Dudley Slytherin - Chapter 12

Dudley landed with a thud, not enjoying the now frequent feeling as he glanced around the forest.

He was back, moving to stand on the very spot Nigel had found them all those years ago. Dudley thought of his friend, wondering what he was up to.

Probably asleep somewhere, as the rain spattered down.

Dudley pulled the coat close, bringing the collar up against the back of his head. Hoods were a more recent creation as Dudley walked between the trees, knowing the route even in the dark.

He'd often walk back, late at night before Harry slipped him inside.

It was a little cold too, but too bad as he trudged along. The rain had already begun to saturate the ground, his steps sinking as they squelched in the mud.

He made it out, his lower half littered with mud.

The view across the park hadn't changed, arriving in the same way as usual at the edge of the park.

It all seemed so long ago, the time he and Harry had spent here.

They were gone now, it was just him as he began to jog.

He needed to get home as the cars passed as he went, his fitness not an issue as he pressed on, not stopping for anything.

Well, except to cross the road.

It was nearing midday when approached his street, the familiar houses evoking a wave of relief. He hadn't realised how stressed he'd been, by everything; going to Hogwarts had ben difficult for him, in hindsight as he slowed to a walk

He approached his house, shifting his hair slightly. It was soaked.

His father's car was in the drive, making him stop.

Dudley thought quickly, having only expected to see his mother.

The key, it was still in his hand as he moved it into view.

He grimaced, hating the feeling as he swallowed it whole, unable to stop his coughing.

Dudley settled, before walking quickly off the pavement as he crossed the road.

He didn't have a key to the house, having to knock instead.

He waited, listening for movement.

…

"Yes?" asked Petunia, opening the door slightly.

She blinked, before her eyes dropped to her soaked son.

"DUDLEY!"

She pounced at him, drawing him in as he hobbled inside.

"Vernon! Come quick!"

She was checking his face, his hair, his head, his arms; everything as he tried to edge away. "Stop struggling, Dudley," she admonished.

He did, just as Vernon charged into view.

"Dudley!"

It resumed, the pair fretting as Vernon noticed his strange clothing. "What are those clothes?"

Petunia had settled, having confirmed he wasn't hurt.

Dudley hesitated, looking away as Petunia glanced at Vernon. "Let's get you cleaned up first," she said, helping him remove the shoes and coat.

Vernon took them, frowning down at them.

Petunia didn't dally, sending Dudley straight upstairs as she followed behind.

Vernon stayed, looking within the collar of the coat. He found a patch of fabric, with a brand he didn't recognise.

Odd, as he tried to read the name. It was a jumble of marks, nothing he could recognise as he carried them through, dropping them on the sofa as he passed.

He needed something to eat, as he fished through the naughty cupboard. Why they called it that, he'd never know.

It was only chocolate.

Vernon walked back into the living room, sighing as he sat beside Dudley's clothes. It had been a stressful few days, particularly after receiving the letter.

A letter, they'd sent a letter to tell them their son had been expelled, and would be returning the following day.

What. The. F-

"Vernon!" he jumped as Petunia zoomed into view. "Dudley's in the shower, he won't talk about it!"

She was pacing, stopping, turning as she huffed in distress.

Vernon tried to hide his chocolate.

"Really, Vernon?"

He looked away. "I am so stressed. Sorry Pet."

She slumped, moving to sit as he shuffled over.

"Give me some."

He broke a bit off, the two sharing quietly.

Dudley wouldn't be long.

"Have you heard anything? On that special paper?" he asked, finishing his half.

Petunia shook her head. "No, not a word."

She was angry – and upset, there had been no further detail on the letter they'd received.

Dudley had been expelled? What on earth could he have done.

The two had discussed it, their conclusions getting worse and worse as the night drew on.

They'd hardly slept, Vernon had to take another day off work.

Yet, it filled her with relief to have Dudley back; despite the state he was in.

It was as if… she bit her lip.

"You don't think," she began, turned slightly to Vernon. "You don't think he, ran away do you?"

Vernon scoffed.

"He'd been expelled, I imagine he was rightly distraught."

She hummed, thinking the same.

