Dudley Slytherin - Chapter 5

They landed with a thud, somehow upending on the creaky wooden floor. The air smelled funny, of dust and dank.

Harry groaned, rolling onto his back before sitting up.

He looked about, wondering where they were.

The room was dim, yet large as small streaks of light filtered through the damaged curtains. It might have once been a sitting room, thought Harry, looking strangely across the odd furniture.

Dudley roused in a similar fashion, angling up as he looked about the room.

"What a trip," he said, making a face. "What's that smell?"

Harry quite agreed, moving to stand as Nigel slithered into view. "Welcome, Masters. To your new home."

Nigel had obviously hit his head, poor chap.

Dudley suppressed the pain, then hissed irritably. "Nigel, where are we?"

The snake slithered again, moving towards Dudley as he climbed to his feet. "Master, we are in the home of your ancestors, the great one's who spoke the noble tongue!"

It was an honour, he seemed to imply. Dudley wasn't so sure as he cleaned his clothes, settling his backpack which had begun to slip.

Ancestors?

"Ancestors?"

Nigel wiggled, a yes then. "Who?" pressed Dudley, wondering why he was being so tight lipped.

Harry had been looking about, no doubt assuaging his need for safety. Dudley was glad for it.

"Who Nigel? Who were our family?"

Dudley was growing angry at Nigel's behaviour, as if it was okay to lead them by the nose.

The snake withered, coiling appeasingly.

"Slytherin, masters. You are the progeny of Slytherin, a family who my own have served for centuries."

If Nigel expected them to be impressed, they weren't. "Who were they then?" asked Harry curiously.

Dudley was at the end of his tether.

"Nigel!"

The snake quivered.

It was then that something creaked in the house, a sort of – groan.

The boys froze, glancing at each other worriedly as groaning slowed abruptly. They needed to the get outside.

Ignoring Nigel, they walked towards the door nearest door, its own having sadly fallen off.

They stepped through, holding their breath as the dust plumed around their feet. They'd made it to the hallway, glad to see the large front door as they passed a grand staircase.

It was quite well to do, they thought. The stairs were made of a soft, smooth looking stone. With the front door directly ahead of it.

They walked quickly, eying a few portraits that adorned the short hallway's walls.

Dudley was behind, taking a little longer as his eyes lingered on different things. It was old, the house at least a hundred years. The items he saw strewn about were strange too, something even looked like an animal's foot.

He flinched towards a portrait, had it moved?

A second look showed it hadn't. Dudley picked up his pace.

It was just a portrait.

Harry reached the door, touching its thick wooden beams as his hands sought the strange handle.

It was almost too high for them.

"Let me tr –"

"It won't open."

Interrupted a voice.

Dudley squawked, immediately embarrassed as he flinched around. Poor Harry had nearly leapt off his feet, his back to the door as his eyes scanned the room.

No one.

"Nigel?" hissed Dudley, tentative as he looked for his slithering friend.

"No, stupid boy."

…

"Look at the wall, you did before."

Dudley backed away, thoroughly unnerved as he felt Harry pull him towards the door.

"C-can you see him?" he whispered, about an inch away from crying as Dudley shook he head.

They heard a sigh, then a hiss from the floor.

"Nigel! Where were you!" shouted Dudley.

A moment later, they watched as the snake slowed to a stop, hissing softly… "…it's alright Masters, it's the picture. It survived this long…"

He didn't like the sound of that, yet cautiously approached where Nigel had stopped.

Harry followed, alert.

They heard someone speak, the sound helping them find him. "Ah ha, finally found the nerve. Good show," he sounded English, very English with an upbeat attitude.

The boys found the portrait, looking as the old man looked at them with warmth and fondness.

They were green, the very same.

"Who'd have thought you'd find your way here," the portrait said, glancing between the two. "You are most welcome."

The portrait seemed to lean back in his painted chair, smiling as the boys remained wary. He'd wait for them to make the next move.

They certainly seemed brave, following Nigel all the way here.

Or stupid, he reasoned. As one of them finally plucked up the courage, the blonde one. "Sir," Dudley said, clearing his throat. "How do we get out?"

"Out?"

Dudley nodded, Harry too. "Yes, outside please."

The old man shook his head, huffing as he looked for something. "Nigel? Nigel!"

"Yes, Master," hissed Nigel as he slithered reverently towards the portrait.

"Why don't they know about our House? What did you-"

The hissing turned incoherent as the old portrait began to rant. Apparently, Nigel was a difficult servant to have.

Dudley felt oddly better now as his mind worked.

Nigel had called him Master.

They were in their ancestors' home.

The portrait could speak to Nigel.

He slumped, it was obvious. "You're related to us then? Our ancestor?"

