A Muggle-Style Beating
Harry was completely astonished. Draco Malfoy and his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, were walking down a street in Little Whinging, no more than a few blocks from Privet Drive. It seemed like a strange dream. Last summer Harry had been shocked to meet Dementors in Little Whinging but seeing Malfoy and his pet gorillas strut down the street was no less startling.
Immediately his adrenaline began to rush. Harry knew exactly what they had come for: revenge. Towards the end of the previous school year all three of their Death Eater-fathers had been sent to prison because of him.
Strangely enough though, Harry was almost glad to see them. After nearly a month of sitting indoors this would certainly break up the monotony. His eyes narrowed in anger as he reached for his wand; they weren’t the only ones who had lost someone at the Ministry two months ago…
The wand wasn’t there. Frantically, he searched his other pockets. Nothing. He suddenly remembered leaving it in the trunk next to his bed in Privet Drive.
He felt a small twinge of panic: How could he take on Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle without a wand? His mind worked furiously, trying to come up with a plan. They hadn’t seen him yet, but in a few more seconds they would turn the corner and he would be in plain view. They would definitely come at him then. Without a wand he didn’t have much hope of winning a fight; Crabbe and Goyle were still unpleasantly large for their age and Malfoy would be sure to play dirty. He could run…
As soon as the idea entered his head Harry felt disgusted with himself. Run? From Malfoy? He would rather get beaten up. Not sure what he would do when he got there, Harry took off for the confrontation. Wand or no wand, he wasn’t about to run like a coward, like a Slytherin.
He turned the corner and made a beeline straight for them. He got closer and closer. He could see them clearly now: Malfoy’s head was turned, looking at the houses around him; Crabbe was concentrating on his feet, apparently trying not to trip; and Goyle, as usual, seemed to be only remotely aware of what was going on around him. They still hadn’t seen Harry, despite the fact that he was directly in front of them. He was no more than 10 yards away now…
It was actually Goyle who spotted him first. Harry could see his brow furrow in confusion as he realized someone was walking towards them. Comprehension slowly broke upon his dull face when he realized it was Harry.
Arm pointing, face lit up with astonishment, he had just begun to alert the others when Harry broke in:
“If you’re looking for your father, Malfoy, he’s in Azkaban. You remember Azkaban… it’s a prison for people who are cowardly, slimy gits.”
Malfoy flinched horribly. Apparently he had been too busy looking at the Muggle neighbourhood in disgust to notice Harry had walked right up to him. He looked at him in supreme astonishment; he had planned on catching Harry by surprise, not the other way around.
Harry turned to Crabbe and Goyle before Malfoy could compose himself.
“Crabbe, Goyle, your dads are in Azkaban too. Although if they’re as slow as you two, they probably haven’t realized it yet.”
Crabbe had just figured out what was going on when Malfoy blurted out in a rage:
“I found you Potter! I’m here to show you what happens to Half-Bloods who meddle with the Dark Lo- with my fam- with the noble house of Malfoy!” He spluttered the words out.
Malfoy then began a rant that Harry found quite hard to follow. He noticed phrases about Pure-Bloods and cleansing the wizard race, but Malfoy was so furious he kept stumbling over his words, as if he had been rehearsing this speech for a while and wanted to get it right. It reminded Harry of a school play where the kid couldn’t get his lines right.
Harry savoured the moment before interrupting:
“Sorry to break up your little speech Malfoy, but your dad got exactly what he deserved. Now get out of here, the Muggles don’t like slime like you on their streets.”
“You’re dead Potter!” Malfoy spat, face trembling with rage. “I told you you’d pay for what you’ve done to my father, and now I’m here to do it!”
Harry wasn’t sure how he was going to get out of this one; he had never seen Malfoy so angry. And without his wand there wasn’t much hope. Unless…
It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only one he could come up with. Feeling he was about to be hexed into the ground, Harry suddenly threw his arms out and bared his chest to Malfoy.
