Summary: The Dursleys have left Privet Drive and are in hiding with Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle. Hestia and Mr. Dursley are constantly fighting, Petunia is avoiding the wizards at all costs, and Dedalus is trying to make them all the best of friends. Meanwhile, Dudley discovers he has an interest in Harry's world, but his parents are less than pleased when they find out.
Categories: Humor Fics Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 17
Completed: No
Word count: 46735
Read: 128811
Published: 09/27/07
Updated: 06/18/11
1. Septum Aperio by Ghoul In Pajamas
2. Rice Krispies and Comic Strips by Ghoul In Pajamas
3. été à Paris by Ghoul In Pajamas
4. The Silver Lynx by Ghoul In Pajamas
5. Death Eaters, Weasels, and Rumours, Oh my! by Ghoul In Pajamas
6. What Dudley Doesn't Know About His Mum by Ghoul In Pajamas
7. Tabooed by Ghoul In Pajamas
8. A Weasley Welcome by Ghoul In Pajamas
9. The Wall of Questions by Ghoul In Pajamas
10. Answers by Ghoul In Pajamas
11. The Plan by Ghoul In Pajamas
12. The Rescue from St. Mungo's by Ghoul In Pajamas
13. Mrs. Longbottom's Experiment by Ghoul In Pajamas
14. Why Duh Ya Harve A Rand, Doodley? by Ghoul In Pajamas
15. Magic Lessons by Ghoul In Pajamas
16. A Christmas Visit by Ghoul In Pajamas
17. Vernon's Secret by Ghoul In Pajamas
Septum Aperio by Ghoul In Pajamas
Many thanks to my beta, Amber0_o!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Dudley wasn’t exactly sure what had made him say those things to Harry. In the two years since the dementor attack, Dudley’s feelings toward Harry had changed. To what, he didn’t know, but he hadn’t been quite ready to share this with his whole family.
He sighed and looked out of the window, watching the suburban scene pass him by. But I had to tell him tonight, thought Dudley, or I might never have had the chance. It hadn’t gone the way Dudley would have liked. Even he realized that telling someone he’s not a waste of space isn’t a proper ‘thank you’. He hadn’t apologized for fourteen years of torture, either. He just hoped Harry understood.
Dudley’s ponderings were interrupted by his father’s raised voice, and he jerked his head up to see what it could be about. He seemed ready to kick Hestia Jones out of the car. “TELL ME WHERE YOU’RE TAKING US!” Vernon roared.
“For the thousandth time, I can’t tell you,” Hestia replied, exasperated, but in no way intimidated by the large, blonde man on her right. “You’ll find out when we get there.”
“If you don’t tell me where we’re going, I’ll””
“You’ll what?” Hestia challenged. Vernon fell into a huffy quiet, and continued driving into the night. A smirk planted itself on Dudley’s face; he’d never seen someone who could handle his father’s temper quite like that.
Five minutes later, on a quiet, deserted street, Hestia said, “Stop the car.” Vernon pulled to the side of the road and the Dursley family, Dedalus Diggle, and Hestia Jones got out of the car. Dedalus went to help Dudley unload the trunks, the latter looking very apprehensively at the older wizard. When he pulled out his wand, Dudley screeched in an uncharacteristically high pitch, “Please! Don’t kill mee-eee!”
Dedalus chuckled, pointed his wand at the trunks, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" Dudley peered between his chubby fingers, which he had flung protectively in front of his face, in time to see three trunks lift out of the car and glide forward under the direction of Dedalus’ wand.
“We will leave at the same time Harry should be leaving Privet Drive,” Dedalus announced, as the trunks stopped in mid-air next to where he and Hestia were standing. He pulled out a large pocket watch, whispered something to it, and hastily shoved it back into his robes. “Just a couple more minutes.”
The Dursleys looked warily at the witch and wizard, until Dudley spoke up. “How exactly are we getting to wherever it is we’re going?”
“We’ll be Apparating, of course,” said Dedalus.
“We’ll be what?” Vernon snapped.
“Apparating,” Dedalus repeated, as if this cleared up all questions.
Vernon’s round face began to swell and his fists clenched at his side.
“Apparition is just one way of traveling in the Wizarding World,” Hestia quickly explained, noticing Vernon’s murderous look. “We’ll be doing Side-Along Apparition, so you three just need to hold onto one of our hands.”
Dudley looked from his mother to his father, much like a little boy who won’t admit he’s afraid of a ride at the carnival, hoping one of them would protest. But before either had a chance, Dedalus’ pocket watch screeched "Time to go!”
“Okay then, who’s coming with me?” Hestia asked distractedly.
Without hesitation, Petunia grabbed Dudley’s massive arm and rushed over to Hestia, deciding she was more competent than their other escort, who kept adjusting his top hat so that it wouldn’t fall over his eyes. Vernon must have felt the same way, because he was cursing under his breath as he approached Dedalus Diggle.
“Excellent! Excellent!” Dedalus said cheerfully, “Then you’ll be coming with me!” Vernon grunted in response.
“Have you got your trunks?” Hestia surveyed the Dursleys. “Good. Just hold tight; Apparition may feel a bit strange the first time, but it’s not dangerous.”
Dudley took a firm grip of Hestia’s hand and, a moment later, felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs. Something was closing in on him from all sides and, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. He gasped for breath, inviting the warm summer air into his lungs.
He looked around to see Hestia and Dedalus looking like the sensation of not being able to breathe hadn’t bothered them a bit. His mother stood a few feet away, wide-eyed and very pale, seemingly staring at something in the distance, though she was facing a brick wall. His father was panting on the ground, and was trying in vain to push himself up, refusing any help from Dedalus.
Once Vernon had clumsily gotten to his feet, he began yelling incoherently at Hestia and Dedalus, who were very confused.
“NOT DANGEROUS…! FEELS STRANGE…! NEVER…! HOLD TIGHT!” Vernon’s face was now so purple and swollen it looked like it would burst at any moment. In response, Dedalus cocked an eyebrow at the crazed Muggle, and Hestia drew her wand, intent on putting a Silencing charm on him, so he wouldn’t wake up the entire street. But at the sight of the wand, he silenced himself immediately, fearing the awful things she would do to him if he continued.
They had arrived in a dirty alleyway off a street nothing like Privet Drive. The buildings were skinny and all more than five stories tall. Not one house resembled its neighbor; the first was red brick, with white shutters and moldings around the windows and door, and seven stories high. Across the street was a stunning white house with imposing columns that traveled to the roof.
Hestia led them out of the alley, with Dedalus and the trunks in tow. It looked like they were in a large city, judging by the skyscrapers in the distance and Dudley wondered if they were in London. They passed a stone building, a house covered completely with vines, and one adorned with two gargoyles, until they stopped in front of a six-story, black building. It had black brick, black shutters, and even a black roof, and lacked all the life found in the other houses.
Two black doors led them into the small lobby where two ancient-looking chairs, several dusty paintings, and an unoccupied concierge desk seemed to be there just to take up space. They walked down a short corridor to the elevator, where Hestia and Dedalus hesitated, wondering how they were supposed to get the elevator to come. “We could try a Summoning charm,” Hestia suggested, but before she took out her wand, Vernon leaned forward and pressed the “up” button, shaking his head and muttering something about incompetence.
“I do love these Muggle contraptions,” Dedalus said excitedly, noting the way the button lit up when it was pushed.
When it arrived, Hestia and Mr. Dursley squeezed inside, along with two of their trunks. Dudley reached to press the “up” button again after the doors had closed, but Dedalus stopped him, and said, “Don’t worry. Your father’s already done that.”
“But we need to press it again,” Dudley said.
“Why? It already knows were here.”
“How will the elevator know we’re here if we don’t press the button?” Dudley asked incredulously.
“Well, it was here before, and we didn’t all fit in, so it’ll come back for us,” Dedalus replied confidently, and then added, “unless this, what did you call it, ely-vader has a bad memory.”
“Elevator’s don’t have memories,” Dudley said, knitting his brows and shaking his head at the old man. “It won’t come back unless we tell it to.”
A moment later, the elevator arrived, after Dudley insisted the button be pushed, and he, Dedalus, and Petunia squeezed into the small space. Dedalus took a piece of parchment from his coat pocket and said that he was to be looking for some sort of control panel with circles and numbers. Dudley raised an eyebrow, and pointed to the buttons right next to the wizard.
He turned to face the buttons, which were numbered one to six, tapped the metal surface with his wand, and said, "Septum Aperio!" The whole thing glowed for a few seconds, and when the light faded, there was a new button for floor seven.
In the back of the elevator, Petunia whimpered. She obviously didn’t like having magic done in front of her. Dedalus pushed the button for floor seven, and, when the elevator started rising, said, “How do these Muggles come up with such things? And without magic!”
They were surprised, when the doors opened, to see Hestia with her wand drawn and looking very pleased with herself, and purple-faced Vernon struggling on the ground, shouting mutely. Petunia rushed over to her husband and tried to get him to tell her what was wrong.
“Invisible ropes and a Silencing charm?” Dedalus questioned, looking quite amused by the situation.
“Well, I couldn’t let him wake everyone up. It would be curious to the people on the sixth floor who are hearing shouts from a seventh floor they think doesn’t exist,” Hestia replied innocently, though she knew perfectly well that no one would hear them. She had just cast a wide range of protective spells on the apartment, including Muffliato.
With a flick of her wand, Hestia removed the enchantments on Vernon, who screamed, “-GET YOU WHEN I GET OUT OF THESE…” before realizing his voice was back. Hestia walked to the only door in the small, dark corridor, unlocked it with a Muggle key, and went inside without giving Vernon a second look.
A/N: “septum” means seven and “aperio” means reveal in Latin.
Rice Krispies and Comic Strips by Ghoul In Pajamas
Many thanks to my beta, Amber0_o
I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters, just my ideas. I also don't own Rice Krispies.
Thanks for reading!
The apartment was more unwelcoming than they could have imagined. The curtains were torn, the wallpaper was peeling, and every surface was covered with a thick layer of dust.
Petunia had an expression of pure disgust on her face as she ran her finger along the kitchen table and inspected the black mark on the tip. Vernon was staring daggers at the back of Hestia’s head, but was careful to stay far away from her.
“Well I can see no one’s cleaned this place in awhile,” Dedalus said, glancing around. Turning to Hestia, he said, “I’m really no good with housekeeping.”
“I think we can survive until morning,” Hestia replied, “except for this dust. It’s horrible.” With a wave of her wand, the layer of dust disappeared, including the spot on Petunia’s finger. Petunia started flicking her hand around wildly, as if it had been contaminated by the magic.
“Good. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” Dedalus said, looking up hopefully at the Dursleys. In Dudley’s opinion, Dedalus didn’t look at all tired. He looked as if he could go a few days without sleep and that goofy grin would still be plastered on his face.
“Yeah, me too,” Dudley said, after an uncomfortable silence. “Er…where’s my room?”
“Just down this hall, last door on the right,” Dedalus said, and then turned to Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. “You’re right next to him, in the master bedroom.”
Dudley followed a narrow hallway to the last door and went inside, ready for a long night’s sleep. He immediately realized that whatever Hestia had done to remove the dust from the kitchen had had no effect here whatsoever. The floorboards creaked ominously as he walked in, the corners of the room were filled with cobwebs, and the paint on the ceiling was cracked and dry. The only furniture in the small room was a bed, a desk, and a chair with a missing leg.
What a night, thought Dudley, sitting down on the bed and allowing a puff of dirt to escape from the duvet. Someone knocked on his door and Hestia walked in, looking rather annoyed. Dudley could only guess she had just been in to see his parents. She flicked her wand casually about the room several times, getting rid of the dust and cobwebs and fixing the broken chair leg.
“I don’t suppose you plan to sleep with those bed sheets, do you?” Hestia asked.
“Er…no,” Dudley said, glancing down at what he was sitting on. “Mine are in my trunk.” He got off the bed and bent down over his trunk, watching Hestia out of the corner of his eye. She made an elaborate motion with her wand, whispered something Dudley couldn’t quite hear, and the old sheets lifted off the bed and folded themselves neatly in a corner. Then, she pointed at the bundle in Dudley’s arms and they assembled themselves on the bed.
Blimey! I might make my bed every once in a while if that’s all I had to do, Dudley thought.
Hestia turned on her heel and left the room, but as she got to the door, Dudley looked up and said, “Thanks.”
She looked at him curiously, before nodding slightly and shutting the door behind her.
Dudley slept in late the next morning and could hear his father’s snores resonating from the next room. After getting dressed, he walked into the kitchen to find Dedalus Diggle reading the newspaper at the kitchen table and his mum scrubbing away furiously at the counter. Dudley wasn’t surprised to see that the spot she was cleaning already looked immaculate, as did the rest of the kitchen.
“Oh, Dudders!” Petunia gasped, running to her son.
“Morning, mum,” Dudley yawned.
“Did you sleep alright? You must get some breakfast! Oh, your room must be filthy!” Petunia said, panicking, before rushing off to Dudley’s room with her cleaning supplies.
Dudley opened a few cupboards at random, and, finding sugared cereal, made himself breakfast. He sat down across from Dedalus and started to eat, but nearly fell out of his chair when he saw the cover of the newspaper.
Dedalus looked at him curiously over the top of The Daily Prophet before Dudley stuttered, “W-why are the pictures mo-moving?”
“Oh, of course,” Dedalus said, realization dawning, “Muggle pictures don’t move, but Wizard pictures do.”
Dedalus went back to what he was reading and Dudley stared at the newspaper with wide eyes. At the top, it said The Daily Prophet in big print. Headlines flashed across the page and people waved or gave speeches into the camera. Dudley wondered who He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could be; he was in three of the headlines. At the bottom, it advertised different sections, Weather: page 17, Quidditch: page 22, and Deaths: page 26, but Dudley didn’t notice this.
“Er…Mr. Diggle?” Dudley asked politely.
“Yes,” said Dedalus, looking up eagerly from The Prophet.
“I was reading the front page, and,” Dudley started, not sure how to continue, “well, who’s He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”
Dudley saw a bit of worry flicker across Dedalus’ otherwise cheerful expression, but it quickly faded, and he asked Dudley, leaning close as if sharing a secret, “You don’t know? Harry never told you who you’re hiding from?”
“Yes,” Dudley said, also leaning closer to Dedalus, “He said we were hiding from someone named Lord Voldemort.”
“I should have guessed Harry called him by his name.” When Dudley still looked puzzled, he went on. “Most people call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, because they are so afraid of him.”
“They’re too afraid to even say his name?” Dudley asked.
“You have to understand, You-Know-Who isn’t just any dark wizard. He’s the most powerful dark wizard there ever was. People have good reason to be afraid. He’s killed so many people.”
“What does he kill people for?” Dudley asked, before realizing what a childish question this must be.
“Power,” Dedalus stated simply, not finding the question childish. He didn’t want to explain the struggle between Muggleborns and purebloods, though, so he returned to his article about tightened security at the Ministry.
They sat in silence while Dudley pondered what Dedalus had said about Lord Voldemort. He had killed so many people that most people won’t speak his name, all for power. Dudley remembered his dad telling him that it was important to have power at work. But what lengths would he go to for power?
He returned to his cereal, but looked up when Dedalus started laughing. Dedalus saw him staring and asked, “Do you like the comics?”
“Sure,” said Dudley. Dedalus turned the paper around and pointed to a moving picture, titled ‘Fudgey,’ of a cartoon man in a lime-green bowler hat reading a newspaper, sitting at a table with a toad. A caption above the man popped up, saying, “I can’t believe all this rubbish about ‘The Chosen One!’”
The toad said, “Complete rubbish!”
“Why in Merlin’s name would they come up with such things?”
“For the same reasons you told everyone You-Know-Who wasn’t back,” said the toad.
Then, the man rolled up his newspaper and smacked the toad over the head and the cartoon started to replay itself. Dudley watched it again, trying to comprehend why the toad was talking, what ‘The Chosen One’ was, and why Dedalus seemed to find it so funny. He finally gave up and said, “I don’t get it.”
Dedalus, who had been looking expectantly at Dudley for the last couple minutes, let out a sigh, and proceeded to explain the cartoon. “The man in the bowler hat is Cornelius Fudge and the toad is Dolores Umbridge.”
“Who and who?”
“Wow! Harry really didn’t tell you anything. Well, Cornelius Fudge is ex-Minister of Magic and Dolores Umbridge was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and Professor at Hogwarts, but that was all a big scandal, just the Ministry trying to interfere at the school. When You-Know-Who returned, Dumbledore told ““
“Who’s Dumbledore?”
“He was the Headmaster at Hogwarts, anyway, he told Fudge that You-Know-Who was back, but Fudge was in denial because he didn’t want his perfect little world in uproar, so he convinced everyone that Dumbledore was senile and Harry was a stupid teenager looking for attention so that nobody believed them about You-Know”“
“Wait, when did Harry come into the story?” asked Dudley, thoroughly confused.
“When he witnessed You-Know-Who come back from the dead. Well, he wasn’t really dead, but he didn’t have a body. I don’t quite understand it. But it wasn’t until You-Know-Who showed up in the Ministry of Magic and dozens of witnesses saw him, that they finally stopped printing stuff about Dumbledore and Harry being crazy. Now Harry is ‘The Chosen One’ and Fudge is mocked weekly in my new favorite comic,” Dedalus ended with a little laugh.
“I am so confused,” Dudley sighed.
The lock on the door clicked, and Hestia walked into the kitchen, looking discouraged.
“Well?” Dedalus prompted.
“Mad-Eye’s dead.”
Dedalus bowed his head, and Hestia sat down next to him, resting her chin on her fists. They sat in silence for a moment, and Dudley felt uncomfortable, like he was interrupting, but if he were to leave it would be more disruptive. He didn’t know who Mad-Eye was, but somewhere in the recesses of his mind was an image of a man with a crooked bowler hat threatening his dad at King’s Cross Station.
“The Death Eaters have completely reformatted security at the Ministry. They say it’s been increased, when, really, it’s just been changed so that the Death Eaters will have no problem taking over when the time is right,” Hestia said, relaying the events of the Order meeting.
“I don’t suppose Scrimgeour is doing anything about this?”
“No. Nothing else important happened at the meeting. We went over recent deaths, developments, and assignments. Only about half of the Order was there, though, because everyone is helping the Weasley’s prepare for Bill’s wedding.”
“Yes…good boy,” said Dedalus, “Don’t care too much for that fiancée of his, though.”
“Yes, speaking of the French, we’re going into the city this afternoon to shop. I’m not living off of Rice Krispies for as long as we’re stuck here.”
“What do you mean ‘speaking of the French’?” Dudley asked. Hestia looked up, noticing Dudley for the first time.
“Did we forget to tell you last night? We’re in Paris,” Dedalus said.
Vernon walked into the kitchen looking grumpy as ever that morning. “What is wrong with your lots’ mattresses? It’s like sleeping on plywood!”
He looked at the three grouped around the breakfast table and narrowed his eyes at the wizards, “Why are you talking to my son?”
“We’re just being friendly. After all, we don’t know how long we’ll be living together,” said Dedalus, trying to reason with Vernon, who seemed to have regained some confidence since last night.
“You don’t need to be getting friendly with my son. We can get along perfectly well without getting friendly with your lot.” Vernon spat the last words as if they caused him pain.
Hestia stood abruptly from her seat and marched to face Vernon, standing a head shorter than him. Speaking sharply and in a commanding tone, she said, “Like it or not, our lot are the ones protecting you. Our lot are the ones who have a connection to the man you’re running from. You’d better start getting along with our lot, or you’re going to have a pretty miserable time here.”
Vernon scoffed as his face swelled and purpled. “Dudley, we’re going into the living room,” ordered Vernon. Dudley followed, and, for the first time since he could remember, his father sat down to watch Sunday cartoons before he got breakfast.
été à Paris by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author’s Notes:
Thank you, Amber0_o/The_Mystic for betaing!
Once again, I don’t own Harry Potter…
été à Paris
Dudley had spent most of the morning in his room, avoiding both his parents and the wizards. After his father’s last blow-up, he didn’t want to get him angry by being around Dedalus or Hestia.
“Are we ready to leave? We have a lot of shopping to do and I can’t make heads or tails of this Muggle money,” Dedalus called, turning over a fifty franc banknote in his hands. He was wearing black Muggle jeans, a silk purple shirt, white boots, and a matching white top hat.
As appalled as he was by Dedalus’ outfit (after all, he was still a Dursley), Dudley had to stifle a laugh at his mother’s reaction. Her eyes seemed to be bursting out of her head and her lips were tightly pursed in an effort to hold back a nasty comment.
She looked somewhat relieved when she saw Hestia, who knew more about dressing like a Muggle, in blue jeans, a white blouse, and sandals. The Dursleys and their wizard escorts left the apartment and walked a few blocks to a convenience store.
The only other time Dudley had been to Paris was when he was fourteen. His family only took vacations during the winter because they never knew how long Harry would stay over the summer. His mum had taken them to the Eiffel Tower, shopping on the Champs-Elysees, and other tourist spots in dreadful negative ten degree weather. He much preferred Paris in the summertime.
They turned left onto a large street filled with storefronts and parked cars. There weren’t many people out at this time, but those they passed gave Dedalus strange looks.
They turned into the convenience store at the corner and Dedalus looked around in interest. “Where is that light coming from?” he asked, pointing to the ceiling.
“What?” asked Dudley, also looking up at the ceiling.
“The Muggles didn’t charm them to produce light; are there candles in there?” asked Dedalus curiously.
“No,” said Dudley, smiling, “they’re light bulbs.”
“Light bulbs?”
“Yeah, don’t wizards have light bulbs?”
“No. I don’t even know what a light bulb is.”
“It’s…umm…kind of a thing and it makes light…with electricity,” said Dudley awkwardly, realizing he had no idea how to explain what a light bulb is.
“What’s electricity?”
“Er…it powers things…with plugs.” Dudley couldn’t believe he was explaining something as basic as electricity.
“Fascinating!” Dedalus exclaimed, as he wandered down the frozen food aisle. Dudley suddenly realized he was alone and blocking the door, so he ran after Dedalus.
Dedalus had pulled out a box of microwaveable chicken fingers and was reading the directions on the back. “Can you believe it only takes five minutes to cook this?” he asked, waving the box in the air enthusiastically.
“Er…yeah,” said Dudley, “What happened to my parents and Hestia?”
“They’re probably getting stuff from the list.” Dedalus started pulling random items from the shelves and inspecting them, before he lost interest and asked Dudley, “Why do you think your parents have such a problem with wizards?”
The bluntness of the question caught Dudley off-guard. He had had no reason to disagree with his parents, until Harry saved his life. His parents had it so ingrained in his mind that wizards, magic, and wands were a part of his life that should be kept a secret that he never questioned it. He too started to dislike magic, distancing himself further from Harry.
Dedalus brought Dudley out of his thoughts. “I had thought maybe your mother and Lily would have been close; they were only two years apart, and Lily was a marvelous witch.”
“They never told me anything about her. In fact, Harry always got into trouble if he asked about his parents,” Dudley reflected. “I think they’re just afraid of wizards, because they were used to their normal life without wizards or magic before Harry came along. They just don’t want anyone to find out.”
“There are wizards who feel the same way about Muggles,” Dedalus said, deciding to tell Dudley the reason for the war. “Some have taken it to an extreme level, though.”
“What do you mean?”
Dedalus told Dudley about Voldemort and his followers’ belief that only wizards with magical blood should be allowed to practice magic, but that most wizards knew that blood status doesn’t matter. He was starting to tell him about Voldemort’s rise to power in the first war, when Hestia and Dudley’s parents turned down their aisle.
“There you two are! Your father’s been an absolute nightmare, talking about how us wizards are going to corrupt you,” Hestia said sarcastically.
“Oh, just go ahead and shout it to the world!” Vernon hissed.
“In case you haven’t noticed, everyone in this country speaks French.”
“The man at the deli knew English! What if he heard you?”
“Yes, I’m sure he heard me at the opposite end of the store,” said Hestia, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Plus, if I remember correctly, ten minutes ago you were complaining because he didn’t know the word ham. I highly doubt he knows what wizard means.”
“Stop saying that word!” Mr. Dursley said, and it was obvious that it was taking a lot of effort for him to keep his voice down. Hestia smirked, and Vernon took a calming breath and turned to Dudley, who thus far had been quiet. “Why did you run off with him?”
“You disappeared, so I didn’t know where to go,” said Dudley cautiously. His parents had never accused him of doing anything wrong before. In fact, they usually made excuses for him when he did things wrong.
“You should have found us,” said Vernon.
“Oh, give it a rest,” Hestia drawled, “We just need a few more things and we can leave.”
They continued in silence, with only Hestia’s questions for Petunia about Muggle products until they got to the check-out line. Dudley couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the prospect that You-Know-Who hates Muggles. It had never occurred to him that wizards might not like Muggles, because he had always been so afraid of them. There are a lot of people on the Muggle-born side, at least, and Harry’s one of them, Dudley thought.
“Bonjour,” said the lady at the counter, eyeing Dedalus strangely.
“Bonjour!” he said brightly.
“713 francs,” she said as she finished ringing up the groceries.
Dedalus started fumbling around in his pockets and pulled out a stack of bills, which he began flipping through, pulling out notes, and placing them back. Finally, he gave up and looked to Petunia for help. She quickly flipped through the stack and handed the correct amount to the cashier.
As soon as they got out of the store, Hestia stopped at a bus stop bench and took two regular-looking brown bags from inside her purse. On the side, they said Mr. Bailey’s Bottomless Bags; one also said, with cooling charm.
Dedalus and Hestia started pulling items out of the many bags they were given at the grocery and placing them inside these bags, but no matter how many things they put into them, they never filled. Dudley looked into the mysterious bags, but all he could see was darkness; it was like looking into a black hole.
Once they were finished, Hestia turned and looked up and down the street, then said, “I think the café the man at the deli recommended is this way.”
When they walked into the small café, they were greeted by the smell of coffee and croissants. There was a large lunch rush, and after a moment a hassled-looking waitress rushed over to seat them.
She led them to the back of the restaurant where everybody crowded around the small table. Dudley picked up his menu and realized that everything was written in French. Dedalus began reading his, before Hestia cleared her throat to get his attention.
“Oh, of course,” Dedalus said, as he pulled his wand out of his pocket.
“Hide that! This is a Muggle restaurant!” Hestia reprimanded.
Dedalus slid the wand under the table and said “Reddo ut Anglais!”
“Thank you,” said Hestia, and she and Dedalus began reading their menus.
Dudley was surprised when he saw that his menu was now written in English. He was starving, and the sandwich menu seemed like an excellent place to start, but his parents weren’t quite so content.
“What happened?” asked Petunia, whose face was white with shock.
“He performed a language charm on the menus; in case you haven’t noticed, they’re now written in English,” said Hestia sarcastically.
“I guess you don’t have to worry about language problems as much?” asked Dudley.
“It doesn’t work like that. You can only perform the charm if you know both languages already. That’s why Dedalus had to do it; he speaks French.”
“Not very well,” Dedalus said, looking up from his menu, “There are a whole lot of grammar and spelling errors on here.”
Dudley looked down and read, Roast Beef Sandwitch, serves on Rye bread with provolone cheese, tomatoes, and came with house-made sauce. The whole menu had errors like this, but Dudley didn’t mind as long as he could read it.
The waitress came back a few minutes later and Dedalus took their orders. He realized after they had handed the menus back to the waitress that they were still written in English. A hastily performed nonverbal counter-charm returned them to their former French state, albeit with many more grammatical errors.
“That would have been curious if I’d forgotten to change those back!” said Dedalus, looking relieved, after the waitress left.
“That is exactly why you shouldn’t be doing any of that...you know...out in public!” Vernon said in a low but menacing voice.
“And how else do you plan on ordering your meal?” Hestia questioned. “Especially one so large, honestly, it could feed”“
“How about those Chudley Cannons?” Dedalus cut in strategically, smiling nervously.
After a moment of uneasy silence, Hestia leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, surrendering to Dedalus’ change of conversation, while Vernon grunted his lack of approval.
“So, what do you think?” Dedalus continued cautiously, though he realized the Dursleys didn’t know anything about Quidditch; it was too late to change the topic now. “Now that they’ve replaced their seeker, we might actually stand a chance.”
“What are you talking about?” Vernon snapped, leaning across the table threateningly. Dedalus looked sideways at Hestia, who was absentmindedly stirring her tea. She gave him a curious smile “ almost a smirk “ and waited to hear his answer.
“Quidditch...I forgot that you don’t know what it is,” Dedalus said, smiling and looking from Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, to Dudley, to Hestia, and back to Vernon, who was still glaring at him like they were having a staring contest. “It’s a sport, played on brooms, with four balls and six goals. I’ve been told it’s rather like a Muggle sport called football.”
Dedalus continued explaining Quidditch in full detail for the entire lunch hour, stopping only when the waitress came over with their meals and to ask how they were doing. He told them the rules, strategies, and tricks of the game, recounted last years league standings, and explained why this would be the Chudley Cannon’s comeback year.
Vernon had long since drowned out Dedalus’ voice and taken to eating his sandwich much more forcefully than usual, pretending it was Hestia’s head. Petunia listened silently to Dedalus’ description of the game, and decided it was much too violent for table discussion. Hestia spent the time wrapped up in her own thoughts, mostly about the Order meeting that morning.
