Clearing the decks

"Up! Get up! Now" howled a creaky voice followed by the repeated sound of a bang on a door.

This was the usual morning at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging Surrey. A young boy with golden blond shoulder-length hair opened one eye then closed it uninterested. The sound didn't come from his door but from the bedroom in front of his. The room was occupied by his cousin, Harry Potter. It was almost ten years that his parents, the Dursley, took care of the boy after his own parents were killed in a car accident. Of course, taking "care" was a big word. The Dursley couple hated Harry to their bones and used every means to make that clear. For a reason that eluded him, his parents didn't abandon Harry to an orphanage. The boy was sure that his cousin would be far happier anywhere but here. The Dursley treated him like a parasite or an unspeakable creature.

For him, on the other hand, he didn't really care. He didn't dislike him or appreciate him, Harry was just someone who lived in the same house with him. He first tried to befriend him in their first year together. A boy of the same age and living with him seemed like having a brother. But, unfortunately, his parents completely and fiercely disagree. They didn't want their son to be associated with their "parasite" lest he catch something harmful or sick. Then he began to avoid him, spoke less with him and even forgot about him the more he can. Even though they can't be friends, he didn't want to mistreat him like his parents. And this was their relationship till a certain school event came to.

Strangely, after years split apart into different classes, the both of them finally grouped in the same grade. Despite the furious arguing his father got with the school administration, their short maneuver couldn't make them change their organisation and the proposition to make him skip a class, or forcing Harry to redo the same year, didn't make it. And so he and Harry began the year together in the same class for the first time. In the beginning nothing in their relationship changed. They both went to class, returned together and peacefully - mostly for him - lived in Privet Drive. Until the accident.

"Duddy! Breakfast is ready!", said a creaky and sweet voice at the door.

Dudley Dursley finally opened his eyes and rose from his sitting position which he used to 'meditate' in the morning. After stretching his legs and waking up his muscles, Dudley dressed up and looked at the calendar looking gloomy.

"… I'm not hungry", he whispered, clapping his tongue.

.....

Harry Potter lived with the Dursley for almost ten years. Harry was a young boy with a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. His most notable trait was a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. According to his aunt, he got his scar from the car accident who killed his parents. He never got any other answers after this one. Harry also wore an old pair of glasses held together by thin scotch tape, recollection of a punch in the face that broke his eyeglasses a few years ago. More precisely, from a punch of Dudley.

Nearly three years ago when he was eight, Harry got cornered by a bunch of kids who got the ideas to bully him for whatever reason. Despite being outnumbered, six to one, Harry defended himself the best he could and prepared to retaliate. This was at this moment that his cousin Dudley intervened. Surprisingly, Dudley saw him being bullied and decided to stop them. But unfortunately, by some strange twist of fate, it was at this moment that Harry punched them back. And instead of one of his bullies, his fist encountered Dudley jaw cheek. Dudley didn't bulge when he got hit. Instead he calmly looked at Harry a few seconds before shoving his knuckles deep between his eyebrow and breaking his glasses on the move. It was at this moment that Dudley found his passion for boxing and Harry's relationship with his cousin changed forever.

"Up! Get up! Now" howled a creaky voice followed by the repeated sound of a bang on a door.

Harry opened his eyes and landed on the trembling doors of his room. Although he was awake a few moments ago, he didn't want to get up. Harry slept in the smallest room of the house and lived with the bare minimum of clothes and furniture. He was lucky though, before he was living in the cupboard under the stairs. This was until Dudley told his parents he was "frightened" by him sleeping there that the Dursley finally let him live in his own room. This was one of the rare things that he was grateful to Dudley.

As the bang of his door did not diminish, Harry finally got up and dressed to head down into the kitchen where his uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia were already there.

"I'm here", Harry said, barely welcomed by his aunt and ignored by his uncle.

"Finally! Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect for my Duddy today."

Harry grunter.

"What did you say?" his aunt said ferociously to him.

"Nothing, nothing …"

Harry remembered now. This was Dudley's eleventh birthday. The only day of the year when Harry and Dudley were on the same terms. They both hated this day. For Harry it was normal. Every single year on this date, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

For Dudley, it was kind of special. While he was grateful to his parents for their generosity, he found them to be overdoing it. Every time he received so many gifts that he considered it a real waste. Except one or two presents, the rest ended up collecting dust in their garage. He repeatedly tried to tell them that he would rather receive only one gift from them, but his parents never seemed to listen to him. So every year, Dudley found himself unpacking a mountain of gifts, most of which were useless to him. One day he tried to give some of them to Harry to get rid of them, but his parents thought it would be better to throw them away than to give them to Harry. Effectively a real waste according to Harry and Dudley. And the second part of this day was no better for them.

As Harry was serving Uncle Vernon coffee the door of the kitchen opened and a tall boy with golden shoulder-length hair and deep blue eyes entered the kitchen.

