23 June 2020. 5:45 a.m.
Dudley had finished his toast and eyed his crumb-covered plate with some uncertainty.
On the one hand, his wife very much hated it when he put crumb-covered plates in the sink.
On the other hand, it was his birthday.
Dudley pursed his lips.
What to do, what to do?
How hard was it to rinse the plate himself and put it in the dishwasher? It was not hard. Not exactly. But that wasn't the point, was it?
Rinsing dishes and putting them away didn't seem very birthday-ish, was all.
Then again, arguing over dishes was hardly a fun way to start the morning.
How could one balance the tension between the pleasures due such an important day and the responsibilities of marriage?
Dudley regretted not signing up for "Introduction to Ethical Philosophy" when he'd had the chance. Surely they would have covered this sort of dilemma quite extensively.
Dudley decided to leave the plate on the table and go to the toilet. If anyone complained, he could just say he'd been considering having a second piece of toast and had gotten sidetracked by a call of nature.
Sometimes, procrastination was really the best choice.
Philosophically speaking.
23 June 2020. 6:05 a.m.
Dudley was on the toilet, taking rather more time than was strictly needed for nature's call. He was flicking through the early morning "Happy Birthday!" messages on his phone.
Eventually, he got a bit tired of that and wanted to stretch his legs.
He reached for the toilet paper, enjoying how the quilted 3-ply ripped cleanly away from the roll.
27 July 1997.
The car ride had taken a bit longer than Petunia Dursley had planned for, and by the time they pulled into a hidden lane, she was greatly regretting not having taken one last visit to the bathroom.
Vernon and Dudley both recognized the signs of her unease – the way she drummed her fingers on her leg, her flaring nostrils, the tight set of her shoulders. These were all signals that meant: get out of the way of the loo as soon as we get out of this car.
Unfortunately for Petunia, Dedalus was now directing Vernon to park under a shady elm, which was surrounded by several other shady elms, and several gorse bushes. There was no house in sight. They'd all got out of the car. "We'll Side-along Apparate from here," Dedalus said. "You can each take 2 bags, and Hestia and I can each take one of you to the house."
"Wait just a second," Vernon said. "You mean, we'll need to leave one of us here? And abandon the car?"
"That's right," said Hestia. "But Apparation and dropping off the first two will only take a few seconds, and then Dedalus will help them move in the luggage while I come back for the third."
"I'll go with the first group!" said Petunia.
"I'm not leaving the car behind," Vernon said firmly.
"Fine, then, come on Dudley," Petunia snapped.
"Hold on, Dudley," said Vernon, firmly. "The point is, I am not interested in this apparition-whatsit. I am not abandoning the car for who knows who to steal it."
"But I've explained the plan the whole way here!" Hestia cried. "The safe house is down a gorge, where the car simply won't be able to drive. We'll be using Concealing Charms and wards to protect the car during your stay, and we don't really have time to lose."
"Oh really?" Vernon puffed. "And how long is this stay going to be, eh? Who's going to pop back and drive the car around to make sure the fluids don't freeze up? Who's going to update the registration? Haven't thought of that, have you?"
Hestia and Dedalus looked at each other, bewildered.
Petunia glared fiercely at Vernon and gripped Hestia's arm. "Just let's go already."
Hestia gestured toward the boot. "But…"
"GO!" Petunia commanded. Hestia shrugged at Dedalus, raised her wand, twisted her body, and with a loud POP both women disappeared from sight.
"The boot, Dad?" Dudley said, moving to get the luggage. His father was staring, goggle-eyed, at the space once occupied by his wife. "Dad?"
Dudley opened the driver-side door himself and popped the boot open. He shook his head at the absurdity of only taking two bags, loading himself with four – two on each shoulder.
Hestia popped back. "I've dropped off Mrs. Dursley – said she needed the loo. Right, I think we can get all the rest between the four of us."
Vernon reluctantly picked up two of the bags, while Dedalus levitated the rest out of the boot, then bound them with ropes that shot out of his wand. Like Spidey-silk, Dudley thought to himself.
Dudley wondered why Dedalus hadn't just used magic to levitate all the bags, including the six he and his father were holding. But, he didn't want to ask any questions at the moment.
Hestia pointed her wand at the car, and it became invisible. At least, to Dudley that's what it seemed to do. Hestia seemed dissatisfied, however, and kept waving her wand and muttering spells at the empty space, until Dedalus and she agreed the job (whatever it was) had been completed.
Then she gripped Dudley's arm, while Dedalus lowered the stack of luggage to the ground and climbed onto it like a seat. As Dedalus reached for Vernon, Hestia twisted, and Dudley felt himself pulled inside out through his navel.
He fell, gasping, to the ground, luggage thudding underneath him. His shoulder was twisted awkwardly by the luggage strap, and he struggled to right himself, grunting in pain.
"Really!" Hestia sounded annoyed. "I told you two bags each for good reason!"
Another loud POP and Vernon, Dedalus, and the rest of their luggage arrived. Vernon retched loudly.