The man stopped suddenly, turning back to Dudley with a gleam in his eye. "Yes, dear boy! I am Gorble Slytherin, the last Lord of House Slytherin."

He bowed his head, swelling with pride. At least, at first. His posture deflated soon enough, revealing a defeated man.

"I see," offered Dudley as Harry stepped to his side. Now that the threat had passed, he was much more curious.

"When was that? When did you…" Harry trailed off, Dudley agreed with the sentiment.

Asking a dead man when he'd died was weird.

Yet, Gorble seemed pleased. "Good question, we'll begin there. I was Lord until my death, in 1328. I had a family, a son," he swallowed, looking sad again. "He died shortly after I did, we'd believed without children…".

He grinned at them. "Until now, that is."

It made for a strange sight, at least to Harry as a moving portrait literally grinned down at them. It was un-nerving, really. Particularly when Dudley began to chuckle. "Amazing, I hadn't realised this was possible!"

He looked about excitedly. "What else is here?"

The portrait laughed with mirth. "There's nothing left boy, our House was absorbed into the Gaunts when my son died. The line continued through my niece…" the old lord seemed to frown then, scrutinising the boys…

He pointed at Harry.

"You look like a Black! Who were your parents?"

Harry opened his mouth.

"Wait, tell me your names first."

Harry gulped, glad as the man's attention shifted to Dudley. "Dudley. Dudley Dursley. Harry's my cousin," he pointed at Harry, an unconscious move as Harry piped up.

"Harry Potter, my Mo –"

"Potter!? Those bloody cup makers, they still owe me money!"

The boys blinked, looking wide eyed as Gorble began to rant again. Clearly the years hadn't been kind to him, or he was just mad already.

Dudley leaned towards Harry. "What time is it?"

Harry gasped, flicking his wrist to show the time.

It was nearly nine, school would start soon. Dudley made a face, thinking they should have waited till the weekend to come here.

Bloody Nigel, he'd insisted it be today.

"We need to go, we're late for school."

Gorble froze, flinching back to the boys as if he'd forgotten they were there.

"Go. Go where? Hogwarts?"

The boys shook their head, the action utterly bewildering to the aged portrait. "I'm confused, do your parents not teach you?"

Again, a negative. Dudley explained as best he could. About their upbringing, what they'd discovered about magic. Harry chimed in with his parent's names, making an animal face to finish it off.

Gorble had been shocked, eliciting only a slight shriek, much to the boys' amusement.

The muggles caught Gorble's attention the most, calling them evil – even mad. He began to rant again.

Dudley was realising they wouldn't be leaving soon, hoping his Mother didn't find out.

As if.

The day truly began when Gorble bade them to find some chairs so he could explain some things to them.

And so, they did, much to their benefit.

It was hours later when they finally left.

Break

They arrived with a whoosh, whacking the forest floor as they toppled to the ground. Gorble was right, they'd need to practice magical transportation.

Dudley quickly leapt to his feet, looking around searchingly. "Come on Harry, we need to go!" he helped Harry stand, the slightly smaller boy wobbling a bit as he did.

"Ah!"

Dudley leant down, scooping the key they'd used into his hand. Harry began to head out, straightening his bag as Dudley followed behind. "Nigel, meet us back at home."

He didn't wait for a reply, the two boys at a pace now where branches whipped across their view.

Naturally, they ran out of steam once they'd left the forest.

They panted, feeling the wet grass give beneath their feet. "Did you get the key Dud?"

Between breaths, Dudley nodded. "Got it, how much time till lunch?"

Their plan was to slip back in during lunch, hoping no one would notice.

"10 minutes."

Harry doubted it, Dudley was optimistic as they set off again, walking quickly as the rain began anew.

"Great," huffed Dudley. Scowling as the droplets fell.

Harry kept silent, knowing it wouldn't help Dudley's annoyance. What a morning, and the day wasn't even over yet as they set off.

The school soon arrived into view, the gates tightly shut. "We'll have to go around, we can slip through round the back."

Dudley led the way, though they each knew the route. Bullies were abundant at this school, particularly for the weirdo brothers with creepy eyes.

Harry enjoyed picking through their thoughts, the perfect practice for them both. And though initially Dudley had been better, Harry soon caught up. They were roughly equal in the skill now, though given Dudley's other interests in magic, naturally led Harry to practice it more.

It was a fun game.

They made it to the gap in minutes, the metal bars that formed the fence having already been widened by something. Probably a car, as they slipped through, appearing near the rubbish bins.

There was the usual clutter around, where the deliveries came and went, the staff too as they approached fire door.

It had been left ajar, the school's handyman a little frail nowadays. They ran for it, wanting to be in as soon as possible.

Someone stepped out, causing Harry to almost trip as the door was shunted even wider, he was about to try and hide when Dudley squared his shoulders.

