Why are you suddenly talking to me?" Dudley scratched his head, trying hard to understand if this conversation was some kind of prank.

"You're my cousin, after all," Harry replied. "We should have a normal conversation someday, at least once in our lives."

Dudley was deep in thought. Harry could swear he could see his thoughts swirling in his head.

"So... do you have something going on?"

For a second, Harry was transported back to the night of June 24th and 25th.

"Yeah, you know," unexpectedly, Harry stumbled over his words. "Something happened. Something that would give you nightmares."

Dudley looked around, wanting to make sure that no one was following them and preparing to ambush them.

"What could possibly happen to you?"

"Well," Harry replied. "I've been thinking for a long time whether or not I should tell you about it."

"I've heard what you mumble about at night. Don't kill Cedric, don't kill Cedric! Who is this Cedric, your boyfriend?"

Harry tried not to pay attention to the snide remarks in his cousin's words.

"It's a long story, Dudley. Cedric and I have been through a lot together, you could say. We went to school together, and now he has finished his education. He's a really good friend."

- So, what is all of this for?

Dudley was starting to resemble the mountain troll that Harry encountered at Hogwarts a few years ago.

- The man who killed my parents returned a month ago, Dudley.

- Well, he returned, and? What does that matter to me?

- You're my only cousin that I have.

Harry practically forced the words out of himself. Dudley looked at him, and then, to Harry's surprise, smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

- Turns out, you're not such a moron after all, he muttered.

At that moment, he gasped as if he had been plunged into icy water.

Something happened with the night itself. The dark blue, star-studded sky suddenly turned completely black. There was no fire in it - no stars, no moon, no dimly lit streetlights at both ends of the alley. There was no sound of distant cars or rustling trees. Instead of a gentle summer evening, it was bone-chillingly cold. They were surrounded by pitch-black darkness, impenetrable and silent, as if someone's giant hand had covered the entire alley with a dense icy fabric. For a fraction of a second, Harry had the illusion that he had involuntarily used his wand, though he resisted that temptation with all his might. But then he snapped out of it - he couldn't possibly have put out the stars. He turned his head in all directions, trying to see something, but the darkness clung to his eyes like a black weightless veil. Dudley's voice trembled with fear:

- Wh-what's happening?

- I don't know. It doesn't bode well. Stay still and don't move!

- I can't see anything! I'm b-blind! I...

- Shut up, will you?

Harry stood frozen, turning his blinded eyes left and right. The cold was so intense that his whole body trembled. His hands turned to gooseflesh, his hair stood on end at the back of his neck. He stared into the darkness, lifting his eyelids as much as possible - but in vain. Total darkness. It was impossible... They couldn't be here, in Little Whinging... He strained his hearing. First, he should hear them, and only then see them...

- W-where are you? What are you d-doing?...

- Will you shut up or not? - Harry hissed. - I'm trying to...

He faltered when he heard exactly what he feared. Long, hoarse, bubbling inhales and exhales. There was something else in the alley besides him and Dudley. Trembling from the cold, Harry was overrun by horror.

- What is this? - Dudley finally found his voice.

At that moment, Harry felt the cold creeping towards them from different directions. It could only mean one thing: there were at least two of them.

- We'll see in a moment, - he searched in his pocket until he found what he was looking for. - Lumos!

And, not believing his eyes, he saw a lifesaving flash just a few inches from his right hand. The tip of his wand lit up. Harry grabbed it, jumped to his feet, and looked around. At first, he and Dudley saw each other's faces, but as soon as Harry looked around, everything inside him turned upside down. Floating above the ground, a tall figure in a cloak that reached its feet smoothly glided towards him, with a hood pulled over its face. As it approached, it sucked in the night air.

- What is that creature? - gasped Dudley.

He had instinctively retreated, but fear paralyzed his movements, and Dudley remained

There was no time for talk. Taking a couple of unsteady steps back, Harry raised his wand:

- EXPECTO PATRONUM!

A huge silver stag grew out of the tip of the magic wand. Its antlers struck the dementor in the spot where a human's heart would be, and sent it flying back, weightless like the darkness itself. The stag continued to charge. The defeated dementor floated away under its pressure, resembling a bat in flight.

"Come here now!" Harry shouted to the stag and ran down the alley, turning back to look while holding his glowing wand high. "Dudley! Dudley! Follow me!"

And Dudley dashed after him.

The silver antlers struck the second dementor. The dementor, thrown into the air, like its companion, started to float away and soon disappeared into the darkness. The stag, reaching the end of the alley, dissolved into a silvery mist.

The moon, stars, and street lamps came back to life. A warm breeze swept through the alley. The trees rustled in the gardens, and the familiar sound of cars passing on Magnolia Road could be heard. Harry stood rooted to the spot, his senses on high alert. It was difficult to immediately return to normal life. Suddenly, he felt his shirt sticking to his body - he was covered in sweat.

He still couldn't believe what had happened. Dementors - here, in Little Whinging!

Dudley was trembling with fear, but he was coherent and conscious. Harry squatted down to catch his breath, and suddenly heard loud thudding footsteps behind him.

Instinctively raising his wand again, he turned sharply towards the new arrival. Panting, Mrs. Figg, the eccentric old neighbor, hurried towards him. Gray strands of hair escaped from under her hairnet, a rope handle grocery bag swung in her hand, and she was barely managing to keep cloth slippers on her feet. Harry tried to hide his wand from her, but...

"Don't put it away, you foolish boy!" she shouted. "There might be more lurking around here! I am ready to tear apart that good-for-nothing Nundu Fletcher!"