The Determenation of Dudley Dursley
The sun greeted Dudley warmly, the teen having long since been awake. It had been hard to stay asleep, considering just what today was. His nerves were frazzled. He had never been to court before and now he was about to go to one in front of a bunch of Wixen.
Frazzled nerves were an understatement for just how afraid he truly felt.
He was dressed in his Sunday best, even though his family had never once attended a service. That one time when they dragged Harry to one to ‘have the freak blessed out of him’ when he was five notwithstanding. All the same, he had gotten up extra early to press his clothes and went as far as to shine his shoes. He was about to stand before those in charge of Harry’s fate and he was going to make sure he was taken seriously by all of them.
He nervously glanced at the clock, watching the minutes tick by. He was due to be picked up in an hour and though the man who was picking him up had assured him he would make it on time, it didn’t make the teen worry any less. He couldn’t even fiddle with his phone to occupy himself, having been told that he couldn’t bring any of his ‘muggle’ devices with him.
He turned his head towards the steps as he heard the arrival of his father, the man’s heavy gait thundering down each step. Dudley could hear the support rattling and once again he couldn’t help but put himself in Harry’s shoes. Waking up each morning not to a soft alarm, but to the sound of someone going down the stairs, walking atop him like he was nothing more than an object.
Something he was complicit in growing up.
Vernon stumbled into the kitchen, his beady eyes looking over his son with a dismissive grunt before opening the fridge. With Harry not around to cook meals, something his dad made sure to complain about every day, the man had resorted to cooking his own breakfast as his Mum always seemed to prefer to lie in for a few extra hours.
“Today’s the day,” came a grunted attempt at conversation as Vernon threw at least five links of sausage onto a cold pan, “Going to help out that freak when he should be going to jail for what he did to you,”
“He’s not a freak Dad and he saved me. I’ve told you this,”
“And I’ve told you that boy did something to you,” Vernon shouted, rounding on Dudley, brandishing the pack of sausages, “Him and his ruddy, freakish magic of his probably messed with your brain,”
This had been the running argument for the past few weeks. His dad would go out of his way to tell Dudley that Harry was not worth saving. In turn, Dudley would just nod to placate the man before he ran out of steam and left for work. It was a tiresome dance and Dudley was glad that today, no matter the outcome, was going to be the end of it.
“Something wrong with your brain,” Dudley muttered under his breath, at least he thought he said it quietly
“What did you say, boy,” Vernon’s face turned purple shockingly quick
“N-nothing,” Dudley quickly stammered out, but his words did little to stem the tide that was his father’s ire
“The only thing wrong with me is the fact that I even let that freakish whelp step foot in here. I should have put my foot down when your Mum brought him in here. I told her to throw him out or give him to some nuns. Instead, I caved and now look what it has done. My own son mouthing off to me like he knows better,”
Dudley took a step back, trying to pull himself as far away as possible from his father. He had seen him like this before, ranting and raving mad. Yet it had always been from the outside looking in. Watching as he rounded on Harry for daring to be smart. For being a freak.
For the simple crime of just being alive.
“You’re wrong about him. About Harry. He isn’t a freak. If anything, we are the ones who acted like freaks,”
The words were spoken with conviction, as Dudley stood tall, for the first time seeing just how small his father was when compared to him,
“What sort of family locks one of their own in a space under the stairs for most of their life? Forces them to cook meals when they were a child? Refuse to even call them by their name,”
“Now you see here boy,” Vernon yelled, no doubt rousing the neighbors with his rage, “What we did to that boy was for his own good. I wasn’t going to let some freak destroy this family,”
“Stop calling him a freak,” Dudley all but growled
“I have no idea what freakishness he did to you, but I will beat it out of you the same way I tried with him,” Vernon responded, cocking his hand back to slap Dudley across the face.
It hurt. Burned even, as Dudley stumbled for a moment. As much as it hurt him, he knew his father had hit Harry harder. And just like his cousin, he wasn’t going to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him in pain. He stood tall again, his body tense. He looked his father dead in the eyes and smirked at him.
“That’s enough,” came the shrill voice of his mum, the woman standing in the entryway of the kitchen, “Vernon, I’ll cook you some breakfast. Why don’t you go and do some work in your office?”