"Well, let's get inside," Hestia said. Dudley wriggled free of the luggage straps, then picked the bags up again (still with no magical assistance, he noted), and hauled them up the front stairs of a small, square house. The house appeared to be quite dilapidated on the outside, and as Dudley entered it, he found it had very little furniture and walls that were bare of pictures or mirrors.
Dudley ran his hand over the wallpaper, which was covered in a bold geometric print in shades of brown.
"Looks like this place has been empty since the '70s" his father grumbled behind him. "What a dump!"
Dudley dropped the luggage just inside the front door. His weights inside his bag hit the floor with a loud bang.
Dudley wandered through the house. Avocado-colored sink and fridge (very small). Curtains that were faded now but had once had a garish fruit-pattern. He looked for the bedrooms and found three, all quite close together on the second floor. It was rather like a smaller version of Number 4, Privet Drive. But, even without much furniture, it felt cramped.
Dudley was concerned.
So far, he'd seen no sign of a television.
He saw a closed door. He tried the handle. It was locked.
"Who's that?" his mother's voice sounded.
"That you, Mum?" Dudley called through the door. "We're all here all right."
"Dudders?" Petunia sounded distraught.
"Yeah, Mum?"
"There's no… toilet paper in here."
"I'll go find some," Dudley said.
He wandered through the house with no particular urgency, looking for a television. Or computer.
He realized that not only wasn't he finding these electric appliances, he wasn't seeing electric outlets. He glanced out one of the windows (which was clean, if not Mum-level clean). No wires in sight.
Dudley thought of his gaming system regretfully. It wouldn't be much good here.
He hoped they wouldn't be staying long.
Downstairs again, Dudley looked for a second bathroom. He did not find one.
He started opening cupboard and closet doors, hoping to find toilet paper.
"Looking for something?" Dedalus asked, twirling his tophat.
"Where's the toilet paper?" Dudley asked.
"What's toilet paper?"
Dudley looked past Dedalus to Hestia, who was arguing with Dad about the car again.
"Toilet paper?"
She looked back at him quizzically, then struck her head with the palm of her hand. "Oi! I knew we were forgetting something!"
"What's toilet paper?" Dedalus asked again.
"Oh, come on, Dedalus! We had it at Hogwarts, you must have seen it."
Dedalus dropped his top hat, which then fell three inches before swirling through the air to a hook on the wall.
"The rolls of white stuff in the bathrooms? Next to the toilets?" Hestia sounded exasperated.
Meanwhile, Vernon was sputtering.
"Oh… that stuff," Dedalus said. "I always wondered what that stuff was called."
"Right," said Hestia. "That papery stuff next to the toilets is called toilet paper. Mystery solved."
"So, do you have some?" Dudley asked. "Because Mum's in the bathroom right now, and she sent me to get some."
"Erm, no. Not at the moment," said Hestia. "We can get some, later. Once we've heard from the others how Harry's escape goes."
"But what's the toilet paper for?" asked Dedalus.
Hestia whispered in his ear.
"OH!" he said. "You just need Aguamenti, and then a Drying Charm." He demonstrated, holding his wand over his rear. "Just send a nice cleaning spray, and then dry off."
"They're Muggles, Dedalus," Hestia groaned. "They can hardly use Aguamenti."
"Happy to help!" Dedalus said cheerily, heading toward the stairs. He paused. "Although, Mrs. Dursley might be more comfortable if you were to do it, Hestia."
Hestia looked doubtful. And a little disgusted.
Vernon finally exploded. "You can keep away from my wife, the both of you! Dragging us out here to do who knows what with us? Just can't wait to see our bums, is that it? Well, you'll have to get your jollies some other way!"
"I'm terribly sorry about this," Hestia said, ignoring his outburst. "It just slipped our minds – we tend not to bother with toilet paper after we're able to cast the cleaning charms. Although some of the muggle-born families keep it around, and families with children. We'll go out and get some as soon as we hear that it's safe."
"Wait!" Dedalus said. "What are we thinking? I'll just transfigure us some." He opened the window, and conjured a breeze that brought in a small pile of last year's leaves. Another wave of his wand, and the leaves were transformed into a small stack of rectangular toilet paper.
He handed the stack, beaming, to Dudley.
"Here you go!" Dedalus said.
Dudley felt the stack of scratchy paper. Better for Mum to not know about all this. Just yet, anyway.
He trudged up the stairs to make the delivery.
23 June 2020. 6:45 a.m.
Dudley patted the roll of quilted 3-ply fondly.
The world news had made much of the upheaval in toilet paper supply that spring. Yet, the Dursley household had carried on unperturbed.
Dudley Dursley, like his parents before him, had a bit of a reputation in his neighborhood for not being quite … normal.
One of his many oddities was an absurd fondness for toilet paper and other non-perishable goods. He had even devoted a little shelf in his garage just for paper towels, toilet paper, and other toiletries.
"Like a weird old lady hoarder," Piers had said, shaking his head, on a visit in 2018.
But in 2020, who was the one who had been able to get Piers that emergency 4-pack of roll, eh?
Dudley finished up and washed his hands, nodding his head with pride.
He knew how to take care of things.
He knew what was important.