Dudley Dursley couldn't recall if his cousin had ever not suffered from nightmares. Of course, he used to notice it less; when Harry was in the cupboard, all Dudley could manage to make out were muffled whimpers as his cousin slept. But now that he occupied Dudley's second bedroom, the moans from Harry's night terrors became obvious and increasingly harder to ignore. Especially when their adjacent bedrooms were only separated by a thin wall.
Nearly every night, Dudley would be awoken by Harry's cries. At first, he had tried to ignore it, but there was something haunting in his cousin's pleas; it became impossible to sleep as Dudley suffered through listening to the raw intensity of Harry's grief.
"Don't kill Cedric. Please, please, don't. Mom- Mom, help please, he's gonna - the cup-" Dudley heard his cousin's thrashing from the other room. "It's my fault, Mom, please-" Harry whined, his voice fighting its way out through choked sobs.
Dudley tried, to no avail, to block out the noise, stuffing his pillow over his head. It was miserable hearing his cousin's howls every night. In five minutes exactly, his father would be up to silence Harry, just as Dudley knew he would. All he had to do was wait. The nightmares were becoming progressively louder as the summer advanced; Harry's wails became more prominent, his cries more distinct. It would be a miracle if the whole of Privet Drive didn't know the name Cedric by now.
Precisely on schedule, just like all nights prior, Dudley's father went to wake Harry. His feet stomped loudly down the hall, each ringing step causing Dudley to wince in anticipation of the worst. He could hear his father cursing under his breath as he meticulously undid all the locks on Harry's room. He knew it would not be long before his cousin received punishment.
"Cedric- no, stop it, please," Harry whined in his sleep. "Don't touch him."
"Blasted boy," Dudley heard his father mutter angrily. "Always on about that stupid freak."
The locks gave way to his father's prodding as he stomped into his cousin's room. Dudley, making his way to his bedroom door, peered out to watch as the scene unfolded.
His father grabbed Harry roughly by the wrist, pulling him upward, startling the boy from the nightmare as he was tossed skywards like a ragdoll. "I'm warning you," Vernon snarled, twisting the skin of Harry's forearm enough to earn a whimper of pain Dudley could hear from the hall. "You wake me up one more time - and I don't care how old you are - you'll be stuffed in that cupboard for a week."
"Yes, sir." Harry choked out, a dazed look clouding his eyes. Clearly, he was still shaken from the dream.
"And if I hear any more whining about that freak friend of yours, you won't like what'll happen, boy." His father released his grip, pushing Harry down into the uneven mattress, and believing the situation resolved, moved to return to his room.
Dudley raced to his bed silently so his father would not notice he was awake and had been spying. He threw the covers on, feigning sleep, just as his father threw open the door to check on him. Dudley held still beneath the duvet, not daring to breathe. When Vernon deemed all was well, he returned to his quarters, and Dudley let out a heavy sigh of relief.
The next few days went without any noise at night, and the house went without another incident. Every morning at breakfast, Vernon praised how well he had slept, crowing about his uneventful night while Petunia dutifully agreed. Dudley, however, had noticed the darkening eye bags that adorned his cousin's face while serving the food. He had heard Harry shuffling about his room every night in what he assumed was an attempt to stay awake - both cousins knew you could only cheat sleep for so long.
The following evening, it seemed Harry could resist his body no longer. Dudley had lay awake, waiting for the insufferable shuffling to begin, but it didn't. The silence was frightening. He lay there in panic, hoping the nightmares would not resume and he wouldn't have to endure Harry's cries when Vernon was awoken.
Agonizingly long minutes ticked by until he heard his cousin weep Cedric's name. Unable to restrain himself to his room, Dudley followed his father into the hall, lingering by Harry's door frame as he watched his cousin get shoved awake.
"I gave you your warning, boy!" Vernon spit, his face turning a sickly purple as he shook Harry vigorously. "Get up." Harry awoke suddenly, shaking and covered in sweat while Vernon tightened his hold. Dudley felt his stomach plummet as his cousin thrashed beneath his father's firm grip, his small frame useless against the large man.
Still fogged from sleep, it seemed as though Harry only half-registered what his uncle had barked. He rose from his bed while an impatient, meaty hand yanked him forward into a chokehold. Dragging Harry toward the door, Vernon seemed to tighten his grip like a python ready to kill, his prey writhing under his massive constraint. Dudley backed away in shock as his father pushed past him, lugging Harry's small frame along the hardwood floor.
"I told you what you would make me do!" His father raged as Harry, who seemed to have regained consciousness, struggled beneath his grip.
"No-sir, I'll be good! I'll be quiet!" Harry beat his arms against the restraining hold - an attempt to free himself. He kicked and pounded to no avail, unshed tears welling in his eyes. Dudley watched on, horrified, as his father tightened his grip again. "No, please, Uncle Vernon, I'll be good," his cousin moaned as he was dragged down the stairs. Harry met Dudley's gaze, his green eyes pleading, begging Dudley to do anything. But he couldn't. He could not move.
He's not even wearing his glasses, Dudley noted.