While Dudley feigned a lack of interest for his parents’ sake, he couldn’t imagine a cooler sport than Quidditch. Dudley pictured himself flying around on a broomstick, hitting the other team with magical Bludgers (because he would, of course, be a Beater), and being cheered on by thousands of fans.
They walked back to the apartment in silence, because Dedalus felt he had bored everyone enough at lunch. But Dudley wanted to learn more about the world which he had blocked out of his life for so long. He only needed to find a time when his father wasn’t around to pick a fight.
Author’s Notes:
Reddo ut means translate to in Latin and Anglais means English in French
The Silver Lynx by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes
Thanks for my help from my betas, Amber0_o and ix3thehpseries!
As usual, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.
The Silver Lynx
The next few days were quiet at the apartment. The Dursleys had mostly kept their distance from their wizard hosts. Petunia had spent most of her time cleaning and the apartment was starting to look livable. Vernon was keeping a close watch on Dudley; since the trip to the store, Dudley couldn’t seem to get a moment by himself.
Friday evening, while looking for a snack, Vernon complained to Hestia that she didn’t get anything from the store he had wanted.
“You were right there! If you wanted something you could have gotten it.” Hestia rolled her eyes at Vernon before focusing again on her hand of exploding snap.
“You kept saying to stick to the list!”
“I said to make sure we got everything on the list. I didn’t say you couldn’t get anything else.”
“Yes you did! You said “!“ Vernon was cut off because, at this exact moment, Dedalus’ cards exploded in his face, making a large burn mark on Vernon’s shirt. “What the -? What the bloody hell was that?” Vernon shouted.
“Oh, forgive me. Exploding Snap,” Dedalus explained. “Normally a child’s game, but it’s a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine.”
“THIS IS A MAD HOUSE!” Vernon roared, as he stomped off to his room.
Dudley had been waiting patiently for a chance to talk to Dedalus and Hestia alone. With his mother cleaning in the living room, he saw his chance and took a seat by Dedalus at the kitchen table.
They seemed surprised by his presence; Hestia even raised an eyebrow at him.
“What are you playing?” asked Dudley politely.
“Exploding Snap. We can deal you in,” Dedalus offered cheerfully.
“Sure,” said Dudley, nervously eyeing Dedalus’ ashen face and charred eyebrows. Dudley caught on to the game quickly because it was similar to the Muggle game, Snap.
They played for some time in silence, except when the cards exploded. Dudley wanted to talk to them but every time he worked up the courage to mention Quidditch or the war, something made him close his mouth and return his eyes to his cards.
Finally, when the silence was unbearable he asked, “You say brooms can accelerate to 150 miles per hour in ten seconds?”
Dedalus chuckled. “And I thought no one was paying attention to my monologue the other day at lunch. The Firebolt can do naught to 150 in ten seconds.” At Dudley’s confused look, Dedalus clarified, “There are different models of broomsticks. The Firebolt is currently the best there is; they use it in the Quidditch World Cup.”
“Harry has a Firebolt,” Hestia remarked absently.
“Does Harry play Quidditch?” asked Dudley.
“Yes, I believe he plays seeker for noble Gryffindor!” said Dedalus.
“What’s Gryffindor?”
“It’s one of the houses at Hogwarts. There are also Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin,” said Hestia.
“Which house is the best?” asked Dudley.
“Gryffindor,” said Dedalus.
“Ravenclaw, of course,” said Hestia.
Dudley laughed and said, “I think I know which houses each of you were in.”
“Everyone thinks their own house is the best, but they’re really just different,” said Dedalus.
“But, really, Ravenclaw is the best,” said Hestia, smirking.
They were able to have a relaxed conversation after this. Hestia and Dedalus seemed content to reminisce about their days at Hogwarts. They compared the ways it had changed since each of them had gone to school and told stories about different classmates and teachers. Most notably, Dedalus told Hestia about her Transfiguration teacher, Minerva McGonagall, who had been a classmate of his.
Their depiction of Hogwarts only enhanced Dudley’s vision of the magical world being an incredible, surreal place. For the first time in his life, Dudley was jealous of Harry Potter, because he had something Dudley could never have.
Dudley told them about Muggle schools, though he had no idea how they could be even remotely interested in his, after hearing about what their school had been like.
After a half hour, Dudley and Dedalus’ cards had exploded in their faces numerous times, covering them with soot, while Hestia remained clean and the clear winner.
“Maybe we should stop now, before you two lose your eyebrows completely,” Hestia remarked sardonically.
Dudley got up from the table and went into the living room, where his mum was polishing the coffee table. “Hello, Mum.”
“Hello, Dudley,” she said stiffly.
Her less than polite greeting surprised him, but he shook it off as nerves; she had been cleaning non-stop for days. He sat down to watch television, eyeing his mother curiously.
After five minutes, Petunia finished polishing and Dudley propped his feet on the coffee table. She checked her list and immediately set out to do her next project: washing and sewing the curtains.
“Dudley, you should be starting the homework assignments your teachers gave you,” said Petunia. “How can you sit there and watch TV in French?”
“It’s still summer, mum!” Dudley complained, shocked. “Plus, I’m only watching cartoons; they make sense in any language.”
Petunia started taking the curtain off the hooks. “It would still do you well to get ahead this “ aaaahhhh!”
Dudley spun around to see his mother swatting at what looked like large furry flies. A dozen were flying around her head, getting into her hair, and pulling at her clothes. He was torn between helping his mother and running from the room, when Dedalus and Hestia burst into the room brandishing their wands.
“What’s wrong?”
“Doxies!” Dedalus shouted, as he took in the chaos that was unfolding in the living room.
“Get these off of me!” Petunia shrieked. She was dancing around the living room, waving her arms wildly at the aggressive beasts.
Dudley could only look on in shock and horror.
“I have some Doxycide in my room,” said Hestia, and she rushed out of the room, bumping into Vernon as he came from the opposite direction.
“What “ are these “ things?” Petunia shouted between her attempts to fight off the creatures, climbing over the couch as they pursued her.
“They’re doxies,” said Dedalus, as he ran over to help her. “They infest draperies and curtains, but they’re fairly easy to get rid of. Just be careful not to get bitten, because they’re poisonous.”
“Poisonous!” Petunia screamed, terror in her voice. “Dudders, go into your bedroom!”
Dedalus picked an old book off the shelf and began using it to ward off the doxies, knocking two unconscious. Meanwhile, a stray doxy wandered over to Vernon, who spent just as much effort fighting one doxy as Petunia and Dedalus did with many.
“Hestia, where’s that Doxycide?” Dedalus shouted.
“I can’t find it!” Hestia’s muffled voice sounded through the hall. “I know it’s here! I packed it because no one’s lived in this place for years.”
“Vernon, why aren’t you helping her look for it?” Petunia shrieked. “And Dudley, go to your room, NOW!”
Vernon trudged off to Hestia’s room and Dudley followed, resolving to help search for the Doxycide.
Hestia’s room was an utter disaster. Bureau dressers were thrown open, clothes were strewn across the floor, and books lay in heaps in the corners. Dudley wondered if all this mess had been made just now, or if it had been like this before. Hestia was running in every direction looking for the Doxycide, not noticing their presence.
“Er… Can we help look?” Dudley asked.
Hestia looked up at them blankly. “Just start looking “ it’s a large black spray bottle,” she said frantically.
Dudley felt awkward sifting through someone’s personal belongings “ especially a woman’s “ but he picked a drawer and started searching. His father wasn’t helping with the search, but was stumbling around the room avoiding the doxy that had taken a fancy to him. Dudley could still hear his mum’s shrieks and Dedalus’ encouragement from the other room. A couple minutes and three drawers later, Hestia exclaimed, “Oi! I’ve got it!” and raced out of the room.
Dudley followed her to find that she was fervently spraying the doxies that had been attacking Petunia and Dedalus while they covered their mouths with their shirts. The doxies fell to the ground, unconscious, as they were sprayed.
Vernon came plodding in behind Dudley, shouting, “Spray this one! Spray this one! For God’s sake, woman, spray this one!”
When Hestia had finished with the doxies attacking Petunia and Dedalus, she sprayed the one harassing Vernon. He fell back into the nearest armchair, weary from fighting off the doxy. Out of breath, he started mumbling, “You… wanted me to suffer. That’s why you sprayed my bug last.”
Hestia scoffed. “Your bug? Would you like to keep it for a pet?”
“Where did all those things come from?” Dudley asked.
Petunia, whose face was stark-white from her encounter, took a moment to compose herself. “The curtains. I was taking the curtains down and they flew out at me.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“They’ve probably infested every curtain in the house,” Hestia said.
Petunia gasped, and looked fearfully at the pile of unconscious doxies on the ground.
“But it’s not a bad infestation. If it were, we would have heard the curtains humming.”
“You brought us to an infested building!” Vernon was out of his chair and steaming. “It was bad enough when we showed up and the place was dusty and dirty, and with broken furniture, but this building should be condemned!”
“Oh, come off it. We just do a simple ““
“A bunch of poisonous bat-things with teeth just attacked my wife and I!” Vernon yelled.
“Doxies, actually,” Dedalus cut in, “fairy creatures. Do you know this bottle says it’s good for up to thirty de-doxyings? We only have nine curtains, so we’re set!”
“There was only one doxy bothering you!” Hestia shouted, ignoring Dedalus completely.
Vernon huffed and crossed his arms. “Who’s counting anyway? I’m talking about my family’s safety! We cannot live in a place like this! We’ll probably come down with some rare incurable disease next!”
“Do you think I’m used to living in these conditions? But this is the place the Order set up for us to stay, so this is what you’ll have to live with. Would you rather risk it with the Death Eaters?”
“Is that the teapot whistling? I think I might have finally figured out how to use that Muggle stove!” Dedalus exclaimed.
“I think these stories about the Death Eaters are a load of tosh! It sounds like a comic book story to me!”
A silver lynx leapt into the living room, surprising everyone and ending Vernon’s rant. He stumbled back a few steps to avoid its path. It opened its mouth wide and Kingsley’s low voice delivered the foreboding message, “The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”
A/N: If that message seems familiar, it’s because it’s the same one Kingsley sent to Bill and Fleur’s wedding. I hope I can update before the queue closes, but if not, Happy Holidays!
Death Eaters, Weasels, and Rumours, Oh my! by Ghoul In Pajamas
Things I am not:
1. JK Rowling
2. maker of aspirin
3. actually a Ghoul, though my name suggests differently
4. owner of Harry Potter or any of the characters in my story
5. as wonderful at betaing as Amber0_o or ix3hpseries. Thank you two so much!
Death Eaters, Weasels, and Rumours, Oh my!:
All thoughts of doxies were erased from their minds. Hestia and Dedalus drew their wands, trying to deduce the meaning of the message.
The Dursleys wanted information. They weren’t sure what the message meant, but they could tell it was not good.
“How could they find us here,” Hestia whispered, creeping to the front windows and lifting the blinds. “Dedalus,” she said shakily, beckoning him over.
They looked down at the street for some time, whispering to each other. Dudley was getting restless. He wanted to know what the message was about, what they were staring at, and if they were in any danger.
He cleared his throat several times, but to no avail. In an effort to remind Dedalus and Hestia that he and his parents were still in the room, Dudley casually knocked a few books off of their shelf. Hestia and Dedalus whipped around, wands aimed at Dudley. Dedalus shouted, “Stupefy!” and a jet of red light soared straight at Dudley’s chest.
***
The next thing he knew, his mother was draped across his body, Hestia was standing over him with her wand aimed at his chest, and his arse was sore.
“Oh, Duddykins!” his mother wailed, “Are you okay?”
His father was furious. “”creatures attacked me! My wife! And now my son!”
“I thought it was an intruder,” choked Dedalus, but Vernon wouldn’t hear of it.
“AN INTRUDER! What gave you that idea? That bloody cat that nearly ran me over a minute ago?”
“Yes, actually, if you would let me explain”“
“NO! WE ARE LEAVING! NOW! Petunia, Dudley, pack your trunks!” Vernon yelled, as he made his way to the hall.
“You’re not leaving,” Hestia said calmly.
“What?” Vernon turned to face her, the purple color of his face deepening. “You want to tell me what to do now, is that it? Well, let me tell you, Vernon Dursley does not take orders from anyone.”
“Fine,” she said, after Vernon had finished ranting. “But why don’t you take a look out of the window before you make your decision.”
Vernon stepped heavily toward the window, huffing all the way, lifted the blinds, and stared for a moment. Dudley could tell his father was doing some quick thinking. He turned around and said, “I suppose there will be no need to pack tonight.”
Petunia looked at him fearfully for answers, but he had none.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” he asked impatiently.
“How did they find us here?” Hestia asked, ignoring Vernon’s question and turning to Dedalus. “We’re protected, the building is unplottable.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Dedalus nervously ran his fingers through what was left of his thin grey hair.
“Who are those people?” Vernon demanded.
“Death Eaters,” Dedalus said dismissively. “You don’t think someone leaked the location?”
Petunia gripped Dudley’s arm so tight he thought it might fall off. “Death Eaters?” she asked faintly.
“Kingsley, Mad-Eye, and Arthur Weasley are the only ones who know. Mad-Eye’s dead, Kingsley must be safe, because he sent the message, and Arthur… he would never tell.”
“Arthur Weasley?” Vernon inquired. “Is that the red-headed bloke? I bet he did it; I knew he was trouble from the moment I saw him!”
“Yes, but how could they find us then?” Dedalus asked, wandering over to the window.
Vernon was losing patience. “Do you even realize that we are still IN THE ROOM!”
“There are things of more importance,” Hestia said, brushing him off. “For now it seems like we’re okay as long as these enchantments hold. They can’t come upstairs or see us, but they certainly know we are here.”
She turned to the Dursleys. “If you were looking forward to a wonderful vacation in Paris, that’s shot. You three are on lockdown.”
“YOU CANNOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”
“Please,” Dedalus asked. “Please, we are simply trying to protect you.”
“Then tell me what the bloody hell is going on!”
“Well, you saw the Death Eaters out of the window”“ Dedalus started.
“Yes, I saw them,” Vernon said bitterly, barely controlling his temper.
“And Harry explained why they might be after you”“
“Yes,” Vernon said through clenched teeth, “but I’m not quite sure I believe”“
“Somehow they found us here,” Hestia interrupted. “We’re not sure how yet, but they can’t get to you while you are in the apartment.”
“How do you know they can’t get to us? Maybe they’re waiting for something!”
While his father argued with Hestia, Dudley’s curiosity got the better of him. His mum tried to pull him back, but he was too strong, and he dragged her all the way to the window.
Parting the blinds slightly, Dudley looked to the street below. He could only see a small patch of light below the street lamp, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to discern dark shapes on the sidewalk. Three masked, cloaked figures stared up at the building.
“So these are Death Eaters,” he whispered.
“Oh dear, what will the neighbours think!” Petunia squeaked. “Dudley, get away from the window.”
“Don’t worry, they can’t see you,” Dedalus said, surprising Dudley and making Petunia jump. Neither had realized he was listening. “The seventh floor isn’t visible from the street.”
“But how do you know they won’t get into the lift and do some of that hokey-pokey you did to build another floor?” Vernon asked. He was still unconvinced that the Death Eaters wouldn’t get to them in the middle of the night.
“We didn’t build another floor; that would be absurd,” Hestia laughed. “It’s just invisible.”
“Oh, building another floor is absurd, but an invisible one makes perfect sense!” Vernon scoffed.
“Well, magic doesn’t work that way,” explained Dedalus. “If you’re going to build, it takes time, more than one wave of the wand, and it should really be done by a professional.”
“A professional!” Vernon muttered under his breath as he left the room. “You want a professional, you come down to Grunnings. There you’ll find professionals.”
***
That night, Dudley lay awake in his bedroom waiting for sleep to come. Thoughts raced around in his head as he tried to understand what was happening. He was getting a headache.
With intentions of going to the loo to take an aspirin, he pushed back the covers and pulled on a bathrobe. Slowly opening his creaky bedroom door, Dudley heard hushed voices from the living room.
“…If they knew a way in, they would have come by now,” Dedalus whispered.
“Unless they are waiting for more people, or to be sure we are asleep,” said Hestia. “I’d like to hear from someone from the Order, someone who knows what is going on.”
“Mundungus said”“
“Yes, Mundungus being such a reliable source,” she said sarcastically.
Taking steps forward to hear the conversation better, Dudley stubbed his toe on the doorframe, making an Oomph sound. The scratching of chairs indicated that Hestia and Dedalus had heard, and a moment later, for the second time this night, he was staring down the tips of both of their wands.
He threw his hands into the air, like one would do for the Muggle policemen, but they relaxed their wands.
“What are you doing awake at this hour?” Hestia asked suspiciously.
“Getting an aspirin,” he replied nervously.
“Right,” Hestia replied, disbelieving. “You can put your arms down.”
“Oh it’s alright if the boy is curious,” said Dedalus, stepping forward. “We were never able to explain the situation properly earlier. Do you have questions?”
Dudley had questions, many questions, but he was not sure where to begin. “Harry told us You-Know-Who might come after us to get to Harry, but, er… what does Harry have to do with him? Why does he want Harry so badly?”
“That’s a good question,” Dedalus replied enthusiastically.
Hestia rolled her eyes. “You two will be up all night if you’re going to try to explain that. I’m going to sleep; wake me up if you get any news.”
Taking a seat in the living room, Dedalus began the story. “Harry’s parents were in the Order of the Phoenix, that’s the group fighting You-Know-Who, years ago. They found out that he was after them, so they went into hiding. But You-Know-Who found them and killed Harry’s parents. But when he tried to kill Harry, the curse back-fired and You-Know-Who disappeared…”
He continued the story for another hour, with many interruptions from Dudley, who had questions. He covered the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Harry witnessing You-Know-Who’s return, the Ministry’s insistence that he hadn’t returned, and the Battle at Hogwarts. Dudley felt overwhelmed by everything he was hearing, yet excited to hear more.
When a silver weasel leapt into the room, Dedalus paused the story to receive the message. “Meeting Sunday, Do not use Floo, They have been tapping it for weeks. Do not reply, We are being watched.”
“What are those?” Dudley asked.
“Patronuses,” said Dedalus, as he went to wake Hestia.
“Isn’t that what Harry used against the dementors?” asked Dudley.
“Yes; they have multiple uses.” He knocked and it only took a moment for her to answer the door.
“What’s happened?”
“There is a meeting Sunday. When you went to the meeting the other day, did you use the Floo?” he asked.
“Yes, why?”
“That must be how they found us. Arthur Weasley said the Death Eaters have been tapping the Floo Network for weeks.”
“That makes sense. They’ve been everywhere else in the Ministry, why not the Floo department? I should have been thinking.”
“It’s not your fault. Anyway, this means they probably don’t even know Dudley’s family is here.”
“They know I am here and probably that the house belongs to Kingsley,” she reasoned. “I can’t believe you two are still awake. I told you it would take all night.”
“I’m almost finished. Now, rumour has it, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are off on some mission they were given by Dumbledore. Hopefully, this is what will finally stop You-Know-Who.”
“Remember the other day, from that comic strip, you said Harry is ‘The Chosen One’. What does that mean?”
“A lot of people believe that Harry will be the one to defeat You-Know-Who, so he changed from ‘The Boy Who Lived’ to ‘The Chosen One’.”
“Do you believe it?” Dudley asked anxiously.
“Yes, I do,” he answered simply.
“I do too,” Dudley said excitedly. “If he can face You-Know-Who three times and live, that has to mean something.”
“He’s faced him more than three times,” said Hestia.
Dudley thought for a moment, then said, “No, it’s just three. When he was a baby, when You-Know-Who returned, and at the Ministry.”
“Dedalus didn’t tell you about the Basilisk?” she asked, feigning shock. “Or the Sorcerer’s Stone?”
“I thought I would save that for another time,” Dedalus said.
“Why not now?” Dudley complained.
“I’ll tell the story,” Hestia offered. When Dedalus gave her an odd look, she said, “Now that I’m awake, I might as well. In Harry’s first year at Hogwarts, there was this magical stone, called the Sorcerer’s Stone, which produces the Elixir of Life, making the drinker immortal. It was being stored at the school, because… well I don’t really know why, but it was.”
“Well, because You-Know-Who was trying to steal it,” Dedalus explained. “Do you remember when someone broke into Gringott’s? They were trying to steal the stone. It was because Dumbledore took it out in time that he didn’t get it.”
“Oh, okay,” she agreed. “The Stone was being protected by many things in the school. Rumour has it, all of the teachers contributed different spells and obstacles so that anyone trying to steal it couldn’t get to it”“
“That’s not how it was being protected,” Dedalus interrupted, “there was a dog guarding it.”
“A dog?” Hestia asked sardonically. “You’re telling me that the Sorcerer’s Stone was being protected by a dog?”
“Not just any dog. It was Hagrid’s three-headed dog, Fluffy.”
“A three-headed dog named Fluffy?” Dudley asked curiously.
“That’s just silly,” said Hestia. “Harry, Ron, and Hermione got wind of their Professor Quirrel trying to steal the stone and went after him the night he was going to steal it.”
“They didn’t actually know it was Quirrel; they thought it was Snape,” Dedalus said. “And Hagrid went with them. They needed him to get past the dog.”
“There was no dog!” said Hestia. “They went after Quirrel and they had to play a game of Wizard’s chess, fight a troll, and duel Quirrel for the stone.”
“No, after they got past the dog, they went through a trap door which led them to an underground maze, and they split up to get to the stone before Quirrel.”
“That’s ridiculous. Dudley, don’t listen to him. When Harry killed Quirrel in the duel, he took the stone and the three of them left.”
“Harry didn’t kill him,” Dedalus said, aghast, “he couldn’t stand for Harry to touch him, and then he died. Harry didn’t duel him.”
“What do you mean Harry couldn’t touch him?”
“I don’t know. It had something to do with You-Know-Who being on the back of his head.”
“You are joking,” said Hestia. “I am going to sleep. Three-headed dogs, You-Know-Who on Quirrel’s head. The things you come up with!”
After she left, Dedalus leaned close to Dudley and said, “Don’t believe a word she said, it’s just rumour.”
If Dudley was having a hard time sleeping earlier, it was nothing compared to how he felt now.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you think in this lovely review box!
What Dudley Doesn't Know About His Mum by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes:
I can't believe how long it's been since I've updated this story! I feel awful about that, but real life got a bit crazy and I didn't have much time for mugglenet. To make up for it, this chapter is extra long (almost twice as long as usual)! Enjoy! Many thanks to wonderful beta, Emily (AmberO_o), and everyone who helped out in my Excerpts of Murtlap Thread!
Vernon had his face pressed against the window, watching for Death Eaters in the street, convinced they would come and kidnap the whole family while Dedalus and Hestia were away. He had formed a habit of muttering under his breath as he stood watching the street below, complaining incoherently about Death Eaters, Dedalus, Harry, and magic in general.
“Do you see anything?” Dudley asked conversationally, for one would have thought the tension in the room enough to break even the strongest Patronus.
“No, not yet,” he said gravely, as though he was more distressed while he was not in danger, “but I assure you, they will be here one day.”
“Don’t scare him,” Petunia snapped, glaring coldly at her husband.
“Hestia and Dedalus said we are fine. They can’t get to us here.”
“I don’t believe it. If we can get to this floor, so can they,” said Vernon, adamantly denying magic.
After a pause, Dudley decided to test his father’s trust of magic. “What if they see you standing in the window before you see them?”
“They can’t see me,” said Vernon defensively, for the first time turning away from the window. “Hestia and Dedalus told us that weeks ago.”
Dudley smirked at his father’s selective belief in magic before taking the game a step further. “I heard Hestia and Dedalus talking about a cloak that makes you invisible.”
The color of Vernon’s face deepened, but he dismissed the idea quickly. “That is ridiculous.”
It had been three weeks since the Death Eaters had arrived in front of the apartment in Paris. Though they had left only a few days after arriving, the grim air that took their place made everyone nervous.
Hestia and Dedalus had become very busy attending Order Meetings more often and it suddenly became necessary for both of them to attend, leaving the Dursleys alone and Vernon in a fitful state.
“What if the Death Eaters come to get us and neither of you are here to protect us?” he would complain each time they left, working himself into an awful tantrum.
But Hestia simply repeated, “they cannot get to you here,” before finding sanctuary by closing the door in his face. And this always left Vernon to wait by the window until they came home.
Vernon jumped as the lock clicked on the hall door. “It’s about ruddy time you came home!” he barked when he saw that it was Hestia and Dedalus.
“Good afternoon to you, too,” Hestia said sarcastically, dropping into the nearest armchair.
“Do you realize how long you left us here alone for?” Vernon accused.
“An hour, at most?”
“Sixty seven minutes!” Vernon stormed, working himself into a rage. “We were alone for sixty seven minutes! Do you know what can happen in sixty seven minutes?”
“I could make myself a sandwich and watch an hour program on the tele,” Dudley whispered to Dedalus, who had strategically moved out of Vernon’s line of vision.
“You two should be protecting us, not gallivanting around Who-Knows Where!”
“We had other business,” Hestia said coolly. “We’re back now, and, as far as I can tell, you’ve come to no harm.”
“Yes!” Vernon shouted, making them jump, “this time!”
“I think I’m going to miss McGonagall’s lecture on the importance of not saying the taboo,” Hestia said dryly, so only Dudley and Dedalus could hear. Vernon ranted for several more minutes as his face gradually changed from a bright red to a deep purple and he was paid no attention by anyone.
When Vernon was pleased that he had shouted enough, he announced, with heavy footfalls, that he was going to make lunch. Petunia followed him into the other room, allowing Dudley to ask about the meeting.
When Kingsley had let slip Voldemort’s name, he was nearly captured by the death eaters who apparated to him immediately afterward. Dudley knew of Kingsley’s reputation for being a great wizard, and was fascinated as Dedalus described in great detail how he was blind sighted and valiantly fought off a dozen Death Eaters before escaping into the woods.
He didn’t fail to notice Hestia chuckling at the story, though; he had learned that Dedalus’ stories were greatly exaggerated, but enjoyed them nonetheless.
When the story ended, Dudley noticed the kitchen door was cracked, and quickly shut as soon as he looked up. Knowing that if it had been his father, everyone would have known, Dudley determined to be more careful around his mum.
***
The weeks passed extremely slowly at the apartment. On September 1st, Dudley had grudgingly resolved that it was time he began his schoolwork, especially seeing as there was not much else to do. He was surprised to find that his schoolwork was much easier to concentrate on than at Smeltings, surrounded by the distractions of his friends. In a month, he was actually ahead in his schoolwork.
Hestia and Vernon had established a system of dealing with each other, which mostly involved ignoring each other, though the occasional argument was inevitable.
An especially bad one had ended in Vernon being bound by ropes for half a day, to prevent him from trying to rid the house of all of Hestia’s and Dedalus’ magical trinkets. He complained about their wands and daily use of magic and claimed it was unnatural that Hestia’s coffee cup refilled itself and Dedalus’ pocket watch spoke. When Petunia accidentally tried to sweep with Hestia’s broomstick but it flew off in the opposite direction and dragged her to the floor, he had worked himself into a formidable rage. But when Hestia had brought out her potions kit to the kitchen counter and begun brewing more Polyjuice Potion supply for the Order, Vernon had had enough.
Walking into the kitchen one day to find Hestia surrounded by a steaming cauldron, a potions book, bunches of bottles of odd-looking materials and substances, and his father fuming, Dudley stepped quietly into a corner, trying to make himself invisible.
“”could be poisoned by this madness! We”we eat in here! Unsanitary”!” Vernon stuttered, his face turning a deep purple, as he seemed to be trying to comprehend his thoughts.
“It’s just a potion I’m brewing. This will all be put away by lunchtime and then it will just need to brew. I only needed””
“What do you mean it needs to brew?” he cut her off.
“It isn’t ready yet,” Hestia explained, a bit irritated. “It needs to brew for a month before””
“You expect me to let all of this sit around here for a month! Well, let me tell you, there is no way””
“That is not your decision,” she said tersely, stirring the pot on more time with an air of finality. “This is a matter for the Order.”
Unfortunately, Vernon did not let it go, and two hours later, Dudley walked in on him peeking under the lid of the cauldron, scrunching his nose as if there was a foul smell. Noticing Dudley, he slammed the lid back down and straightened up, looking incredibly guilty, though Dudley feigned ignorance.
Several days later, Dudley had thought it had blown over, though he occasionally saw his father glancing at the cauldron resentfully, as if it had done him a personal wrong. But one morning at breakfast, just as Hestia’s coffee mug had refilled itself, Vernon leaped out of his seat and lunged across the table for the mug. Hestia, sliding her chair back to avoid the spilled coffee, yelled “Oi! What do you think you’re doing?” as Vernon ran from the room with the dripping cup, flung open the living room window, and threw it aggressively into the empty street.
“What was that for?”
“Ruddy cup”” Vernon panted, almost comically. “Always refilling… It can’t do that anymore!” he proclaimed wildly, as Hestia and Dudley stared at him with equal measures of disbelief and amusement and Petunia seemed utterly bewildered. Dedalus, doubled-over and hugging the sofa for support, seemed to be restraining himself from laughing.