Dudley and his father looked each other down for a few more moments before Vernon broke away. He groused a bit as he walked away, not sparing his wife or son a second glance. His steps became distant as he lumbered upstairs and the sound of the door to what was once Harry’s room slammed shut.
“You know better than to provoke him,” Dudley’s mum eventually said, letting go of a breath in the process, “He just wants what’s best for us,”
“And treating Harry like filth is what was best for us,” Dudley shot back, though with none of the venom he had for his father, “We kept him in a cupboard until he was eleven,”
“It…was for our safety,” Petunia couldn’t even look her son in the face, instead turning to the fridge to fish out some eggs to go with the sausage left behind on the cold pan, “He was dangerous,”
“How was he dangerous Mum? He never hurt us,”
“What about your birthday? When he trapped you in the horrible room with that disgusting snake,” she countered, still not looking at Dudley as she turned toward the oven.
“The snake wasn’t in there mum, and I was being a prat. If Harry trapping me in a room makes him dangerous, then what does that make me,”
“Dudders, you aren’t like hi-,” she didn’t get a chance to finish.
“I beat Harry up, every day when we were growing up. I mean…really hard. The first time I made him bleed after pushing him down a hill, I was afraid that I was going to be in trouble when we came home and he was crying. Instead, you gave me a cookie while Dad beat Harry again before tossing him into the cupboard,”
Petunia didn’t say anything.
“I thought, for years, that Harry’s name was just ‘Freak’. That he was only there for me to push around because Dad said it was good for him. And when he started school and showed just how smart he was, you both punished him for it,”
“We thought he was using magic to steal all your clever and smart ideas sweetie,” the reasoning didn’t seem to resonate in her voice as she spoke.
“Harry doesn’t need magic to be smart, he just is Mum. He’s the smartest kid I know and all he ever wanted from us is a family,”
“You don’t know what you are talking about Dudley,” her hands gripped the edge of the sink tightly
“Harry is our family Mum. He was Aunt Lily’s so-,”
“That enough!” Petunia turned slowly, tears in her eyes and fury shaking her voice, “That’s enough Dudley. That world…it is dangerous. Harry is dangerous and I don’t want him taking you away from me,”
Dudley wanted to say something, but his mum held up her hand,
“When Lily went to that school, she came back…different. Changed. Gone was my little sister and in her place was this child that cared more about toadstools and biting teacups than anything else. We couldn’t talk about anything like we used to. The longer she stayed there, the more of her was taken away from me. Until, one day, I woke up in the morning to find out that her world finally took all of her. Left nothing for me but a crying child that I now had to care for,
“That world that Harry is from, stole my little sister from me. Took her bit by bit until all that was left was a body in a casket. I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to get pulled into that world, how Lily tried to pull me into it. I may have been harsh on Harry, but can’t you see I did it for us? For all of us,”
There was silence. Silence and the sound of meat cooking on the stove. Dudley looked at his mum, seeing the frustration and pain that just seemed to be coming off of her in waves. While Dudley was not the perfect barometer for understanding emotions, he could understand her pain. At least in some parts.
“I know you lost Aunt Lily, Mum, but what do you think she’d have to say about the way you’ve treated Harry,”
Mother and son looked at each other, a gulf of silence between them as Dudley’s words hung in the air. His mum looked ready to say something, her mouth opening before she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she returned to cooking, keeping her head down as she tended to the sizzling meat.
“I’ll have breakfast ready before you leave,” she muttered, and the silence returned once more to the kitchen.
Dudley took the out and walked away, heading for his room. As he did, his eyes lingered on the small closet under the stairs. For the smallest moment, he was taken back to when he had been no older than five, home from school. How he wanted Harry to come out and play with him. How his cousin had opened the locks after Dudley spent so long begging and throwing a tantrum to come out. The look of joy on Harry’s face as the two of them danced about to some show on the telly. Just two kids, being happy.
Only for his father to come in and beat Harry for escaping the closest to infect Dudley with his freakishness.
Dudley wished he had understood back then what he did now. That his father wasn’t a good person. And that Harry deserved so much more than just a cupboard under the stairs. Hopefully, knowing who his actual parents were, he’d get the life he truly deserved.