“Go ahead then, curse me Malfoy!” Harry roared. “Do it! It would be worth it to see you expelled from Hogwarts. I reckon that git of a father of yours can’t bribe anyone from where he is. Go ahead!”
Malfoy immediately went for his wand. He was so mad he fumbled in his robes for a while.
Harry kicked himself mentally for leaving his wand behind: He could have had it out and cursed the whole lot of them by now.
Finally Malfoy whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at Harry’s chest, a triumphant look on his face. Harry looked into his eyes and realized something: Draco was waiting for him to show fear…it was his favourite weapon.
Instead, Harry grinned back with what he hoped was a good imitation of the grin he had seen on Sirius’s face whenever anything risky or particularly dangerous was mentioned. “Come on Malfoy, give me your worst!” he challenged.
Malfoy hesitated. The triumphant look on his face faded, although the sneer remained. Slowly he lowered his wand.
“No. No, I won’t give you the pleasure, Potter. I’m going to be around Hogwarts to the end, just to cause you misery.” He looked at Crabbe and Goyle who had been watching the whole time. Suddenly, he smiled.
“You know, we don’t need magic to have a little fun with you, Potter. I think Crabbe and Goyle here are anxious to give you a Muggle-style beating, in honour of your upbringing.” He smiled maliciously.
Crabbe and Goyle began to flex their arms, looking at Harry with dumb grins on their faces. As they moved forward, Harry clenched his fists, ready for the fight. He may be able to get in a couple good punches.
The pounding of heavy footsteps behind him made Harry spin around. Crabbe and Goyle halted mid flex. It was Dudley.
“Harry… please…come back home…Mum will be angry if you’re not there…” he panted as he stopped next to Harry. His face was bright red and dripped with sweat.
Harry was taken aback. He had never heard Dudley say please to anyone, much less him.
Malfoy’s sneering voice interrupted: “Who is this great lump of a Muggle?” he demanded of no one in particular.
Dudley looked up, just noticing the three strangers talking with Harry. “Who are they Harry?” he asked, puzzled.
“Ha! It’s one of Potter’s Muggle relatives!” Malfoy boomed. “He’s even bigger and stupider than the rest of the trash we’ve seen walking around here.” he remarked and received chuckles from Crabbe and Goyle. Harry found it ironic that Crabbe and Goyle would laugh at someone being called big and stupid. He looked at Dudley and noticed his jaw clench and his great, meaty hand form a fist. Dudley’s eyes quickly looked over the trio; he was sizing up Crabbe and Goyle.
“These are the biggest prats at my school, Dudley.”
Dudley stepped back, terrified.
“They’re…they’re…wizards?” He asked in a trembling voice. He instinctively started rubbing one hand over his rear end.
Malfoy, seeing the fear in Dudley’s plump face and his odd reaction at the mention of Harry’s school, caught on immediately. He stepped forward menacingly.
“That’s right, you great, lumbering oaf, I’m a wizard!” Malfoy drawled. “And if you don’t want me to give you a pig’s head to match that pig snout of yours, you’d better run back to your pig mother and let us deal with Potter.”
By pure luck Malfoy had said the exact thing most likely to petrify Dudley. The first time Dudley had ever encountered a wizard he had left with a curly pig’s tail coming out of his shorts. Whimpering, he took another step behind Harry, grabbing his arm in fright.
“Oh stop it, Dudley!” Harry said testily. They can’t use magic out of school, they’ll be expelled.” Harry suddenly felt Dudley’s grip on his arm loosen.
“They, they can’t use m-magic?” Dudley asked slowly.
“No! Now stop whinging like a baby.” Harry’s mind continued to race, trying to come up with a plan.
“Enough of this! Go on Crabbe, Goyle. Teach this Half-Blood and his filthy pet Muggle a lesson.” Malfoy sneered impatiently.