Then Vernon, his face set with new determination, set off, with thundering footsteps, to the corner of the room, where stood Hestia’s and Dedalus’s broomsticks. He grabbed them violently by the handles and, seeming to think that the window would not do, strode toward the fireplace.
“Accio Brooms!” shouted Dedalus, and the brooms soared out of Vernon’s arms before he could fling them into the fiery inferno. Dedalus and Hestia each caught them in their outstretched arms.
“Are you bloody mad?” Hestia shouted. “You can’t go around throwing things in the fire! Never mind how much a broom is worth, but you couldn’t even begin to comprehend how important it is in times like these”hey, where are you going to?” she asked, following him as he turned in the hall, ignoring her angry remonstrances. “They are an invaluable means of transportation now that You-Know-Who’s taken over and just because you’re afraid of magic doesn’t mean””
Hestia stopped short as the group reached the alarming scene which met them in the kitchen. Vernon held the cauldron, as large as his stomach, between two potholders, struggling with its weight over the kitchen sink. It looked as if he were trying to pour the potion down the drain.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” shouted Hestia hastily, relieving Vernon of the weight and narrowly preventing the cauldron from dropping and spilling bubbling potion all over the kitchen floor, allowing it to land gently on the countertop. Then, when Vernon still seemed intent on trying to spoon the potion down the drain, Hestia, whose face had lost any trace of amusement, shouted, “Incarcerous!” and thick ropes shot from her wand and wound themselves around Vernon. With another flick of her wand, she directed a chair beneath Vernon, who slumped heavily into it like a tightly wrapped mummy.
“What are you thinking?” Hestia started on Vernon at once. “You must be mad, trying to throw away things that we use to fight You-Know-Who!”
“Let me go! LET ME GO!” Vernon bellowed, struggling against the ropes holding him.
“We need those brooms! Members of the Order can’t just walk into Diagon Alley and buy a broomstick these days!” Hestia barreled on, failing to notice Vernon’s utter confusion at the mention of Diagon Alley.
“And that potion is going to be used by the Order to disguise themselves against You-Know-Who!”
“But it was”” Vernon started, his face purple and swollen.
“Yes, I know,” Hestia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re worried about it getting into your dinner! What about Paris’ ruddy sewer system?” she shouted.
Vernon and Hestia went back and forth, but in the end Hestia had made it very clear that Vernon was not to attempt to throw, burn, wash down the drain, or destroy her and Dedalus’ magical objects in any other way. Then, because Vernon had tossed hers out of the window, she had added refilling charms to every one of the coffee mugs in the kitchen. From then on, Vernon never completely emptied his coffee mug.
Petunia spent her days scrubbing, bleaching, waxing, sewing, and organizing the apartment, until it began to resemble number 4 Privet Drive. She even sent Dedalus on an errand to the Muggle Hardware store, despite his protests that he had no idea what to buy. He returned several hours later boasting about the enormity of the store, having bought half of it.
He eagerly showed Petunia paintbrushes, rollers, three extremely bright paint colors, spackle, a new vacuum cleaner, an electric drill, and nails. Vernon, of course, pointed out that he needed screws and boasted that no one at Grunnings would have made that mistake. Petunia, not sure what to say, thanked him and only argued briefly when Dedalus insisted on demonstrating the proper use of a vacuum cleaner.
After spending five minutes looking for an outlet, Dedalus triumphantly turned the power switch, pointing it out to Petunia. “See here,” Dedalus instructed, as he pulled the vacuum back and forth across the dusty carpet. “It’s very simple! Look at how well it is cleaning!”
Petunia didn’t try to hide her pleasure; she had lived far too long in filth and was excited for the new clean carpets. “You can also use this long, windy thing to pick up small things,” Dedalus said after seeing how pleased she was, bending over and picking up the extension hose. “Just flip this switch here and””
Dedalus spluttered and coughed as a cloud of dust shot from the end of the hose, covering his face and forearms in the dirt they had just cleaned. Petunia instinctively ran to him with rag in hand and began cleaning his eyes, nose, and mouth, while Dedalus mumbled something like, “maybe that wasn’t the right switch”.
After Petunia had sent Dedalus to the washroom, she turned to find Vernon staring at her in disbelief.
“What?” she snapped.
“What are you two so chummy for?” he asked indignantly.
“Chums? No,” she shot back. “Do you really think I was going to let him walk through the house like that?”
***
On a dreadfully rainy morning in November, Dudley, Dedalus, and Hestia were once again seated around the breakfast table. With so many exciting and unbelievable stories swimming around in his head, Dudley had all but forgotten the Muggle world and his British History class was becoming more boring each day.
“Why is it called the Forbidden Forest?”
“Because it’s Forbidden, of course!” Dedalus said dramatically.
Dudley rolled his eyes. “I figured that much on my own. But what’s so bad about it?”
“There are a lot of stories about what is in the forest,” Hestia replied. “Things like werewolves, centaurs, Acromantulas.”
“What’s an acromantula?”
“A giant flesh-eating, talking spider,” said Hestia calmly, watching Dudley curiously out of the corner of her eye. Dudley wondered whether Hestia was trying to scare him, for she often described dangerous wizards and creatures as though she was testing Dudley.
“How can anyone be sure what’s in the forest?”
“I’ll tell you one person who knows,” Hestia started, “Hagrid knows that forest like it’s his own backyard. It is his backyard, really. He’s one of the few who can handle himself there.”
Awful memories of trying to hide a curly pig’s tail beneath his trousers came back at the mention of Hagrid’s name. Though Hestia and Dedalus were very fond of Hagrid and said that he and Harry were good friends, Dudley wasn’t able to get past the way in which they met.
“I can handle myself in there,” said Dedalus confidently.
“Really?” asked Hestia sarcastically. “This is going to be good.”
“I was only in my fourth year the first time I went in the forest; now that I have had much more magical training I would have no problem.”
“Why were you in the forest?” asked Dudley curiously. What he had learned of Dedalus’ stories is that, while highly exaggerated, they always seemed to have some basis in the truth, so it was likely that Dedalus did go into the forest but he probably wasn’t as brave or valiant as he was about to let on.
“It was on a dare,” Dedalus said, and Dudley saw that he was getting into his story-telling mode. “My friends dared me to walk into the forest until I couldn’t see the edge anymore. It doesn’t sound hard, does it? But when you are completely alone, but you hear noises all around, and as you walk further and further into the forest your wandlight seems to become dimmer, each step takes a lot longer than expected.
“I kept looking over my shoulder, hoping to see that I was far enough into the forest so that I could get back out, but it seemed like I was barely making any progress. But as I was coming up on a clearing, and I felt like I was coming close to where I could turn back, a strange darkness overwhelmed my wandlight so that it was only a small flicker. I said the charm, lumos, over and over again, hoping to get the light back, but I remained in almost complete darkness, when I heard someone behind me.”
“I’ll never know who, or what, it was that night in the forest, because just as I saw him he fired a curse straight at me and””
“What the bloody hell are you telling my son?” Vernon shouted, his large, angry figure taking up the entire doorframe.
Dudley jumped in his seat as he realized what his father had just heard, and Dedalus started making excuses and explanations to Vernon Dursley, who wasn’t hearing a single word of it.
“Petunia!”
“We were just… just telling him a story,” Dedalus said cautiously, looking for the right words.
“A story! He’ll go mad after hearing stories from you two! Telling him stories about your world and your people. My son will not be hearing that!”
Petunia walked in just as Hestia voiced in. “Your son needs to hear it. And you as well.”
Vernon was incredulous. “Why would we want to be a part of that?”
“You may not want to be a part of it,” said Hestia smartly, “but you are. You’re not in hiding for no reason. And the more you know about the situation, the safer you are, especially if anything were to go wrong.”
“You two are here for one reason: to protect us! Not for story time!”
“But Dad””
Everyone turned to Dudley, and at the intense look on his father’s face, he almost decided not to disagree at the moment.
“Hestia is right! Everything they’ve been telling me is important to know. Now I understand””
“Everything they’ve been telling you?” Vernon asked, as his face turned a deep shade of purple. Dudley had seen his dad that color many times before, but never directed towards him. “And just how much have they told you?”
“Well,” Dudley started, looking from Hestia to Dedalus, who both seemed surprised by his sudden confidence to stand up to his father. “We’ve been talking since we moved here, and they tell me stories about the war and Harry and””
“I knew there was something up with you three!” Vernon proclaimed, as if it was a major offense. “Always catching you sitting around the table, acting like it was just a coincidence!”
“We were just””
“I don’t want to know!” Vernon shouted, cutting him off. “Dudley, you’re not allowed to be alone with these two anymore”no, I want you by my side at all times!”
“Dad! That isn’t fair!”
“Well, you’ll just have to live with not fair!” Vernon shouted, before he marched off to his bedroom.
“Mum, Daddy’s being completely unreasonable,” whined Dudley, who was not used to being punished, shouted at, or disagreed with by his parents.
She didn’t answer for a moment; she seemed as if she were in some very deep thoughts. Then, she said simply, “I think you should start your homework, Duddy.”
***
Dudley went to bed upset that night, after his father watched him like a hawk all day long. He tossed and turned in bed, trying to think of ways he could convince his father that understanding magic was important, but he thought of none. He tried to think of ways to get around his father’s watchful eye, but in the small apartment, there wasn’t much else for Vernon Dursley to do but watch Dudley’s every move.
After he had been lying in bed for an hour, he heard a light knock on the door, and the creak as it opened.
“Are you awake, Dudders?” called his mum softly.
After momentarily debating whether to feign sleep, as he was in no mood to talk to either of his parents, he answered, “Yes.”
She walked over to the side of his bed and took a seat beside him. Dudley was curious about her late night visit, as this behaviour was not like her. Then, she asked, “have Dedalus and Hestia told you anything about your Aunt Lily?”
The question caught Dudley completely off-guard; this was possibly the last thing he was expecting to hear from his mum. She had also never been referred to as Aunt Lily; if she was referred to at all, it was as Harry’s mum, and always in a derogatory tone. But his mum asked about her kindly now, seeming genuinely interested.
“Not very much,” Dudley answered honestly. “They just told me how she died, protecting Harry, and that she was a very good,” Dudley halted, as the words ‘magic’, ‘witch’, and ‘wizard’ were never allowed by his parents, “witch.”
“Yes. She was,” Petunia reflected, seemingly to herself. “When we were kids,” she said, redirecting her attention to Dudley, “Lily and I were best friends. I know, it’s surprising,” she said, laughing humorlessly as Dudley’s mouth dropped.
“We weren’t very far apart in age and we got along so well. I was older than her, but I was always the one that looked up to her. She was so adventurous and free-spirited. I had to keep her in check anytime she tried to do anything too crazy.”
Dudley listened intently to everything his mum said. After Harry had begged for years about his parents and gotten no answer, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“When she was little she realized that she could do things other kids couldn’t. You probably remember Harry doing strange things before he went to Hogwarts. I told her it wasn’t right and that she shouldn’t let anyone know; truthfully it intimidated me.
“It wasn’t long before we learned that it was magic. A really dreadful neighborhood boy told her she was a witch, and even though I said she shouldn’t be around him, she started meeting him to hear stories about magic.
“I was jealous of her, because this was just another thing that Lily was better at than me. I wrote to the headmaster of the school, Professor Dumbledore, that strange man who came to our house last summer, and asked to be accepted, but he explained that I didn’t have the magical power that Lily was born with.”
“You mean, you wanted to be a witch, too?” Dudley asked, dumbfounded.
Petunia nodded. “For the rest of that summer, I wouldn’t talk to Lily, no matter how much she tried to reason with me. So, Lily went to Hogwarts, leaving me at home, growing bitterer every year. As much as I’ve tried to deny it, it was my jealousy that made me hate magic and tore Lily and I apart,” Petunia said, pulling a handkerchief out and wiping the tears that were quietly running down her face.
“It was bad enough that it destroyed mine and Lily’s relationship, but when I couldn’t accept Harry, I passed that on to you. You and Harry never had what Lily and I had, at least while we were young, because I taught you to treat Harry badly.” Petunia took Dudley’s hand, becoming very serious. “Dudley, I don’t want what your father and I have taught you about magic to influence how you think about it. If you have a chance of fixing your relationship with Harry, don’t let what we’ve taught you stop you.”
Dudley, thoroughly amazed by his mother’s words, could only nod his assent.
“And don’t let your father scare you away from the Wizarding World now. I only wish I could have changed things with Lily before it was too late.”
End Notes:
Were you expecting that? Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think of this chapter, or what's in store for upcoming ones! *points to comment box* -Kristen
Tabooed by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes:
Thanks Emily for betaing and to those who helped me out in the Excerpts thread! I am still not JK Rowling, just a humble fan. Enjoy!
When Dudley woke the following morning, Petunia gave no indication of the discussion they had had last night, greeting him as she always did. His father glared at him suspiciously over the newspaper before saying stiffly, “Good morning.”
“Morning, Dad.”
Hestia and Dedalus had left before Dudley woke up, to run an errand for the Order, though Vernon was no more lenient about letting Dudley out of his sight. In fact, he seemed tenser, as if this was a ploy to get him to let his guard down. When they returned, Vernon became especially upset by their presence”more so than usual”and was making it very obvious to everyone. Hestia wasn’t trying to get out of his way by any means, and rather seemed to be stalling in order to make him angry. Dedalus seemed to be trying to show Dudley, without words, that he was sorry about the situation.
Dudley was disappointed after Vernon had managed to get them to leave the room, because he hadn’t worked up the courage again to stand up to his dad. It had mostly been an accident before, but he wasn’t sure he could do that again. Instead, he sat awkwardly doing homework and his father stared coldly at him during every commercial. Dudley was so distracted by the current situation, he was finding it impossible to concentrate on his remedial Algebra homework.
“Dad”” Dudley started, and Vernon turned two cold, beady eyes back to him. “I know you got really upset with me yesterday, and you had good reason.” Dudley was trying to sound as sincere as possible, but he didn’t think his dad was buying it. “I was just hoping you could understand how important it is to listen to what Hestia and Dedalus have to say.” Dudley could see his father’s face reddening and felt that this was a pointless argument. “They know all about the wizards and kinds of magic we’d be facing if””
“We’re not going to face any magic!” shouted Vernon, losing his temper, “or evil wizards, or curses, or whatever other lies they’re telling you!”
“They’re not lies!”
“Yes, they are! They are, and you’ve fallen into their trap! They’ll drive you wacky, just like their lot, with those stories!” Vernon rose from his seat, and Dudley followed, towering over his father. “But I’m not going to let that happen!”
“They’re not just wacky stories! Magic is real!” Dudley pleaded, desperately hoping for his father’s change of heart.
“Stop! They’ve already gotten to you! They’ve messed with your””
Vernon stopped in mid-sentence as a blood-curdling scream tore through the apartment. Dudley ran down the hall, followed by his father, to where he heard his mum’s shrieks.
He found her in the storage closet, probably the only place left in the apartment that she hadn’t cleaned. Petunia was crouched, weeping, on the floor, her cleaning supplies strewn around her. Dudley ran over to her, but stopped short when he saw Harry. His cousin was lying on the floor beside his mum, dead.
This doesn’t make any sense, Dudley thought, both terrified and in complete denial. Harry can’t be dead; he can’t be here.
Dudley took a step closer to Harry, but all of a sudden everything changed. Harry became a dark, cloaked figure rising above him, face obscured in darkness, whose long, dead fingers groped towards his neck. Though he’d never seen one, Dudley knew from Dedalus’ description exactly what he was facing: a dementor. And he knew what would happen; the dementor was going to suck out his soul.
Images swam through Dudley’s head: a small boy with glasses and unruly hair was being bullied by larger boys in a schoolyard, Dudley leading the pack. Dudley’s parents’ were swooning over him. “I want more presents!” he shouted greedily. “Don’t kill Cedric! Mum, Dad, come and help me!” he taunted as he walked through Little Hangleton beside his cousin. Meanwhile, endless faces of small boys with black eyes or broken arms swarmed around him, weeping for their mothers, and their desperate cries joined in with Dudley’s own sing-song voice cooing about more presents and dead parents.
The images and scenes kept changing, memories from Dudley’s past which he’d only seen together like this once, memories which had changed him, made him realize what kind of person he was. Dudley cried out, unable to take it any longer. He wanted death, wanted the dementor to take his soul, for it all to be over.
Faintly, Dudley heard someone else run into the closet, rush in front of him, and shout, “Riddikulus!” The dementor instantly disappeared, and Dedalus remained, his wand held aloft, directed where the dementor had been.
“Is”is it gone?” Dudley stuttered, once he regained control of himself.
“Yeah,” said Dedalus, “just don’t open this cabinet again or it will get out.”
“The dementor is in there?” Dudley asked, warily looking at the cabinet Dedalus had indicated.
“Oh, no!” Dedalus said, amused, “that wasn’t a dementor! That was a boggart, a creature that takes the form of the thing you fear the most. It won’t harm you as long as it stays in this cabinet,” he explained, tapping it lightly.
“Oh,” said Dudley, trying to make sense of everything he’d seen. “Then Harry wasn’t”” He stopped, seeing the warning look his mum shot him. Harry’s death was his mum’s greatest fear?
“Harry wasn’t what?” asked Hestia, who was standing by the door.
“Never mind,” he muttered.
“Never mind, nothing!” Vernon shouted, and Dudley was worried he had also realized what his mum’s greatest fear was. “Something just attacked my wife and son and you two say never mind!”
“I was the one who said”” Dudley started, realizing his dad was only trying to pick a fight.
“You two have been causing more trouble for us than you’ve prevented!”
“Boggarts aren’t harmful creatures. They just like to hide in dark places””
“I don’t bloody care where they like to hide!” Vernon shouted. “I want them gone! They’re not right”not right at all!”
“Just because you don’t understand them doesn’t mean they don’t belong,” Dudley said.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Yes I do, Dad!”
“Would you listen to your son for once?” Hestia asked.
“This is all your fault! You two brainwashed him to think””
“Us? We brainwashed him?” Hestia scoffed. “What about you and your wife, always teaching him how awful magic is, making him hate Harry just because””
“It’s not us! We’ve taught him everything he needs to know, none of the mumbo jumbo you’re putting into his head!”
“Dad””
“This is stuff he needs to know! We are in a war, and your family”and your nephew”are right in the center of it!”
“I don’t care! I don’t want to know!” Vernon shouted stubbornly, his large purple face contorted with rage.
“You need to stop denying that magic exists when it’s right in front of you!” Hestia said desperately. “You can’t just wish it away!”
“Vernon, we should listen,” said Petunia tentatively, rising from the floor.
He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe that this was his wife. “What did you do to her?” he shouted, turning to face Hestia, only to find that she looked equally shocked.
“Nothing, Vernon,” said Petunia. “I just think Dudley is right; we need to know what is happening. If there was a war in our world, we’d want to know””
“We’re not in our world!”
“Would you just listen?” Hestia shouted. “Everyone knows it; your son, your wife, all realize how important this is!”
“No! I won’t””
“Dad, just listen!
“You could be facing things you don’t understand! Things much worse than boggarts and doxies: there could be Death Eaters, vampires, dark magic, even Voldemort””
Hestia stopped, her eyes bulging in horror, as she realized what she’d just said. Simultaneously, several loud cracks sounded from the front door.
“What was that?” Petunia asked, her face white with fear.
The front door was blasted violently off its hinges with a loud boom, as Hestia shoved Vernon roughly into the closet and she and Dedalus raised their wands.
Spells flew from both ends of the hall, in violent flashes of red and green, as a half dozen Snatchers and Death Eaters forced their way through the door.
“Stay in there!” Hestia shouted, as Dudley tried to peer around the corner at their attackers.
“What is going on?” Petunia shrieked, pulling Dudley back into the closet.
“I thought we were protected here,” Vernon complained. “I knew they were lying about””
“It’s the taboo,” Dudley explained. “It breaks all magical enchantments.”
“What does what?”
“I bet you wished you’d listened to Hestia and Dedalus now,” Dudley snapped. “Then you might have a clue what was going on!”
“We’re going to get out of here, guys!” Hestia shouted from the hall. “Be ready to Apparate!”
“Three…two…one!”
On Dedalus’ mark, Hestia and Dedalus aimed their wands at the ceiling directly above the oncoming Death Eaters’ heads and shouted, “Confringo!” The whole building shook as the ceiling came down overhead, giving them just enough time to escape into the storage closet. They took the Dursleys by the arms and instantly spun away into a crushing darkness.
They arrived in an alley, where Dudley barely had time to catch his breath before Hestia yanked him into a side door.
The pitch blackness of this building threw him off. There were no lights and the only windows were boarded up. Hestia and Dedalus both whispered, ”Lumos!” and their wands cast a dim light over the room.
It was larger than Dudley had expected, a storeroom of some kind. Shelves lined the walls and created several aisles in the center of the room, stacked with various boxes and gadgets.
Dedalus whispered, “Homenum Revelio!” Nothing seemed to have happened, but he said, “It’s safe,” and led them to a door on the opposite side of the room. The shelves were labeled with names such as ‘Decoy Detonators,’ ‘Nosebleed Nougat,’ and ‘Shield Hats’, but Dudley hadn’t a clue what these were.
He unhooked the latch on a basket containing the decoy detonators and, at once, the lifeless things jumped into action. He leaped back as they started scurrying around the basket, some climbing out or rolling off the shelves. They looked almost like wind-up cat toys, the way they ran around, but there was no place to wind them up.
“Dudley,” Hestia whispered, “what are you doing?”
“It was an accident!” he lied.
Petunia screamed and clung to Vernon as one of the more adventurous detonators ran in her direction, though Vernon looked just as frightened as she. Then, a thundering crash and a cloud of smoke came from the opposite side of the room, and everyone but Dedalus covered their ears and dropped to the floor.
“What are you all so jumpy for!” he joked. “It’s just a decoy!”
“WHAT?” Vernon bellowed, not amused by Dedalus’ joking tone.
“A decoy detonator, very handy,” he said, picking up another which was still trying to run away. “When you need a distraction, you just set one of these aside, and let it do its thing. Something over there blows up, while you’re still over here, doing whatever it is you need to be doing!”
“Brilliant!” Dudley said. Vernon was not amused.
“Anyway, we should get going,” said Dedalus, tossing the Detonator into the bin and placing the latch back on, causing them to stop moving instantly.
They had just reached the door and started up a flight of stairs, when they heard an explosion from downstairs. “I suppose one never made it back into the basket,” Dedalus joked.
The stairs wound to a small flat, which felt a lot like the storeroom, piled high with boxes. Hestia and Dedalus quickly set to work placing protective charms around the flat.
Vernon stumbled through many piles of boxes before finding an armchair squeezed between several stacks. He fell heavily back into it and Petunia perched herself on the armrest beside him.
“What happened?” he asked when Hestia and Dedalus had rejoined them, craning his neck around to try to find them among the clutter.
“The Death Eaters found us,” said Dedalus, tiptoeing around whose fault it was. “When we said the taboo, the enchantments protecting us were broken and they were able to find us.”
“What taboo?”
“You-Know-Who’s name,” said Hestia. “I said it, I forgot,” she sighed, obviously frustrated with herself.
“It’s alright”” said Dudley.
“What about our stuff?” asked Vernon.
“We can’t go back there again.”
“But all of our””
“Dad, they were going to kill us.”
Vernon looked cross for a moment, then seemed to forget the matter for the moment. “Where are we now?” he grunted.
“Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. It’s a safe house offered by some members of the Order to anyone who needs it.”
“Weasley?” Dudley racked his brain. “Is that Harry’s friend?”
“The Weasleys?” Vernon recognized the name too. “That man is a nut.”
“That man is a very important member of the Order,” Hestia said coldly. “And, yes,” she said, directing her attention to Dudley, “you’re thinking of the right Weasleys. The shop is run by two of Ron’s older brothers.”
“What kind of shop?”
“It’s a joke shop,” Hestia explained. “Fred and George are known for being pranksters, and now they’ve put that to good use.”
“This is all very nice,” Vernon said sarcastically, “but I’d like to know what we are doing here!”
“Now you’re interested in what is going on, is that it?” asked Hestia sardonically.
“Why don’t we all just settle down,” said Dedalus, always the peacemaker. “We can work this out in the morning. Let’s just go to bed now.” Everyone agreed, and Dedalus offered the two bedrooms to Vernon, Petunia, and Hestia. At first, Vernon had insisted that Dudley sleep in the bedroom with he and Petunia, away from Dedalus, only to find that the bedroom was even more crowded than the living area.
Dedalus conjured two cots for he and Dudley, though it proved a challenge to find a place for them in the crowded space. Dedalus moved several boxes from the living room to make room for his, while Dudley squeezed himself between the countertops in the kitchen.
As he lay awake, Dudley relived the events of this evening. Dudley had faced the real terror of the war for the first time, not through a story, but in real life. The cozy lifestyle they’d taken for granted while in Paris was now over. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, a loud explosion from downstairs startled him. He laughed though when he realized what it was.
End Notes:
The action shifted A LOT in this chapter! Let me know what you think!
A Weasley Welcome by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes:
Sorry, it's been forever. Enjoy!
CRASH!
Dudley awoke to the sounds of movement downstairs. He heard boxes being moved around and knocked over as whispers floated up the staircase.
The chaos of the previous night and the unfamiliarity of the small flat was terrifying Dudley. He, his family, and Hestia and Dedalus had fled from the Death Eaters at their cozy apartment in Paris to this messy flat in Merlin-knows-where.
It’s just a dream, Dudley though, as if the harder he thought about it, the more likely it would become true. I am going to open my eyes and be in my room in Paris.
BOOM!
Dudley’s eyes snapped open in shock. To his dismay, he found himself on an old cot which was squeezed between two unfamiliar countertops. Dudley was not still in his room in Paris, and the sounds of footsteps as they wound up the stairs were drawing closer. He tried to call Dedalus, but found his lips could not form the words.
The door to the flat opened, and Dudley, cowering under his blanket, waited for them, whoever they were, to find him among the piles of boxes.
“Oi! Good morning, sleepy head!” someone said, standing directly over his cot. But Dudley remained frozen; he was too terrified to face this man.
“Who’d you find?” someone shouted from across the room.
“It’s just some freeloader sleeping in the kitchen.”
“There’s a box of portable bed bugs over here, if you’d like to wake him,” said the other, laughing.
Dudley felt a strong hand on his shoulder, which forced him over. He stared up at the bright-haired boy, not much older than he, and realized it was one of the Weasleys.
“Look here, George” exclaimed the boy, “he’s gotten even bigger!”
“I don’t suppose you remember us,” said George, who was identical to the other.
“Yeah,” Dudley said sheepishly, rising from the cot, “I do.”
“Well, how about that, Fred? We’re memorable!”
“Of course we are,” said Fred, suddenly looking cross. “Just what is it that made you remember us?”
“Er…” Dudley started, wondering if Fred was asking this simply to make him look like an idiot. “You gave me candy that made my tongue swell up like an elephant.”
“Correct!” exclaimed George. “You were our very first test subject for Ton-Tongue Toffee!”
“Aside from ourselves, of course.”
George must have noticed that Dudley was looking at them questioningly. “Fred just had to ask you a security question, to make sure you’re Harry’s cousin, and not some Death Eater on a Polyjuice Potion.”
“Reliving the tongue story was only an added benefit,” said Fred, grinning broadly.
“So what brought you here?” asked George.
Dudley was relieved to have a subject change. He told them about what happened last night and how they were brought here, starting with the Boggart and finishing with their Apparition to the flat. Dedalus awoke while Dudley was telling the story and seemed as interested in hearing the details as if he hadn’t been there.
Hestia came out of her bedroom just as he was finishing. She said, “Good morning” and made tea as everyone struggled to find a place to sit, perching awkwardly on the edges of boxes and countertops. As soon as she had finished her cup of tea, Hestia got down to business.
“What does the Order know about last night?” Hestia asked.
“Dudley told us the whole story,” said Fred.
“But the rest of the Order only knows what was in the Prophet.”
“Which was?” prompted Hestia.
“That an unknown rogue pair of witch and wizard with Muggle accomplices destroyed a historical building and injured Ministry Officials,” said Fred.
“They mentioned nothing about it being a historical Muggle building, though,” noted George.
“Or that it was in France and they had no jurisdiction there,” said Hestia.
“Plus, I’m assuming those were Snatchers that attacked you, and not Ministry Officials.”
“Not that there is a huge difference any longer,” said Fred sarcastically.
“Oh, they flatter us,” Dedalus said as he scanned the article in the Prophet. “The charm we used was nowhere near powerful enough to destroy a seven-story building.”
“Just a little drywall and it will be as good as new,” Hestia joked.
“Wait, do you mean…” Fred started, taking a dramatic pause, “the Prophet… lied?”
“No! They would never do that!” George joked.
“Hey, George, do you think we should report these two to the Ministry?”
“For the safety of the public, it would probably be best!”
The twins pulled out their wands and directed them at Hestia and Dedalus. “Come on, kids. It’s time you two were put away for all your mischief,” said Fred.
Hestia rolled her eyes and played along, while Dedalus was laughing so gaily he might have been a five year old. Dudley thought Fred and George were hilarious; in the Muggle world, they would probably have their own reality show, he thought.
“Drop the tea and put your hands in the air and no one will get hurt!”