When the hour had finally come, Dudley had expected the man who was going to be taking him to the trial to come through the floo, just like he had with his family last summer. Instead, he was shocked when he heard the doorbell ring. Knowing that his father was already on his last nerve and his Mum never liked answering the door if she didn’t have to, Dudley rushed to the front and opened the door to the man who was taking him to the trial.
“Mr. Dudley, a pleasure to see you again,” Mr. Weasley hastily said as he pulled his attention away from the doorbell that had seemed to draw his focus, “I do hope you and your family are ready. It promises to be a long day for all of us,”
“Family? I thought only I was called in for Harry’s trial,” Dudley couldn’t help but think how bad this was all going to go if his father was anywhere near Harry, let alone surrounded by a bunch of Wixen.
“So, did I, but as it turns out there is another trial right after Harry’s. One that concerns him and his custody. As the only people who have had custody over Harry that we can reach, they have to come as well,”
“And how hard would this trial be for Harry if they weren’t there,”
Mr. Weasley didn’t say anything, but his face spelled it out enough for Dudley,
“Fine. You should probably come in. How come my parents didn’t get a letter or anything,” Dudley shut the door behind them man as they walked towards the living room
“Oh, the Ministry tried to get in contact with them. Sent owls and everything, but they never got a response. Figured that, since they were Muggles, they didn’t have a way to respond and that they understood they were being summoned,” Mr. Weasley answered, though his wandering eyes kept getting distracted by random bits of things around the house, “How wondrously odd,” he muttered as he looked up at the ceiling fan turning lazily in the air
“Couldn’t you all have sent a bunch of letters, just to be sure? Like you did with Harry,” Dudley asked as he thought back to the torrent of letters that had come shooting out of the floo when he was eleven.
If Mr. Weasley had an answer, he didn’t get a chance to say it, as the thunderous steps of Dudley’s father filled the air, alongside his shouting.
“Out,” he roared, “I am not standing for this freakishness anymore. Out,” he demanded, rounding the corner and brandishing a cricket paddle before him
“Oh, hello again,” Mr. Weasley looked unphased, even though Dudley had seen his right hand slowly reaching into his pocket, “Mr. Dursley, correct? I was hoping you’d already be dressed so we can make it to the Ministry for the-,”
“I’m not going,” the man seemed to be stuck on shouting, and his voice refused to lower in volume, “It’s bad enough your kind has been filling my son's head with your evil words. I won’t let you do the same time. I don’t care what happens to that boy. Let him rot in jail for all I care,”
“Mr. Dursley, if you read the letter then you’d know that-,” Mr. Weasley seemed intent on staying as pleasant as possible and Dudley was grateful for that. He didn’t want to have to get in between his father’s paddle and Mr. Weasley’s wand.
“I didn’t read any of your ruddy letters. Burned them all I did. Even the ones that you freaks snuck into my office. I washed my hands of that sorry excuse of a boy the moment your lot came in here and took him away. I’m not dealing with your kind or any of the trouble you all bring,”
Mr. Weasley heaved a sigh, still holding on to his large well of patience while talking to Vernon.
“All the same, these are court summons, and the Wizengamot don’t take no for an answer. It is easier if you just come with me now and not have to deal with them later,”
“Are you threatening me? In my own home,” Vernon roared at Mr. Weasley, looking ready to rush at the man. Dudley had been ready for it, moments away from stepping in, when a voice called out over the noise,
“That’s enough Vernon. That’s…that’s enough,” voiced Petunia Dursley.
She was dressed in a simple outfit, nothing fancy but neat and well-kempt. In her hands was a cream-colored letter with a red seal on the back, broken open by the looks of things.
“Vernon, go get dressed. The sooner this is done, the sooner we can all move past this,”
“Poppet. What did they do to you? Did that freak nephew of yours do something to your mind too,” Vernon asked
“No, Vernon. Unlike you, I read the letter. The moment this is over…we can move on. Now, hurry up so we won’t be late,”
Her tone was measured, even yet stern. She didn’t even glance at Vernon as he walked past her, still grousing about freaks and whatnot under his breath. Petunia took a moment to steady herself before finally addressing the only other adult in the room.