Then, she thought. Looking to her side.

She picked the clothing up, running her fingers across the strange coat.

"What is this?" she said, opening it as she searched as Vernon had.

He reached across, showing her the label.

She frowned, turning slowly as she looked at Vernon in bewilderment.

"Something from Hogwarts?"

Vernon made a face 'who knows'.

Petunia set the coat aside, rubbing her face absently as they waited for Dudley.

…

He appeared a few minutes later, the room quiet as he glanced towards them.

Petunia smiled, he was wearing shorts.

"It's raining, Dudley."

He grinned, flattening the fabric. "They're my favourite," he said, walking as the two made space between them. He hopped into place, letting his hands fall to his lap.

The three sat quietly, until the TV flicked on.

Vernon flinched, glancing at the remote on the TV stand, then back to Dudley.

"Put it on 4," he said, as Dudley nodded. "They'll be something on."

Dudley didn't watch much TV, that was more Harry's thing as the channel changed.

Petunia sniffed. "Adverts."

They watched them anyway, the volume low when the Drama came back on, something about a murder.

Dudley hmphed, remembering now why he didn't like TV. He focused instead on everything he needed to say, knowing he shouldn't lie to them.

It was a difficult choice, they'd be so upset as he flexed his hand. The pain had long passed, along with whatever had changed him.

He breathed out, his parents shifting

"Mum," he said. "Dad."

They were listening.

Dudley looked down. "I-I am sorry! It's all my fault."

He wouldn't cry, he'd told himself; yet they seemed to come so easily as he felt his Mother's hand, soothing as it rubbed his back.

"It's alright Dudley," she spoke softly. "Everything's alright now."

Vernon took his hand, holding it gently.

He tensed.

"Dudley?" they said. "Dudley?"

Dudley pushed away, standing as he stood across from them.

He turned back to them, his eyes sad.

"I was expelled."

They didn't react how he thought.

"You know?" he asked. "They told you quickly," he commented.

Petunia nodded, choosing not to stand as she edged forwards. "They did," she said. "A letter arrived last night."

Dudley didn't say a word, looking everywhere but at his parents.

He was so ashamed.

"We," she began. "We don't know why, Dudley."

His shoulders lifted, as if to shrug the weight of his deeds away.

"What happened Dudley?" asked Vernon carefully, seeing his son's distress.

Dudley looked distraught again, before finally looking there way.

"I hurt them," he pushed it out. "A Professor, I attacked her. The students were hurt too."

Vernon looked confused, not believing for a second that Dudley ha-

"It's true. I almost-" he sat, slumping on the floor. "I could have killed her."

Petunia gasped, seeing the truth as Dudley covered his face.

It couldn't be.

"Dudley…" she swallowed, unable to stop herself as she slid to the floor. "Y-you wouldn't have, we know you wouldn't!"

He shook his head, crying again. "I did. I remember it all," he sobbed, opening his palm in confession.

"I made a mistake,"

There it was, the grey symbol he'd made.

Petunia snatched his hand, bringing it close as she tried to thumb it away.

"W-what?" she felt weak. "What is this Dudley?"

Vernon appeared above, kneeling down as he looked as well.

"A tattoo?" he was angry. "Dudley! What were you thinking?"

"Vernon!"

Petunia knew it wouldn't help, ending any further rebuke.

Dudley almost laughed, he quite agreed.

"Yeah, I know. What was I thinking…"

His wand appeared, the soft pop stilling the air as his parents stared.

…

Petunia wilted.

"Oh Dudley," she lamented, bringing his head close. "That head of yours."

The dots connected.

Vernon didn't quite understand, yet sensed his wife did.

"What happened Dudley?" he asked, softly as Petunia let him go.

Dudley looked up, actually smiling as he grasped his wand.

"It worked," he showed his hand, the wand vanishing again as he demonstrated a few times.

Vernon nodded. "Yes, I see. You store your wand there?"

That sounded alright to him, where else would they put it? A pocket?

People couldn't put sticks in their pockets. Madness.

Dudley stored his wand a final time, already feeling better.

His parents hadn't condemned him.

