23 June 2020
10:03 a.m.
"Thank you again, everyone, for spending part of your morning with me," the reporter said. "You're all a vital part of our community, and we wish you all the best. Stay safe, everyone!"
Meanwhile, her assistant had been typing private messages to Dudley asking about his pregnant and elderly clients. "Sounds like a nice human interest piece, there! Alternate exercises, etc. Mind giving me their contact information?"
Dudley tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible as he typed back, "Lost touch, I'm afraid."
"Oh, too bad. Give me their names, then? Might be able to find them on social media."
Not bloody likely. "Can't remember their last names, sorry…" he threw in a shrugging emoji and a sad face. What could he say? They died in a secret war in the 90's. Probably so did some of your neighbors.
The end of the conference call was a relief.
He could finally do what he actually preferred in the mornings – training.
4 September 1997
Dudley flexed against the ropes that wrapped around his body and legs. The ropes were brown, simple three-strand twisted cord in a fiber that fuzzed in prickles that itched the skin exposed by his sleeveless shirt. Dudley preferred examining the ropes to looking at the couple fighting over his prone figure.
"I ASKED him to teach me boxing! What are you thinking, flying off the handle like that?"
"Just answer the question, Dursley. What are you doing with my pregnant wife?"
"Stay OUT OF IT, Lupin! Since when do YOU care, anyway?"
Was the rope hemp, or sisal? Or something else? Had the wizard stolen the ropes from a rope warehouse, or could he make them out of thin air?
Dudley looked across the mat, between Lupin's stockinged feet, to the half-open door. Could he wriggle, unnoticed, under the ropes and across the gym? Probably not, he thought.
"I've always cared," Lupin's voice was calm, courteous. "I seem to be the only person, in fact, concerned for the child's well-being."
"That is so – URGGH!" Tonks actually growled. "Your paranoia is NOT the same thing as concern. And don't put on that – that I'm a smart, calm Professor voice. Because you're NOT! I've been the reasonable one SINCE WE GOT MARRIED!"
Tonks, whose hair had alternated several colors during this exchange, did not strike Dudley as "reasonable." Then again, perhaps in Harry's world, she was a dry, boring accountant-type. She struggled to pull her wand out with her wrapped hand. She dropped it on the mat.
"I thought," Lupin said in his smart, calm Professor voice, "that we might be under attack again. My mistake." He aimed his wand at Dudley, who tensed. The ropes disappeared.
Dudley wasn't sure if it was a good idea to get up or not.
"It didn't seem like you thought you were under attack from Death Eaters," Tonks said. "Calling him Dursley and everything. Seemed to me like you knew perfectly well it was just Harry's cousin."
At this, Lupin remembered Dudley's existence. "Alright, Dudley?"
Not trusting his voice, Dudley just gave a couple of nods, and got to his feet. He looked down at his boxing gloves. So… was anyone going to spar with him, then?
It appeared not.
Dudley, who didn't like feeling so out of place in his own gym, decided to stroll casually toward the door. Nobody stopped him. Once out in the corridor, he trotted down to the sitting room, where he'd heard his parents' voices. He took his gloves off on the way and tossed them up and down as he walked.
The older Dursleys weren't in the sitting room, but Dudley paused, interested in the changes made to the room. The magical pictures of fat cocker spaniels leaping and failing to catch a ball, gnawing on a stick, rolling over for a tummy rub, had all been removed. In their place was a large corkboard covered in cards, with one name per card, connected by glowing lines to a timetable in the center of the board. At the top of the board was "VOLDEMORT." The line from that name indicated he'd been seen in Germany recently.
On the timetable, Dudley found the spot for the battle:
2 September, 9:15 a.m – ~9:45 a.m. H.Q.
Glowing lines ran across the board from several names, including Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle, and other names Dudley recognized from conversations. Order members. Dudley snickered at the names Nymphadora Tonks Lupin and Remus Lupin. How had those two gotten together, he wondered. Probably some sort of arranged marriage. He imagined Tonks' father, sternly commanding her to marry his ancient geezer of a friend. No wonder she was so temperamental. Or, maybe it was a shotgun wedding. He'd have to find out when their wedding had been.