“I remember you. You came barging in through my floo last year. Made a right mess of the carpet,” she said curtly, her head held high
“Sorry about that. I tend to forget that Muggle households aren’t built for Floo travel. I do hope it wasn’t too much of a bother to clean out,”
Petunia wrinkled her nose as if remembering something unpleasant before coughing slightly,
“When we do this Harry will be placed somewhere else, correct,”
“That’s the long and short of it. We are just trying to make sure Harry gets placed somewhere-,”
“Somewhere not here,” Petunia finished, a knowing glance shared between the two adults.
“Right. The sooner it is done, the sooner we can move on from…all of this,” Mr. Weasley finished.
Dudley watched as his mum kept her lips tightly shut, her face unreadable as she sat stiffly in one of the chairs in the living room. Mr. Weasley, in an effort to not cause a scene, opted to just stand, but was constantly muttering to himself as he looked at the random objects around the house,
“I must ask, is that the enter-nets that I have heard about,” the man asked, pointing at the television of all things.
“Uh, no. That’s the telly. The internet isn’t a…physical thing,” Dudley responded, chuckling a bit
“I thought Muggles carried it around in their pockets. On those black slabs you all hunch over,” the man was curious, giving Dudley his full attention
“Oh, you mean cellphones,” Dudley fished his out of his pocket, walking over to Mr. Weasley, ignoring the hiss of warning from his mum, “It doesn’t really carry the internet but you can access it,”
For the next fifteen minutes, while the three of them waited for Vernon to, hopefully, come lumbering down the steps, Dudley gave Mr. Weasley a crash course on what the internet was. At least to the best of his ability. Despite the difference in their ages, Mr. Weasley didn’t condescend or act like he knew better than Dudley. If anything, the man was happy to let Dudley explain away, asking questions as politely as he could.
It felt nice to just have an adult listen to what he knew, instead of trying to talk down or over to him.
Their moment was cut short as Vernon finally came back down the steps. The man, thankfully, had put away the cricket bat but had come down looking rather disheveled. He had put on a suit, or at least attempted to. The shirt was wrinkled and the pants were barely hanging out by the belt he had haphazardly looped around his waist, missing a few rungs.
It was clear the man was trying his hardest to make things as difficult as possible.
“Alright, hopefully, we won’t be too late for this…freakshow,” Vernon muttered, keeping his distance away from Mr. Weasley.
The wizard, still keeping his happy demeanor, gave a small shake of his head,
“Not at all. I figured it might take some time before you all would be ready so I made sure to come an hour before it was time. Now, let me just-,”
The man pulled out his wand with ease and quickly cast something at Vernon. The larger man didn’t even have time to rage before his clothing started to fix itself on his body. His shirt tucked itself into his pants, wrinkles were blasted away. Even his belt was magically pulled through all the rings on his waist. In just a few moments Vernon Dursley looked ever the presentable gentleman and his face was utterly livid about it.
“Now, seeing as Muggles aren’t used to Wixen's means of travel, I really do suggest you all do exactly as I say. Don’t want you all to end up someplace too far away from here,”
“And what’s wrong with just taking the car,” it was Petunia who had asked that, clearly not wanting to endure any form of travel that would leave one's living room covered in ashes
“Car? Oh, you must mean your auto-mobile. Well, that would be fine, though there isn’t any place to park. That and I already have a Floo time cleared for us. Now, let us be on our way then,”
Mr. Weasley brandished his wand once more and with a casual flick, the hearth roared to life with a bright orange flame. Not only that, but the entire hearth twisted about until it became large enough for at least six full-sized adults to stand comfortably next to one another.
“Wicked,” Dudley said, ignoring his dad's mutters about freaks or the way his Mum seemed to close in on herself more
“Right, seeing as we have a larger group, I went ahead and got approval for a mass travel through the Floo. Just go ahead and step into the Floo and we will be on our way,”
The way Mr. Weasley said that, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, made Dudley laugh. Not just a chuckle either, but a full-on cackle of delight that hadn’t come from him in ages.
“Harry was right, Wixen are absolutely mad,”
With his laugh out of the way, Dudley took a step towards the Floo. Despite being able to see the flames clear as day, there was no heat coming off of them. It was rather cool and pleasant to the touch.