"Well," he said, nodding as the course of events came to him. "The issue was, that I couldn't store my wand. It's too heavy, made of bone."

His parents nodded, understanding. "So, when I couldn't talk to Professor Snape after breakfast," his parents frowned. "I went to the library, looking for a solution. My first lesson was History, so I skipped it."

Go on.

"I designed the seal," he raised his hand. "It's like the magical suitcases, it has a dimension that's separate inside."

"Like the Tardis?" asked Vernon, almost exited.

Dudley looked at him. "No, that's a TV Show."

Ugh, Vernon sighed, gesturing he continue.

"So, I drew this; it's like an eye, storing was it sees within my hand," his wand appeared again. "It worked on paper, when I tested it. I just needed a way to keep on my palm, then I could summon my wand whenever!"

It was a brilliant solution, Dudley was beginning to feel glad as he parents seemed impressed.

"But," he made a face. "The only book on Magical Tattoos was in a locked room, so I naturally…"

"You broke in," said Petunia, unimpressed.

"Yeah," said Dudley. "Turns out, they were all books on Dark Magic."

Petunia shook her head, what a ridiculous school.

"After casting it, I felt funny," continued Dudley. "So I went for lunch," Vernon nodded, totally agreeing with his logic.

"They'd been looking for me, I'd been gone for hours when I arrived in the great hall, where a Professor approached me… Harry wasn't there, which didn't seem right."

Harry always had lunch with him, it was lunchtime. He wasn't there, something terrible must have happened.

He explained his reasoning at the time, which of course sounded silly now.

"That's when I started to think Sprout had taken Harry-"

"Who?" asked Vernon.

"The Herbology Professor."

"Oh."

Dudley scratched his head. "I attacked, surrounded by the rest of the school as they ate lunch."

Vernon was amazed.

"You actually managed to hit her? Isn't she an expert in Magic?"

Of course, that's what Vernon would focus on as Petunia huffed.

She looked at Dudley, who seemed cagey all of a sudden.

That ruddy snake again. "That wouldn't have anything to do with Nigel, would it?"

Dudley started to shake his head, before stopping as Petunia gave him a look.

"Yes."

She sighed.

"And Gorble."

…

"WHO's GORBLE!?" she screeched.

Dudley stammered, looking for help.

"He- He's our ancestor," Petunia looked ready to burst.

"A painting!" he plead. "He's a portrait, but can talk! He's been teaching me!"

Dudley had leant away, letting the truth free as his parents appeared frantic.

Petunia tried to calm, shuffling her legs which were beginning to go numb. "Let's," she sighed, glancing at Vernon. "Let's just have lunch, we'll discuss this all later."

Vernon stood, already out the door and into the kitchen.

They followed, Dudley smiled happily.

Break

It was later than evening when a knock at the door sounded, prompting Vernon to rise as he glanced behind. Petunia looked nervous, following behind as they approached the door.

Dudley was upstairs, reading in his room as Vernon opened it.

It was Dumbledore.

"Good evening," he said, leaving aside his usual cheer. "May I come in?"

Vernon eyed him for a moment, before stepping aside.

"Close the door behind you."

Dumbledore did, following the clearly angry parents through.

He'd keep it brief, having already handled the rest with the Ministry.

That fine had been outrageous.

"I assume Dudley is here?" he asked.

…

"Yes," said Petunia. "No thanks to you."

She glared at him frostily. "We've spoken to Dudley, we know what happened."

Ah, good.

Dumbledore tugged his beard. "I see, it was not my intent to have him expelled."

"What does it matter," said Vernon scathingly. "He's gone now. I'll expect a refund on his supplies. Or will Dudley get them?"

Dumbledore assured him, on the first part. "A refund will be given," he paused. "Dudley is not allowed to retrieve his equipment."

Petunia looked at him disbelieving. "What about his clothes, the books he brought?"

"I have given them to Harry," Dumbledore smiled. "What the Ministry doesn't know, won't hurt them."

Petunia reluctantly thanked him as Dumbledore nodded, taking a moment.

"May I speak with Dudl-"

A chorus of no.