What happened next went by so fast that Harry hardly knew what had happened. Goyle, being the closest, suddenly lurched at Dudley and Harry. Dudley’s right arm bolted out in a quick, straight jab that caught Goyle right in the face. A split-second later he followed up with a thundering left hook that knocked Goyle off his feet. Goyle lay sprawled on the ground, out cold.
Harry, Crabbe and Malfoy watched in amazement as Dudley sprang into boxing mode. His large, meaty fists were raised in front of him and he began hopping back and forth, surprisingly agile for such a large person. He danced around Crabbe in a small half-circle, face screwed up in an intense scowl and watching his every move like a hawk.
Crabbe, completely bewildered, looked back at Malfoy for direction.
“What are you waiting for? Get him! He’s a Muggle!” Malfoy yelled.
Suddenly Dudley rushed in, caught Crabbe with two quick jabs to the face and then sprang nimbly away. Crabbe staggered back a couple steps, nose bleeding, then charged furiously at Dudley, who quickly sidestepped and landed another punch to the side of Crabbe’s fat face.
Harry couldn’t help but be impressed. Dudley was obviously a good fighter; maybe all that bragging he did had been true rather than a huge exaggeration. Crabbe, who had only ever picked on smaller wizards, was entirely at a loss on how to deal with a trained Muggle fighter. Dudley continued to dart in and out of Crabbe’s clumsy movements, landing punch after punch. It was enormously entertaining.
Harry took a quick glance at Malfoy, who was also watching Dudley in awe and amazement. It occurred to Harry that Malfoy, growing up in a Wizard family that despised Muggles, probably had no idea that anything like boxing existed. He just stood there gaping, that arrogant little sneer still on his face. Harry hated that sneer…
Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had launched himself at Malfoy. He saw Malfoy’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates before Harry’s fist smashed into his chin. Draco reeled backwards and Harry was on him in a flash. Pure rage took over: a month trapped in Privet Drive; Sirius’s death; the prophecy; 5 years of putting up with Malfoy- Harry let every frustration, anger and injustice he was feeling inside pour out on Malfoy like a thundering waterfall.
It was over in two minutes. Crabbe had run back down the street they had come from, crying. Goyle still lay unconscious on the ground in a spread-eagle. Several yards away was Malfoy, moaning and with blood coming from a deep gash on his chin. A black eye had begun to form on his pale face.
Harry watched Malfoy squirm on the ground as the exhilaration of the fight slowly evaporated. Inside he felt a deep satisfaction: his knee had been skinned pretty badly, his fists were bruised from repeated contact with Malfoy’s body, but he hadn’t felt so alive in months. He also noticed Malfoy’s wand lying on the ground not far from him. Harry took it.
Dudley was still breathing heavily. He looked at the crumpled form of Malfoy with cold anger on his face, his great chest swelling like a bellows with each breath.
Harry couldn’t help but look at Dudley with a newfound admiration. Watching him beat seven kinds of crap out of Crabbe and Goyle demanded it. Still exhilarated, he slapped Dudley on the back.
“That was brilliant, Dudley, brilliant! You really are amazing, you know that?”
“That skinny wimp insulted my mother." Dudley muttered. "Lucky for him you got to him first. I would have torn him apart.” Harry believed him.
Completely exhilarated and with the image of Crabbe bawling like a 5 year-old fresh in his mind, Harry couldn’t help but laugh. It had been a while since he had laughed, and it felt good. He couldn’t wait to tell Ron what had happened. The thought of Ron’s face when he heard the news made him laugh even harder.
Just then Harry heard a dog barking. It suddenly occurred to him that they had started a big fight in the middle of a residential area, people were bound to come out soon.
“Come on Dudley,” he said. “We better get going.” Dudley paused for a moment, giving Malfoy one last scowl, then turned and joined Harry. The two took off for Privet Drive.
“Hey Harry," Dudley muttered as they jogged towards Privet Drive.
“Yeah?”
“Good punch on blondie back there.”
"Thanks Dud."