“Dudley, get out of there. This is clearly some trap that these freaks made to hurt us,” Vernon chimed in, having not moved from his spot. If anything, at the display of magic he had seen, the man had hidden behind his wife.
“I’m sorry, is that the only word you know,” the tone of voice from Mr. Weasley had caught them all off guard
“What did you say to me,” Vernon's voice rumbled with anger
“You know, when my boys came here to take Harry away after having only known him for a year, I was under the impression that they had been exaggerating. Bars on his window they told me. Looked like he hadn’t eaten since he left Hogwarts. Surely, this couldn’t be the case. I know Muggles are a bit sit in their ways, but they surely wouldn’t go to such lengths,” Mr. Weasley closed the gap between himself and Vernon
“Yet here we are, and every time you speak you remind me of how foolish I was to think my boys would ever make up such things. Hearing you now, I only dread to think what you said to poor Harry. How you made him feel within the walls of this house. I am not a violent man, but I fought in the last Wixen War and I have no trouble protecting my family. Or avenging them,”
The silence chilled Dudley more than the fire ever could, as he watched his father slowly deflate under the words of a man much smaller than he was. Both his father and mum shuffled their way over to the Floo, doing their best to avoid touching the flame altogether. When Mr. Weasley joined them, Dudley couldn’t help but send a small smile of thanks to the man. The wizard merely nodded with a smile of his own before pulling a small bag out from his pocket.
“Right. No one says a word, or else we are liable to end up somewhere less than pleasant. Ministry of Magic!”
When Dudley would be older, he would tell his children of his first moments traveling through the Floo with a whimsical nature. He would not tell them the truth about it, about how he stumbled face-first onto a marble floor, limbs tangled up with both of his parents. The sensation of travel had been awfully fast, but the landing was something that left a lot to be desired.
Mr. Weasley was quickly on hand, having exited the Floo rather gracefully. The man helped get them all untangled, even Vernon who spent a full minute cursing out the man before he noticed the number of Wixen that were stopping to look at him. Dudley watched as the man turned slightly ashen in fear, the color draining from his normally rage-filled face. It was truly a sight to behold.
“Are…are we safe here,” Dudley's mum asked, the woman slinking over to Mr. Weasley as her eyes darted around, “They aren’t going to…hurt us,”
“Why would they hurt you? Wixen are just people. Same as you and me,” Mr. Weasley responded simply, “Now, let’s get a move on. We may be early but that is no reason to dawdle”
Dudley easily fell in step behind Mr. Weasley, though he kept finding something new and wonderous to look at. Harry had, when they started talking with each other, told him about how truly magically his world could be. Sure, he often groused about how archaic could be at times, but he always made sure Dudley understood just how amazing it could be. Seeing just this small glimpse of it, Dudley couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.
The way paper airplanes fly overhead. The occasional hoot of owls somewhere in the distance. The sheer size and scope of the building he was currently in. All of it was a site to behold and Dudley was utterly struck by it all.
“This is what it’s like for Harry? When he goes to school,” Dudley asked breathlessly as he walked a bit closer to Mr. Weasley.
“I’d say somewhat. Your cousin has a knack for getting into…well let’s say very interesting adventures every year, but for the most part yes. This is just what life is like for Wixen,”
Dudley nodded ducking as a series of letters came fluttering over his head. He looked back at his parents and saw them huddled tightly together. His dad still looked fearful, jumping at every little thing that stood out to him. His mum though, had an odd look on her face. One that Dudley just couldn’t put a word to.
“Ah, here we are. We just need to take these lifts down to the lobby of the courtroom and we will wait down there till it’s time,”
Mr. Weasley directed the group into the lift, Vernon eyeing the golden box as if it were going to grow teeth and devour him whole. It was only when Mr. Weasley got into the lift first and nothing happened, did the man go inside. It was a tight fit as Dudley and his mum joined them, but the box gave a groan and suddenly doubled in space, with Vernon yelling out in shock.
