Dudley's Fault
Vernon Dursley would go to his grave and die on the hill that it all started when Harry James Potter was left on their doorstep with the milk bottles.
Petunia Dursley would go to her grave and die on the hill that it all started when she attempted to cut three year old Harry James Potter’s hair because he always came back from the barber looking as if he’d never been.
Dudley Dursley would go to his grave and die on the hill that it all started three months into primary at age five when Harry James Potter shrunk his sweater and turned their teacher’s hair blue.
Petunia would be correct to an extent because it was where young Harry James Potter learned that he could do things no one else could do. Things that made him stand out. Things that made him special.
But Dudley would be one hundred percent correct that it truly started on that cold November morning in 1985 when -in an attempt to embarrass his baby cousin- Dudley “suggested” to his mum that Harry should wear the Christmas sweater his aunt Marge had gotten him for Christmas the year before.
It was a huge monstrosity of red coarse material with a giant messily sewn Christmas tree in lime green with a huge tilted star with -what might have been- glitter to make it “shimmer.” There were little pom poms glued on as ‘ornaments’ and a wide array of presents in various colours that all clashed horribly. It was small on Dudley’s frame, but hung off Harry’s frame like a dress. Dudley was sure it would be fantastic teasing material for himself and his friends when they got to school.
Only…it wasn’t the ugly monstrosity he’d been expecting by the time they arrived at school.
It fitted Harry’s tiny frame just fine. The material now looked comfy, cosy even, instead of course. The bright shade of red had darkened a little and the wonky tree and star were now perfectly centred with the tree a nice shade of pine green and the star outlined in a soft golden thread that made it ‘pop.’ The pom poms were gone and replaced with a mixture of silver and blue sewn circles. And the presents around the bottom of the tree were organised chaos of varying colours that didn’t clash.
Dudley was infuriated!
The overweight blond was determined to do something to embarrass his little cousin. He’d already informed his friends about the monstrosity that was the sweater his cousin would be wearing and then Dudley had been mocked for calling Harry’s ‘pretty’ sweater a monstrosity. “Just because you couldn’t pull it off doesn’t mean he couldn’t Dud,” Piers -his best friend- had teased.
‘I’ll show him!’
And show him he did. It started by tripping his cousin into a snowbank, making sure the smaller toddler was soaking wet and shivering. Then he broke a handful of cleaning objects -a broom, a mop, a mop bucket- and squirted cleaning liquid everywhere. Bleach and something that smelled like lemons. A bottle of something that looked super expensive. He just made a huge mess -he was good at doing that- and then he locked Harry in the bathroom with the mess.
So, when their teacher -Mrs. Evelyn Davies- went searching for him, Harry would be found in the bathroom with the giant mess. There would be no wondering how he got locked in the bathroom nor how one tiny boy would have managed all of the destruction. Mrs. Davies would just jump right to the scolding and punishments.
“But-but I did-”
“Correct. You did cause the mess. Do you know how long it’s going to take Mr.Bonneville to get all of this cleaned up? How do you think your parents are going to feel about having to compensate the school for all of this broken material? Do you think they’re going to be happy that you’ve gone and cost them hundreds of pounds to replace all of it?”
The entire class was watching the teacher lay into the tiny child who already looked miserable and was looking more and more so as the lecture continued. After the third question involving ‘your parents’ Harry seemed to get fed up and Dudley got to watch in glee as the tiny brat exploded.
“My parents are dead!” Harry screamed, hands clenched at his sides and face red in embarrassment -and now anger- “they’ve been dead for years. They didn’t care then and I doubt they’re gonna care now. Plus, it wasn’t my fault. It was already like that when I got there and how could I have possibly locked myself in the bathroom from the outside while still being in the bathroom?!”
Things had begun to shake at this point, but no one in the room seemed to have noticed. Mrs. Davies' face went through a handful of emotions and colours before settling on anger. There was red high on her cheeks and her eyes glared at the green eyed boy.
“How dare you talk to me like that, you insolent little bas-brat. I will be contacting your guardians, whoever that might be, about your behaviour and the proper punishment will be dealt. Take your seat Hayden.”
Grumbling and stomping his way further into the room, smelling like cleaning solutions had spilled all over him, Harry muttered words he’d heard uncle Vernon mutter at night when he thought Harry was sleeping.
The thing that would be the true starting point, where it all began -according to Dudley Dursley- was just after lunch. They’d returned to the classroom and settled in to begin a new lesson when kids suddenly started laughing. They were whispering and pointing at Mrs.Davies as she tried to teach them about…something -Dudley wasn’t paying attention- and the woman kept pausing to shush them and sternly tell them to pay attention.
When the students continued to whisper and laugh she finally ceased trying to teach and demanded to know just “what is so funny that not a single one of you can pay attention to this lesson?”
At first no one said anything, but then her hair flashed blue and purple with a little duck sitting atop her head and it sent everyone into peels of laughter. One girl finally took pity on the teacher and calmed herself enough to point to the woman’s head -now neon orange and lime green streaked with a llama- and gasp out “your…your hair keeps…” she giggled again “it keeps changing colours.”
When Mrs.Davies went to demand an explanation for that her words came out as a quack. She paused with a frown and tried again only to get an oink. And everytime she tried to speak, the noise of whatever animal currently sat atop her head would come out.
A dog? Woof!
A cat? Meow!
A frog? Ribbit!
It got so bad that she finally threw her hands in the air and stomped out of the room. Only to come back in looking like a scolded child with the headteacher behind her looking exasperated. The man explained that Mrs.Davies would be leaving early due to ‘a very stressful day’ which the class knew meant that the headteacher thought their teacher had gone ‘round the bend.
And after that day, things seemed to change. So, yes, Dudley believed that it all happened because of him and he was very not happy about it.