–Pa... dma?â€
Dudley stared at the smiling girl in front of him, unable to make heads or tails of her strange multiple identity games. He felt that it would be ungracious to call her out in the middle of the pub, and yet...
–Twins!†he burst out, startling the poor bartender so badly that she dropped a bottle of mustard which splattered all down her front.
Stupid, he scolded himself feverishly, he was so stupid. How could he not have realized that this girl must be Parvati’s twin? Had Parvati mentioned that she had a twin at some point? Dudley really needed to start listening to her more closely. No! He would not listen at all. He would not see her again. On that he was resolved.
Wasn’t he.
Padma gave him an odd look and said, –Yes, I have a twin. How did you know?â€
–Oh, no, I didn’t mean that,†Dudley muttered. –I meant, er, twins in general.â€
Stupid.
–You’re a little peculiar,†Padma remarked.
Dudley’s cell phone rang, saving him from having to come up with an answer when he really felt that any extension of the current conversation would reflect poorly upon him.
–YES?†he barked into the phone, feeling a mixture of relief and exasperation at being diverted when his attention span was already so overextended.
–Watch your tone,†Vernon shouted from the other end of the line. –You had better get back here in short effing order, boy! Audrina was so upset when you left, she got in a funny way, wouldn’t say a word. Then this- this- this woman showed up. Rita Skeeter. One of that lot, I’d wager anything. Said she was looking for you.â€
Dudley’s heart skipped a beat.
–Well? Speak up, Dudley. Are you there? WELL?†Dudley could practically see his father’s face reddening; he could see the pulsing vein begin to stand out on his forehead.
Dudley took a deep breath. –I’m sorry, dad, but I can’t live with you anymore. I’ll see you at work. Say hi to mum for me.â€
He hung up and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with a sigh. Only then did it occur to him that he had no place to live anymore. He was officially homeless. He would likely end up sleeping in a box on a street corner and his ambitions to meet Batman would never be realized.
–In a bit of a bind, are you?†said Padma. She was looking with great curiosity at the pocket where he had placed his phone.
–You could say that.â€
–You know,†Padma continued, –Hannah, the landlady here is an old friend of mine. I’m sure I could get you a last minute room if you’d like.â€
–Here?†Dudley said with no small amount of trepidation. It was certainly out of the question. It was certainly... a tempting alternative. He really did not fancy trying to trade his shoes for a room in some fleabag motel. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet and observed that in his haste to leave home he had packed almost everything he might need-from torn up comic book pages to eight pairs of socks-except money. A lonely five pounds sat in his wallet, mocking him. Moreover it was Muggle money, and would not even buy him one drink in this place (Dudley flinched a little upon realizing that he was beginning to think in those terms).
Stupid.
Padma was waiting patiently for him to formulate an answer, apparently unperturbed by his long silence.
–I haven’t got any way of paying,†Dudley admitted.
Padma nodded in the direction of the bar and said, –During the war, there was a policy that if you couldn’t pay the full price you could stay the night so long as you left the room as clean as you found it. I’m sure I could appeal to her to reinstate that rule for one night. Besides,†she added, pointing at Dudley’s tie, –that tie clip looks like solid gold. Is it?â€
Dudley hedged a little inwardly, but his father had sounded more angry than distressed on the phone. There was no reason to believe that Rita Skeeter would actually harm his family. He nodded, making a mental note that all witches talked a great deal about this war that had taken place, and wondering whether wars were a frequent thing in the wizarding world.
–Well then you do have a way of paying,†Padma declared happily.
The conversation that followed between Padma and the bartender sent Dudley’s head spinning into a frenzy of confusion that felt all too common now that he had begun spending time with wizards and witches. So, rather than attempting to intervene on his own behalf, Dudley remained seated, with no watch, no tie clip, and no idea how he had managed to get himself into this situation when only this afternoon he had been on his way home expecting a warm meal and a quiet evening of solitary brooding.
The bartender smiled over at Dudley, which he took as a good sign. She had a sad smile, and Dudley wondered whether something had happened during the war they all talked about to make her look so sad. The thought of actually asking her was ridiculous: that was the kind of namby-pamby thing Harry would have done. Then again, Dudley knew, deep down, that he wished he had more in common with Harry.
–Come on,†Padma called, and Dudley rose to face the unknown that awaited him.
***
Parvati Patil sat in her microscopic cubicle in the department of Muggle Liaison, the last one left at work once again. It was well past ten in the evening, but her boss had asked her to stay late to work on some trifling file to do with a hysterical old Muggle woman in Scotland who claimed to have spotted a werewolf wielding a sword. And when Wakanda asked you to stay late, she was really ordering you to stay late.