“Let’s go, don’t try to fight or you’ll only””
The fun was interrupted by an unpleasant grunt that came from Vernon and Petunia’s bedroom.
“Blimey, I almost forgot they were here,” said Dedalus.
“How?” scoffed Hestia.
After a pause, when no one spoke, Fred shouted, “Edgar!” and put away his wand.
There was another pause, and George also shouted “Edgar!”
“Er…my dad’s name is Vernon.”
The twins gave Dudley a strange look, but again shouted, “Edgar!”
Dudley was thoroughly confused, and asked, “Who is Edgar?”
“You don’t know Edgar Strougler?” Dudley shook his head.
“It’s a game to find someone.”
“For example,” said Fred, “if I need to find George, I shout ‘Edgar’.”
“And I shout Strougler,” said George.
“So it’s like Marco Polo?” asked Dudley.
“Who?” asked the twins together.
“Er… never mind.”
The bedroom door creaked open and slammed shut, as Vernon shouted, “Who the bloody hell is Edgar?”
“Edgar Strougler, he invented the Sneak-o-Skope in”” Fred started.
“Don’t even bother,” Hestia interrupted.
Vernon came stomping around the corner, followed by Petunia, causing several avalanches of boxes along the way. Dudley thought he heard one of them explode as it hit the ground.
“Who are they?” he grumbled.
“You don’t remember us?” Fred asked.
“Well, I’m offended.”
Vernon narrowed his eyes at them. “I remember a lot of red heads of your lot,” noticing that George still had his wand out.
“No problem. I’m sure we can remind you,” Fred exclaimed as George searched through a box and pulled out a small basket labeled ‘Puking Pasties’.
George scattered several on the floor and said dramatically, “oops! I just dropped some of my favorite candy!”
From the unamused look on his face, Dudley could tell that his father remembered them now.
“Oh well, we must be going home now,” said Fred, and they both wandered away to where Dudley assumed the fireplace was.
Dudley weighed the costs and benefits of playing along with the twins’ act. On one hand, he’d like to prove that he isn’t Harry’s clueless cousin anymore. On the other hand, his dad’s face was already turning a dangerous color of purple. His mum was giving him a piercing look, which Dudley took to mean, ‘don’t test your father’.
“Then I started eating the candy,” Dudley said meekly, not quite brave enough to look his dad in the eye.
“And then his tongue swelled up and all hell broke loose,” said one of the twins as they came back from behind the boxes. When they walked away, Dudley had lost track of who was who.
“Unfortunately we weren’t there to witness that little event,” said the other twin. “But from dad’s description, we knew we were ready to start marketing our product.”
“You know, Dudley, it would have been much more dramatic if you had pretended to eat the candies.”
“And even more so if you actually had eaten the candies!”
“I’m not falling for that one again!” Dudley exclaimed.
“Anyhow,” said Fred, “I am Fred and this is George.” He stretched out his hand to Vernon.
“What are you two doing here?” asked Vernon rudely, ignoring Fred’s hand.
“This is our flat and our store downstairs. We read about what happened in Paris and thought you might have come here,” explained George.
“We had to pick up some items for an order, anyway.”
“How long do we have to stay here?” Vernon spat out the word as if it caused him physical pain.
“The Order is finding you a new place to stay; we’re not sure yet.”
“In the meantime, how would you like a tour of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes?”
Dedalus came for the tour of the store, and so did Vernon, likely so he could keep an eye on Dudley. Fred and George’s store was much less intimidating during the daytime than it had been on the previous night. Dudley was amazed by all of the magical gadgets and tricks the twins showed him. There were quills that would “shush” anytime a Professor came near, candies that exploded the moment they touched your tongue, and miniature broomsticks for toddlers. Potions of all kinds littered the shelves, from those that made someone fall in love with you to others that made the drinker do the chicken dance. Dudley lingered a while in the defense section, and the twins gave him a free Shield Hat, though they warned him that it wouldn’t protect him from a powerful curse.
“This is such a cool store,” Dudley exclaimed, several times, to the twins’ delight and his father’s annoyance. “It’s too bad it’s closed, though.”
“Actually, business has never been better!” Fred said.
“Our Floo Order business has become very popular,” George said. “Everyone is especially crazy about our Dark-Repelling products.”
“We came in today to pick up some products for an order,” Fred explained. As enthralled as he was with the store, Dudley hadn’t noticed that Fred and George were both holding bags full of their own products. George also had a list in his hand and was checking off items.
“Are the garlic necklaces in the front?” asked George, looking up from the list.
“Yeah, they’re on the front display,” said Fred. “Do you want to see the store?” he asked Dudley.
“Isn’t this the store?” asked Dudley, slightly confused.
“No, this is just the storage room,” said Fred. The twins walked through a discreet curtain that Dudley hadn’t noticed before. Dedalus shrugged and followed. Realizing that he was left with only his dad and a thick blanket of tension, Dudley shuffled quickly through the curtain.
The store was very lively, with colorful displays covering the walls. Dudley felt like a kid in a candy shop “ which is saying something for Dudley “ and ran forward to get a better look at a large display of Dark-Repelling medallions.
However, in the window behind the display was a large, cloaked figure, whose face was hidden behind a dark hood. Dudley froze in place when the man walked slowly past the shop window, afraid that he might see him if he moved. For a moment, Dudley thought it was a dementor, though he knew he couldn’t see them.
Once he had deduced that it wasn’t a dementor, Dudley was still nervous about a dark hooded man walking just outside of the shop. Given the Weasleys’ involvement in the fight against Voldemort, Dudley didn’t think it was in his best interest to be seen with them.
“Is it safe to be in here?” he asked shakily.
“Of course it is,” Fred said casually. Then, seeing how anxiously Dudley was looking out of the window, he said, “Don’t worry, they can’t see us.”
“How?” asked Dudley, sighing in relief.
“There’s a charm on the window.”
“It’s very ingenious,” George said proudly, “took us forever to get it right.”
“Even though we’re in here, all they can see is the store.”
“That doesn’t sound ingenious,” Vernon grumbled.
“It looks deserted,” Fred continued. “The dust even builds up as time goes on.”
“The place looks ransacked, too,” said George, “shelves turned over and the displays broken.”
“We even threw a couple dirty words in graffiti on the back wall,” said Fred pompously.
“We figured it would discourage vandals from breaking in if they thought someone had beaten them to it.”
Dudley was impressed and felt much safer. He didn’t even jump when a silver weasel flew into the room and announced, “Hestia and Dedalus will be taking the Dursleys to East Lancashire to stay with Augusta Longbottom.”
As soon as the weasel disappeared, Fred and George fell to the floor, rolling with laughter. “Why are you two laughing?” asked Dudley, now slightly more nervous. He had come to learn that he was not always comfortable with the things the twins found funny.
“No reason,” Fred said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
“Yes, you’ll have a wonderful time at Granny Longbottom’s house,” George exclaimed. Dudley could sense that this would be an interesting stay.
End Notes:
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
The Wall of Questions by Ghoul In Pajamas
“I don’t understand why we have to stay with this woman,” Vernon grumbled.
He and Hestia had been engaged in this argument for the last twenty minutes and a small audience watched curiously. Fred and George, who had never seen these two interact before, were highly amused. They even found a few Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pasties to snack on, as if at they were at the cinema. They offered some of the strange sweets to Dudley, who was excited to try wizard candy that didn’t make his tongue swell.
“We are not staying with some crazy old woman from East Lancashire! Northerners are bad enough, even when they don’t meddle with your lot!”
“Ms. Longbottom’s is one of the few places we will be safe. Her family has been fighting against You-Know-Who since the beginning.”
“That will just lead them to us sooner!” Vernon exclaimed. “We’d be better off staying with Aunt Marge; she isn’t involved in any of this crazy stuff!”
“I don’t know who the hell Aunt Marge is, but you will not be safer there. The Longbottom’s house has had charms and enchantments protecting it for over two decades, and the Death Eaters don’t know where it is to begin with. You three are lucky to be staying there; I’m surprised the Order isn’t hiding someone more important there.”
Vernon ignored Hestia’s comment; Dudley guessed that he didn’t care who she considered important. “I know what this is. Your lot is just trying to gang up on my family!” Vernon concluded wildly. “First, you try and get my son on your side…”
“Oi, we’re back to this?” Hestia murmured.
“…And now you’re bringing a third one from your lot!”
As the fight became more intense, Fred and George had taken bets on the outcome. Fred put ten Galleons on Vernon folding because Hestia scared him, while George thought that Hestia would eventually put him in a leg-locker curse and drag him to the Longbottom’s.
“Oh, will you deflate your head to a normal size?” Though Hestia was speaking metaphorically, Vernon’s head looked quite a bit larger than usual. “If we wanted to gang up on your family, it wouldn’t take three adult wizards and witches to do it. Any delinquent third year could take over all of Privet Drive if he wanted to.”
“So you admit it!”
“Admit what? Merlin, your skull is thick! This is not some plot to take over your family, corrupt your son, or whatever else your brain warps it into. We are protecting you!”
“But…you…” Vernon stammered angrily.
“We have had this fight at least a dozen times before; can we please just skip to the part where you give in and resort to grumbling about it for a few days?”
“Dad, can we just go? They’ve given us no reason not to trust them,” Dudley said. He was getting tired of his dad’s stubbornness. Missing breakfast and having to sit on cardboard boxes that folded under his weight was making him anxious to leave.
Vernon was silent for a moment, his face red with rage. He turned toward Dudley slowly, with an anger bubbling inside him that Dudley had never seen before, not even directed towards Harry or Hestia. “No reason?” he said finally. He approached Dudley menacingly, and Hestia fingered her wand. George noticed this and pointed it out to Fred, thinking he would win the bet. “They didn’t need to give us a reason! Their kind has been giving us more than enough reason for years!”
“That’s not true,” Dudley said stubbornly, rising from the boxes to meet his father’s eyes, surprised by his own courage. “When have they ever done anything to hurt us?”
“They’ve…they ran us out of our own house with letters, and then sent a dangerous man after us!”
“Only because you wouldn’t let Harry read them,” Dudley said. Or me, he thought bitterly.
“Harry blew up your Aunt Marge!”
“She deserved that! She wouldn’t stop speaking ill of his mum and dad, and you encouraged her! Anyhow, the Ministry of Magic solved it. They got her down and she doesn’t even remember it happened!”
“What about when they blew up our living room?” asked Vernon, motioning towards the twins, who stood up and each took a low bow. “And grew your tongue to ten times the size?”
“It was an accident,” Dudley said. “Well, the living room was, anyway. And have you forgotten that I blew up the living room with my toy rocket set two years ago? I didn’t even get in trouble for that!”
Vernon was utterly dumbfounded. “Are you really going to side with them?” he asked quietly.
“It’s not about sides, dad,” Dudley explained. “It’s not wizards versus Muggles. It’s the good wizards against the Dark wizards. Harry and Hestia and Dedalus and the Weasleys are protecting us; they’re some of the good wizards and you need to start trusting them.”
When Vernon didn’t respond, Hestia said, “I’ll make us a quick lunch and then we’ll be going.” Petunia followed her into the kitchen to help.
“That wasn’t the ending I was expecting,” said George, as if reviewing a movie.
“He folded, cough up the Galleons,” said Fred, holding his hand out greedily.
“He folded to Dudley; you said Hestia.”
“Fair enough,” Fred admitted, withdrawing his hand. “I always enjoy a surprise ending, though.”
“Glad to amuse you,” Dudley joked.
“You know, you’re not nearly as bad as Harry makes you sound,” said Fred.
“We were expecting a wizard-hating bully, to be honest,” said George.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Dudley admitted. “This is sort of a new thing.”
“Well, it certainly seems like an improvement from a few years ago.”
“We had better be going now,” said George, shaking Dudley’s hand. “It was nice meeting you!”
“Good luck,” said Fred, also shaking Dudley’s hand. “Hopefully we’ll run into each other again!”
“I hope so,” said Dudley. “Thanks for all of the magic stuff!”
“I almost forgot,” said George, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few colorfully wrapped candies. “Take some of these!”
Dudley looked at him questioningly, but took the candy.
“You never know when throwing up or coughing blood might come in handy!”
“Nice seeing you again, Mr. Dursley,” shouted Fred as they left.
“Likewise,” said George, “and good luck overcoming that paranoia problem!”
Vernon shot the twins one last angry look before they turned down the stairs.
...
They ate a quick lunch of peanut butter sandwiches, everyone crowded around the cluttered kitchen counter. It didn’t take long to prepare to leave, as none of them had their trunks. At two o’clock, they left Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and Dudley prepared for their Side-Along Apparation.
They arrived on a sunny hillside, looking over a flowered valley. Dudley took his first breath of fresh air in months. He’d been stuck in the stuffy apartment in Paris for so long that he’d almost forgotten how the sun and the wind felt, and the cluttered Weasley flat was hardly better.
“Let’s go,” Dedalus whispered, “we should get inside.”
They followed Dedalus to the top of the hill, where a tall house looked out over the rolling valleys and distant mountains. It looked over two centuries and was at least four times as tall as it was wide. A short picket fence surrounded the house and garden and, as Dudley pushed the door open, he felt a sharp jolt of energy run through his body.
They filed quickly up the steep porch steps, where Dedalus stopped to read a note pinned to the door. Dudley read it over his shoulder.
Dedalus,
I am sorry I’m not here to greet you. I had to leave urgently, I’ll explain why later. Producing your Patronus will allow you into the house. It will re-seal after two wizards have passed, so get the Muggles in first.
Augusta Longbottom
Her name was signed at the bottom in big, loopy writing.
“I’m surprised she’s not here,” remarked Hestia. “I doubt the Order would have sent her to do something.”
“Two years ago, definitely not,” said Dedalus. “But we’re desperate.”
Dedalus drew his wand, pointed it toward the door, and said, “Expecto Patronum.”
From his wand leapt a silver Labrador. The puppy chased its tail playfully in the air before dancing through the keyhole. The lock clicked and the door swung open.
“You three go first,” Dedalus said, waving to the open doorway.
Dudley entered the dark foyer, followed warily by his parents. He felt along the wall for a light switch but couldn’t find one. After stumbling over what he thought was a large box, Dudley decided to let someone else find the lights.
Hestia walked into the house behind the Dursleys. Immediately after her, the door slammed shut, leaving them in pitch blackness.
“Bloody hell!” bellowed Vernon, surprised by the door slam and the sudden darkness.
A bright glow suddenly came from where Hestia had lit her wand. Dudley looked around the dimly lit room. His parents were standing close by him and Hestia was beside the door, but Dedalus was nowhere in sight.
“Where is Dedalus?” asked Dudley.
“Outside,” said Hestia, “the door closed after me.”
“But the note said after two””
“I know,” said Hestia. “It shouldn’t have closed so soon.”
Suddenly, the silver Labrador leaped into the room and spoke in Dedalus’ cheery voice. “Something must have gone wrong with the enchantment. I won’t be able to get in until Augusta returns. Send me a message so I know everything is okay inside.”
Hestia said, “Expecto Patronum,” and a silver, spotted Raven burst from her wand and flew through the solid wall. “This is great,” she sighed.
“I knew we shouldn’t have come here,” said Vernon. “We’re barely in the door and already something’s gone wrong.”
“Well, at least you got your wish,” Hestia retorted sarcastically. “Now, it’s three of you against only one of me!”
“Where are the light switches?” asked Dudley, now scanning the walls.
“Light switches?” asked Hestia curiously. “Oh, you mean those funny buttons in the apartment? Those are Muggle things. You won’t find any of those in a witch or wizard’s house, especially not one belonging to an old Wizarding family like the Longbottoms.”
Vernon grunted his disapproval.
Hestia lit two lanterns in the foyer and then opened the windows in the sitting room, allowing light to flood into the room. Dudley saw that the large box he’d tripped over was actually his own trunk. All five trunks that had been left at the apartment in Paris were piled in the foyer.
“How did our trunks get here?” asked Dudley.
“The Order recovered them from the apartment when they went there to investigate and sent them here,” said Hestia.
“Great,” said Dudley, looking forward to changing his clothes. He had been wearing these for two days, and they still had bits of drywall on them from when the ceiling collapsed.
Now that he could see, Dudley looked at the house. It was much larger than it seemed from the outside. The foyer had a door on each of its four walls. The door on the right led into the sitting room and the dining room was through the door on the left. Behind them was the front door and, ahead of them, there was a short hallway which had a staircase on the left and a door to the kitchen. There was also a back door with a small window looking onto the garden behind the house.
The furniture was all very old”in fact, some of it looked as old as the house. It was very well cared for, though. Though the hardwood floors were worn, they were free of dirt or grime. The cushions on the couches and chairs, however faded, had no marks, stains, or rips.
Dudley wondered if she entertained often, because the small sitting room was packed with more couches and chairs of all different sizes, shapes, and colors than it was meant to hold. The dining room held a large table surrounded by chairs whose cushions matched the largest couch.
The walls of both rooms and the small hallway were covered with various paintings and photos, in old, chipped frames, from famous old witches and wizards to family photographs. A small round-faced boy stared out of many of the photographs, at Blackpool Pier, in front of a scarlet steam engine, and holding a”was that a toad? There were also strange sculptures pinned to the wall and set on the many end tables around the couches and chairs. There didn’t seem to be much of a theme, except possibly chaos.
“Dudders, we’re going upstairs to unpack our things,” said Petunia from the foot of the stairs. Hestia and his father were gone, and so were the trunks.
Dudley barely fit through the narrow stairway. He followed his mum up the first flight, where two doors led off from a short hallway. One of the doors had a note pinned to it that said, ‘Dedalus,’ and his trunk was set outside of it. They walked up one more flight, to another hallway with two doors, but both of these were open.
Hestia walked down from, yet another, flight of stairs. “Your rooms in the attic, Dudley,” she said, pointing at the ceiling. “I left your trunk up there. Petunia, you and Vernon are right here.” She indicated the open door on the left.
As Dudley climbed the third flight of stairs, he was out of breath. His trunk sat outside of the only door on this floor; a note pinned to the door said, in large, loopy letters, ‘The Boy’.
He grabbed his trunk and pushed on the door, but it didn’t move. He shook the handle and pushed a little harder, and harder, then harder still, until he was heaving all of his weight, which was a lot, into the door.
“How the bloody hell am I supposed to get inside?” Dudley asked aloud. He suddenly realized how much he longed to take a short nap on a real bed”the cot from the previous night had left an annoying knot in Dudley’s back.
“Abra Kadabra!” he shouted stupidly. “Open Sesame!” Of course, this didn’t work.
“Please, let me inside,” Dudley pleaded, recognizing how ridiculous it was to be talking to a doorknob. He banged on the door several times, hoping it would magically open. He considered asking Hestia but was too embarrassed.
Eventually, he reverted back to pleading with the doorknob. For fifteen minutes, he said things like, “Please open,” and “I really just want to take a nap.” Then, when he thought the doorknob might be some Magical Anti-Theft System, he promised he wouldn’t steal anything.
Finally, he started to get mad at it. “Stupid doorknob!” he shouted. “What makes you think you can keep me out!” He gripped the knob tightly and said, “I’m much stronger than some dumb piece of metal!” And before he’d even begun to push, the door gave way.
“It’s about time,” Dudley said to himself.
Based on the way the rest of the house was decorated, this room was not what Dudley expected. It was tall in the center, with a sloping roof that came very close to the floor on one side. The walls were painted a dark scarlet shade and gold curtains adorned a large window on the tallest wall, which looked out over the valley they had Apparated into.
The furniture looked new, as did the bedspread, which was also scarlet. Next to the door was a tall bookshelf, piled with books of all sizes, shapes, and conditions, with titles like Magical Plants of Eastern Britain and The Healing Power of Herbs. In fact, as Dudley scanned the books, he saw that four full shelves were dedicated to books dealing with plants. The two bottommost shelves covered many different subjects, from A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch to Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart to Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard. Dudley was interested in the Defense books and, surprising even himself, decided to have a look at those later.
The scarlet paint was barely visible on the largest wall. It had been completely covered by various newspaper clippings, notes, pictures, and even random junk like gum wrappers. Dudley read the first newspaper article that caught his eye, titled Sirius Black is Innocent. The name sounded familiar, but the picture of a young black-haired boy laughing was much different from the video Dudley had seen years ago on the news, of a pale, thin man, laughing maniacally in front of the camera.
Sirius Black, previously charged with the murder of Peter Pettigrew and many Muggles, has been declared innocent. New evidence that surfaced three months after Black’s death proving that Pettigrew is in fact still alive and framed Black for the Muggles’ deaths. There is also substantial evidence that Pettigrew is in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the Ministry is launching a full investigation into Pettigrew’s whereabouts.
Sirius Black was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange, his cousin and convicted Death Eater, on the night the Department of Mysteries was broken into. Involved parties, including Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was previously in charge of the search for Black, will not comment on what happened at the Department of Mysteries that night. They will only tell us that Black was fighting against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and was protecting Harry Potter and several other Hogwarts students.
Dudley’s mind was swimming with questions, about Harry, Sirius Black, Voldemort, and whatever the Department of Mysteries was. He was curious to learn more and began reading many of the articles on the wall, his plan to take a nap completely forgotten.
He read Mass Break Out From Azkaban and What the Ministry Should Have Told Us. He soon realized that these were merely confusing him. The articles were placed on the wall in no particular order and Dudley thought they would make more sense in chronological order.
He rummaged through several drawers of the desk, until he had a roll of parchment, ink, and a quill. He’d never used a quill before, so the first few lines were illegible, even to him. He quickly got the hang of it and took notes of the articles, writing the date in the left column and the title on the right.
An hour later, he had used over four feet of parchment and put everything in chronological order. He turned back to the wall and began reading, starting with the very first article, Bellatrix Lestrange sent to Azkaban. He tried to recall who Bellatrix Lestrange was, knowing he’d read about her, but all of the names seemed jumbled inside his head. The picture that accompanied the article had been covered by a photograph, so Dudley lifted edge of the photograph, to see a pale, black-haired woman, smirking at the camera. She gave Dudley the chills and he quickly covered her up again.
The article said that she was sentenced to life in Azkaban prison for the torture of aurors, Frank and Alice Longbottom. Dudley racked his brain again”Longbottom, he knew he had heard that name somewhere, too. However, like the Lestrange, he couldn’t place it.
He read Harry Potter Attends Hogwarts, from September 1991, which said that Harry had just started the school, after being raised by Muggles. Dumbledore taken out of post as Hogwarts Headmaster, dated 1992, said that, in light of the recent attacks on school students after the rumoured opening of the Chamber of Secrets, Dumbledore had been taken away. The writer, however, thought that it was a terrible idea, writing ‘now that Dumbledore is away, the attacks will double’. Dudley didn’t know what this meant, and an article from later in the year only confused him more. It said that Dumbledore had returned to the school and the perpetrator of the crimes had been caught. The Chamber of Secrets had been discovered by none other than Harry Potter, and the monster was killed.
Dudley wondered what the Chamber of Secrets was, and made a note of it on his roll of parchment. That, along with Bellatrix Lestrange and the Longbottoms, were things he meant to ask Dedalus when he returned.
Dudley read through the years; the 93-94 school year was consumed with articles about Sirius Black. These held pictures of the screaming man Dudley remembered and a lot more information than he knew back then. The Muggle television, of course, hadn’t gone into details or mentioned that he was a wizard. Dudley read that Sirius Black had been secretly working for Voldemort, passing him information about his friends. The newspapers speculated that he had escaped to go after Harry, for revenge on his fallen master.
One article, titled Dementors at Hogwarts caught Dudley’s attention. It said that Hogwarts was being guarded by the dementors of Azkaban, in search of Black. Dudley shuddered, and thought that would have been a miserable year.
The first article of late 1994 was about the Triwizard Tournament. Somehow four wizards had been chosen, both Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter from Hogwarts, though each school only gets one champion. A quote from Barty Crouch claimed, ‘There is nothing we can do. The rules are final, and once the champions are chosen, it cannot be changed.’ The article told about the Triwizard Tournament, giving all the gruesome details of past challenges, making Dudley question why anyone would willingly join the competition.
There were reports of Harry’s success in the first leg of the competition, getting past a dragon using his broomstick. The next article said that they had to search underwater for their loved ones during the second competition. Though he was only the third to finish, he was given second place, because he acted nobly, saving both his friend and another champion’s sister.
Triwizard Tragedy was the next article. As Dudley read about an accident during the last challenge, which resulted in Cedric Diggory’s death, an awful memory flashed into his mind, making him feel sick. As he and Harry were walking home one summer night, he mocked Harry about his nightmares. ”Don’t kill Cedric! Who’s Cedric, your boyfriend?” Scribbled in the margin of the paper, was a note that said, “MURDER!”
Dudley could tell that the following year had been hard for Harry. Most of the articles called him an attention-seeking liar. They claimed that Voldemort had not returned, and, of course, Dudley knew that was not true. There were articles about a toad-faced woman named Dolores Umbridge, who had been named Hogwarts High Inquisitor. She replaced Dumbledore when the Ministry tried to arrest him and he ran.
The most interesting article so far was not from The Daily Prophet, like the rest. It was from a magazine called The Quibbler and was titledHarry Potter Speaks Out at Last: The Truth About He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and The Night I saw Him Return. Dedalus and Hestia had grazed over the story of Voldemort’s return, but this was a very detailed, first-hand account of what had happened.
There were several articles relating to a break-in at the Ministry. The first was titled He Who Must Not Be Named Returns and was an awkward speech given by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. The second article was titled Break-In at the Ministry and featured a picture of a damaged gold statue of a Wizard.
Amidst inquiries about a break-in at the Department of Mysteries, the Ministry declared that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back. Though Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter have been saying for over a year that he’s returned, the Ministry has finally recognized that they are telling the truth. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fled the premises of the Ministry just as Fudge and several aurors arrived.
No one will say exactly what happened at the Department of Mysteries, or why the break-in occurred, but we know that Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt, former Hogwarts professor, Remus Lupin, ex-auror, Alastor Moody, and several others were present, fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters.
Several Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy, escaped Death Eaters, Antonin Dolohov, and Augustus Rookwood, and former Ministry employee, Walden Macnair, were arrested and await trial. Bellatrix Lestrange reportedly escaped with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Though it is not clear what part they played in the break-in, five other Hogwarts students, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood, were involved. None of the involved parties will tell what happened or why they were at the Department of Mysteries that night. When Ginny Weasley, a fourth-year whose ankle was broken in the fray, was asked for a comment, she replied, “You dunderheads should have listened to Harry a year ago!”
The Ministry is making plans to prevent another attack such as this one. They are also making plans for the capture of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, now that he has come out into the open.
Dudley finished the article, which didn’t answer any of his questions but brought about many more. The next article was one he had already read, about Sirius Black being proven innocent; Dudley realized this is where he had heard Bellatrix Lestrange’s name.
There were a lot of depressing articles; reports of deaths and missing people, terrorist attacks and break-ins. Dudley learned that several highly-publicized attacks on Muggles were actually the work of Voldemort. There were many inquiries as to whether Harry was ‘The Chosen One’. The last article Dudley read was a report that Professor Albus Dumbledore had died, at the hands of one of the Hogwarts professors.
After finishing this article, Dudley stood back, more confused than he was before. The war was much more confusing than he’d realized, and he felt that Hestia and Dedalus were holding back some information from him.
He glanced at his list of things to ask Dedalus about when he returned. It had forty-three items on it, from who Bellatrix Lestrange and Cornelius Fudge were, to the what the Department of Mysteries and aurors were.
Wishing there were more articles that might explain some of his questions, Dudley instead started looking at the other items pinned to the wall. There were many photos of the same round-faced boy that was in the photographs downstairs. He was young in some”wearing new robes, boarding a train with a toad under his arm, and in a picture with four other boys. When Dudley looked closely, he realized one of the other boys was Harry, and a third was a redhead, no doubt Fred and George’s younger brother. Dudley found it strange to see Harry laughing with friends; the only other time he had seen Harry so happy was when Hagrid told him he was a wizard.
The round-faced boy looked older in other photographs. In one, he was standing with a squat woman, each of them holding an odd-looking plant. He was dressed up in another photograph, standing with his arm awkwardly around a very pretty redhead. A small wallet-sized photo showed the boy and with a blonde girl with big eyes; Dudley might have imagined it, but he looked a little intimidated by her. It took Dudley a minute to pick Neville out of a group picture, in which he also saw Harry, Fred, George, both of the other redheads, and the blonde girl.
Dudley read a small ripped piece of parchment which had been taped to the wall. It said, It takes great courage to stand up to our enemies, but an even greater deal of courage to stand up to our friends. Dudley didn’t understand the sentiment, as he had never found any trouble standing up to friends, and ignored it.
There was a short letter on the wall, written in cute, curvy script on blue parchment.
Neville,
How has your summer been? Mine is going extremely well. Father and I have captured many Freshwater Plimpies down by the creek and have been making very good soup. He is writing an article in the Quibbler about their healing properties. I will send you a copy when it is out. I do miss DA practice, don’t you?
Hope to hear from you soon,
Luna
Neville, thought Dudley. Where had he heard that name? He looked back at his list of things to ask Dedalus and found the name, Neville Longbottom, and an arrow to Frank and Alice Longbottom. Racking his brain, he remembered that Neville Longbottom was one of the students at the Department of Mysteries with Harry, and Frank and Alice were the aurors”whatever those are”that were tortured by…someone. He couldn’t remember the name at the moment.