“This is ruddy madness,” he muttered darkly once the lift doors closed and the box rocketed backward, “Ruddy madness. Your whole lot makes no bloody sense. Elevators that don’t just go up and down. Flying letters. Traveling through fireplaces. It isn’t normal,”
“I work here. This is about as normal as you can get. It might not be what you are used to, Mr. Dursley, but it is normal for Wixen. Just because you may not understand it, doesn’t mean it is madness,” was all Mr. Weasley said about that as they spent the rest of the ride on the lift in silence.
Eventually, the golden gates opened as the lift came to a stop. The group found themselves in a decently sized atrium, one with several robe-wearing witches and wizards bustling about their day. It was decidedly less noisy and chaotic here than it had been in the lobby they had entered into. The silence was almost deafening but understandable. From what little Dudley knew about law and courtrooms, they did not take kindly to outbursts. He couldn’t help but glance at his father, who looked less pale but at least hadn’t said anything. Yet. Mr. Weasley had run off, going to check to see when they could go into the courtroom itself, leaving the Dursleys to mill about the atrium.
As he stood there in the hall, Dudley was starting to feel his first true wave of uneasiness. Here he was, someone who was not a part of this world, and he was set to defend his cousin to a lot of Wixen. Wixen who would probably not put much stock into his words. He recalled one of them, that Kingsley fellow when he told him he’d have to testify that it was unusual for Muggles to testify on behalf of a witch or wizard. Not unheard of, just unusual. Dudley had told himself that he was able to handle the pressure.
Now though, he wasn’t so sure. As his hands started to sweat and he began to pace, Dudley was starting to have second doubts. He knew Harry needed him, at least from what it seemed like to him. However, what if he made it worse? What if they viewed his testimony as less than because he wasn’t magical like them and it just discredited any hope Harry had and getting out of this? The apprehension and anxiety were building in his chest and Dudley was sure it was going to explode at any second.
“Dudley, what’s wrong? You look pale,” his mother asked, as she peeled herself away from a still fidgety Vernon to attend to her son, “You didn’t eat anything someone gave you here, did you,” she asked in a hushed whisper
“No mum,” he recalled the sweet that one of Mr. Weasley’s twins had left for him. In hindsight, the long tongue gag was funny, though not at the time, “I just got nervous is all. I don’t want this to end badly for Harry,”
“You don’t have to do this. We could just go home and move on. Let that boy end up wherever he will,”
“He’s still family Mum,” Dudley lied, while he knew of Harry’s true parents, he wasn’t about to let his mum know that, “I have to help him. To make up for,” he trailed off after that
To her credit, his mum looked conflicted at his words, mulling something over in her mind before sighing heavily
“I…do you think he will forgive us if we do this? For everything that we’ve done,”
“He might not, but he deserves for us to at least try and make amends,” Dudley answered, feeling his determination and conviction return to him as he spoke.
“Then keep your chin up and don’t let them bother you,” his mum finally said, brushing a tear from her eye before clasping her arms around her son, “You are my son and I know I don’t say it nearly enough, but you can do anything you set your mind to. And I am so proud that you…are so much better than I ever could have been,”
As long as he could remember, Dudley had never really been hugged by his mum. His dad had put a stop to it when he got older, saying that real men don’t get hugs. That his mum had never hugged him and that he turned out perfect. Right now, though, as he stood there in his mum’s embrace, Dudley just felt like everything in the world was right. That being here, hugging his mum made everything that he was about to face that much easier. A sense of pride and love welled up inside of him, and Dudley felt pity that his father had never felt such a thing with his mum.
The two pulled apart just as Mr. Weasley came walking over to them.
“Alright Dudley, they are ready for you. Just stick to the facts and don’t let any of them startle you,” he said, as he led Dudley over to the imposing doors leading to the supposed courtroom, “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, just wait out here for a spell. Once I get your son inside I’ll be taking you to the waiting room for your trial,”
Dudley barely heard what his father said, no doubt some ire-filled rant. Instead, he focused on his mum who gave him a smile and a nod. It was more than enough to do what needed to be done. Letting Mr. Weasley take the lead, Dudley walked forward towards the large doors before him. As they opened, he was shocked not only by the silence that came from its depths but the number of heads that had just turned to face him.
“Alright, Dudley. Let’s do this. For Mum, Harry, and Aunt Lily,” he muttered to himself before he strode into the courtroom proper and the heavy doors closed behind him.