Ch10. Dudley, the little hero.
Surrey, Little Whinging, Privet Drive 4, 3 AM.
Dursleys were enjoying the most comfortable and peaceful sleep after a week spent in an old, dusty light-house. Nothing could even describe the delight they were in at the moment.
Their heavenly sleep and wonderful dreams were abruptly interrupted by a loud knocking reverberating through the house. For better or worse, it was Dudley who woke up first. He angrily stomped his way down the stairs as another much louder knocking sounded through the house. Dudley swung the front door open with murder in his eyes and shouted.
"What do you want!"
The second the door opened, the police officers were surprised to see a… pig? No. A young, overfed… child. Wearing pajamas, barely concealing his bigness. They quickly snapped out of it and focused on the child in front of them.
"Hello, I am Frank and this," Frank pointed at his colleague. "is Mark. We are police officers. Are you Harry Potter?" He asked Dudley.
"Who?" He looked at them cluelessly, creating an awkward atmosphere.
"Oh. We heard there are two children living here." Mark awkwardly stated.
"The freak?" Dudley exclaimed, alerting the officers. "Why would anyone care about the freak?" He spat venomously.
Hearing him, the police officers barged in, pushing Dudley to the side, completely ignoring his protests. Vernon was half-way through the stairs when they got through Dudley and started shouting about the breach of privacy. The officers ignored him and went towards the cupboard.
Opening it, they saw an empty small 'room', consisting mostly of something that could barely pass as a 'bed'. On the said bed, a lot of red blotches were visible, making the expression of police officers turn stony.
"Where is the child?" Frank threateningly asked Vernon who promptly ignored him.
"This is an outrage! Who allowed you…!" Vernon shouted as he charged at the officers, still half-asleep.
He didn't manage to finish that sentence or even tackle them before he was manhandled by Mark, pushed face-first into the floor, and promptly arrested. Only then did the overgrown Walrus realize who the men he just charged are and his complexion turned pale.
"Wha-what a-are you do-doing here!" He stuttered in fright.
Nobody answered him, instead, he was dryly told his rights by a very unamused Mark. Vernon was not a completely dumb man though. When he saw them examining the cupboard he quickly connected the dots.
"What did the freak do this time!" His face purpled up as spit flew from his mouth.
"In your place, I would worry more about going to jail for child abuse, buddy." Mark told him as he squatted nearby.
"Well," Frank finished examining the cupboard. "add an attempted murder, Mark." He said. "The blotches inside are blood. Enough to kill a child. Plus the entire bed is blue under UV light. It is bloody through and through." Frank barely restrained his anger.
Vernon hearing them started to feel despair. Child abuse? Him!? He was the model citizen of Great Britain! Just look at how he raised Dudley! He made him into a good young man who can stand up for himself! Look around his house! Everything is clean, the garden is always attended to, and his Dudley has tons of toys! He never abused anyone important in his life!
Vernon was about to burst when Petunia came down, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Seeing Vernon on the ground, his hands bound behind his back, and the police officer examining the cupboard, she quickly understood what's going on.
"May I help you?" She calmly asked the officers.
"Ah, I am Frank and this is Mark, we got a call that there is an abused child in this household. Miss…?" Frank asked.
"Petunia. Petunia Dursley." She meekly stated.
"Well, Miss Petunia, could you tell us what this is about?" Mark pointed at the cupboard, making her lower her head even more.
Petunia put her hand on Dudley's shoulders, preventing him from blurting out something stupid. She knew her son well enough to realize he was by now wondering why anyone cares about the freak. Having him blow up in front of the police was the last thing on her to-do list.
Petunia was a crafty woman. She was, after all, the sister of the brightest witch of her generation. Even though she never knew Lily as such. Seeing her husband, she quickly calculated her losses and was prepared to cut them off. She was not about to let her hate for the freak destroy her family or Dudley's future!
"Mr. Frank, my husband," She appeared heartbroken. "he, after a hard day at work sometimes has to vent."
Petunia guiltily glanced at Vernon who was staring at her googly-eyed.
"Harry is the child of my deceased sister. He didn't make it easy for us. Financially we were not in a good spot for years." She let a fake tear strain her face. "Excuse me," She wiped her tears. "it was hard to look at it sometimes." Petunia let out a sob and slowly flopped down on the floor. "I couldn't stop it. In the end, it was better for my husband to calm his urges on young Harry than with myself and I couldn't endanger our little Dudley." By the end of her little speech, she looked like a broken, mortified wife, making Vernon gape at the situation.
Well, Harry had to get his Slytherin aspects from one side of the family. And Potters just did not cut it, the Gryffindorkish lot!
The officers shot the pitiful sobbing and tear-stricken woman an understanding smile and were about to try to comfort her when Dudley, in a short miraculous burst of intelligence opened his mouth.
"But mom, why did you always encourage me to play Harry hunting, then?" He asked, completely confused. "Why is it bad that dad beat the freak? Isn't that what Harry hunting is about? You taught me so! My friends enjoy hunting Harry! Why is something so fun, not good anymore?" He childishly protested.
The air in the room stilled. Petunia's tears quickly dried up as she blinked at Dudley in bewilderment with her mouth slightly opened. In her mind, she was cursing herself for marrying an oaf such as Vernon whose genes made her son into an idiot too!
"Well, guess this makes the case clear." Mark commented nonplussed as he helped Petunia up and cuffed her.
"But damn if she was not a good actress. She almost got me!" Frank quipped as they left the house, dragging Dursleys in cuffs. Neither of them happy they didn't manage to find little Harry.
At that time, Dursleys didn't yet know their house was completely robbed clean and what was left was broken. Their days of painful realization were yet to come…
…
In one of the houses across the street, Arabella Figg observed the happenings and saw Dursleys dragged out by the police. She was about to inform Dumbledore that there were problems with poor little Harry when suddenly, a half-kneazle started to rub on her foot.
'Ah, Mr. Fluffy-Rub is hungry.' She cooed. 'Dumbledore can wait.'
Unfortunately, by the time she fed all thirty of her kneazles, she completely forgot that something happened at Privet Drive 4.