And then he remembered Arthur Weasley’s Patronus, saying that they would be staying with Augusta Longbottom. Several things clicked in his mind, and he realized that he was staying in Neville’s room, one of Harry’s friends. Neville’s parents, or possibly Aunt and Uncle, were involved somehow in the first war, which is why they were tortured. Augusta Longbottom, Dudley assumed, was Neville’s grandmother, remembering that Fred and George had called her old.
“Dudders! Dinner is ready!” His mother’s high-pitched scream snapped Dudley back to the real world. He had no idea how long he’d spent reading that wall and trying to place the pieces together but when he looked outside, it was very dark.
“Coming, mum,” said Dudley, leaving the room. This could be an interesting stay, he thought as he made his way downstairs.
End Notes:
Wow, that was long, almost 5000 words, but it was necessary in developing the story. Please leave me a review! :)
Answers by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes:
I'm borrowing the characters from J.K. Rowling, once again. Enjoy!
Dudley woke up late the following morning to the sound of his father’s loud complaints. Groaning, Dudley rolled over and tried to understand what Vernon was saying. However, as loud as Vernon was, he was three floors below Dudley, who could only pick up a few words: “your lot”, “never”, and “dangerous”.
Dudley rose sleepily from bed, pulled on some clothes and stuffed his list of questions into his pocket, hoping Dedalus would be back. Then he left the room, curious about what Vernon was fighting with Hestia about now. But it was not Hestia who pierced Vernon with an angry stare at the foot of the stairs.
The old, frail-looking witch was wearing an enormous, hideous hat and clothes that looked as if they’d come from another century. She swung her wand threateningly at Vernon, and the large red handbag that was draped over her arm swung violently, nearly hitting him several times.
“I have offered you the safety of my home, and you thank me by insulting my family and warning me to stay away from yours? How dare you?” Her words were like ice.
“I am simply trying to protect my family from your lot.”
“Can’t we just forget this and try”” Dedalus spluttered, stepping between them but being knocked out of the way by Mrs. Longbottom’s handbag.
“You are so ignorant! We are not the ones you need protecting from!” shouted Mrs. Longbottom, with more force than Dudley would ever have expected from the old woman.
“Don’t even bother with him,” said Hestia, poking her head out from the kitchen door.
“I can see we’ve all gotten off to a great start,” remarked Dudley, noticing that some of Hestia’s sarcasm had worn off on him. Everyone looked at Dudley, who was still standing on the bottom step of the staircase, seeming to notice him for the first time.
“It’s about time you woke up,” said Dedalus. “Dudley, this is Ms. Longbottom.”
“Dudley shook her hand and said, “Thanks for letting us stay here; we really appreciate it.” Vernon’s eyes narrowed.
Ms. Longbottom looked surprised; Dudley assumed she expected him to be like his father.
“It is no problem. I can’t do much for the Order, not like my son used to, but I like to help where I can. You look to be about my grandson’s age, how old are you?”
“I’m seventeen, ma’am,” said Dudley. He didn’t usually make much of an effort to be polite, but Ms. Longbottom looked like someone who expected it.
“Neville’s age, exactly!” she exclaimed. “Neville is a great boy, very much like his father, my son. He’s off at Hogwarts, now, leading the students in a revolt against the Carrows. Can you imagine, Death Eaters teaching at Hogwarts?” Her voice was full of pride; Dudley recognized it as the same tone that his parents used when they bragged about him. Her argument with Vernon forgotten, Ms. Longbottom began telling Dudley and Dedalus about what was going on at Hogwarts and how Neville and his friends were trying to stop it.
“Breakfast is ready,” said Hestia, several minutes later.
Dudley was amazed by what he saw in the kitchen. Pots and pans, suspended in mid-air, were being served by spatulas held by no one. Bacon soared precariously across the room and landed on plates while milk bottles poured themselves into six glasses. In the sink, a floating sponge was already washing several pans.
Dudley realized his mouth was hanging wide open and quickly closed it. Petunia, who seemed to have been helping Hestia in the kitchen, grabbed two plates and took them into the dining room. It was lucky she brought dad his plate, thought Dudley, because he would never have eaten it had he seen how it was prepared.
Vernon ate so quickly he had finished and already started up the stairs before everyone was sitting.
Ms. Longbottom sat down and said, “As much as I’d like to have a nice, quiet breakfast, there are some things we must discuss immediately. Dedalus told me that the charm I used on the door closed before he came in, and this worries me. I have performed that charm dozens of times before and I’ve never done it wrong. It’s a terrifying thought, but is there a way someone could have followed you in, invisible or otherwise disguised?”
Petunia looked terrified as she asked shakily. “Followed? How could we have been followed without knowing?”
“For witches and wizards, there are many ways,” said Dedalus, “but we have been monitoring you very closely. I don’t see how anyone could have followed us from the Weasley’s or Apparated with us.”
“They didn’t have time to follow us after arriving, either,” said Hestia. “Not two minutes after we Apparated into the field, we were already inside.”
“It still makes me wonder,” Ms. Longbottom sighed. “Until we learn why it didn’t work properly, we should all keep our guards up in the house.”
“So, where did you have to go so suddenly?” asked Dedalus.
“There have been some issues with Frank and Alice at St. Mungo’s. Don’t worry, they’re okay,” she said at Dedalus’ concerned look. “Ever since You-Know-Who took over the Ministry, he’s had control over St. Mungo’s as well. Frank and Alice have never been a trouble before, but now that he’s in charge, they’ve been sending Owls about them misbehaving several days a week.”
“That’s terrible!” said Hestia.
Dudley knew who Frank and Alice were, from the newspaper clippings, but his mum looked confused.
“If you don’t mind me asking, who are Frank and Alice?” asked Petunia.
“Oh, how rude of me,” said Ms. Longbottom. “You and Dudley must be very confused. Frank and Alice are my son and daughter-in-law. They were in the Order during the first war, but were tortured to insanity by several Death Eaters.” She said this matter-of-factly, but her eyes had begun to water. “They have been at St. Mungo’s ever since, and I’ve raised their son, Neville.”
“I am so sorry,” said Petunia. She said this very honestly, unlike when she consoled her neighbors in order to hear gossip.
“Thank you. Anyway, I’ve been looking into other hospitals, away from You-Know-Who, and I haven’t decided between Merlin’s Magical Hospital in Sydney or the Salem Hospital for Witches and Wizards in Massachusetts.”
“Do you know when you’ll be moving them?” asked Hestia.
“Well, that’s what makes it a little complicated. I didn’t think moving them would be a problem until a few weeks ago. I’ve been getting Owls every other day, claiming that they’ve been wandering the hallways or attacking the Healers. They’ve always been classified as harmless, but they’ve been reclassified as ‘Potentially Harmful to Others’, a big load of tosh that is!”
“It sounds like the sooner you move them, the better,” said Dedalus.
“That’s just the problem; I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to move them. Now that they’re considered dangerous, I need the Head Healer to approve it, and I don’t know if that’s a possibility.”
“We just need a plan,” said Hestia. “I’ll help you get them out! Those bloody Healers don’t know how to use a Shield Charm to save their lives!”
“I’m here to help, as well!” said Dedalus.
“Thank you, both of you, but I hope it doesn’t come to that,” said Ms. Longbottom.
Dudley had been listening with rapt attention to their conversation, both interested in what Ms. Longbottom was saying but anxious to ask his own questions. When he saw his chance, he said, “I read some things about the Wizarding World last night, and I have a lot of questions, if you don’t mind answering.”
“Of course not!” said Dedalus.
“What are your questions?” asked Ms. Longbottom.
Dudley pulled the list from his pocket and flattened it out on the table. He skipped the first note, which said ‘Who are Bellatrix Lestrange and Frank and Alice Longbottom?’ They had already answered that one. He skipped to the second note, reading aloud ‘What is the Chamber of Secrets?’
“The Chamber of Secrets?” asked Hestia. “Where did you hear about that?”
“One of Neville’s walls is covered with newspaper clippings and photos, and I was curious so I read them, but they didn’t all make sense. I hope it’s okay that I read them, Ms. Longbottom.”
“Oh, it’s perfectly alright,” she said. “Neville’s been collecting those for years; I’m not sure why, but at least it did someone some good. As for the Chamber of Secrets, Dedalus and I can tell you a lot about that!”
“That’s just a myth!” said Hestia.
“That’s what the professors wanted us to think,” said Dedalus. “But Augusta and I were there the first time it was opened.”
“Yes, and Neville was in his second year when it was opened again, so I heard all about that from him.”
Dedalus and Augusta explained to Dudley, Hestia, and Petunia about the founders of Hogwarts, Slytherin creating the Chamber, the girl who was killed the first time, and Ginny Weasley disappearing the second. Though they didn’t know all of the details, it was common knowledge that Harry and Ron were involved, and Neville told Ms. Longbottom that Gryffindor suddenly had another four hundred points the next day.
Dudley went down his list, asking about everything from Sirius Black to the Department of Mysteries, from the Tri-Wizard Challenge to Professor Umbridge. Dedalus, Hestia, and Ms. Longbottom were good people to talk to, because Dedalus and Hestia knew things through the Order and Neville told Ms. Longbottom what was going on at Hogwarts. They were even learning things from each other, often discussing, arguing, and going off on tangents that Dudley didn’t understand (though they would explain later).
Petunia was getting involved in the conversation, too, asking them many questions. Even after Dudley finished his list, he had come up with many more questions and continued to ask those. At one o’clock, their conversation was still going strong, when Vernon came thudding down the stairs, looking for lunch.
He seemed disgusted by the notion that Petunia and Dudley had been downstairs talking with them all that time, and started grumbling about family loyalty and respect.
Ms. Longbottom stood up, offering to bring sandwiches and soup for lunch. Hestia quickly followed her into the other room.
Vernon sat down at the table, looking cross and still mumbling angrily under his breath. Dedalus left the room, saying he was going to help Ms. Longbottom and Hestia.
“Been having a nice chat, have you?” asked Vernon.
“I just had a few questions for them”about the war and stuff,” said Dudley.
“Like their answers mean anything. It’s all a load of codswallop!” Vernon raised his voice as his face started purpling.
“They have information we don’t, about the war and You-Know-Who. He’s chasing us; it would be irresponsible not to find out why!”
“They’re lying!” Vernon proclaimed wildly.
“What?”
“How do we even know this You-Know-Who person exists? They haven’t shown us proof!”
“What do you expect them to do? Invite him for tea so we can see him?” asked Dudley sarcastically.
“If this is such a big threat to the world, we would have heard of him from someone other than them!”
“No, we wouldn’t! Muggles don’t know about him! How many witch or wizard friends do you have?”
“None, thank you very much!” Vernon said, seemingly offended by the notion of his having a witch or wizard friend. “But there still would have been some sign that he exists!”
“What about when his death eaters came into the apartment in Paris and tried to kill us?” Dudley suggested.
“We don’t know those were his people! It was right after Hestia said that Voldybert name, or whatever it was! Maybe that was a signal for them to come in!”
“You are being ridiculous!” shouted Dudley, who was glad that his dad couldn’t remember the name, Voldemort.
“Am I?” asked Vernon in feigned surprise, standing and knocking back the chair. “Am I the ridiculous one, when you two are in here chatting with their lot?”
“Dad, we are learning about the Wizarding World in order to protect ourselves! Someone is after us, and we have a right to know why!” Dudley was now standing, too.
“Petunia, are you listening to him?” Vernon said, turning to face her. “These people have gotten into his head, and they’re getting into yours, too!”
“They’re not getting into our heads!” she said. “You’re just paranoid!”
“Do you realize, Petunia, that this lot is the same one your sister was in? And her crazy husband, and now Harry? We said we were going to stop this! If this weren’t for your freak of a sister landing us with Harry””
“Don’t call my sister a freak!” screamed Petunia. “I’ve spent too many years pretending I hated Lily because she was a witch!”
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” asked Vernon. “Of course it was because she was a witch! Why else would””
“Because I’m NOT a witch!” shouted Petunia. “I was jealous! When she got her letter, I wanted nothing more than to go to Hogwarts with her, to learn to do magic with her, ride a broom, make potions. I couldn’t go, so instead I just pretended that being a witch was a terrible thing, when I wanted nothing more in the world than to be one!” Tears streaked down her face and she slumped back in her chair, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Vernon was absolutely dumbfounded. He simply stood there, his mouth hanging open, ready to yell but with no sound coming out. Dudley had heard all of this from his mum before, but never with so much emotion.
“These people are freaks,” Vernon said quietly, looking to Dudley, as if for reassurance.
“No, dad, they’re not.”
At lunch, Dudley was the one who ate his meal quickly and left. There had been too much drama for him and he wanted to go up to Neville’s room alone. After a tiring journey up three flights of stairs, Dudley was happy to find that the doorknob worked on the first attempt.
He walked across the room to the large window overlooking the valley. It was a bright, sunny day outside, one that even Dudley could appreciate. Dudley watched the tall yellow-green grass sway gently in the field. Suddenly, a person popped into sight in the middle of the field, someone that hadn’t been there before. The tall, black boy in a dark cloak checked over his shoulder cautiously before sprinting toward the house.
End Notes:
Tell me what you think!
The Plan by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes:
"FINALLY!" I'm sure that's what you all said when you got this update.. I'm terribly sorry, I know it's been forever, but here it is! You can thank my Spring Break, because that finally gave me the chance to work on it. The characters are still J.K.'s, go figure. Enjoy :)
Dudley ran down the stairs quicker than anyone would have believed he could, screaming all the way. “Hestia! Dedalus!” he shouted. “Ms. Longbottom!”
The frantic wizard and two witches, all with wands drawn, reached the foot of the stairs at the same moment that Dudley did. “What’s wrong?” asked Dedalus.
“There’s” There’s a”” Dudley panted. The sprint down the stairs left him out of breath. He pointed to the door as he breathed his unintelligible sentence one word at a time. “Outside”boy”I saw””
Hestia, Dedalus, and Ms. Longbottom turned toward the door, and Dudley collapsed onto the staircase, breathing heavily. Only a few seconds later, the boy could be seen through the front windows.
“No Witch or Wizard should even be able to see this house,” Augusta whispered.
Hestia put one finger to her lips, indicating they should be silent. No one spoke; no one moved. Everyone was waiting for something to happen.
The boy walked up the steps silently”if Dudley hadn’t seen him, no one would have known he was coming. He lifted his left hand up and removed his hood. Hestia’s wand suddenly slashed down violently, but, just as quickly, Ms. Longbottom’s hand was around Hestia’s wrist, stopping her spell.
“Dean?” Ms. Longbottom strode quickly to the door and yanked it open, just as the boy had lifted his hand to knock. “Dean Thomas! Get in here, boy! You nearly gave all of us heart attacks, sneaking up on front doors these days!”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Longbottom,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to scare you, only I had nowhere else to go, and Neville said I could””
“Yes, I know what Neville said,” interrupted Ms. Longbottom. “Who do you think told him to tell you?”
“Oh, thank you,” he said, looking even more surprised than when Ms. Longbottom had opened the door before he’d knocked.
“Wait, before you thank me, what is your favorite sport?” asked Ms. Longbottom.
“Football, of course!” Dean said.
“Well, it must be you, then, Dean. No one else has such poor taste in sports!” said Ms. Longbottom. Dean laughed and shrugged, not offended by her insult. “Dean, this is Hestia Jones and this is Dedalus Diggle, they’re both in the Order. And this is Petunia Dursley, and her son, Dudley.” Petunia was standing sheepishly in the doorway to the kitchen. Vernon was nowhere to be seen. “Everyone, this is Dean Thomas, a friend of Neville’s.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Dedalus, shaking Dean’s hand. “But what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be at Hogwarts with Neville?”
“I should,” said Dean bitterly. “But I’ve been on the run all year. I’m Muggle-Born.”
“Oh, well of course you’re much safer here,” said Dedalus.
“Why don’t we go into the living room to catch up?” asked Ms. Longbottom.
It wasn’t until he, Ms. Longbottom, and Dean were sitting that Dudley realized the others didn’t follow. He didn’t see where Hestia and Dedalus had gone, and his mum was still standing awkwardly in the door.
“How is Neville?” asked Dean. “I haven’t had a way to talk to anyone in months!”
“He is doing very well, and so is Seamus, which I’m sure was your next question. But Hogwarts isn’t quite what it used to be. Neville, Ginny Weasley, and that Loony-Luna Lovegood girl have reorganized Dumbledore’s Army to fight the Carrows.”
“That’s great! But who are the Carrows?”
“Oh, of course, you don’t know! Alecto and Amycus Carrow, death eaters and Hogwart’s two newest professors!” Her voice was dripping with hatred and disapproval.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Dean exclaimed.
“I wish I was. But what’s worse? Can you guess who replaced Dumbledore?” Dean shook his head, to which Ms. Longbottom responded, “Snape.”
“Didn’t Snape kill Dumbledore?” asked Dudley, shocked.
“Yes,” answered Dean, who looked disgusted. “What has the D.A. been doing?”
Ms. Longbottom told them about the efforts to keep up Hogwarts students’ spirits by defying the Carrows and breaking kids out of detentions. She also told them about Unforgivable Curses being used in class, and with each piece of news, Dean became more and more shocked. Of course, Dudley was surprised, too, but he imagined it was worse for Dean to hear this about his own school.
“I can’t believe what is happening at Hogwarts!” exclaimed Dean.
“It’s very sad, when one of the safest places in the Wizarding World is no longer safe,” said Ms. Longbottom.
“Did you go to Hogwarts, too?” asked Dean.
It took a moment for Dudley to realize Dean was addressing him. “Oh, no, no,” Dudley said quickly. He realized he was laughing and hoped Dean didn’t think he was acting rudely. “I’m not a Wizard.”
“You two probably have a bit in common,” said Ms. Longbottom. “Dean is Muggle-born. You didn’t know you were a Wizard until you got your letter, did you, Dean? I’ll leave you two to talk while I start supper,” said Ms. Longbottom, leaving the room.
“Just like Harry,” Dudley commented under his breath.
“What was that you said?” asked Dean.
“My cousin, he didn’t know he was a Wizard until he got his letter, either.”
“Oh, so that’s how you’re involved in the Wizarding World! I wondered why a Muggle was hanging out in such a well-protected house with two guards from the Order,” Dean mused. “Is your cousin part of the Order or something?”
“Well, I don’t know if Harry’s in the Order, but he’s pretty big in the fight. He thinks You-Know-Who might be after us,” said Dudley.
“Harry?” asked Dean. “Do you mean Harry Potter?”
Dudley nodded, once again baffled by his cousin’s fame.
“I didn’t know Harry had a cousin,” said Dean.
“I don’t imagine he would have mentioned us. We sort of treated him like dirt for his entire life. It wasn’t until he saved my life last year that I stopped hating him.” Dudley’s face turned red from embarrassment.
“Come to think of it, I remember Harry mentioned that he was raised by a terrible lot of Muggles.”
Dudley looked up apologetically, but realized that Dean was laughing.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Dean said, laughing. “I know what a shock it is for Muggles to have a wizard around. My mum was almost afraid to come near me my first summer back from Hogwarts!”
Dudley laughed. “How do you know Harry?”
“We were roommates for six years! We were in the same year in Gryffindor. I’ll bet their room is very empty this year, with only Neville and Seamus. There used to be five of us.”
Two this year, thought Dudley, plus Dean makes three, plus Harry makes four. “Was Ron the fifth?” asked Dudley, hoping he had done his math right.
“Yeah, the rumor is that Ron’s home sick with Spattergroit, but my bet is that he’s with Harry!” said Dean.
“Probably so,” said Dudley, wondering what Spattergroit was. “So you’ve had to go on the run just because you’re Muggle-born?”
“Yes, according to You-Know-Who, our magic had to come from somewhere, so we must have stolen it.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Which makes perfect sense, of course,” he said sarcastically, “because that’s exactly what every eleven-year-old Muggle is thinking about.”
Dudley laughed. “When I was eleven, I was trying my best to avoid Magic! Of course, my parents had basically brainwashed me to hate it.”
Dean shrugged his shoulders, then yawned. “I’m exhausted. I haven’t gotten real sleep in weeks. Are you staying in Neville’s room?”
Dudley nodded.
“I guess we’re bunking together then,” said Dean. “I’ll see if Ms. L has a cot.”
“You can take the bed,” Dudley offered. “You probably need it more than I do.”
“Great, thanks,” said Dean. He pulled his wand from his jeans pocket, waved it lightly, and a black duffel bag appeared on the floor. Dean grabbed the bag and ran upstairs for an afternoon nap.
Dudley was surprised to have met yet another person who knew Harry so much better than he did. He’d been with them since they were babies, but only started learning about him a few months ago. He’d never even thought, or cared, about whether Harry had roommates, what his school was like, or who his friends were.
He was happy to talk to someone his own age, for a change. Though he got along with Hestia and Dedalus very well, it was easier to connect with another teenager.
***
For the past week, Dudley and Dean had been hanging out all the time and getting along very well. Dudley loved to hear about Hogwarts, wishing more and more with each story that he was a wizard, too.
Dean had taught Dudley to play Wizard’s Chess. Though Dudley had never gotten into chess before, Wizard’s Chess was much more exciting because of the pieces being smashed. Luckily, Dean wasn’t very good, either, so it was a fair match.
One morning, they slept late and finally walked downstairs at 11:00 for breakfast.
“Good morning, Ms. L” greeted Dean and Dudley simultaneously.
“It’s about time you two showed up,” said Ms. Longbottom, looking up from The Daily Prophet.
“We were up pretty late last night playing Wizard’s Chess,” admitted Dean.
“You were both playing?” she asked curiously.
“Well, I wasn’t playing myself,” joked Dean.
“But the pieces moved for Dudley, too?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Dean.
“Interesting,” she said. Dudley was about to ask why this was interesting when she continued, “there’s some breakfast left in the dining room, unless Vernon’s gotten to it, of course.”
“Why do you think she said ‘interesting’ like that?” asked Dudley when Ms. Longbottom was out of earshot.
“Probably because a lot of Wizard’s Chess pieces don’t listen to someone they don’t know,” said Dean.
After breakfast, Dudley and Dean planned on searching Neville’s room for his Remembral. But they stopped in the foyer when they overheard hushed voices coming from the parlor. Dean shushed Dudley, and they tiptoed closer to the doorway to hear, careful to stay out of sight.
For the past few days, Hestia, Dedalus, and Ms. Longbottom had been keeping something from Dudley and Dean, their conversation ending abruptly when the boys entered the room.
“What if the death eaters are called on us?” asked Dedalus.
“We’ll just have to be ready for a fight,” said Hestia.
“Do you know how many death eaters are on call?”
“They’re all over the place now. There’s one standing outside the lifts on each floor and many more roaming the halls,” said Ms. Longbottom. “But I doubt any of them will be much of a problem. It seems as if Voldemort is allowing any daft thug who will fit into the cloaks to join these days.”
“We’ll be okay,” agreed Hestia. “All we need is enough time for you to get outside and Apparate.”
“Let’s go over this again,” said Ms. Longbottom. “Dedalus, you’ll go inside and distract the Welcome Witch. Hestia, you’ll be wearing a healer’s uniform and take me to the fourth floor. We’ll get Frank and Alice to change into robes and stun any healer that gets in our way. Then, we’ll walk outside and I’ll Side-Apparate Frank and Alice to Salem, Massachusetts.”
“And I’ll go back inside and help Dedalus with whatever mess he’s gotten himself into,” said Hestia sarcastically.
“Sounds like a plan!” said Dedalus.
“Are you two sure about this?” asked Ms. Longbottom. “It will be risky.”
“Of course, Augusta,” said Dedalus.
“I’m itching for action!” said Hestia, excited. “I didn’t join the Order to babysit.”
“Alright, as soon as we receive the Owl from the Salem Hospital for Witches and Wizards saying that they’re ready for Frank and Alice, we’ll leave,” said Ms. Longbottom.
Someone in the room stood up and, after sharing a knowing glance, Dudley and Dean raced up the stairs.
“They weren’t even going to tell us they’re planning to break Frank and Alice out of St. Mungo’s!” exclaimed Dudley as soon as they shut the door to Neville’s room.
“More like they weren’t going to let us help,” grumbled Dean.
“It’s not like I could do any good, but you could help,” said Dudley.
“I will. When that Owl comes, I’m going with them.”
***
It was at dinner two nights later that the Owl arrived to set everything in motion. However, it was not the Owl any of them were expecting. Dudley was gazing out the window, dragging his fork absentmindedly across his empty plate, as Vernon droned on about his usual complaints.
Somewhere between, “You’re brainwashing my family,” and “You-Know-Who probably doesn’t exist,” Dudley noticed a small speck in the sky. It grew larger and larger as it flew closer, and Dudley was sure it was an owl. He caught Dean’s eye and gestured to the window. Dean glanced outside, nodded to Dudley, and quickly shoved the remainder of his dinner down.
The owl caught everyone else’s attention when it landed gracefully on the windowsill and rapped the glass with its beak three times. “Ruddy owl,” grumbled Vernon.
Ms. Longbottom rushed to open the window, untying the parchment from the owl’s leg. Dudley could tell she was excited and anxious for the papers admitting Frank and Alice to the hospital in Salem. However, her face dropped after reading the first few lines, morphing quickly to annoyance. “Another letter from bloody St. Mungo’s,” she muttered.
Dean, Hestia, and Dedalus, who were all ready to pounce into action, relaxed. At the same moment, however, Ms. Longbottom’s frail fingers tensed on the delicate piece of parchment. She skimmed the letter frantically, her face filled with horror.
No one but Dudley seemed to notice. “What’s wrong, Ms. Longbottom?” asked Dudley.
Ms. Longbottom looked up, but directed her answer to Dedalus and Hestia more so than to Dudley. “They’ve been placed under maximum security watch.”
“Those bastards,” snapped Hestia.
“What exactly does maximum security mean?” asked Dedalus.
Ms. Longbottom help up the parchment and began reading.
“Dear Augusta Longbottom,
Your son, Frank Longbottom, and daughter-in-law, Alice Longbottom, are being placed under maximum security watch, due to their continued nuisance at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Because of the constant trouble they have caused and the danger they pose to St. Mungo’s staff and patients, we have no other option. There will be two Ministry Officials watching them at all times who will be prepared to take action to keep them in line if necessary Please contact your Magical Witch and Wizard Insurance Company to learn how this affects your costs.
Sincerely,
St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries”
“We can’t wait for the papers from the Salem Hospital,” said Hestia. “We need to get them out immediately.”
“We’ll use the same plan as before,” said Ms. Longbottom. “Hestia and I will just have to fight off more security.”
“I’m coming, too,” said Dean.
“Thank you, Dean, but it’s much too dangerous,” said Dedalus.
“It’ll be less dangerous if there are four of us, and not just you three,” said Dean.
“We’ve been trained for this, Dean,” said Ms. Longbottom. “Dedalus and Hestia are in the Order and I’ve seen my fair share of fights.”
“And I was in Dumbledore’s Army! Harry Potter trained me!” said Dean. “Please, Ms. L, you’re always bragging about how much good the D.A. is doing at Hogwarts. Let me help!”
“That’s different,” said Ms. Longbottom gravely. “They are fighting other children and two dim-witted death eaters. This is a highly guarded hospital.”
“I can handle it,” said Dean tersely. “How is it any safer for only three of you to go?”
“You risk much more than anyone else by being caught!” shouted Hestia. “You’re Muggle-born!”
“And you’re members of the Order!” shouted Dean back. “How much better do you think they’ll treat you if you’re caught?”
“But I knew that when I joined the Order, Dean,” said Hestia. “What have you been on the run for all this time? Certainly not for sport! And now you’re planning to run to them?”
“Being on the run taught me to care for myself,” said Dean. “I’m not the same kid I was last year at Hogwarts, and, believe me, I’ve had my share of fights in the past few months, too.”
“Dean, this isn’t your battle,” said Ms. Longbottom. “I’ve already dragged my friends into it; I’m not involving Neville’s friends, too.”
“I wasn’t asking if I could help,” said Dean stubbornly. “I am going. If you want to include me in your plans, then I’ll do as you say. If not, then I’ll follow you and find my own way to help.”
“Dean, do not follow us. You don’t need to get involved in this,” said Hestia warningly.
Dudley was only half-listening to their argument. An idea had sprung into his head and, amidst the chaos, he was trying to get everyone’s attention. But try as he might, they were all yelling at one another too stubbornly to allow a fifth person into the fight.
Eventually, Dudley gave up and ran up the stairs. He burst into Neville’s room and immediately began emptying his messy trunk, strewing his clothes all over the bedroom. Finally, he found the small, striped box at the bottom of the trunk. He grabbed this and ran clumsily back down the stairs, just in time to see Dean disappearing out the open front door. Hestia, Dedalus, and Ms. Longbottom were running away from the house. In an instant, they disappeared from the dark, open field outside with a loud pop.
Dudley ran after Dean, shouting for him to come back.
“Go back, Dudley!” shouted Dean. “Stay in the house where you’re safe!”
“Dudders! Come back!” shrieked Petunia from the porch. Dudley ignored her and continued after Dean.
“Wait! Dean, wait! I have something that will help!” Dudley shouted, but he was panting so heavily that he doubted Dean could understand him.