She stuffed the file in her briefcase to make room on her desk, and laid her head down for just a moment so that she could close her eyes and clear her head. The case made no sense, but then neither had the Grunnings assignment, or the one before that wherein she had spent hours each day listening to a group of London schoolteachers insisting that little green men from outer space were stealing their fountain pens.
Abruptly, however, an inkling of a connection formed in her mind between localized disturbances near Hogsmead which the Daily Prophet had recently reported, and the story about the werewolf.
–Patil!â€
Parvati’s head snapped up at the high-pitched screech and she struggled to sit upright in her chair as Wakanda glared at her from the cubicle’s edge.
–Mrs. Phillips, I’ve had an idea-†Parvati began, but her boss cut her off.
–I was not aware that it was such a hardship for you to remain awake while you are working, Miss Patil.â€
–I’m sorry, I wasn’t actually sleeping, I was just thinking,†Parvati said.
Wakanda laughed. –I don’t pay you to think, I pay you to work, don’t I?
–Well, you hardly pay me at all,†Parvati muttered under her breath.
–What was that?†Wakanda asked sharply.
Parvati took a deep, calming breath. –Mrs. Phillips, I think the assignment you’ve given me may have a very important-â€
–That assignment will be reassigned tomorrow,†Wakanda snapped. Her eyes flashed with vindictive pleasure. –To someone with the inclination to perform actual work. Good evening, Miss Patil.â€
She turned on her heel and left Parvati sitting alone, fuming. After a full thirty seconds, Parvati jumped to her feet, gathered her coat and a few of the personal effects on her desk, and strode out into the dark hallway. She walked directly to the lift at a brisk pace, stopping only long enough to pop her head into her boss’s vast, handsome office.
–Wakanda,†she said clearly, –I quit.â€
The thunderstruck look on Wakanda’s face was worth the anxiety Parvati felt as she entered the lift and left the Ministry a million times over.
Once outside Parvati stopped to catch her breath and stuff her favorite quill into her briefcase, and that was when she realized that she still had the werewolf file in her possession.
–Oh Merlin, do I dare?†she breathed.
If Lavender had been there, she would have encouraged her, Parvati reflected.
And so, hoping with all her might that the Daily Prophet offices on Charing Cross Road would still be open, Parvati began to run down the street.
***
Dudley sat on a musty bed in his room on the top floor of the Leaky Cauldron Inn, unable to even attempt sleep while there might be a dragon or Lord knew what else next door. The noise drifting through the wall definitely resembled growling.
–Mental,†Dudley muttered, shaking his head.
–You’re the one talking to himself,†a voice replied.
Dudley whipped around with his fists raised, ready to fight whatever invisible intruder might have snuck their way into his room. Could wizards make themselves invisible? Three years ago when Harry had left Privet Drive for the last time Dudley had faked a violent fit of nausea after a few blocks so that Dedalus Bungle would allow his father would stop the car, and while his mother had fussed extensively over him he had squinted in the direction of the house, unable to explain to himself why he so badly wanted to see Harry leave, to say goodbye to his cousin one more time. On that occasion he was quite certain he had seen dark, human-shaped figures streak across the sky. So if wizards could fly, surely they could also vanish from sight.
–Over here, genius,†the voice continued.
It was the mirror by the window.
Dudley uttered a little yelp; he could not help himself. The mirror chuckled.
–What-†Dudley stammered. –What-is-this?â€
–I believe learned folks would refer to this as a conversation,†the mirror replied, its tone dripping sarcasm.
There was especially no way Dudley was going to get any rest with a talking mirror looming over him all night. He rose, unhooked the abomination from its place on the wall, and carried it to the other end of the room.
–What are you doing? Put me down!†the mirror protested. Ignoring it, Dudley strained to lower it to the ground without breaking the glass, for who knew what would happen in the event that he smashed a talking mirror? Would that count as... as murder? Dudley shook his head incredulously.
–... you got it?†a low voice drifted through the wall, barely audible over the growling from the other end of the room.
–Yes,†a gruff voice, almost like a growl, replied. –The half-breed oaf nearly caught me at the edge of the grounds, but I got it.â€
There was a pause, and Dudley pressed his ear against the wall in a bout of instinctive curiosity.
–Well?†said the first voice.
The second laughed derisively. –You ain’t going anywhere near it yet, Scabior. It stays with me for safekeeping.â€
–You’ll have to hand it over when the time comes for the wed-â€
There was a loud thump followed by a scuffle, and the second man said, –Don’t speak out loud of the plan. You never know when there might be ears around us.â€
There was silence after that, and Dudley pulled his ear away from the wall, puzzling over what he had overheard. By any account it sounded like nothing more than an argument between acquaintances over some shared possession. Yet all day he had been reminding himself to keep his wits about him, and he had an ominous, niggling feeling in the back of his mind that the conversation he had just heard did not bode well. Sitting on his bed, Dudley resolved to mention it to Hermione the next time he saw her. It was likely that she would have some complicated, long-winded explanation.