People thought Dudley was stupid. He just found it useful to keep most of his observations to himself.
More cards, ones for Death Eaters – marked "D.E." in the upper corner, and cards with phrases like "Snatcher – scar on chin," "Snatcher – balding, pigeon-toed." Thorfinn Rowle, Ernest Jugson, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange. Converging at H.Q. - Harry's house.
Dudley searched the board and found Harry's name. Only one line traced from Harry's card:
2 September, 8:55 a.m – Ministry of Magic – likely arrived earlier?
This timepoint also had lines tracing from Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley and Corban Yaxley. Yaxley's line, unlike those of Harry and his friends, ran all over the board, to the H.Q., then to Tonks Family Flat, then The Burrow, then Miller's Pond, then back to Ministry of Magic again. It looked like Yaxley had given up chasing them for the day, but the timeline continued to show the convergence of Order members, other Death Eaters, and people called Snatchers throughout the 2nd and 3rd of September.
Hestia had been at Enniscaven for several hours on September 2nd. Then, when Dedalus had joined her, they'd been joined by two unnamed Snatchers within minutes. Likewise, Tonks and Lupin had each had periods of quiet, but when they'd met up with other Order members, Snatchers or Death Eaters had appeared in no less than thirty minutes.
Dudley had watched plenty of detective shows and thrillers. Trackers? Triangulation?
The four of them had been here, in Meadowsweet Cottage, for nearly twelve hours. When would the Death Eaters and Snatchers show up for them?
They all seemed to think that Dedalus had done something special that gave them all extra protection. Fidelius Charm. Secret Keeper. Dudley shook his head; he had come to like Dedalus, but he found it hard to believe him capable of doing anything important or impressive. Dedalus was like if … someone had superhero powers and just used them to cook and decorate. Cyclops, using his laser eyes to etch his name on his bedroom door. Professor X, using his psychic powers to steal a baker's recipe for lemon tart. Spiderman, climbing the walls just to hang a basket of flowers.
Dudley thought to himself that if he was fighting in a superhero war, and had every power under the sun, he wouldn't waste time faffing about making toast or setting up wards. He'd blast all his enemies, and if they turned into ghosts, he'd just laugh in their faces.
Not only did Dudley not trust Dedalus' magic to protect them, but there seemed to be far more Death Eater and Snatcher cards than Order members. Dudley – tired from his morning of hard work – felt no inclination to count them up, but one side of the board was crammed full, and the other side spread thin.
It might be a good idea, Dudley thought, to find an alternate place to hide. Plenty of old shelving in the attic – could be made into a little shed somewhere in the forest. Frankie could help break up the shelving, and then maybe he could haul it all out of the house… It would be easiest to throw it out the attic window. That way no one would question what they were doing. Dad could put it together. Give him something to do.
His stomach growled.
First, he had to see about getting more food.
Dedalus was still asleep, and Vernon was stomping around in the shower. Petunia was muttering to herself behind a closed bedroom door. Hestia was up in the attic tending to the owls.
"Good morning, Dudley," she said. Her arm was neatly bandaged now. The hole in the ceiling was repaired so that there was no sign there had ever been a mess of broken boards and dangling shingles. "Right mess you've made up here, but the owls don't seem to mind."
"G'morning," he said. "Er." He swallowed. His mouth felt dry and his heart pounded. What did one say to a war hero? "Er."
"Well?"
"Er. Can you get food from…" his voice trailed off.
"In a bit. How much is left?"
The three Dursleys had gone through the remaining chicken, and he'd eaten the last of the biscuits. "Er. None."
The witch dropped her bowl in consternation. "What? No! We can't have run out already." She jumped down from the attic hatch to the floor below and raced to the kitchen.
Pleased to see someone caring about the right things for once, Dudley followed. Indeed, every jar and dish was empty.
"Even the flour?!" Hestia asked, examining the cupboard. "How could you have eaten up all the flour? And the sugar, I see."
"Mum made scones."
Hestia clicked her teeth. She ran a hand through her black hair. "Well, we are in a pickle, and no mistake. We said back when we got here not to eat up the last of anything! Now what are we going to eat?"