“Dudley, I have to catch up with them!” said Dean. “Go back! I’ll see you later!”
“Dudders! Come back inside!” cried Petunia. “Duddykins!”
Dean stopped abruptly, at the same exact spot that the others had disappeared. His entire body tensed for a moment and he took a deep breath. Dudley knew he had only seconds to get Dean’s attention before he Apparated. Though he was exhausted, panting heavily, and his legs burned from running, Dudley forced himself to sprint those last few steps. When he reached Dean, he clapped his huge hand on Dean’s skinny shoulder to turn him around.
But Dudley suddenly felt his body being pulled, contorted, and compressed; he gripped tightly onto Dean’s shoulder, for it was the only sense of direction he had. His lungs tightened and he was out of breath. Finally, his lungs opened up and he gasped a warm breath of air.
Dudley recognized the familiar sensation of Apparition and looked to see where Dean had taken him. The street wasn’t what he was expecting. It looked like any normal, Muggle street, with a coffee shop on one corner and a closed department store on the other.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Dean said in a very strained whisper. He grabbed Dudley and pulled him to a small alley where they were hidden from the street.
“I was trying to give you something, but you wouldn’t turn around,” said Dudley.
“I had to catch up with them,” Dead said exasperatedly. “Now I’ll never find them.” Then, shock covered his face. “I just Side-Apparated you! I’ve never done that before, and to do it when I’m not prepared! I’m surprised I didn’t Splinch you,” said Dean in a patronizing tone.
“You’re surprised you didn’t what?” asked Dudley, then he quickly added, “oh, nevermind! I wasn’t trying to come with you. I just thought these might help.” Dudley held out the small, striped box.
“Sweets?” asked Dean skeptically.
“No, it’s a Skiving Snackbox,” said Dudley, “from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”
Understanding immediately colored Dean’s expression. “That could help, but we need to get you back to the Longbottom’s before something bad happens.”
“No, that’ll ruin everything!” objected Dudley.
“They already told me not to come,” said Dean. “What do you expect they’ll say if they find out I’ve brought you, too?”
“But I’m already here!” said Dudley. “We can’t just do nothing to help them, and by the time you take me back to the Longbottom’s house, you will have missed your chance!”
“Yes, but””
“Stop saying but; let’s just go! They’re already ahead of us!”
With one last exasperated look, Dean agreed and started towards the deserted department store, Purge and Dowse, Ltd., with Dudley, who was armed with nothing but a Skiving Snackbox, at his heels.
End Notes:
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this! What do you think? What's going to happen at St. Mungo's? Let me know!
The Rescue from St. Mungo's by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes:
I'm still not JK Rowling, and these are still her characters. :)
Dean approached a dusty display window in the vacant store, Purge and Dowse Ltd. He looked over his shoulders nervously, watching the Muggles that passed by quickly, before addressing the plastic dummy in the window.
“We’re here to visit the Janus Thickey ward,” said Dean.
“Who are you talking to?” asked Dudley.
Dean didn’t need to answer, however, because a moment later the dummy in the display beckoned them forward.
“C’mon,” said Dean, and he walked through the glass display case and disappeared.
“What have I gotten myself into?” Dudley muttered to himself. He glanced over his shoulder; the streets were filled with Muggles—or at least he assumed they were Muggles—who surely should have noticed Dean walking through a glass wall. However, no one seemed to take any notice of him, Dean, or the dummy, which was now staring at him, indicating more urgently for him to walk forward.
Dudley stepped through, finding Dean waiting on the other side. They were in a reception area, filled with witches and wizards, most of whom were sporting odd disfigurements or strange rashes. One young wizard had an enormous elephant trunk where his nose should have been, and occasionally made a trumpeting sound. An older witch was sitting in a waiting room chair with her hands folded across her lap; the odd thing was that her skin had disappeared, and her hands were nothing more than bones and muscles. Dudley shivered slightly at the sight and tried to ignore the rest of the patients after that.
At several points along the wall, there were death eaters observing everyone in the reception area. They wore long, black cloaks with hoods pulled so far forward that it was impossible to see their faces.
“Blimey, St. Mungo’s has changed,” Dean muttered.
“How so?” asked Dudley.
“All of the death eaters,” he said, still very quietly. “There were never even guards here, not that I knew of anyway, but especially not death eaters.”
Dean and Dudley were almost at the lifts when Dedalus noticed them. He had been standing in the corner, presumably waiting for Mrs. Longbottom and Hestia to come back. He seemed surprised to see Dudley, and started waving his arms at them to stop, motioning them to get out. Dean shook his head at Dedalus, his way of saying, “we’re not leaving”.
Unfortunately, one of the death eaters had noticed their exchange. He approached Dean and Dudley, while another approached Dedalus.
“Do you know the man over there?” he grunted. Dudley could barely see his pale face behind the hood, but he could see the smirk.
“No, never seen him before,” said Dean casually, and he started forward again.
“He seems to think he knows you,” the death eater said, stepping into Dean’s way.
“He seems like a bloody idiot, if you ask me,” said Dean, this time more aggressively. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll be on our way.”
“I do mind,” said the death eater. “I’ll need to know your names.”
“I’m Theodore Nott,” said Dean quickly. “This is Vincent Crabbe. I’m sure you know our fathers.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the death eater, “I—I didn’t realize—”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” interrupted Dean. “In fact, I believe I’ll need to know your name.”
“Oh, Mr. Nott, it was a mistake, honestly,” the death eater spluttered.
“You’re lucky we’re in a hurry,” snapped Dean, before turning to leave. Dudley followed quickly behind him into the lifts.
“Who are Theodore Nott and Vincent Crabbe?” asked Dudley after the doors had closed.
“Two death eaters’ kids that go to Hogwarts,” said Dean, smirking. “That was really close!”
“What about Dedalus?” asked Dudley.
“He should be fine,” said Dean. “He’s in the Order. Plus, he was already planning on being a distraction, so he has to know a way to get away from them.”
The doors opened on the fourth floor and Dean and Dudley were instantly surrounded by chaos. Spells and jinxes soared across the hallway before them, while medical devices crashed to the ground and parts of walls exploded. Mrs. Longbottom and Hestia were outnumbered, fighting five death eaters, but they had already stopped one, who was on the ground. As Dean leapt into the action, Dudley immediately fell to the floor in the corner of the lift.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Mrs. Longbottom shouted at Dean.
“It looks like you could use some help!” Dean shouted back.
“We are doing perfectly fine,” Mrs. Longbottom said stubbornly as she blocked a red light aimed at her chest.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Dean said, smirking. Dudley thought he looked like he was enjoying himself too much for someone who was being attacked.
Suddenly, the lift doors started to close. Dudley jumped up from where he’d been sitting on the floor, but was too late to get through.
“Bloody hell!” he shouted. He searched frantically for the open door button, but there was none. In fact, there were no buttons at all. Then he recalled getting into the lift in Paris, when Dedalus had no idea how to use them. He tried to remember how Dean made the lift work, but he hadn’t been paying attention. “Come on, open!” he shouted desperately.
And they did. Dudley was astonished that it had worked. He quickly got out, worried the doors would close again and he would be stuck. The sign said Third Floor: Potion and Plant Poisoning. He saw the staircase directly across the hall, and chose to use those instead.
The small spiral staircase wound up to the fourth floor. Portraits of old witches and wizards covered the walls, and they shouted at him as he ran up the stairs.
“Boy, what are you doing in the hospital?” asked a portrait of a white-haired witch.
“You don’t look sick!” said another. “Don’t you know there are bigger problems than a little cold!”
“The Wizarding World has become a dangerous place!”
“Are you listening?” said a balding wizard portrait. “St. Mungo’s is no longer what it used to be! Leave before you lose your chance!”
“I’m trying to get people out of here!” Dudley shouted at the portraits.
“Good for you, son,” said the balding wizard. “Be careful. There are even more death eaters in this hospital than you probably think.”
“Thank you,” Dudley said to the portrait. He decided to contemplate the fact that he had just thanked an inanimate object later; for now, he had to find the others.
When he got back up to the fourth floor, Dean, Mrs. Longbottom, and Hestia seemed to be winning. There were several death eaters on the ground, Mrs. Longbottom and Dean were each fighting one death eater, and Hestia was fighting two.
“Dudley!” shouted Hestia when she saw him. “What—what are you doing?” She seemed more surprised than angry, but Dudley knew from experience that that probably wouldn’t last long.
“It’s a long story,” said Dudley. “Can I help?”
“You can help by getting your arse out of the way!” Hestia shouted. “Get in there!” She pointed to the Janus Thickey Long Term Resident’s Ward.
Dudley obeyed, running inside and shutting the door. He leaned against the door, breathing heavily from running up the stairs. However, when someone tapped him on the shoulder, he jumped so high he nearly hit the ceiling. He turned around to see a blond, blue eyed man smiling broadly at him.
“Hello, how are you?” asked the man enthusiastically.
“Just dandy,” answered Dudley sarcastically.
“Would you like an autograph?”
“Why would I want an autograph?”
“Well, because I’m Gilderoy Lockhart, of course,” said the man, unphased by Dudley’s rudeness. “I am famous!”
Dudley suddenly remembered where he was and realized that Gilderoy Lockhart probably had some sort of problem if he lived in the long-term ward of the hospital.
“Right, yeah, I’d love one,” said Dudley, a little half-heartedly.
“Well, of course you do!” he said, turning to his desk to find a photograph and quill. “Apparently, I used to teach, too! I wonder if I taught you!”
Dudley vaguely wondered what subject this man could have taught, but didn’t care very much. He looked around, seeing that there weren’t many beds in this ward. Across from Lockhart, there were curtains drawn around a bed for privacy. Dudley walked to the end, to the only two other occupied beds. A frail woman and a sad-looking man were in these two beds, which were next to each other.
“Mrs. Longbottom?” asked Dudley. “Mr. Longbottom?”
The man looked up at him weakly, but didn’t seem to take much notice. Dudley wondered whether these were the Longbottoms, or if they were in a different ward. He looked at their wall, which was covered in photographs. He recognized several of them from Mrs. Longbottom’s house, some of Frank and Alice when they were young, and a few of Neville as a kid.
Dudley realized that he might actually be able to help in some way, by getting Frank and Alice ready to leave. With this new idea, he tried harder to get responses from them.
“Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, how are you?” Dudley coaxed. He hoped he was doing this correctly; admittedly, he didn’t have the best bedside manner, but this was important for everyone’s safety. “Come on, don’t you want to take a little trip? We’re taking a vacation!”
They responded a little more this time, Frank and Alice actually sitting up.
“Yeah, let’s go! Were going away, but we have to move quickly!” He thought he saw Alice smile, and, slowly, they both started to move forward.
“Where are we going?” asked Gilderoy Lockhart cheerily. He was holding his autograph out for Dudley.
“Er… to the park,” said Dudley.
Lockhart was about to say something, but he was interrupted when the door burst open. Dudley looked over his shoulder, hoping it would be Mrs. Longbottom. His heart sank when he saw the black cloak and hood walking toward them.
“It’s your lucky day, sir!” exclaimed Lockhart. “I’ll write an autograph for you!”
“For the last time, I do not want an autograph,” snarled the death eater. Then he turned on Dudley and said, “who the bloody hell are you?”
“I’m…Vincent Crabbe,” said Dudley, though he was not as confident as Dean had been.
“Is that right?” asked the death eater skeptically. “Who are you visiting?”
“Him,” said Dudley, pointing at Lockhart, and trying to remember his name.
“No one ever visits Lockhart, boy, don’t lie,” said the death eater menacingly.
“I used to teach him!” announced Lockhart.
“Did he?” asked the death eater, turning on Dudley.
“Yes,” said Dudley. “Professor Lockhart was my favorite teacher. I brought him sweets, see?” Dudley held up the Skiving Snackbox as evidence.
“Where did you go to school?” he asked, still not convinced.
“Well, Hogwarts,” said Dudley.
“Alright,” said the death eater. “I’m sure you’ve heard all the trouble outside. Some dumb Muggle-lovers out there, so you just stay in this room. I need to call for back-up.”
Oh no, thought Dudley. Dean, Mrs. Longbottom, and Hestia had their hands full without the back-up. He tried to think of an idea to stop this guy. His first instinct was to throw him in a head-lock, but Dudley only held the advantage in the Muggle World. Then, he remembered the Skiving Snackbox in his hand.
“Would you like a sweet?” he offered, opening the shiny, red and gold striped box.
“Let me guess,” offered the death eater, “Lockhart won’t eat them because he’s ‘worried about his figure’?”
Dudley nodded and the death eater scoffed. “Well, I don’t want to put them to waste,” he said, and took one of the two-toned sweets. He popped the whole thing in his mouth, and just a few seconds later, fell to the floor unconscious.
“Blimey!” Dudley exclaimed. He glanced at the chart on the inside of the box that explained what each sweet did, and assumed that this was a Fainting Fancy. He wasn’t sure how long the spell would last, because he had eaten both sides of the sweet in one bite, and tried to hurry the Longbottoms out of the wing.
They were nearly at the door when Mrs. Longbottom ran inside. She looked curiously at Dudley for a moment, then at the death eater who had just started stirring on the floor and Frank and Alice who were walking toward her. She gave Dudley an approving nod, something which Dudley guessed she didn’t give often, and rushed Frank and Alice outside.
The hallway was a mess, littered with death eaters who were either unconscious, disfigured, or seemed to have a binding jinx on them. Hestia and Dean were each still fighting a death eater. Dean dodged a flash of green light, then stunned his rival square in the chest and turned to help Hestia. He blocked a spell that nearly hit her, which gave her a chance to send a web of ropes at the death eater.
She turned to Dudley and said, “That was almost as satisfying as when I used that spell on your father!”
Dudley laughed in spite of himself, and they piled into the lift. They were all injured from the battle, though not badly. Mrs. Longbottom had lost her hat and had a tear in her cloak that was stained with blood. Hestia had a cut on her forehead that was bleeding badly, but she pointed her wand at it, whispered something indistinguishable, and the blood flow stopped. Dean was limping badly, but Dudley couldn’t see why beneath the cloak. If they weren’t in a hospital, their injuries would have been very conspicuous.
Everyone was nervous when the doors opened onto the ground floor. However, the reception area looked normal, so they walked casually out toward the exit.
“Where’s Dedalus?” whispered Hestia.
“I don’t know. He should have been right here,” said Mrs. Longbottom. She was ahead of everyone, leading Frank and Alice to the door.
“We saw him earlier,” said Dean. “Some death eaters asked him questions because he was trying to get our attention.”
“Alright, you all get out of here. I’ll find him,” said Hestia.
“No, I’ll—” Dean started.
He stopped when Dedalus ran past them, firing shots at several death eaters who were chasing him.
“You all, leave now!” Hestia said as she jumped in to help Dedalus.
Mrs. Longbottom was the only one to listen, leading Frank and Alice outside. Dean jumped into the fight with Hestia and Dedalus, as did at least ten more death eaters who were standing guard in the reception area. Dudley stood awkwardly between the exit and the battle, unsure of what to do.
“Hestia! Dean! What are you doing?” asked Dedalus.
“We’re helping you!” shouted Hestia. “Someone had to get you out of this mess!”
“It wasn’t a mess, though! I’m the distraction, remember?” said Dedalus.
“Oh yeah, and what was your plan for getting out of the distraction?” asked Hestia.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. “Just get closer to the exit! They can’t follow us out; there are too many Muggles.”
“Dudley, get outside and we’ll meet you there!” shouted Dean.
Dudley started to leave, when he heard a loud thud from where Dean had been standing. He turned and saw Dean on the ground, unconscious. He quickly ran to Dean, narrowly missing being stunned himself, and threw Dean’s thin body over his shoulder. He ran back to the exit to the street in front of Purges and Dowse Ltd.
He was surprised to find everything so average outside, after the chaos he’d just escaped inside. However, unlike before, when none of the Muggles had noticed him and Dean, they caught everyone’s attention.
No one had seen Dudley walk through the store window, but they questioned why he was carrying a bloody, unconscious boy on his shoulder. Strangers were shouting at him from all directions, some offering medical advice, and a few wondering whether he had beaten Dean up. Dudley appreciated the irony in the fact that most people were telling him to get to a hospital, when they’d just come from one and had been in more danger there.
Dudley was saved when Hestia and Dedalus burst from the store window beside him.
“Back to the house, Dedalus! I’ll take them!” shouted Hestia. “Dudley, hold onto him.” She grabbed Dudley’s wrist in one hand and Dean’s limp arm in the other, and, in front of the whole crowd of confused Muggles, Apparated out of the street.
End Notes:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I finished it a lot quicker than average because of all of your wonderful reviews, especially one from Jess (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor) that really put me in the mood to write! Thanks guys, and let me know what you think about this chapter! P.S. if you think they're out of danger for now, you're wrong!
Mrs. Longbottom's Experiment by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes:
It has been forever and I can't apologize enough! At least I'm getting it in before a year has passed (barely). I hope the wait was worth it, and thanks for everyone who hasn't abandoned my story yet! I'm still not JK Rowling.
When the gut-wrenching feeling of Apparition passed, Dudley found himself in the field in front of the Longbottom house.
“Run!” shouted Hestia.
Dudley wasn’t sure why they had to run but he obeyed, still carrying Dean over his shoulder. When a bolt of red light narrowly missed hitting him, he looked back to see Hestia and Dedalus battling another wizard. Dudley didn’t even take the time to question where the wizard had come from; he just kept running.
When he got to the porch, his mum threw open the door and yelled, “Dudley! My Ickle Diddykins! You’re safe!”
Dudley ran past her and set Dean on the couch in the parlor. “Mum, get some water, please!” He was glad to see that Dean was still breathing, despite being unconscious, and started shaking him.
“Dudley, what in the bloody hell did you think—”
“A little busy here, lecture me later, dad,” snapped Dudley. He was sure his father’s face turned dark purple then, but he was too concerned with Dean being unconscious and the battle outside to care.
Petunia came back in the room with a glass of water, which Dudley threw on Dean’s face like they did in the movies, but Dean didn’t move.
“Where did you disappear to? What’s wrong with Dean? Why is there a man out in the field?” asked Petunia frantically, barely pausing between each word.
“I don’t know. I think he was hit by a stunning spell,” said Dudley.
“What about the man?” grumbled Vernon. “Why was he waiting for you?”
That caught Dudley’s attention. “Waiting? What do you mean ‘waiting for us’?”
“He showed up just after you all disappeared to Who-Knows-Where! He’s been standing out there in the field ever since. Made your mum and me ill with worry! And of course those two idiots who were supposed to protect us were gone again!” The shouting seemed to be doing Vernon some good; the color of his cheeks had gone from deep purple to dark red.
“I thought he’d followed us from the hospital,” said Dudley, more to himself than his parents. “How did he know we were here?”
Dudley wandered back to the front door; almost forgetting about Dean. Outside, Hestia and Dedalus were no longer fighting the other wizard. He seemed to be in a binding hex on the ground, and Hestia held her wand at him threateningly. Dudley walked clumsily across the grassy field to them.
“You should be back in the house, Dudley!” Hestia shouted before he was even halfway there. “Is Dean okay?”
“He’s unconscious, but breathing,” said Dudley. “Do you know where this guy came from?”
“He must have grabbed onto one of us outside of St. Mungo’s and Apparated with us,” said Dedalus.
“No, he didn’t,” said Dudley. “My parents said he’s been out here the whole time we were gone.”
Hestia’s eyes widened in alarm briefly before she turned around and scanned the empty field around the Longbottom home. “Inside, now!” she ordered. She pointed her wand at the wizard and performed some sort of spell that made him stand up. They marched quickly back to the house.
“Dedalus, is he going to be able to get back into the house through the protections?” asked Hestia as they walked up the porch steps.
“I believe so,” said Dedalus. “Augusta performed the protections differently this time, after all the trouble we had last time.”
Sure enough, the hooded wizard was able to pass into the house without trouble. Vernon’s shouts came roaring from the parlor as soon as the front door shut. “You people can’t stay and do your bloody job for a single day! You keep running off, roping my son into your dangerous missions, bringing bloody, unconscious boys into the house—though he probably deserved whatever he got for associating with your lot! And the whole time you were gone, there was some man running around out—THAT’S HIM! You brought him in the house! Are you on his side? You two are betraying us, aren’t you? I always knew there—”
Vernon’s voice was suddenly cut off. Though his mouth was still moving—even more angrily with each passing, silent second—no sound passed from his lips.
Dudley looked back at Hestia with raised eyebrows. “Did I do that?” she asked, with a smirk. “Oops. Where’s Dean?”
Dudley, remembering his unconscious friend, pointed to the parlor.
Hestia went into the room, pointed her wand and said “Reenervate!”
Dean woke with a start. He blinked several times, grabbed his shoulder (Dudley guessed this was where he’d been hit with the spell), and muttered, “Why am I all wet?”
“Oh, well I tried waking you up by throwing water at you,” said Dudley.
“You thought that would counter a Stunning Spell?” asked Dean, chuckling. “You’ve been watching the Muggle tele too much.”
“Are you okay?” asked Dudley.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Dean offhandedly. Then he glanced around the house and noticed the extra guest. “What did I miss?”
“Just a small battle in St. Mungo’s, a hoard of confused Muggles outside, and a snatcher waiting outside the house,” said Hestia with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
A loud thud from the doorway brought their attention momentarily to Vernon, who was banging his fist against the wall and jumping up and down like a child to get everyone’s attention.
“Would you quit it before I put you in a binding hex with this guy?” Hestia threatened, motioning to the snatcher. “Damn it, it’s impossible to have a bloody conversation around this clot!”
Vernon stopped beating the wall, but kept his menacing gaze on Hestia.
“What are we going to do about the snatcher?” asked Dedalus.
“We’re going to play a little game with him,” said Hestia maliciously. Once again, she waved her wand at the man and he followed her down the stairs to the basement. Dedalus followed them, closing the door behind him.
“What’s a snatcher?” asked Dudley.
“They’re You-Know-Who’s wanna-be-death-eater thugs,” Dean explained. “They go around looking for Muggle-borns and Blood Traitors to turn into You-Know-Who for a reward.”
“So they’re who you’ve been running from?” asked Dudley.
“Yes,” said Dean. “It’s nice to see one of them scared of us for a change.”
“What do you think Hestia will do to him?”
“She’s just going to interrogate him. She won’t torture him or anything—I don’t think.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Dudley joked.
Dean laughed and stood up. “I’m going to find something to eat. Want anything?”
“No, thanks.” Dudley glanced back at his silent parents. “Oh, are you able to take the spell off my dad, though?”
“Sure,” said Dean. He pointed his wand and muttered a spell under his breath, then walked into the kitchen.
“Dudley,” said Vernon, in a high pitched voice that made him cover his mouth in embarrassment, his face morphing from purple to crimson. “My voice—why is it—why do I sound like a girl?”
“Sorry Mr. Dursley,” shouted Dean from the kitchen. “I’m not very good at that spell, but when Hestia and Dedalus come back, they can get your voice back to normal.”
“Not very good at the spell!” Vernon squeaked. “You could have killed me, aiming that bloody stick and not knowing what you’re doing with it!”
Dudley forced himself not to laugh; his father wasn’t as intimidating as usual with the voice of an eight-year-old girl. “Dad, Hestia or Dedalus can fix it when they’re done dealing with the snatcher.”
“Oh, the snatcher!” Vernon stretched his body to its full height to seem more threatening. “That man skulking out there in his leather jacket and combat boots and red bandana on his arm, like he’s in some kind of gang, and they’re not here to fight him, running off with you to some battle at St. Mugwap’s, whatever the hell that is, coming back with that injured kid like nothing’s wrong, and bringing in the punk from outside and taking him downstairs, probably to plot something against us! What are we doing trusting these freaks? We’re better off marching right out of here and going off on our own. Go, get your things and we’ll be gone before they get back with their bloody accomplice!”
Vernon started like he was going to march upstairs, before he realized neither Dudley nor Petunia was following him.
“What are you waiting on? We don’t have much time,” he squealed.
“Dad, we can’t leave. There are probably more snatchers outside. Plus, you need to wait for Hestia and Dedalus. You don’t want to be stuck with a little girl’s voice the rest of your life.”
“How dare you talk to your father that way!” Vernon squealed.
Dudley glanced away to keep from laughing, and noticed his mother on the couch, covering her mouth to hide her giggles.
“I’m not leaving, dad, and, if it comes to it, I’ll wrestle you to keep you from leaving too. You know I’ll win.”
Vernon’s jaw dropped, and he looked to Petunia for support. “Are you laughing at me?” he asked.
“No,” Petunia said, between breaths, “of course—not.”
Vernon groaned shrilly and plodded up the steps, slamming his door when he finally made it to his room.
Petunia and Dudley looked at one another when he was safely in his room, and burst out laughing. “I’m never going to forget that voice!” Dudley exclaimed. “That was brilliant!”
“I really shouldn’t be laughing at him,” Petunia giggled. “I’ll bet he’s upstairs practicing making his voice lower.”
“I’ll bet Hestia won’t fix his voice for a few hours after she comes back, just for fun,” Dudley joked.
They laughed for a moment longer, then Petunia became more serious. “Dudley, you really are growing up.”
“Oh, err…thanks, mum.”
“I’m serious, Duddy, you’ve become much more independent in the past few months, and for a while, I’ve been trusting more in your opinions that your father’s. You’ve been put in a difficult situation and you’re dealing with it better than I could ever have imagined.”
“To be honest, mum, it’s been the best experience of my life,” Dudley said. “I’ve learned so much, and not the boring stuff we learn in school, but about real life and this whole new world—and Harry, who I lived with but never even took the time to realize was an incredible person. I don’t know if you have realized that yet, mum. He’s saved so many lives, putting himself in danger, and now he’s still fighting. We’ve treated him terribly his whole life, but he’s still done all of this to make sure we’ll be okay.”
“I’ve started to realize that too, Dudley,” admitted Petunia sadly. “I wish I’d taken the chance to get to know Harry. After pushing away your Aunt Lily, the least I could have done was to make up for it through her son.”
“It’s okay, mum. Better to figure that out now than never.”
“Do you think that you could tell me what you’ve learned about Harry—about his life? I want to know now, but I’ve been too afraid to ask.”
“Of course, mum, that would be great,” said Dudley. “Where should—?”
“That grimey snatcher thinks he’s the one with the advantage,” Hestia ranted, interrupting them as she and Dedalus came back upstairs, “well, he’s wrong, and he’ll learn it soon enough.”
“He’s just playing us,” Dedalus said. “He knows we’re in the Order and we can’t torture him for information, so he doesn’t have anything to worry about.”
“Can’t torture him? I may bloody well torture him if he keeps on about this!”
Dudley was concerned by how serious Hestia sounded. Of course, she was always very strong and terrifying if you weren’t on her side, but she was starting to look scary even to Dudley.
“Hestia,” Dedalus chided. “He will break if we give him time. You know the rules.”
“Rules, rules, rules, when I get him alone rules won’t make a bloody hell of a difference, will they?”
“Hestia, this is not an issue I will yield on,” said Dedalus confidently, lacking his usual awkward stutter that came with conflict.
Hestia seemed too taken aback to say anything.
Dudley hesitated before interjecting. “What did you learn?”
“His snatcher gang has been watching the field ever since the taboo was triggered, but they’re unable to see the house because of Augusta’s enchantments,” Dedalus explained.
“We’re okay, then, right?” asked Dudley nervously. “If they can’t see us, what’s the big deal?”
“We’re okay, but they’re holding an Order member’s father captive,” said Dedalus. “They think they’ll be able to use him to lure us out.”
“What are you going to do about it?” asked Dudley.
“Nothing, yet,” said Dedalus. Dudley noticed that Hestia glared at him after this answer. “He hasn’t given us enough information to know what we’d be getting ourselves into.”
“We would know if we—”
“That’s not an option,” Dedalus interrupted.
“But it’s Tonks’ father!”
“I’m not going down to their level!” Dedalus argued. “Not while I have another option left.”
“What allows you to make that decision? We’re a team.”
“But I was put in charge of the team, so I’ll have the final say. We’re not harming him.”
“Fine. When you and your little snatcher friend are done chatting, let me know what the plan is,” Hestia snapped, before walking upstairs.
Dedalus left Dudley and Petunia alone in the living room, and Dudley was excited to tell her everything he’d learned about Harry.
“I don’t know where to start the story,” said Dudley.
“Why not from the beginning?” asked Petunia. “What do you know about before Harry came to us?”
“Well, Hestia and Dedalus told me all about the Vol— I guess I should call him You-Know-Who because of the snatchers—and the war that was going on when Harry was a baby,” said Dudley. “I’ll start there.”
Dudley told Petunia everything he knew, from Voldemort being a student at Hogwarts to his war against Muggle-borns and Blood Traitors. Petunia listened attentively, never stopping to ask a question, leaning forward in her chair toward Dudley as if to better hear him.
When Dudley came to the time when Voldemort killed James and Lily, Petunia changed. She leaned back in her chair, looked away from Dudley to the window, and put her hand over her eyes.
“Mum, do you want me to stop?” asked Dudley.
“No,” she said, after a pause. “Keep going. I need to know.”
“Okay, mum.” Dudley hesitated.
Petunia looked back to him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, and urged him on with a wave of her hand.