–Nosy, are we?†the mirror called from across the room.
–Shove off,†Dudley snapped at it, realizing a split second later that he was speaking to a mirror. Every time he thought he had gotten his head wrapped around magic, he received some new shock that sent his mind reeling.
And the mirror was not done with him.
–Good luck getting to sleep muttering to yourself all night,†it said in a snide voice.
Surprisingly however, once night wore on and the growling nearby had slowed to a dull rumble, Dudley found that he was able to drift into sleep. Peaceful, dreamless sleep.
His awakening, on the other hand, was not so very peaceful. He could hear the gentle tap-tap-tap of his mother’s shoes against the kitchen tiles as she prepared kippers and eggs, but before long the tapping grew more insistent, and the smell of breakfast became more akin to something he had smelled in the predators’ cages once when he had gone to the zoo. Opening his eyes and sitting up abruptly, Dudley was overwhelmed with a sense of panic at the unfamiliar surroundings before the memory of the previous night came flooding back.
Honestly, part of him had hoped that it had all been a dream.
Tap tap tap.
Dudley looked up at the window for the source of the noise, pinching his nose to avoid the smell coming from the room with the dragon-or-whatever-it-was, and saw a fully grown owl attempting to get inside.
–I don’t believe this,†he said gloomily, at a loss for how to proceed. The bird did not show any sign of giving up and leaving.
–It’s your Daily Prophet,†the mirror informed him in a bored voice, startling Dudley rather badly. –Complementary with the room. You have to let him in.â€
–Daily what?†Dudley repeated. He had some vague impression that prophets were nutters who claimed to see the future. Surely the owl was not about to carry some crazy bearded bloke into his room?
Inhaling deeply to calm himself, Dudley walked to the window and undid the latch, allowing the owl to screech loudly and fly in. Never in his life had Dudley come face to face with a real live bird of prey, though in some of the classrooms at Smeltings there had been stuffed version hung on the walls. But the owl made no threatening moves, simply holding out its leg, to which was attached what looked like a newspaper.
–Er... thank... you,†Dudley tried, removing the paper from the bird’s leg. Without preamble, it flew away out the window. Dudley set the newspaper flat on the desk near the window and saw with a jolt that a large photograph of a castle was plastered across the front, emblazoned with the headline Gryffindor’s Sword Stolen During Hogwarts Break-In. And the clouds in the picture, and the trees and waves on the nearby lake, were moving. With another jolt Dudley realized that this must be the school Harry had gone to. It was difficult to deny that the castle did not look rather magnificent.
Dudley scanned the rest of the article, moving his finger over the text so as not to lose focus, which always helped him when reading.
A break-in at Hogwarts School of Wtichcraft and Wizardry shocked students and teachers alike yesterday afternoon, as it appears that the unidentified thieves may have made off with a priceless artifact: the sword of Godric Gryffindor. The Auror Office currently claims to have no leads in the case, though Head Auror Gawain Robards recommends that protective enchantments used during the war be temporarily reinstated as a precaution. This reporter had the good fortune to be contacted by Parvati Patil of the Department of Muggle Liaison. –The circumstances might indicate a connection between the breakout of Fenrir Greyback from Azkaban, who was allegedly spotted in Hogsmead only a few days ago, and more recently by a Muggle woman who claims to have seen him with a sword,†Miss Patil tells us exclusively. For more on Patil’s dramatic and possibly unhinged resignation from the Ministry, see pages 5 and 12.
Dudley stared, disbelieving, at the bottom of the page where a smaller photograph of Parvati which he had failed to notice showed her waving up at him. So Parvati had quit her job, it seemed. How had he not known about that? Dudley sighed. Of course he had not known. He was not speaking with Parvati.
For a long moment Dudley looked around at the room; at the wall that separated him from a possible dragon; at the talking mirror, at the moving photographs in front of him; and was hit by a startling flash of clarity. What good was avoiding Parvati when she was all his mind kept coming back to, whether he remained in the Muggle world or not? For that matter, what good was keeping Harry at a distance, really, when his cousin had done much more for him than his parents had in their entire lives? Oh, to be certain, his mother and father doted on him. But a painfully honest voice in the back of his mind which had been growing stronger for the past few years insisted that their doting had probably not done him much good.
Parvati, Harry, and Hermione... he had a great deal to discuss with each of them, and no idea how to find any of them. He would need to get started on his search right away.
–What do I really have to lose?†he asked himself out loud.
–Now you’re beginning to make sense,†the mirror commented.
The Phoenix Or The Flame by GinnyRULES
Chapter Notes: I'm sorry it's been some time since my last update, and I want to thank you all for the lovely reviews, even if I haven't had time to answer them all. Wrackspurts getting in my way and all... Enjoy!
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