The handyman was also a bit dim, luckily. As Harry knew what Dudley was about to do, he hoped it worked as his stomach squirmed a little.

He didn't like this aspect as much, Dudley neither.

Yet, they'd practiced it all the same.

"Oi! Wha' are yous two doing out here?!"

Dudley smiled, meeting the man's brown eyes with a piercing stare.

The magic connected as Harry saw the man's face shift, looking confused before it slackened some more. Dudley grunted, gesturing quickly for Harry. He didn't hesitate, sprinting past before waiting at the door.

Dudley stared at the man, his expression one of complete focus.

Harry couldn't feel magic like Dudley could, didn't know when people were near, yet he knew Dudley was currently scratching desperately away at the man's memories of them.

It was crude, but it worked. The bullies hadn't remembered a thing, simply turning away after.

Dudley followed quickly, sprinting to the door before the man could see them again.

He didn't, as they slipped inside.

"Thanks Dud."

Dudley nodded, the look they shared one of sympathy. Neither liked doing it, it felt wrong – it just did.

Dudley patted Harry's shoulder.

He knew Harry didn't like doing it, more so than him. So, they'd silently agreed Dud would handle that aspect.

They didn't linger, moving silently along the halls, keeping low as they passed the various classroom doors. Harry checked his watch, a few minutes as they approached their lockers.

The were outside their classroom now, each of them fishing keys from pockets as they tried not to fumble with the stiff locks. The classroom was noisy as they stowed their things, Dudley unsure if the teacher had called home, but it was very likely.

They'd call it a success if their plan worked, the library a great place to hide. Hypothetically.

"Boys!"

They froze.

Miss Clayton. Dudley turned.

"Where have you two been?"

He tried to look confused. "We were in the library, Miss." He did a wonderful job of sounding innocent, far better than Harry who looked visibly worried.

She looked between them, suspicious.

"Which library?"

Dudley blinked. "Our library, of course."

"We looked in the library," she said, not impressed by their lie. "Where were you really?"

"We were-"

"No lying boys!"

Their mouths shut, Harry knew they were finished. He'd said it wouldn't work.

Dudley was angry, his magic itching as footsteps approached.

"Miss Clayton! You found them!" came a rushing voice, heels clacking on the hard floor. "Oh blesses," such was the woman's relief, not noticing the close scrutiny the boys were under.

"Where have you two been?!"

The boys withered, Dudley's anger doing nothing to abate the storm that was their Headmistress.

"In my office. Now."

They followed obediently, wondering if their Mother had already arrived.

She hadn't, but was on her way as the Headmistress clacked the phone down.

Bloody Nigel, thought the boys as they waited in the naughty chairs, only allocated to the privileged few that managed to earn the ire of their Headmistress. She was an imposing woman, tall with strong limbs. Her calf muscles were particularly defined, the boys reasoning it was down to her odd choice of shoe.

Women wore strange things, as Miss Clayton lingered at the office door, doing her best to avoid the bustle about the reception.

"You're in big trouble boys," she said, drifting towards them. "You've been missing half the day, what were you thinking?"

Ha, thought Dudley. She'd changed her tune, now she wanted to know their inner thoughts too.

Nosey woman.

Dudley knew she didn't like them, particularly him; Harry was perhaps guilty by association.

"We were in the library, as we've said," he wouldn't bow to her, meeting her brown eyes with barely disguised scorn.

Harry squirmed, glancing up as Miss Clayton flinched away. She huffed, turning to admire an unappealing painting on the wall.

She was a young teacher, unpractised at handling children. Particularly wilful boys.

The painting offered her a good distraction, it's neat squares of consistent colour helping her mind wonder; along with a magazine she'd found, and eventually the window. It was a lovely day for rain.

Why she hadn't gone for lunch already was a mystery to her, she shouldn't need to wait for them.

But, they were her students, she was responsible for them. Even if they occasionally unsettled her.

She dared a glance at them, standing to the side by the window. They chatted quietly, thick as thieves they were; the best of friends, quite amazing for nine-year olds.

There was something off about them too, they were different from other children. Different even from their other friends, Piers and Ted if she recalled.

Her gaze lingered on them, flicking over their features, their eyes… yes, their eyes were odd.

Green as gleaming emerald. It was as if they had a light of their own, shocking yet mesmerising to behold.

She'd looked too long, ungracefully twitching away as Dudley glanced at her. He was the worst of the two, he had spirit and was… aggressive.

He was fiercely protective of Harry; and equally, Harry of him. Dudley was bigger, older too; though not by much. Perhaps he'd adopted the older brother role, even if they were only cousins.

She glanced at them again. Grimacing as they stared expectedly back at her.

"What are you looking at?" spat Dudley, almost growling at her.