Dudley continued the story. He too stared out the window, unable to watch his mother become upset.
As Dudley moved into the stories he’d heard of Harry in his early years at Hogwarts, the conversation was more light hearted and Petunia once again leaned forward to hear the story better.
He was just telling Petunia that Sirius Black, the escaped criminal they’d seen on the tele so long ago, was actually an escaped wizard and Harry’s Godfather when the front door opened and Mrs. Longbottom walked in.
She looked into the parlor where Petunia and Dudley were talking, unaware that she was interrupting anything, and scolded Dudley.
“You’re one crazy boy to follow us into St. Mungo’s!”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Longbottom, but I didn’t mean to,” admitted Dudley. “I accidentally Side-Apparated with Dean.
“Well, at least you’re okay,” she said. “Everyone else is alright too, I imagine?”
“Yes, we are, but—” Dudley was about to tell her about the snatchers, but she cut him off.
“Good, then I have an experiment for you,” she said. She walked to a trunk in the corner of the parlor and dug for a moment, pulling out a long, thin wooden box.
“This belonged to my son’s wife, Alice,” she said. “Nine inches, holly with a dragon’s heart string at the core.” She held it out delicately toward Dudley, opening the box in front of him.
Dudley studied the wand, unsure why she was showing him. “It’s very nice,” he said awkwardly.
“It’s yours,” she said.
“Mine?” asked Dudley curiously. “What use do I have with a wand?”
“That’s where the experiment comes in,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “Why don’t you try giving it a wave?”
End Notes:
Let me know what you thought of it! Don't worry, the wait won't be as long this time!
Why Duh Ya Harve A Rand, Doodley? by Ghoul In Pajamas
“That’s where the experiment comes in,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “Why don’t you try giving it a wave?”
“Mrs. Longbottom, I don’t know what you think is going to happen,” said Dudley hesitantly. “The wand’s not going to work for me.”
“Just wave it,” she said sternly.
Dudley took the wand from the box Mrs. Longbottom was holding out to him, delicately holding the stem, hoping he was facing it the correct direction. He mimicked the swishing motion he’d seen Dedalus use in spells, rather than the aggressive slash that Hestia tended to.
He wasn’t surprised when nothing happened.
Mrs. Longbottom looked disappointed, but she said, “You have to feel it!”
“Feel what?” asked Dudley. “I’m a Muggle. What am I supposed to feel? This is nothing more than a twig when I’m holding it.”
“But you’re not a Muggle,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “You couldn’t be.”
“Of course he’s a Muggle,” said Petunia, but without the haughty tone she would have used several months earlier. “He never displayed any of the signs when he was a boy.”
“Maybe they were subtle,” offered Mrs. Longbottom. “Maybe you just missed them. We didn’t see any signs from Neville until he was almost old enough to go to Hogwarts; we were sure he was a Squib.”
“I was watching for the signs,” Petunia argued. “I saw it happening to my sister when we were kids, and then I saw Harry go through it as well. I was terrified Dudley would turn out to be a wizard.”
“Well, signs or not, he’s a wizard,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “I suspected it since the day you came here and the house sealed before Dedalus had gone inside. Then the wizard’s chess game and St. Mungo’s proved it.”
“How did they prove that?” asked Dudley.
“But”that, that just doesn’t make sense,” said Petunia. “I would have known!”
“I thought my Neville was a squib for the longest time,” challenged Mrs. Longbottom. “He didn’t show signs for years after most wizards do.”
“What’s a squib?” asked Dudley.
“Someone wizard-born with no powers,” she said. “Dudley is a wizard, whether you like it or not!”
“But he waved the wand and nothing happened.”
Mrs. Longbottom turned to Dudley. “Dudley, do you believe that you are a wizard?”
Dudley didn’t know how to respond. Too much information was coming at him too quickly, and he stared blankly at Mrs. Longbottom for a moment. He was faintly aware that his mother was nosily peering over Mrs. Longbottom’s giant moth-eaten hat but he was too afraid to look her in the eyes.
“I”I don’t know what to think,” said Dudley. “It’s just out of nowhere.”
“Would you try trusting it for a moment?” asked Mrs. Longbottom, in a caring tone he’d never seen and which was slightly unnerving coming from her. “Just believe in it.”
Dudley looked down at the thin piece of wood in his right hand and imagined for a moment that he could use it, performing all of the amazing spells he’d seen from Hestia, Dedalus, and Dean, fighting death eaters, Apparating to new places, and even simply for household chores. He thought back to Harry, using it against the dementors that night that seemed so long ago. He’d never considered that he may one day do those things as well.
The wand twitched slightly”so slightly that only Dudley noticed”between his fingers as if yearning, after years of being stowed away in a trunk, to show what it could do. Dudley took a deep breath and twisted his wrist in a circle, putting all of his heart into the wish that Mrs. Longbottom, crazy as she seemed, might actually be right.
Dudley felt a tingling surge of power travel through his right arm and throughout his body, then back out through the wand, as sparks flew out of the tip like miniature fireworks. He couldn’t tell whether he was smiling broadly or his jaw was hanging open in shock, because he felt like he should be doing both simultaneously.
Mrs. Longbottom stuck her chin out proudly and gloated, “I knew it.”
“But how”?” asked Dudley, still perplexed.
“Magic is known to act in strange ways,” she said. “You’ll soon begin to realize that.”
Dudley looked behind Mrs. Longbottom to his mother, who had her hands clasped over her mouth and tears in her eyes. The smile disappeared from his face and he looked at the floor, ashamed.
“Mum, I’m sorry,” he said.
Mrs. Longbottom turned around and, noticing Petunia’s expression, stiffened her back angrily. “Dudley, your magic is a wonderful thing,” she said sternly. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“What are you apologizing for?” asked Petunia, ignoring Mrs. Longbottom.
“For disappointing you,” he said. “I know you must hate that your son is a wizard.”
“Oh, Dudders, I’m not disappointed in you,” said Petunia, moving to sit beside him. “I think this is incredible!”
“But you hate magic,” Dudley argued.
“No, I was jealous because I didn’t have it,” said Petunia. “I let that jealousy consume me for so long that it became hate, in a way, but I’ve realized over the past few months how untrue that is.”
“Really?” asked Dudley. He knew his mum wanted to be a witch when she was a child, but he thought that had changed.
“Really,” she said firmly. “Dudley, I’m happy for you. And even though I wasn’t a witch, I’m proud that I was given some trace of magic to pass onto you.”
“Thanks, mum.”
Petunia gave Dudley a hug and Dudley could feel the wetness on his back from her tears. “Mum, don’t cry””
Dean came out of the kitchen door with a sandwich and glass of milk. “Mrs. Longbottom, you’re back,” he said. “Did everything go well?”
“Yes, Frank and Alice are all set in the Salem Hospital.”
Dean sat on the couch, taking a big bite of his sandwich and nodding his approval. He looked over at Dudley and said, “Why duh ya harve a rand, Doodley?”
Dudley furrowed his eyebrows, having caught none of what Dean said through his full mouth. Dean pointed at the wand, and Dudley realized. “Well, um,” Dudley avoided the question nervously. “Apparently, I’m a wizard.”
Dean swallowed his sandwich. “Yeah, right.”
“He is,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “Show him, Dudley.”
Dudley, feeling a little silly, waved the wand again to make little fireworks. Dean, who had just taken a gulp of milk, spit a stream of milk across the coffee table.
“No bloody way!” he exclaimed, jumping up and wiping the milk that was dribbling down his chin. “Sorry, Mrs. Longbottom, I’ll clean this up right away.” Dean rushed into the kitchen to find a rag, screaming up the stairs as he went, “Dudley’s a bloody wizard!” and again, when he walked into the kitchen, “Dedalus, Dudley’s a wizard!”
Dean came out with the rag, Dedalus right behind him, his top hat looking as if it was about to fall off because of all the excitement. Dean cleaned up the mess, practically jumping off the walls with excitement. “Show them, Dudley! Show them!”
Hestia had come downstairs, having heard the excitement, and cheered Dudley on enthusiastically as he made more fireworks, though he was beginning to feel like a circus act.
“Mrs. Longbottom,” Dudley said suddenly, “you never told me how you knew.”
“The first clue was when my spell on the house, to only let two wizards inside, was broken before Dedalus could get inside,” she said. “That could have been any of the three of you, though I counted your father out very quickly. I kept watching for clues, and then a few weeks ago you and Dean said you’d been playing Wizard’s Chess. But Wizard’s Chess is impossible for Muggles to play; the pieces won’t trust your directions. Then, when I saw you in St. Mungo’s, I knew for sure. St. Mungo’s has enchantments surrounding it which don’t allow Muggles to see it or walk into it. On the rare occasion when a Muggle needs to be brought in for treatment, the security team closes the Muggle street that is the entrance to St. Mungo’s and temporarily removes the enchantments. Though you never displayed any magical outbursts like children usually do, all the signs were there.”
“So why didn’t I show the signs when I was a kid?” asked Dudley. “And why didn’t I get a letter from Hogwarts like Harry?”
“I’ve never heard of someone to show their magic so late, Dudley, so I can only guess. But, after seeing the way your father acts about magic, I would assume that he suppressed the magic in you by being so against it. You were raised in a house where magic was not acceptable, and it affected you deeply enough to hold back that magic. But Dedalus and Hestia changed your opinion about it, and helped bring it out.”
Dedalus stood up straighter with a proud grin.
“But Harry grew up in the same house,” argued Dudley. “Why wasn’t his magic suppressed too?”
“From what I’ve heard from Neville,” Mrs. Longbottom said, “Harry never felt like he belonged with your family. He wanted something more and the magic presented itself as something that made him different from your family and eventually the thing that allowed him to leave your family when he went to Hogwarts. If anything, growing up in that environment only made the magic stronger.”
“Who’s wand is that?” Hestia asked.
“It was Alice’s.”
“Do you think it will work for him?” Hestia asked. “It hasn’t chosen him, and he hasn’t won it. It might not work right.”
“It’s the only one we have,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “Plus, wands work in strange ways sometimes. Neville helped save Alice from St. Mungo’s today, and this wand may know that.”
Dudley thought that over for a minute, trying to choose what question to ask, but was interrupted by Dean. “So what lesson would you like to start with?”
“What?”
“Well, you’re not just going to make sparks with your wand for the rest of your life,” said Dean. “You may have missed out on Hogwarts, but you’ve got us!”
“Oh!” said Dudley. “I don’t even know what lessons there are. I don’t know where to begin.”
“He should start with learning to cast a shield,” said Dean. “Then he can protect himself against death eaters until he learns to fight.”
“He won’t be able to perform a shield yet,” Hestia argued. “He has to learn the basics.”
“We could start with teaching him to turn needles into matchsticks,” suggested Dedalus.
“What good is that going to do him in a battle?” asked Hestia. “He needs to start with the basics of fighting, not the basics of transfiguration.”
“Transfiguration can be used in battle,” said Dedalus. “I once turned a death eater into a goat. Then he charged me so I turned him into a toad.”
“Sounds like you should have made him a toad in the first place,” Dean suggested.
“Transfiguration can be used in battle, but only when you are very advanced,” Hestia said. “We need to teach him the things that will benefit him the most in the least amount of time.”
“In my first year, the first thing we learned was levitation,” Dean said. “That’s a good way to start learning wand motions.”
“I agree,” said Hestia. “We need something light to practice with.”
“We used feathers,” said Dean.
“I’ve got one of those!” Mrs. Longbottom reached to her head and pulled a curly pink feather out of her monstrous hat and handed it to Dudley, who was feeling overwhelmed. He followed Hestia, Dedalus, and Dean into the dining room, where they decided they would hold his lessons.
It was already past midnight, but they jumped into the lesson enthusiastically. Dudley was excited but nervous, especially when he realized how much more difficult magic would be. It was not just a matter of pointing the wand and shouting something unintelligible.
“You’re not holding the wand right, that’s the problem.”
“No, he’s holding it fine, he just isn’t flicking it enough.”
“No, the swish is too broad; he needs to tighten it up.”
Dudley was getting input from Hestia, Dedalus, and Dean and couldn’t process all of the conflicting advice. The lesson was making him sleepy but the others only seemed more energized as the night went on.
“Emphasize the “gar” in Wingardium, then you’ll get it.”
“No, the Wingardium is fine, it’s Leviosa he needs to work on.”
“That’s not what I learned; I’ve been taught more recently so I should know the correct way.”
“No, we have more experience,” argued Hestia.
“No, I have the most experience!” said Dedalus. “I learned this before either of you were born.”
Dudley set the wand down and stretched his arm, which was cramping from being held up so long. He yawned widely as all three turned to stare at him.
“What?” he asked defensively. “I’m tired.”
“It is late,” Dedalus admitted.
“And today’s been very busy,” said Hestia. “Why don’t we pick this up after everyone’s gotten some sleep?”
Dudley plodded slowly up the three flights of stairs to the attic room he and Dean were sharing, wondering whether he might just fall asleep on the landing. He couldn’t believe that so much had happened in one day; that day alone had been more eventful than the busiest month of his life. He’d accidentally Apparated to St. Mungo’s, helped rescue Frank and Alice Longbottom, battled Death Eaters, been discovered by a Snatcher who was now held captive in the basement, spent hours telling his mum stories, and, on top of all that, discovered that he was a wizard.
He made it to his room and dropped immediately onto the cot; the bed was more comfortable, but the cot was closer to the door, and Dudley thought he would have been able to fall asleep anywhere tonight. He set his new wand on the floor beside the cot and fell asleep within the minute.
End Notes:
Thank you for reading and commenting and emailing me! I love hearing what you have to say about each chapter! This is the chapter I've most been looking forward to since the beginning so I hope you enjoyed it! :)
Magic Lessons by Ghoul In Pajamas
Author's Notes:
Again, so sorry about how long this update took! Also sorry if you received about 8,000 emails a day for the last couple weeks saying that it was updated. Mugglenet was having some technical issues and the computer wouldn't let them validate the chapter, but it was still sending notices to everyone. Weird, but the chapter is here now! I hope you enjoy it!
On the night he learned he was a wizard, Dudley’s sleep was riddled with dreams of magic. He dreamt that he was marching through the halls of Smeltings, bullying his usual victims with a flick of the wrist rather than the usual headlock. Later, he dreamt of Harry yelling at him, –You’re not a wizard!†while he battled Voldemort.
His last dream before he woke up was of his father, his purple face bloated and sweating, as he shouted incessantly. –You can’t be a wizard! Not my son!â€
Then his mum appeared in the dream, pleading, –but he is your son! He’s our Duddykins!â€
As Petunia pleaded, Vernon’s body slowly disappeared as his head swelled in size; soon, he was nothing more than an enormous floating face. –This is all your fault!†the big purple blob screamed at Petunia. –He got this from your freak family!â€
–He’s our son!†Petunia sobbed.
–He’s YOUR son!†screamed the blob.
Dudley awoke so suddenly from the dream that he nearly rolled out of the tiny cot. Dean was snoring on the other side of the dark room. Dudley could see a small stream of red-orange light peeking through the curtains. He felt exhausted, but the dream had shaken him too much to fall back asleep.
With a sudden urgency, Dudley leapt out of the cot and rushed out of the room and down the steps. He hoped no one had told his dad the news yet. He didn’t know how he could keep it from him, but he couldn’t stand the idea of him finding out. Dudley peered into the dining room and saw his mother and father eating breakfast silently.
–Morning, mum. Morning, dad,†he said, entering the room nervously.
–Morning, Duddy,†said Petunia, smiling warmly.
Vernon grunted through a mouthful of eggs.
Dudley looked to Petunia and raised his eyebrows questioningly. She shook her head discreetly.
A loud crash from the kitchen surprised Dudley, and he realized he needed to tell everyone else if he wanted to keep the secret from his dad.
–Ruddy idiots,†Vernon grumbled gruffly. Someone must have returned his voice to normal; Vernon sounded like a high-pitched schoolgirl the last time Dudley heard him talk.
Dudley found Mrs. Longbottom and Dedalus in the kitchen. Mrs. Longbottom was making a pot of tea as Dedalus fumbled to pick up pots and pans from the floor.
–Good morning, Dudley,†said Mrs. Longbottom. –I hear you had a little lesson last night.â€
–Er, yeah, I did. Good morning,†he said quickly. –Do you think you could do me a favor?â€
–What is it?â€
–Well, I was wondering, er, hoping,†Dudley stuttered. –See I’m really excited, but things are already really tense around here and I just want to be careful not to cause any more problems, and-â€
–You don’t want your father to know that you’re a wizard,†interrupted Mrs. Longbottom. This was a statement, not a question, but Dudley nodded anyway.
–You should never let another person make you feel ashamed of who you are,†said Mrs. Longbottom. –He may be your father but what you have is a gift. You should be proud.â€
–I know and I’m happy about it,†said Dudley, feeling sorry for even asking them to keep the secret. –My dad is already so unbearable. I don’t want to give him a reason to act even worse. Maybe if we can just keep it a secret until we’re back to our normal life in Little Whinging, he would handle it better.â€
–You do realize, Dudley, that your life will never go back to normal,†said Dedalus, in a serious tone unfamiliar to Dudley.
This stumped Dudley for a moment. In all the excitement of learning that he was a wizard, he had only thought of all the cool things he could do with magic. Until now, he hadn’t considered the things he now wouldn’t do. He wouldn’t fit in in Little Whinging anymore, or with his old friends. It had been hard enough to keep magic a secret from them when Harry was at Hogwarts, but he did so because he was embarrassed. But he couldn’t keep such a big secret and still be good friends with them.
He realized he had no idea how he would fit into the Wizarding World either. He had never been the best student even in Muggle schools; how could he make it in a world where he had never even taken a single class relevant to his new life.
–I guess not,†he said absently, pulling himself from his thoughts when he realized Dedalus and Mrs. Longbottom were still waiting for his response. –But let’s just not put my dad even further over the edge. We all have to be around him, after all.â€
–It’s your choice, Dudley,†said Mrs. Longbottom. –But I’m not treating him like a blubbering child like you lot. He’s an adult and as long as he is in my house, I expect him to act like one.â€
–Thank you,†said Dudley. He was about to ask where Hestia was when she threw the kitchen door open and began filling her breakfast plate rather aggressively.
–So no luck with the Snatcher?â€
–No, he won’t say anything,†she grumbled. –Certainly not without any inspiration.â€
Dedalus looked at her crossly.
–I doubt there’s much to learn from him,†said Mrs. Longbottom. –He doesn’t have a Dark Mark; he’s just in it for the money.â€
–Wouldn’t you like to know how he found your house?â€
–Of course I would, but not at the expense of losing my head,†answered Mrs. Longbottom coolly. –I’ve already sent an Owl to the Order requesting someone to pick him up.â€
Hestia did not seem happy, but she remained silent nonetheless.
–Well I think we have much more exciting business than worrying over the Snatcher,†said Dedalus, in an obvious attempt to change the conversation. –Dudley here will be taking his lessons.â€
–Yes, and in a more organized fashion than last night,†said Hestia. –I think we overwhelmed him a bit last night.â€
–No, it wasn’t so bad. I was-†Dudley started, but stopped midsentence as his dad stomped into the room.
–You what?†asked Hestia, ignoring Vernon’s entrance completely.
–I-I,†Dudley stuttered. He hadn’t yet told Hestia not to say anything to Vernon. He glanced nervously at his father, who was spooning sausages onto his second plate of eggs.
Hestia caught the direction of Dudley’s gaze and said, without the slightest attempt at subtlety, –Oh, I understand.†She tilted her head slightly for a moment, then said, –It is probably for the best. For now, anyway.â€
Dudley’s eyes were bugging out of his head at Hestia’s careless attitude, but Vernon was too busy ladling sausage grease over his toast to notice.
Hestia rolled her eyes. –Is Dean awake yet? We have a busy day.â€
Mrs. Longbottom flicked her wand lightly toward the ceiling and said, –he’ll be down in a minute.â€
Vernon had already disappeared upstairs when Dudley followed Mrs. Longbottom, Hestia, Dedalus, and Dean into the sitting room half an hour later. Having agreed that several people attempting to teach Dudley the same lesson was not effective, they decided to divide the lessons between them.
Dean started by listing all the classes at Hogwarts. Dudley looked hungrily at the list, curious about what each of these classes would have been like in a school. Defense Against the Dark Arts stood out to him most, as he imagined himself fighting Death Eaters and dementors. Other names, such as Divination and Ancient Runes, were completely foreign to him.
–I think we need to cross all of these classes off but Defense Against the Dark Arts,†suggested Hestia. –That’s what he needs to learn now.â€
–Cross off most of the skills?†asked Dedalus, surprised. –But some of the skills learned in other classes are necessary in advanced Defense.â€
–He’ll have plenty of time to learn everything later. Right now, we just need to teach a few skills that can keep him alive, in case there is some emergency.â€
–But he needs some basic understanding of the other classes,†said Dean. –Like Charms, if you don’t learn some of the basics it will make other things harder later on.â€
–I find transfiguration highly useful in a fight,†suggested Mrs. Longbottom.
Hestia sighed, realizing that she would be out-voted. –Which classes can we get rid of?â€
–I think we can all agree to cross Herbology off the list,†suggested Dedalus. –I doubt he’ll be fighting off any venomous tentacula in the near future.â€
–Get rid of Ancient Runes.â€
–He definitely doesn’t need Muggle Studies.â€
And so it went until they had narrowed the lessons down to only three classes: Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Dean would be teaching Charms, while Dedalus taught Transfiguration. Hestia would teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, helped by Mrs. Longbottom.
–That means it’s my turn,†said Dean, once they had settled on the teaching assignments. –He needs to master Wingardium Leviosa! before we start something else.â€
–I agree,†said Hestia. –I’d like to plan my lessons before I begin, anyway.â€
–Let’s go back into the dining room,†suggested Dean. –I think we left the feather in there.â€
Dean reviewed the theory behind the levitation charm again, then let Dudley try to magically raise the feather. He tried over and over again-swish and flick, swish and flick-listening to Dean’s advice.
Dudley was glad to be learning from Dean first. It was easier to focus with only one person giving instructions, and he felt less pressure working with someone his own age. After an hour, the feather had done nothing but twitch slightly. Though Dean had gotten very excited at this, Dudley was unsure whether it had been due to magic or a slight draft.
–Why don’t we take a break and make some tea,†Dean suggested.
–Yeah,†said Dudley, standing up. –I didn’t realize it would be so hard. You all make it look so easy.â€
–Trust me, mate, I know,†Dean laughed, as they walked into the kitchen. –When I found out I was a Wizard, I thought I’d get my wand and magically make the West Ham Football team the next day. It doesn’t work that way, but you’ll get there.â€
Dudley laughed. –I just want to get this spell, just to prove to myself I can do something.â€
–At least you haven’t set it on fire,†said Dean, laughing. Dudley raised an eyebrow. –My best friend, Seamus, set his feather on fire when we were first years. Someone had to put it out with their hat,†he said, laughing even harder at the old memory. –Seamus did that a lot, come to think of it.â€
They quickly forgot about tea; Dean was too busy telling Dudley about all the things Seamus had blown up. Fifteen minutes later, they walked back to the dining room in a much lighter room.
–Swish and flick,†Dudley whispered to himself as he began the charm once again. –Wingardium Leviosa!†This time, the feather definitely twitched: it was not a draft. Dudley tried again, and again, and after several more tries, the feather seemed to float several centimeters above the table for a few seconds before drifting back down again.
–Yeah! Do it again!†encouraged Dean.
–Wingardium Leviosa!â€
The feather floated up again, this time going slightly higher and staying up slightly longer. Dudley raised the feather in the air over and over again, until he could keep it in the air as long as he wanted and had even learned how to steer it around.
Twenty minutes later, Dudley and Dean peered around the corner of the sitting room door as Dudley directed a floating feather to land on Dedalus’ top hat.
Hestia saw it first and began laughing. Dedalus turned around quickly and knocked off his top hat, though the feather still floated above him.
–You did it!†he exclaimed, looking up at the feather bouncing above his bald head.
–You did it with style, too†said Mrs. Longbottom approvingly.
–I guess that means it’s my turn for a lesson,†said Hestia, unrolling a piece of parchment that was beside her on the couch. –I have it all planned.â€
–Give the boy a break at least,†said Dedalus as he replaced the top hat onto his head.
–No, I’m ready now!†exclaimed Dudley eagerly. The rush of performing magic for the first time made him want to keep going.
–Let’s get down to business then,†said Hestia, standing and following Dudley back to the dining room. She sat across from Dudley and waited for him to get settled, looking very serious.
–If you were an ordinary wizard starting your education at Hogwarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be one of many classes,†she began, sounding as though she had rehearsed this speech. –However, under the strange circumstances, and given the current climate in the Wizarding World, learning to defend yourself will be the most important thing for you to learn and master.â€
Dudley shifted in his chair, trying not to look as nervous as he suddenly felt.
–Though a Hogwarts DADA class would discuss all kinds of dark magic, including dark creatures and dangerous beasts, I am going to focus on what you need to know if you happen upon some Death Eaters or snatchers. The first spell you will be learning is the Knockback Jinx. It’s exactly as it sounds; the jinx will knock back the person or object you direct it at. While this spell won’t stop or disarm your attacker, it will slow them down and possibly give you a chance to escape.â€
Dudley listened raptly as Hestia explained the spell to him. It sounded much more complicated than the Levitation Charm, but he was excited to learn something that could help him defend himself.
–But theory only goes so far,†said Hestia, standing. –You need to see it done. Let’s go outside.â€
–Outside?†asked Dudley. –Are we allowed outside?â€
–Yes, the magical enchantments start a little ways out from the house. We just can’t go too far,†said Hestia, then, quietly and almost to herself, –I wonder if Dean will let me jinx him.â€
Dudley followed her as she marched purposefully into the hallway, calling –Hey Dean!â€
Surprisingly, Dean agreed, after Hestia promised she wouldn’t perform a full-strength Knockback jinx.
–I can’t believe you’re letting her jinx you,†said Dudley, as he and Dean walked outside. –Won’t it hurt?â€
–No, it won’t be so bad,†he said casually. –We used to jinx and disarm each other all the time in the D.A.â€
–The D.A? Was that a class?†asked Dudley, who didn’t remember it from Dean’s list that morning.
–No. Well, kind of,†said Dean. –Our fifth year, we had the worst Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The Ministry swore You-Know-Who wasn’t back and thought Dumbledore was training an army and they kept passing educational decrees so we had to secretly-†Dean stopped, catching Dudley’s confused expression. –Well, it’s a long story, but we weren’t learning anything from her, so Harry formed a club and taught us. He was a better teacher than most of our other DADA teachers were, actually. He’s the one who taught me to Stun and Disarm and even cast a Patronus.â€
–Wow,†said Dudley, once again awed at a new side of Harry he’d never known.
Hestia appeared on the porch, levitating a dozen pillows before her. She set them down and said –Engorgio!†to enlarge the pillows to six times their original size.
–Come stand beside me,†she said to Dudley, while Dean stood in front of the oversized pillows.
–Watch me carefully, Dudley,†Hestia ordered. –Ready, Dean?†He nodded, and Hestia drew her wand, flicked it at Dean, and said, –Flipendo!â€
Dean’s body was flung backward, as though he’d been punched hard in the chest, and landed heavily in the pile of pillows.
–Whoa,†said Dudley, thinking briefly of his bullying dream. –Is Dean okay?â€
–He’s fine,†said Hestia dismissively.
Dean crawled out from the mass of pillows and stood, rubbing his chest gingerly. –You said you’d perform it at half-strength!†he called to Hestia.
–That was half-strength!†she called back, then turned back to Dudley. –Okay, now it’s your turn. You paid attention, didn’t you?â€
–Er, yeah, I paid attention,†said Dudley uncertainly, feeling uncomfortable about hitting Dean with a spell.
–Good,†said Hestia. –Of course you won’t be starting with Dean. It’ll take a bit of practice before you’re ready to jinx a person.†She walked over to the pillows and returned one of them to its original size, then brought it to Dudley. –You’ll practice on this first.â€
Dudley nodded, focused intently on the pillow in front of him, and raised his wand in preparation to perform his second spell.
End Notes:
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! Don't worry, the next chapter will be along shortly. It's already written and I'm just in the editing stages now!
A Christmas Visit by Ghoul In Pajamas
Hello! Make sure you’ve read the most recent chapter before reading this one! Mugglenet was having some technical issues a few months ago and I think a lot of my readers missed the update because of that. Either way, here’s this chapter! Enjoy!
Over the next month, Dudley’s magical skills progressed extensively, as he continued daily lessons. He had completely foregone all of his Muggle schoolwork since discovering he was a Wizard. In fact, he was so focused on his magic lessons that he hardly remembered the Muggle World existed at all.
He had never been so excited about learning in his life; he even practiced through the weekends and breaks in order to learn as much as he could. Before long, Dudley had mastered not only the levitation charm and the Knockback Jinx, but also Lumos, Nox,, and the Tongue-Tying Curse. He was becoming very good at Disarming and had just begun learning a Shield Charm, but had not yet been able to block a spell with Protego.
They had ceased most of their outdoor lessons, as it had become quite cold outside; however, some lessons were too destructive to be held indoors. They had gone outside to practice Expelliarmus, after a demonstration had resulted in Dean’s wand flying across the hall and shattering one of Mrs. Longbottom’s garish sculptures. Hestia had quickly repaired the sculpture with a wave of her wand, but thought it best to avoid any further damage.