Dudley couldn't imagine how having one biscuit left would help with anything.
"We can multiply food that's already there or change the food to something else – though there are limits – but we can't get something from nothing at all!"
She paused and closed her eyes. "I know – I know we oughtn't to have left you alone here. You were running out of food, and, with no way to know when we could make it back – I know you must have done your best." She sighed. "But who knows? If we hadn't have both gone, we might be looking at more of us dead, and more Death Eater victories, so …" Her voice trailed off.
Dudley waited until he thought enough time had passed for a solemn moment. "Can we go out to the shops, then?"
"Out of the question! Haven't you been paying attention at all? We none of us are going anywhere, until we can figure out why the Death Eaters were able to track us so well."
"Probably Tracking Devices stuck under your skin," Dudley offered. "And Triangulation."
"Triangulation?"
"Yeah… like, if you make a triangle, then… you can catch people. Police do it all the time." Dudley hoped Hestia would be satisfied with that explanation, because it was the best he was going to be able to provide.
"Making a triangle? I don't…"
Desperate to change the subject away from geometry, Dudley blurted, "Do berries count?"
Hestia just raised her eyebrows.
"There's brambles in the woods, out there. Most of the berries are rubbish, but maybe…"
"That'd work. Well, let's hope there are some in decent condition. I don't like the thought of you poking around in those woods by yourself at the moment, though. See if Remus or Dedalus can go with you. If not, wait for me, and I'll go. Just have to finish up here first."
"Er." Dudley'd had another thought.
"Yes?"
"That, er. Owl. With the hurt wing."
"The one you saved? Seems to be doing well. I'm keeping him downstairs, if you want to check on him. Don't wake him if he's sleeping." She filled another bowl. "Have you given him a name?"
"Er. No. Should I?"
She shrugged. "I don't think the owls care about names, to be honest, but that's never stopped anyone."
Dudley had never been creative when coming up with names. Beaky the parrot. Shelly the turtle. Harry hadn't stopped smirking about those for weeks. He didn't want to look stupid in front of … everyone. Owly. Stubby. Beaky the owl. "I - I'll try to think of something."
"Like I said, I don't think the owls mind either way."
Dudley leaned against the wall of the second-floor corridor, thinking. Dedalus was still asleep. There was no way Dudley was going to ask Remus Lupin for help. His stomach growled again. Should he wait for Hestia?
The shower had stopped, and he heard his parents talking in their bedroom.
He could check in with them. Find out what they'd been arguing about. Had to have been with Lupin. Maybe he'd tied them up, too. Or, it could have been with Hestia. But she'd have likely said something about the fight to Dudley just now.
His parents had always been good for gifts and outings, fun times around the television, applause and praise after his boxing matches. Dudley had long had his own secret life without them. Even before leaving for boarding school, he'd had the run of the neighborhood, and whatever stories his parents chose to believe were usually quite far from the truth. He knew he was spoiled, having been told that often enough by other adults (and Harry), but he was independent. Got himself in and out of trouble plenty of times.
Dudley had never been one for following rules or for doing what adults wanted. He'd been happier getting the adults to see things his way, to want what he wanted. It didn't work on everyone – the Head of Smeltings didn't like him at all – but they were the exceptions that proved the rule.
Did he really want to spend the rest of the year eating whatever Hestia and Dedalus could make out of a few overripe blackberries?
There had to be a better way.
He went to his bedroom and pulled a few pound notes from the back of his sock drawer. He grabbed his CD player, too.
Tonks was rummaging through the cupboards. "Is there no food at all?" she asked when Dudley showed up.
"We're out," he said. "There were some brambles in the forest, so I'm going out to look for some berries. Hestia said she could turn them into proper food."
She made a face. "They'll be done in, after all the rain we've got." She wiped her hands on her jeans. "I was going out anyway, to check on my parents, get some potions supplies. I can stop by the shops and get a few things." She Shapeshifted into a grey-haired woman with a chin-length bob. "I know there's people watching the place, but I'll just look like the next-door neighbor. She stops by often enough. Always getting the wrong post. I'll be able to see if it's safe."