"Nothing! Sor-"

She gulped, swallowing as she walked away. Dudley was indeed the worst, angry and protective as she heard a muttered 'thought so'.

Her pace hurried, ignoring the door as it chimed open.

The sooner those boys left, the better.

Only two more years, she could wait.

Break

Petunia was apoplectic – to say the least.

Her day had started well, she'd gone to the supermarket after the boys had left for school; enjoyed a little chitchat with an old friend in the wine section, only to come home and listen to a frightful voice mail.

They weren't at school; how could that be?

Impossible, she'd thought. They must be at school; her boys knew better than to skip again.

Which meant… she'd raced to the park, breaking umpteen speed limits along the way. The rain didn't help, making it hard to see even as she parked along the adjoining road.

They weren't there, nothing, no one.

She panicked, thinking the worst. Thinking they'd been taken by the same people that took Lily from her.

Her sobs were loud, echoing as passers-by looked in with concern.

By the time she'd gotten home, it was almost mid-day; she'd sat in the sitting room, hoping they'd come home all by herself.

She'd been about to write to Dumbledore, having just remembered the letter she kept hidden when the phone rang: it was the school.

Again, she drove. The lunchtime traffic doing little to slow her down as she arrived.

Reception welcomed her, the door buzzing open without a moments delay. They must have seen her coming, as had her boys.

They looked guilty, unable to meet her eyes.

"Mrs Dursley!" said the Headmistress, clicking out from her office. "Thank you for coming."

They shook hands formally, neither wanting to appear casual. This was very serious.

"Of course."

Petunia turned to her boys. "You've got some explaining to do."

The boys glanced at each other, communicating much it seemed. They didn't answer, merely fidgeting in place.

"We couldn't get much out of them," commented the Headmistress, as if Petunia; their Mother, would have the same luck.

Petunia gave her a sour look. "Boys," they sat up straight. "Come, we're going home."

They began to nod a yes before no, shaking their head.

"Our stuff is in the lockers."

She turned to Harry, who was twiddling his fingers. There was much more going on, that she was sure.

"Go and get your things, I'll wait for you here."

They leapt to their feet, heading off through the corridors. Silence prevailed, at least for a moment.

"That's it? You'll take them home?"

"Yes."

Petunia didn't like the Headmistress, even less so as she took in her attire. Those shoes were completely inappropriate, at least three inches.

They sniffed, almost in unison.

Petunia fumed. "How I discipline my children, is of no concern to you."

The woman in cheap heels stood straighter, beginning to glare. "I must protest, they should stay here at least. They'll miss a whole day of school!"

Petunia didn't answer, turning away as she moved towards the door.

"How rude."

The office door slammed with a snap, leaving Petunia to her thoughts.

She waited, her fears still tumbling mercilessly about her mind.

"Mum?"

She felt a hand prod her leg, she hadn't noticed him.

"Let's go."

Dudley followed with Harry at his side, they were in trouble.

The car journey home was tenuous, no one speaking as the radio rattled on, their home quickly arriving into view.

Dudley entered behind his Mother, wishing he could run to his room and think about everything they'd done today.

It was amazing.

They'd need to decide what to tell Petunia. Not the truth, as she'd surely forbid them going back there.

"Now," she began. "What happened today?"

…

"I am waiting."

Dudley slumped. "We're sorry Mum, we didn't mean for us to skip school. Nigel-"

"-Nigel? What about Nigel."

Her voice held an edge, a threatening one. She should never have let them keep that dangerous snake.

"He-" Dudley swallowed. "He showed us some Magic, in the woods behind the park."

Petunia didn't response, letting him continue. "We couldn't do it right away so…"

Harry nodded, seeing where Dudley was going. It was perfect.

"I managed it first."

Dudley looked like he'd sucked a lemon. "Y-yeah, Harry got it pretty quick."

Great, thought Dudley angrily. Now what were they supposed to show her: that they could read minds?

Not happening.

Petunia scrutinised them still.

"What Magic, exactly?"

"…Magic. You know."

Petunia raised a brow.

"Snake Magic," said Dudley. "Nigel tried to teach us, but it's hard."

"I see, the Forest? You went straight there, rather than school?"

"Yep!"

"Yeah."

Dudley nudged Harry with his foot, Harry was a bad liar. He'd get them busted for sure.

A noise interrupted them, gurgling hungrily.

"…can we have lunch now?"

They'd had a busy morning as Petunia slumped, nodding her head as the boys yelled happily.

They weren't telling her everything, of course they weren't.

But… it was magic, their magic. How could she push for information? She couldn't talk to snakes and they were so… cagey, about it.

She worried her lip, not for the first time as she thought of Lily. She was never this difficult, when they were young. Always the delightful daughter.

Why couldn't she have had girls.