Dumbledore respected their wishes, there was just a few details to wrap up as he pulled a letter from his rode.

He handed it to Vernon, the man standing nearest.

"What's this?" he asked as Petunia appeared beside him.

Vernon turned it over. "The Ministry of Magic?" he read, looking up with a scowl.

Dumbledore breathed deeply, unable to avoid these restrictions.

"Dudley is barred from entering Hogwarts' grounds, through any means he may find. And from attending any Magical Institution within Great Britain," he said, gesturing with his hand. "That letter is the official ruling, made by the Governors of Hogwarts, and the Ministry of Magic."

Ha, Vernon laughed. "Of course," he said. "Why not the whole world too? Since Dudley's such a menace."

He threw the letter away, the parchment thudding as it hit the floor.

"Get out."

Dumbledore bowed, taking his leave with a final word.

"Dudley is a remarkable wizard," he said, glancing between. "If he should want to continue his studies abroad, I can assist in the relevant procedures. Please don't hesitate to contact me."

Crack.

He was gone, leaving a scowling Vernon.

"He could have done that outside," he grouched, glancing down as Petunia retrieved the letter.

"Don't Petunia, it doesn't matter now."

She opened it anyway, reading through the items.

Dudley would need to know, she could already see him sneaking off to visit Harry as she read the last line.

In pain of punishment, 10 years in Azkaban Prison.

Break

Dudley sat against his bed, enjoying the floor as books spilled around him.

This was much better, he thought.

Hogwarts was too confining, too rigid for Dudley's personality.

Yes, as Dudley nodded to himself.

…

He through the book aside, the rigid spine thudding loudly against the wall. He sat up, groaning with frustration as a hand tugged through his hair.

This was painful, what was he supposed to do now?

Dudley leaned back, closing his eyes as his hands folded between his legs.

He'd put everything into going to Hogwarts, with Harry. There was nothing else he wanted, but to be back there. With Harry, even Draco; they could have been friends.

But things had changed as he glanced towards his door.

Harry was there and he was here.

Alone.

"Come in," he called, sitting up as his Mother knocked.

The door opened.

She tutted.

"Don't make a mess, Dudley," she said disapprovingly, glancing between the books sprawled around him.

He turned away, mumbling a quiet sorry.

Petunia sighed, coming in as she perched on his bed. "Mr Dumbledore came," she said, waiting for some reaction.

Dudley sniffed.

"I know, he left about 10 minutes ago."

Petunia hummed, not commenting. Knowing it was just one of those Dudley thing as she presented the letter, it had been in her hand all along.

Dudley frowned at the sound, the parchment crinkling noisily.

He took it, opening the broken seal.

It didn't take him long to read it, his Mother simply waiting, patient as she watched him.

He was a fast reader, she noted.

…

"…Azkaban."

She swallowed.

"You must listen, Dudley," she said seriously. "Lil – your Aunt, she told be about that place. It's hideous, and they'll send you there. If you give them the chance."

She was pleading, touching his shoulder as her fingers gripped him. "Promise me Dudley, that you won't try to visit Harry at Hogwarts."

He hesitated.

She gripped harder.

"I promise," he said solemnly. "I'll be better, I won't be so foolish again."

Petunia slumped, moving her hand as it ran through Dudley's hair.

"Thank you," she whispered, smirking as Dudley quickly shook her off.

He never liked when she did that as she rose, glancing back as he retrieved another book.

She tutted again, closing the door as Dudley rolled his eyes.

They were his books.

He read for a bit longer, contemplating the book he'd already read once before; he'd need to invade Harry's collection, not having read some of the more in-depth subjects on Magical Creatures.

Harry.

It hurt to think of him, he hadn't even said goodbye. Dudley wanted Bob back too, so he could send a letter to his cousin.

Alas, as Dudley scrunched his toes, the owl was far away as his attention drifted to the letter, still sitting beside him.

What a joke, he thought.

As if it wasn't bad enough. Now he couldn't even visit Harry.

It's as if they thought he'd try and covertly attend classes at Hogwarts, or steal another's wand to practice magic at another institution; he didn't even know if there were any in others in England.