He offered her the money.
"Thanks. That's – it's a good idea to go to a Muggle shop." She paused. "Anything you want?"
"Do you know what batteries are?"
At this, she grinned. "Yeah. My dad's a Muggleborn, and my grandparents – his parents – minded me almost every day when I was a kid and my parents were at work. Practically grew up in their house."
One of the first rules Dudley had learned at Smeltings – barter with something that's hard to get. He set the CD player on the counter in front of her, as well as one of his dead batteries. "Could you get me new batteries? This size? Please? You can borrow the CD player, if you want."
She tapped it. "Better not. Can't afford to dull my hearing out there. I'll have a listen when I get back, though." She waved her wand, and a few seconds later, her boots and jacket almost hit Dudley in the shoulder. Once Tonks finished getting ready, she said, "If you see Hestia, tell her I want to keep working on the board with her once I'm back."
She Disapparated directly from the kitchen with a loud BANG. Dudley heard soft footsteps racing down the corridor. Seemed like a great time to step outside. Nothing like some fresh air. He slipped out the kitchen door.
23 June 2020
10:20 a.m.
"What was going on in there?" Nicole asked. "Sounded like it was getting out of hand?"
Dudley laughed it off. "Reporters. What can I say? Too many video conferences, people get testy."
Nicole shook her head. "Well, I've got three short ones in a row coming up. Wish me luck. If more clients postpone or cancel …"
"Good luck. I mean, break a leg."
"That's for theater."
"Weddings are like theater. Tell 'em the show must go on."
"If only." She handed him a list. "We're low on a few things. Mind putting in the order while I'm in my meetings?"
Dudley didn't mind. A few flicks on his phone, a filled cart, a sizable tip (bribe), and the order was soon selected by a shopper who probably was not going to be attacked just for rounding up some groceries. Infected, maybe. Not attacked.
4 September 1997
Dudley was halfway across the meadow when Remus caught up to him.
"Where's Tonks?" he asked.
He was in good shape, Dudley thought. Hadn't even got out of breath, with the sprinting. He looked decrepit, but maybe it could be fun to spar with him.
"She went to see her mum. Said she needed potions ingredients."
Remus' face twisted with emotion. His hands worked at his sides, claw-like. Dudley guessed he was jealous of his wife. Definitely a shotgun or arranged marriage, or both. Too bad, old man, thought Dudley. Visiting her mum, yeah, right. More like better-looking boyfriend that her parents wouldn't let her marry because of … the estate or something. Entailment. Who IS the father, anyway?
Tonks was cute when she wasn't puking or shapeshifting. Dudley wasn't surprised Remus was jealous.
Remembering Hestia's warning, Dudley asked, "Want to find berries with me?"
Remus stopped, perplexed.
"Hestia said to ask you. She needs them for something." No need to mention who had eaten the last biscuit.
"Get back to the house, Dudley." Remus stretched his neck. "Tonks might be in trouble. I should go check."
"Er…" It wasn't really Dudley's business, but he didn't think Tonks wanted company. "She was in disguise. As the old lady neighbor."
"Smart. The place could be being watched." He checked his watch. "But if there's fighting…"
"Can't she send one of those things? Those silver things?"
"Patronus? Yes, but… in the midst of a fight…" His eyes darted around the meadow, scanning the forest, the glimpse of river through the bare branches. "Ten minutes, then I'll go after her. Apparate directly in. Andromeda won't mind."
Shopping would take longer than ten minutes.
"Er. Er." Dudley gulped. Remus looked absolutely mental at this point. "Er."
Remus stopped flexing his fingers and pasted a tense smile on his face. It just made him look more mental. "What is it, Dudley?"
"Er. She's going shopping, too." Dudley realized that made it sound like she wanted to get a new album or jacket. "Food." Don't mention the batteries.
"We need a less ostentatious way of communicating," Remus muttered. "AND one that doesn't require a clear head."
Dudley gave a short laugh as fake and horrible as Remus' smile. "Yeah, like a phone?"
"Get back to the house, Dudley. If everything's fine, I'll be back directly." With a soft POP, Remus vanished.