His magic lessons were a good change of pace for everyone, as they all had something to be excited about. Dean and Dedalus cheered Dudley enthusiastically each time he learned a new skill, Hestia no longer complained that she hadn’t joined the Order to babysit, and Mrs. Longbottom, who lived alone except for Hogwarts holidays, seemed happy to have company. Even Petunia, who had hardly spoken for months, was joining conversation with the witches and wizards, returning to her gossiping ways as she learned about the big names in the Wizarding World.
They had also been getting very heavily into the Christmas spirit, which lightened everyone’s mood but Vernon’s. Though Vernon had always enjoyed Christmas—especially during the last six holidays when Harry stayed at school—he was not happy about it this year. Mrs. Longbottom could talk of little else than her grandson, Neville, who would be coming home on the Hogwarts Express for the holidays. In addition to his wariness that an additional wizard even further outnumbered them, Vernon didn’t approve of Neville’s leading a rebellion at school, constantly grumbling that he was some trouble-making hoodlum.
Vernon also disapproved highly of the decorations, as they had been hung using magic. Luckily, he had only seen Hestia shooting garland from the tip of her wand, and hadn’t noticed Dudley performing a Levitation Charm to hang ornaments on the tree.
Thus far, they had managed to keep the secret from Vernon, who spent most of his time in his room since, as he put it, this lot had turned his family against him. There had been several close-calls though – Vernon had to come downstairs for meals, after all. Once, while Hestia was teaching him the Bat-Bogey Hex, Dudley only just managed to hide his wand under the table as Vernon came in. Another time, Dedalus was giving a lesson and Vernon walked in and caught them talking about the spell in detail. –Why would you be teaching my son that?†he had thundered, though eventually Dedalus convinced him he had been speaking hypothetically.
The closest call came when Vernon came downstairs to find Dudley in the middle of casting a leg-locker jinx on Dean, wand held aloft. As anyone could have imagined, Vernon blew up, while Dudley tried to convince him that Dean had dropped it and Dudley was just handing it back to him. –You shouldn’t even touch one of those evil things!†Vernon had shouted, as Dudley walked over to Dean and handed him the wand. Dean, who couldn’t move for the leg-locker curse, smiled back at Vernon coolly, leaning against the wall for support. Vernon grumbled for another moment before going into the kitchen.
Dudley and Dean were sitting in the parlor one morning practicing an Engorging Charm when a silver light streaked by in the foyer. Recognizing the Patronus, they jumped from their chairs and followed it into the kitchen, where they just missed the message it had carried, as the white light disappeared.
–What happened?†asked Dean quickly.
–The Order’s coming this afternoon to pick up the Snatcher, finally,†said Mrs. Longbottom. She had become quite unhappy that the man had been locked in her basement for so long.
–Great!†said Dean excitedly. Dudley thought Dean’s excitement was for Mrs. Longbottom’s sake. –Excuse me,†he said, leaving the room suddenly.
–What will they do with him?†asked Dudley.
–Word is they’ve worked out some deal with his gang,†said Hestia. –They have Ted Tonks, one of the Order member’s dads, in custody. Normally they would have turned him over to the Ministry by now for their gold, but I guess something’s stopping them.â€
–What do you mean, something’s stopping them?â€
–I don’t know, Dudley,†she said. –It’s for security. We each only know what we need to know. That way if someone gets captured, they can’t tell all of the Order’s secrets.â€
Dudley nodded, still curious about what would happen to the Snatcher. He had become almost a second Taboo in the house, in addition to Voldemort’s name. No one wanted to talk about him: Dedalus and Hestia were tense because they had disagreed on how to handle him, Mrs. Longbottom was bitter that he was still in her house, and everyone else was afraid to mention him. It would be refreshing for him to be gone.
Dudley walked back to the parlor, expecting to find Dean, but he was gone. Dudley looked in every room downstairs, and even out on the porch, though it was freezing outside, but he was nowhere to be found. He glanced at the door to the basement-they had just been talking about the Snatcher-but the door was locked.
He walked up the three flights of stairs to the attic bedroom he and Dean shared. Dean had his backpack out on his bed and was packing his few possessions inside it roughly. He stopped when he saw Dudley at the door.
–Er…you going somewhere?†asked Dudley.
–I don’t know,†said Dean awkwardly. –I hope so. I was planning on talking to whatever Order member shows up, see if I can join. I’d like a chance to do something other than run and hide.†He looked embarrassed.
–That’s brilliant,†said Dudley. He hoped he sounded sincere; his first thought was that he didn’t want Dean to go, now that he finally had a friend his age. He wouldn’t say this to Dean, though.
–I might just make a fool of myself,†he said. –I’ve already asked Hestia and Dedalus to take me with them to a meeting, or at least mention me to someone in the Order, so they know I want to help, but they won’t do it.â€
–Why not?†Dudley was surprised. Hestia and Dedalus always made it sound as though the Order needed all the help it could get.
–They say the Order won’t let me in because I didn’t finish Hogwarts,†said Dean bitterly. –That’s bloody crap though if you ask me. I’m of age, and it’s not like I had the choice to go back to Hogwarts this year anyway!†He threw a pair of socks rather violently into his backpack.
–Well maybe whoever comes today will think you can help,†said Dudley encouragingly.
–That’s what I’m hoping,†said Dean. –Hey, don’t say anything to anyone else, will you? I don’t want them to try and stop me.â€
–Our secret,†said Dudley, as he left Dean to finish packing.
Dean came back downstairs a few minutes later, hiding the backpack behind him as he peeked around the corner. When he saw that Dudley was alone in the parlor, he quickly shoved the backpack under a chair. They spent the rest of the morning continuing to practice the charm and did not bring up Dean’s plan again. By the time a knock came on the front door, Dudley had been able to produce a dim blue light on the end of his wand, but hadn’t made the thimble he was practicing on any larger.
They stood up and walked into the foyer, where Mrs. Longbottom had opened the door to a graying man whose clothes were covered in rips and patches.
–Remus,†said Mrs. Longbottom, her wand raised. –Tell me about the first time you met my grandson.â€
–I was asleep on the Hogwarts Express, in the same compartment with several students, including Mr. Longbottom, when a dementor came in looking for Sirius Black. I drove the dementor away and gave the students chocolates.â€
–Yes, exactly,†said Mrs. Longbottom approvingly, as if the man had just passed a test. Then, Dudley realized, it had been a test; the Order members always asked questions to verify identities.
–Professor Lupin!†said Dean excitedly.
–Mr. Thomas, I didn’t expect to see you here,†he said, shaking Dean’s hand.
Just then, Hestia and Dedalus came into the foyer. –Remus, how are you?†said Hestia, hugging him. –How’s Tonks?â€
–Good. Everyone’s well, thank you, considering,†said Remus briefly. –I’m sorry to be short, but I do have to grab the Snatcher and run, unfortunately, so much to do.â€
–Of course,†said Hestia, –he’s in the basement, I’ll get him now.â€
–Professor Lupin,†said Dean as soon as Hestia had disappeared into the basement, –could I speak to you for a moment, please?â€
Everyone turned to Dean, Mrs. Longbottom with a surprised expression and Dedalus with one of understanding, but Professor Lupin nodded and followed him into the dining room. Dedalus looked as though he was about to follow them, but Dudley jumped in.
–Dedalus, I haven’t shown you my Engorgement Charm yet!†he said with fake excitement, hoping to distract Dedalus. He pulled his wand and the thimble out of his pocket and said –Engorgio!†His wand lit feebly for a moment before distinguishing, while the thimble remained the same exact size. Dudley looked up at Dedalus, embarrassed, but he was staring at the door to the dining room.
–Yes, yes, wonderful job!†said Dedalus. He clearly had not watched Dudley perform the charm, as it most certainly was not a ‘wonderful job.’
–What is going on?†demanded Mrs. Longbottom.
–I think the boy is trying to join the Order,†said Dedalus. –He told Hestia and me a few weeks ago he was interested.â€
–Well, good for him,†said Mrs. Longbottom approvingly.
–But he’s so young,†said Dedalus. –He hasn’t even finished Hogwarts.â€
–He’s of age, and he was trained by Harry Potter, like my Neville,†she said, as if this closed the matter. –And don’t forget, we may not have even made it out of St. Mungo’s without his help.â€
Dedalus seemed ready to argue further but Dean and Remus came back, Dean smiling broadly as he ran to the parlor and pulled his backpack out from under the chair.
–Looks like I’m taking more than just the Snatcher,†said Remus.
–Are you sure this is a good idea?†implored Dedalus.
–He knows what he’s getting into,†said Remus tersely. –If he wants to help the Order, we’re happy to have him.â€
–Thank you for everything, Mrs. Longbottom,†he said. –Tell Neville I said hi.â€
–You watch out for yourself, Dean,†she ordered, patting him on the shoulder in a surprising display of affection.
–Dudley, sorry I won’t be able to finish your lessons,†said Dean, shaking his hand.
–No worries,†said Dudley. –Stay safe.â€
Hestia came back upstairs with the Snatcher as Dean was saying goodbye to Dedalus and Petunia. –I see I’ve missed something,†she said. She looked at Dean crossly for a moment before passing the Snatcher to Remus and giving Dean a hug. –Sneaky boy, going over our heads.â€
–Sorry to break this up, but we really have to go,†said Remus. They both waved as they walked outside and Side-Apparated with the Snatcher to who-knows-where.
Two days later, Mrs. Longbottom Apparated to King’s Cross Station to meet Neville at the Hogwarts Express. Neville was not the short, round-faced boy Dudley had seen in the pictures. He was tall and carried himself awkwardly, as though he’d just grown several inches rapidly and didn’t know how to handle the new height yet. He had a large bandage over his left eye, but was smiling broadly as he and his grandmother walked into the house.
–Everyone, this is my grandson, Neville,†said Mrs. Longbottom, throwing her chest out proudly as she showed him off. –Neville, this is Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle of the Order. And this is Petunia Dursley and her son, Dudley. They’re Harry Potter’s aunt and nephew.†Not surprisingly, Vernon was nowhere to be seen.
Neville greeted and shook everyone’s hand. –Nice to meet you all,†he said.
–Your grandmother has been telling us all about you,†said Dedalus. –She’s very proud of you.â€
–Oh, well, great,†said Neville, sounding almost surprised as he looked at Mrs. Longbottom. He turned to the Dursleys. –You’re Harry’s family?†he asked. –I’m sorry, I don’t think I remember him talking about you.â€
Dudley almost laughed, as this wasn’t the first time he’d received this reaction.
–It’s very complicated,†Mrs. Longbottom explained. –They’re the Muggles who raised him. Except it turns out Dudley isn’t a Muggle, after all.†Neville scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.
–Also, Dudley’s father – you won’t see him unless there’s food on the table– doesn’t know that Dudley’s a Wizard, so we’re keeping it quiet,†said Hestia, further adding to the confusion.
–And you’ve just missed Dean Thomas,†added Mrs. Longbottom.
–Dean was here? Is he okay?â€
–Yes, he’s gone off to help the Order,†said Mrs. Longbottom.
–Oh, good,†said Neville. –Seamus has been worried about him. I’ll tell him after the holidays.â€
–Yes, now go get yourself unpacked and cleaned up,†said Mrs. Longbottom, pushing Neville toward the stairs. –We’ll be having a nice dinner tonight. Also, you’re sharing your room with Dudley, so don’t be surprised by the second bed.â€
Dudley went into the parlor and continued practicing his Engorgement Charm. He had improved on it since Dean left, managing to enlarge the thimble, but it always returned to its normal size a few seconds later. When he heard someone coming down the stairs, he hid his wand quickly between the sofa cushions, but a moment later it was Neville, not Vernon, who poked his head in.
–Oh, hey,†said Neville. –Sorry I didn’t mean to-â€
–No, I just- I was making sure you weren’t my dad,†said Dudley, pulling the wand back out.
Neville nodded, then stood in the doorway, as if he couldn’t decide whether to come in. Finally, the curiosity seemed to have gotten the best of him and he said, –So you used to think you were a Muggle?â€
–Well, yeah,†said Dudley. –You grandmother is the one who figured I was a Wizard, actually.â€
–And you’re learning now?†asked Neville curiously, walking into the room and taking a seat. –What spell are you working on?â€
–The Engorgement Charm,†said Dudley. –Dean started teaching me before he left but I just can’t really get it. Watch.†He pointed at the thimble and said, –Engorgio!†Once again, the thimble expanded for a few seconds and shrunk back down to its original size.
–Well, that’s close,†said Neville encouragingly, leaning forward. –Try it this way though: don’t point your wand right on top of it as you cast the charm, but give it a little space.†Neville drew his wand and pointed it at the thimble. –Engorgio!†A circle of blue light shot from the tip of Neville’s wand and expanded steadily, until it encased the thimble. Once the thimble was inside, the thimble grew too, until Neville let it go. –See, you let the charm grow a little before you try to include the thimble in it.â€
Neville then shrunk the thimble back to its original size. Dudley followed Neville’s directions and was successful on the first try, the thimble now large enough to fit on a giant’s finger.
–You did it!†said Neville.
–Thanks! I never would have tried doing it that way!â€
–So did Dean get to the Shrinking Charm?†asked Neville.
With Neville teaching him, Dudley managed to shrink the thimble back to size, and began Engorging and Shrinking various items around the room, until Hestia came to tell them dinner was ready. Neville and Dudley followed her into the kitchen, where they helped bring food into the dining room (Neville levitated the ham while Dudley carried the plate of potatoes, in case his dad showed up).
Mrs. Longbottom spent dinner filling Neville in on everything that had happened there (conveniently leaving out any reference to Dudley’s newfound magical powers), while Neville told everyone what was happening at Hogwarts. Though Mrs. Longbottom had already told them some of the details, based on what came in Neville’s letters, it was worse than Dudley had imagined. He had idealized Hogwarts as such an incredible, magical place, but it had become a nightmare under the rule of the Carrows.
Neville was optimistic though. –Luna Lovegood and Ernie MacMillan broke a couple of fourth-year Hufflepuffs out of detention last week. They were in trouble for not being able to cast the Cruciatus Curse, can you imagine?â€
–They’re teaching the Cruciatus Curse at Hogwarts?†asked Dedalus, scandalized.
–Yeah, it’s compulsory for third years and up,†said Neville gravely. –Third- through fifth-years learn it on bugs and animals, while sixth- and seventh-years have to do it on other students.â€
Dedalus and Hestia were too shocked to say anything.
–What’s the Cruciatus Curse?†asked Dudley, after a long silence. –I remember hearing it before.â€
–The torture curse,†said Neville. –It’s one of the Unforgiveable Curses. Unforgiveables used to mean life in Azkaban, before You-Know-Who took over.â€
–Dudley, it’s the one used on Frank and Alice,†said Mrs. Longbottom. Neville quickly looked at his plate. –That’s why you’ve heard of it.â€
–Oh, right,†said Dudley, wishing he hadn’t asked.
Vernon, who had barely acknowledged Neville when he introduced himself earlier and had remained silent throughout the dinner, stood suddenly, grumbled something about torture being indecent dinner conversation, and left.
–Isn’t he a pleasure?†asked Hestia loudly before Vernon was out of earshot.
Neville laughed and the mood lightened. The rest of the dinner had easier conversation, as they described Dudley’s magic lessons, laughed about how Dudley had accidentally Side-Apparated to St. Mungo’s with Dean, and complained about Vernon. By the end of the evening, Neville was completely caught up on how Dudley learned he was a Wizard and why no one was telling Vernon.
They walked upstairs to the attic for the night and, as they settled into their beds, Neville said, –Hey, Dudley.â€
–Yeah?â€
–Thanks for helping my mum and dad at St. Mungo’s.â€
Dudley tried to say something, but it caught it his throat, as he thought about how hard it would be for Neville, growing up without his parents. Despite how he’d been feeling about his father lately, Dudley couldn’t imagine his childhood without him.
–Don’t mention it,†said Dudley finally.
The Christmas Holiday passed quickly, as Neville happily took over the charms lessons. As much as Dudley had liked Dean, Neville was a far better teacher. Whenever Dudley had trouble with something, Dean would tell him to just keep trying; Neville would watch him carefully and explain how to improve it, and Dudley started picking charms up in no time.
Neville also started teaching him about Herbology. He was genuinely upset when the others explained that they weren’t teaching it because it wasn’t a top defense skill. –What do you mean, it’s not a good defense skill? How would you defend yourself if I threw a fully-grown Mandrake at you?â€
Dudley didn’t see the importance of Herbology either, and learning the names of plants reminded him of Muggle Biology class, but Neville was so excited that he never complained.
Two weeks later, Neville left for the Hogwarts Express. Dudley was sad to see him go; with both Dean and Neville gone, he would be alone again without someone his age. He had forgotten how important that was in the months they spent in Paris, but he knew he’d miss them.
Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this chapter! Did you enjoy Neville’s appearance? (I had to throw him in the story – I love Neville!) Let me know what you think of the direction the story is taking.
Vernon's Secret by Ghoul In Pajamas
–I’ve decided it’s time you learn to Stun,†said Hestia one day, as they sat down to what he expected would be a lesson on Hex Deflection.
–Already?†asked Dudley. –You said just a few days ago I wouldn’t be ready for that for at least a few weeks.â€
–Well, I’ve changed my mind,†said Hestia shortly. –Stunning is a highly advanced spell, but it is one of the best defenses if you are being attacked. I think you should get as much practice time as possible.†Dudley nodded, and she jumped into the explanation.
Two hours later, they stopped for lunch, and Dudley had gotten nowhere with the spell. He had tried several dozen times to Stun a small spider Hestia had captured, but the spider had not so much as played dead.
–I told you it wouldn’t be easy,†said Hestia. –This is a fifth-year spell, and you’re only a few months into your training. It’s incredible what you’ve been able to do so far. You’ll get this one too.â€
Dudley nodded, feeling awkward once again. Hestia, Dedalus, and Mrs. Longbottom wouldn’t stop telling him how surprised they were at how fast he was progressing. Dudley was embarrassed by all the praise, though he’d been praised his entire life by his parents for no reason. For the first time, he had something to truly be proud of, but all the attention made him feel uncomfortable.
Several hours later, while Hestia and Dedalus had gone to do an assignment for the Order, Dudley had taken the spider into the parlor to practice on his own, pointing his wand and saying, Stupefy! more times than he could count. Eventually, it seemed as though he was getting it. The faint, white light that he had been producing slowly turned into a pink, then red color, and the spider seemed to be moving more slowly around its cage. Dudley became more and more excited, until finally, a red light issued from his wand and the spider flew backward in its cage, slumped against the wall.
–Yeah!†he shouted, jumping from the couch and throwing his fist in the air. He heard a floorboard creak behind him and turned around to find the last person he wanted to see staring at him from the doorway. His father, shoulders slumped and mouth hanging open, looked at Dudley as though he was a stranger.
Dudley, hoping against all logic that Vernon hadn’t just seen that, slipped his wand behind his back and sheepishly said, –hey, dad.â€
Vernon just continued to stare at him expressionlessly, and Dudley thought that his father’s worst rage would have been more bearable than the silence now enveloping them.
–Dad, I, er…†Dudley started, but trailed off when he could think of nothing to say.
–I tried,†said Vernon, and his voice was so meek and helpless that Dudley was scared for him. –I tried to stop it.â€
–Dad?†asked Dudley quietly, confused.
–I tried, I did,†Vernon said, pleadingly, and Dudley had a vague sense that he wasn’t even speaking to him.
–Dad, what are you talking about?â€
–I tried to keep you from it,†said Vernon, and he looked so defeated that Dudley couldn’t help but feel badly for him. –For years, I was able to, but they finally got to you.â€
–Dad, they didn’t get to me,†said Dudley softly. –Harry got to me a few years ago. I changed my mind about magic after he saved my life, dad.â€
–No, no,†Vernon moaned, and he sat down heavily in a chair just inside the door.
–Yes, dad, he saved my life,†implored Dudley. –From the dementor.â€
–I kept it from you for years,†said Vernon. –I thought I stopped it.â€
–You’re not making any sense,†said Dudley.
–I thought when you didn’t go to that school, it would be over,†Vernon said, again seeming only vaguely aware that Dudley was in the room with him. –I thought that was it, but they still got to you.â€
Dudley stared at his father for a moment, looking so weak and defeated, as confused thoughts flew through his mind.
–What school?†said Dudley sternly.
Vernon looked up at him, seeming to have come out of his daze.
–Dad! What school?†Dudley shouted.
Vernon stood up suddenly and turned from the room.
–Dad!†called Dudley, running after him. –Dad, do you mean Hogwarts?â€
Vernon turned at the foot of the stairs, his face swollen and purple. –I thought I stopped it then. I thought it would just be Harry,†he said, shaking his head sadly, –I didn’t care about Harry. But not my son. Not my son.†He looked at Dudley sadly before turning and climbing the stairs, leaving Dudley behind him.
Dudley stared down at the wand in his hand, given to him by Mrs. Longbottom. Was I meant to go to Hogwarts, too, six years ago? he thought, his mind racing maddeningly. Should I have gotten my own wand then?
His mind made, Dudley thundered up the two flights of stairs to his parents’ bedroom, the blood boiling under his skin as he thought about all that his dad had taken from him. He shoved the door open and strode into his room, where his dad was packing his trunk. His mom jumped as Dudley rushed in, but he paid her no attention.
–You knew!†he shouted at his dad, pointing his wand at his throat threateningly, though his brain was hammering so heavily he couldn’t remember a single incantation. –YOU KNEW!â€
Vernon’s eyes bugged out of his head as he saw the wand turned on him. –You get that out of my face right now!†he said. –Put it down!â€
–Not until you tell me!†Dudley shouted. –Tell me everything!â€
–Get it out of my face!†Vernon shouted again, but Dudley wasn’t listening. –I’m leaving! I’m leaving this mad house right now! I’m the only sane one left!â€
–You can do whatever the bloody hell you want as soon as you tell me what you did!†Dudley shouted. –The Death Eaters and Snatchers can have you for all I care!â€
–Dudley!†Petunia shrieked from the corner.
–Tell me!†shouted Dudley, ignoring his mother and jerking the wand toward his father threateningly.
–Fine, I’ll tell you!†Vernon said. –But you put that down. I won’t say anything with it in my face.â€
Dudley nearly refused, but lowered his wand after a few seconds’ thought. Vernon eyed it nervously for a moment, then sat down on the bed and sighed.
–Six years ago, when Harry’s acceptance letter to that school came, it wasn’t, well, it wasn’t the first letter,†Vernon started. –A few days before that, someone had come to the house, someone from the school. He had two letters: one for Harry and, well, one for you. You were at the market with your mum and Harry, and I got rid of him, told him we wanted nothing to do with their kind and to take both of you off the list.â€
Dudley breathed heavily, trying to suppress his anger at this revelation. –Go on,†he said through clenched teeth.
–Well, I thought it was over,†continued Vernon, –until a few days later, when Harry went to get the mail and there was another letter for him. He wanted to read the letter, and you wanted to read the letter, and I wasn’t going to have it. I didn’t want either of you finding out. I didn’t want you asking questions.â€
–But there was only one letter,†Dudley said, –for Harry. They didn’t send another for me.â€
–Well, I had told the wizard we wanted nothing to do with it,†said Vernon. –I suppose that was enough to stop them sending you more letters: your parents were normal and I had said no, so they didn’t try anymore. But Harry’s parents were, you know, their kind, and I was only his uncle, so I guess that wasn’t good enough for them.â€
–Dudley had a letter, too?†asked Petunia weakly from the corner. –How could you keep that from me?â€
–I just," Vernon started weakly. "I didn’t want to upset you."
Petunia gave Vernon a look of complete disgust and walked out of the room without another word.
–So I should have gone to Hogwarts,†said Dudley. –I could have known years ago! I could have learned enough by now to protect us all, without needing the Order to be following us around the whole time!â€
–What difference does it make?†shouted Vernon, standing angrily again. –You wouldn’t have gone anyway! You mother and I wouldn’t have allowed it, and you wouldn’t have wanted to!â€
–Maybe if I’d known-â€
–Maybe if you’d known, what?†Vernon thundered, his face swollen and purple. –You thought Harry was a freak! You were embarrassed of him! You wouldn’t have wanted to become the same thing, not until these freaks brain-washed you!â€
–They’re not freaks!†shouted Dudley. –I’m not a freak! You’re just afraid!â€
–I’m not afraid of them!â€
Dudley raised his wand again, pointing it at his father. Vernon flinched and stepped backward, tripping over the bed and falling onto the mattress, all the time keeping his eyes trained on the thin piece of wood in his son’s hand.
–Not afraid, are you?†mocked Dudley. He shook his head angrily, then stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
He ran downstairs, hoping to get some privacy. He heard someone in the kitchen, so he went to the parlor and began pacing around the room angrily.
He should have gone to Hogwarts. All these months with the Order, as he listened jealously to the others speaking about the castle where they’d learned everything, he wished he had gotten the chance to go. And he did have the chance, but his father threw it all away. Dudley found himself resisting the urge to punch something, and he wished someone had taught him to magically repair things already, so that he could punch a wall or break a vase.
–You wouldn’t have gone to Hogwarts anyway!†his dad’s words resounded suddenly in his mind. Of course I would, he told himself, unconvincingly. He thought back to six years ago and tried to imagine how he would have reacted, had two letters arrived at Privet Drive, one with his name. He imagined his reaction if the huge man named Hagrid had wanted to take him from his parents that night at the Hut on the Sea. He would have been terrified: terrified of being different, of disappointing his parents, of what his friends would think. Would the excitement of magic have been enough to convince him to embrace it? He wanted to say yes, wanted to hate his father for keeping him from Hogwarts but, as horrible as he was, his father was right. He wouldn’t have gone to Hogwarts six years ago, letter or not.
Dudley fell back heavily in a chair, a lot of his anger escaping from him, as he realized that, six years ago, he was just as bad as his dad. He’d changed since then but, once upon a time, Dudley had blindly hated Wizards too.
He heard a great thundering noise coming from the stairway and looked toward the foyer. His dad had thrown his trunk down the stairs and was now kicking and shoving it toward the front door. Dudley sighed heavily, making a decision, and stood up.
–Dad, you’re not leaving,†he said, as Vernon reached the front door.
–I ruddy well am!†Vernon shouted back. He pulled his coat from the hanger by the door and wrapped himself in it.
–No, you’re not,†said Dudley calmly. –I won’t let you get hurt.â€
–What are you going to do?†asked Vernon, narrowing his eyes. –Use one of Hestia’s little tricks? Wrap ropes around me? Paralyze me?â€
–I don’t need magic to stop you,†said Dudley, setting his wand on a table. –I can still wrestle you to the ground with one hand behind my back.â€
Vernon raised his head haughtily and looked his son over. Then suddenly, he threw his trunk in Dudley’s path and ran from the house, as though escaping a kidnapper. Dudley leapt over the trunk and ran after his dad, wincing as he felt the sharp cold air.
He caught up to him quickly, just after Vernon reached the bottom of the porch steps. Dudley wrapped his big arm around Vernon’s neck and shoved him to the ground in one fluid motion. He held Vernon’s arms behind his back and yelled, –I told you you’re not going anywhere!â€
–Let me go!†Vernon mumbled, his face shoved in the snow.
–And where do you plan on going anyway?†asked Dudley. –You left your trunk, you don’t have a car, and it’s freezing outside. Do you even know where we are?â€
–Anywhere’s better than here!’
–Yeah, let a Death Eater kidnap you, and then we’ll see where you want to be,†said Dudley. He pulled his father to his feet, still holding his arms behind his back, and began marching him back into the house.
They were halfway up the steps, Vernon struggling violently but fruitlessly, when Dudley heard two cracks behind him. He turned around in alarm, but calmed down when he saw that it was Hestia and Dedalus.
–What are you two doing out here?†asked Hestia. –It’s freezing!â€
–He’s trying to run away,†said Dudley, still shoving his father up the stairs.
–He’s been threatening to run away twice a week for six months now,†said Hestia. –I’ll believe it when I see it.â€
–I am!†shouted Vernon. –I’m done with you lot!â€
–He saw me doing magic,†Dudley explained.
–Oh, didn’t take it well?†asked Dedalus.
–Well, no,†said Dudley, as he shoved Vernon through the front door.
–Dudley, now he knows you’re a Wizard, why are you still Muggle-wrestling him inside? A couple Knockback Jinxes would have gotten him inside with a lot less effort,†Hestia suggested, smirking.
–I don’t think using magic on him is the best way to make him calm down,†said Dudley.
–I am NOT calming down!†shouted Vernon. –This is kidnapping! You’re holding me here without my consent!â€
–If only we’d started practicing Stunning a few days ago, you could have used it on him by now,†said Hestia.
–What is all the noise out here?†demanded Mrs. Longbottom, appearing suddenly from the kitchen. She stopped and took in the scene before her: Vernon trying wrestle himself away from Dudley and Hestia laughing in the corner. –Not this again. I am an old woman and I do not have the patience for this.â€
She drew her wand and aimed it at Vernon, casting a full-body bind curse on him. He stopped struggling and Dudley let him fall heavily to the floor.
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