Dudley would need to check that, and think about what it was he was going to do as he opened his hand.

At least he still had his wand, his fingers clasping possessively around the handle.

He'd need to remove whatever Olivander had placed on it, whatever it was that watched him still. It wasn't him specifically, but more the watching itself.

Something was monitoring his use of magic, yet it was just that, crude.

Dudley frowned as he felt the foreign magic, stuck inside beside the core of his wand. Like a parasite.

He could rip it out, regardless of what might happen, yet stopped himself.

Dudley couldn't be reckless, not with Azkaban looming over him as he placed the wand down, thinking deeply. He'd asked Gorble about the magic, weeks before, after returning from Diagon Alley. The man hadn't known, it was after his time.

They'd still discussed its potential purpose, settling on what Dudley knew to be true.

The Trace, that's what it was.

He'd found the term in the library, feeling the need to read some general knowledge on Magic between books on magical storage.

There had been a book just for it too, how wonderful that library was.

It made Dudley want to return, if only to steal a few books… no, he shook the thought away. He couldn't fall for his greed.

Something firmed within his mind, as ideas formed.

Dinner was almost ready, he'd watch TV with his Dad for now, leaving it all for tomorrow.

It would be a busy day.

Break

The great hall was packed as breakfast was served, with each house filling it's ranks as even the 7th years filled their plates.

They weren't generally morning people, yet here they were, waiting with the rest.

It wasn't long before a screech drew their attention, the first of the owls swooping in. Some carried boxes, while some with letters and rolled parchment.

Most, carried the mornings edition of the Daily Prophet. It was highly anticipated, yet for all the wrong reasons as an owl flapped towards the Gryffindor table.

It landed roughly, knocking a few bowls aside as it slowed to a stop. It hopped upright, unfazed as it ambled towards its red-headed recipient.

"Bloody bird," said Ron, grumbling as Erol arrived near him.

It stuck its leg out, looking away towards some bacon on Hermione's plate.

She moved it away, glaring at the bird as Ron took the paper.

"No," she said. "Not for you."

The owl hooted, offended as it flapped away from a shooing Hermione.

"You need a new owl," she commented, glancing at Ron who wasn't listening.

He read the paper, scanning the front page with an unhappy frown as Hermione tried to peer across.

She jumped.

"Rubbish!" said Ron, flicking the paper away and onto the table. "That's not what happened!"

A few glanced their way, not commenting as they read the same passage. Some had even formed groups, sharing the page as the entire hall mimicked to some degree.

Harry was absent, having eaten early before their first class. He was probably in the common room, reading or something similar.

Hermione didn't have an owl, having chosen a cat with an ugly face.

Ron could be quite mean, sometimes as she reached across.

"May I?"

Ron grunted, his mouth already full with sausage.

Hermione made a face, tugging the paper near as she looked at the front page.

Boy Who Lived Cousin Expelled!

Well, that wasn't untrue, she thought as she read the rest of the smaller headline.

Dudley Dursley, Harry Potter's Muggleborn cousin, was expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry after barely attending a day!

Hermione looked below, seeing a picture of Dudley and Harry, wondering how they'd taken it.

The two were smiling, walking together through Diagon Alley; there were people around, the image cropped to show just them.

Hermione thought they looked alike, even if the ink lost their green eyes. The footage, which to her played like a video, ended as Dudley glanced towards the camera.

Hmm, she watched it play again.

Yes, she was right. He was scowling.

She smiled, letting it dim as she looked at the rest of her table, all reading similarly. She heard a few mutterings, comments on something further ahead.

Their words were harsh, unforgiving.

She read on.

It wasn't good, the article seemed to paint Dudley as an up and coming Dark Wizard, with remarks made on the leniency he'd been shown.

Azkaban?

She frowned, not having heard the term as she turned to Ron.

"Ron," she said. "What's Azkaban?"

He turned to her, hearing just the word as he swallowed. "The prison?"

Hermione's eyes bugged. "Prison?" she said, shocked as she glanced back to the paper.

Ron nodded, understanding as he followed her gaze sadly.

"If he ever comes back here, he'll be sent there."