"...'morning." growled the boy.

"Popkin! Happy birthday!" said joyously Petunia jumping on his son, smothering him with a hug and a bombardment of kisses on his cheek.

"Happy birthday Duddy! Eleven! My little tyke is finally a big boy" exclaimed Vernon proudly.

Big, according to Harry, seemed to be an understatement to describe Dudley. He was a giant for his age. Despite only being eleven, Dudley was almost 6 feet tall .Harry completely dwarfed beside him. Dudley looked lean and well built with a square face surrounded by his long blond hair. He just kept a little roundness near his cheeks, probably a remnant of infancy but more probably from his mother's hearty dishes.

Dudley finally escaped his mother's embrace and after greeting his father, he walked towards Harry with a leisurely step.

"Happy birthday" Harry muttered in a dull tone.

"Down low."

"Wha...!"

"Too slow", Dudley said by punching Harry in his liver side.

Harry was breathless and collapsed to the ground in a deafening noise. Dudley smiled and stepped over him to sit at the table, the Dursley couple pretending to ignore what just happened. This was the relationship between Harry and Dudley, the same between a boxer and his punching bag.

After the news of Dudley smashing Harry's face in school was known, the school administration asked the Dursley to take their son to consult a therapist. Although Uncle Vernon found the idea revolting, he was nevertheless forced to submit to it and the Dursleys introduced Dudley to a specialist. His evaluation: fighting sport, drumming lessons and meditation practice for Dudley. Although Harry had a few other comments about his cousin's mental health, Dudley's life changed dramatically after that. Therefore Dudley began drum lessons which, to Harry's surprise, his cousin showed real talent. He also began to learn different fighting sports such as boxing, karate and jujitsu. And in each of them Dudley was exceptionally gifted, which Harry for once was willing to believe.

Meditation, on the other hand, proved to be a real challenge for Dudley. Harry still remembered the first lesson Dudley took. He was ordered to sit on a tiny pillow for an hour trying not to move and to concentrate on his breath. After five minutes, Dudley couldn't take it anymore. His parents tried to make him give up not really finding the practice useful, but Dudley seemed eager to take up the challenge, more probably because of his own personal pride than out of a real desire to temper his attitude. Since then, every morning, Dudley got the habit to meditate crossed legged on a pillow. Harry still doesn't know if Dudley succeeded in his meditation or if he keeps gesturing weirdly on his cushion.

In any case, the bruises on his chest can attest to Dudley's increasingly wrestling nature. Because since the incident, Dudley started using Harry during breaks as his favorite wrestling partner. And this despite their difference in size. Dudley was even assigned a gang after the story, the other six who were after Harry. Usually they were the ones who trapped Harry and took him to confront Dudley for a short boxing session. However, they had the order to let Harry down if he ever managed to escape from them. A Dudley's suggestion that Harry kept in mind. But to really talk about friends, they were acting more like minions for Dudley. It was one of their rare commonalities that Harry found in common with his cousin.. Neither of them had any real friends.

Harry finally regained his breath and sat at the table under Dudley's somewhat mocking eye. Harry looked back at him but did not complain. Despite the shock, he knew that Dudley didn't really put much strength in his punches. His cousin was probably the strongest child he knew. One day, a sixteen-year-old teenager had the "bright" idea to racket Harry and Dudley for some reason. A few moments after their 'interaction', the poor boy found himself rolling down a sloping street several hundred metres entirely locked in a garbage can. He could even swore, that one day, he saw him lifting the Dursleys' car from the back of the vehicle at arm's length.

Uncle Vernon began to show the many piles of gifts to Dudley who nodded to him with half-closed eyes while Harry couldn't stop himself to be a little jealous of his cousin, even though he didn't want to. A few moments later, the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it before shortly going back with a deep frown.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg broke her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.

Harry's heart gave a leap while Dudley looked at his mother nonchalantly. Every year on Dudley's birthday, The Dursley took him and a "friend" out for the day.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this.

Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbies, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend...Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully.

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

"Just bring him with us, it won't change a thing," Dudley said, exasperated by their discussion.

To the Dursleys' couple and Harry's surprise, the suggestion of Dudley was like the effect of a cold water. Harry didn't know how to respond, but his Uncle didn't have this problem.

"Duddy, I don't think it is a good idea to take him," gently responded Vernon.

"You prefer to let him here alone?" simply answered Dudley.

Vernon hesitated to say something but just then, the doorbell rang.

"Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically and welcomed a mother and his son, Piers Polkiss, into the house.

The kid ran next to Dudley like a puppy running to his master. Dudley just nodded to him still not interested but his act didn't bother Piers who just looked at Dudley fanatically.

Half an hour later and after Harry got a sermon by Vernon about some "funny business", the whole family went away to the zoo. Harry couldn't believe it and Dudley just yawned.