Hermione listened loosely, reading the passage about Dudley's covenants.

"It says he can't go to school!" she said angrily, flipping the paper down as others looked her way. "That's barbaric."

A few began to mock her, some girls she didn't even know.

So what if she used big words? They were just jealous.

"I-It's not so bad," said a different boy. "He can always hire private tutors, or attend a f-foreign school."

Ron scoffed, looking at Neville. "But he's English! They won't just accept him; my Dad says it's almost impossible to attend a foreign school."

Neville looked away, thoroughly rebuked as Hermione scowled at Ron. "Don't say that Ron!" she snapped, looking back at Neville. "It's normal in the Muggle world."

Ron glanced her way, then at Neville.

"Well, it's different here."

Hermione ignored him, turning back to Neville.

"Do you think he could go Neville?"

Neville looked thoughtful as they ignored Ron's huff.

"I think so," he said, now fiddling with his hands. "My Great-Grandmother went to Beauxbatons, she was English."

"Yeah, but one of her parents was French, right?"

Neville glanced at Ron, nodding.

"Yeah," he said, feeling silly.

Hermione looked down. "Dudley's like me," she said sadly. "He doesn't have any magical ancestors."

Yes, was the general mood as people finished reading the paper. Hermione folded hers, handing it back to Ron.

"You can keep, if you want."

Hermione wasn't sure, instead settling for a nod as she placed it down between them.

"Thank you."

Ron smiled shyly, standing as he gathered his things. Hermione followed, slipping the paper into her bag as she went.

She'd keep it, a part of her wanting to remember Dudley, glad that she had a picture to keep.

The hall emptied, the day moving on like normal as she headed for class.

Break

The corridor was cold as Draco walked alone, remembering the way as he headed back to his common room. He'd managed to split from Crabbe and Goyle, leaving them early as they continued eating.

He needed to think, with recent events making him odd, unsettled.

Draco may not be a fan of Mudbloods, nor Harry Potter for that matter. But something about Dudley's expulsion didn't sit right with him, which he blamed on everything except his own conscience.

Dudley was a gifted wizard, he'd give him that. Not that he would if anyone asked.

He was Draco Malfoy, not some sympathetic Half-blood.

"Serpentine," he said, stepping back as the portrait opened. Draco stepped in, walking slowly as his thoughts bubbled.

He'd broken his arm, for the first time. It had hurt beyond anything he'd ever experienced. Equally too, the feeling of Madam Pomphrey healing it.

Dudley was responsible, he should be angry; yet, he respected him.

The sorting was his first clue, the way he'd immediately been placed into Slytherin resonated with him. It had been the same for his Father, and then him.

Dudley was one of them, in spirit, and magic.

Draco suppressed a shiver, feeling a phantom throb from his arm as he pictured the spells, searing stone as if it were his morning butter.

Fantastic. Extraordinary. Powerful.

Those were the words that came to his head when he thought of it, not that Dudley was beneath or somehow inferior for something, he couldn't even see!

His parents told him one thing, yet his eyes told another.

It felt wrong, even more so as he arrived within his room.

A letter. From his Mother.

He picked it up, why was this here?

She'd seen him just last night, briefly true but… had she sent this before?

Curious, as Draco sat by the small dresser, using the top as he broke the seal.

He read slowly, his frown growing as he went.

Don't antagonise him, she said.

Draco wanted to laugh, it was a little late for that as he checked its date.

He stopped, recalling the date he'd departed on the Express.

She wrote of a boy she'd seen, met even, some weeks before. About how he used magic to levitate his and Harry Potter's things onto the train.

His Mother said, towards the bottom of the page, that he should try to befriend Dudley… he slumped.

Truly, he felt very wrong today as he placed the letter down.

"Tempus."

He'd need to leave soon as he gathered his books. While most brought them to breakfast, Draco preferred to travel light as he headed for class.

AN

I think I enjoyed writing Hermione's bit the most, just seemed to flow.

Thanks for staying tuned as well, latest chap is up on Pa – treon dot com / bactum too if you want to read ahead and support me too. (chap 22).

Till next time!