"No, enough!" Vernon shouted as they reached the landing. "I've had just about enough of your foolish whining." He released his grasp in one vicious movement. Harry was flung against the cupboard, a loud thud stemming from the impact, and he crumpled to the floor, defeated. Dudley made his way down the stairs, his mother in his wake, halting at the post, watching his cousin clutch his head in pain on the ground. Petunia gripped her nightgown in distaste, placing a hand on Dudley's shoulder as the cupboard door was flung open. His father turned a dark shade of purple, the veins in what little neck he had bulging tremendously in his anger. "Get in," Vernon demanded, pointing at the small space beneath the stairs.
For a moment, it looked as though Harry was going to protest as he drew himself up from the ground, and Dudley half expected him to scream or run away. Instead, after a moment's hesitation, Harry hunched in on himself, flinching away from his uncle as he crept into the tiny space. The door was promptly locked.
"If I hear so much as a word, boy," Vernon began, whispering harshly into the grate, "You'll wish it had been just the cupboard."
Dudley scrambled back up the stairs to his room, not wanting to see anymore. He knew the routine now: Harry was supposed to be ignored until his punishment was served. But Dudley found he could no longer sleep, knowing his cousin was trapped beneath the stairs for the first time in years, with those pleading green eyes that begged him to interfere.
The following morning his parents set out to visit his Aunt Marge as they had been planning for weeks. His mother busied herself with packing as Dudley helped his father load the car. They moved methodically, and each of them invested in their specific tasks. But Dudley couldn't help his gaze drift to the cupboard under the stairs - he hadn't heard any noise since it was locked. Harry had been eerily quiet - noiseless to an extent Dudley found unsettling. Whenever he was this silent, it was easy to forget Harry resided in Number 4, Privet Drive. But it became impossible to ignore his presence when Dudley recalled the events of the previous evening.
"Listen to me, Duddy," his father smiled down on him as they stood by the door. "You keep him there, or he won't learn his lesson." Vernon handed him a slim key, winking at his son. "And you let me know if this funny business continues."
"Of course, father." Dudley forced himself to smile through his unease. Vernon pat him on the back as his parents turned to leave, his mother sparing no time to smother him in affection before they made their way to the car.
Dudley waved them off, waiting until the car was out of sight before he raced upstairs, clutching the key tight to his chest. He tapped open the door to his cousin's room, questioning his every move as he entered the small bedroom. This was uncharted territory: this was Harry's space now. He made his way in slowly, jumping when the bird that sat atop his dresser started hooting viciously. Quickening his pace to not offend her, Dudley grabbed his cousin's glasses off the bedside table, despite the bird's protests, and made his way down the stairs once more.
He walked towards the cupboard, brimming with caution, unsure of what he would find under the stairs. Slowly, exaggerating his movements as if he were calming an animal, he pressed the key firmly into the fasten, unlocking the entry. If Dad comes home, I'm screwed. He gulped, pushing down the thought as he pulled open the small door.
Dudley stomached his sick as light flooded into the cupboard. His cousin sat folded in on himself, his knees drawn into his chest at awkward angles as he lay atop his trunk. His broomstick and other various school supplies sat beside him, piled high in all surrounding directions, constricting his mobility to a cramped fetal position. Dudley was surprised he managed to fit at all - he had forgotten his mother had made Harry lock up his school things. Worst of all, Dudley noticed an old sheet of paper hanging loosely by degrading tape, the colored letters obviously scribbled by a child: Harry's Room - it read.
His cousin blinked up at him, green eyes squinting in the light. "Dudley?"
He couldn't speak. Instead, he cleared his throat, holding out his hand and presenting Harry with his glasses dumbfoundedly. Dudley watched as Harry moved to grab them slowly as if expecting the offer to be revoked at any second.
"Thanks," Harry spoke softly, turning the round frames over in his hands.
"Sure," was all he managed to say in response.
Harry glanced at the door, a question lurking in his gaze, and Dudley stepped aside, answering it, nodding his head for Harry to follow. He cringed as his cousin attempted to extract himself from his position, accidentally kicking over some books as he tried to stretch his legs. "At least it wasn't the cauldron," he heard Harry mutter to himself.
Dudley made his way into the kitchen, incapable of stomaching the cupboard any longer. He grabbed a plate of leftovers from the fridge and lowered himself into a chair at the table. Food was a distraction - it had always been.
Harry emerged moments later, placing his wand in his back pocket. It must have been locked up too, Dudley shivered. Eyeing his cousin warily, Harry moved to the fridge, careful to keep out of Dudley's reach. He grabbed some eggs and a few other ingredients before he ducked into a cabinet and returned with a frying pan.
"Er, you want some?" Harry asked awkwardly, turning to face him.
"Nah," Dudley shook his head, watching as his cousin moved gracefully throughout the kitchen until the smell of fresh bacon and eggs wafted throughout the room.
His work complete, Harry took his plate and sat on the other side of the table. Dudley stabbed uselessly at his food, his hunger dissipating, watching Harry scarf down his plate at record speed. He couldn't recall the last time he had seen his cousin eat. Unease swept through him again as Dudley tried to ignore why Harry would be so hungry. He didn't want to think about it - it was easier not to.
Once they both had finished, an uncomfortable silence took hold of the room, neither of them knowing how to continue. Dudley opened his mouth to say something - but he couldn't find the right words. There was too much to say, too much that they had never spoken about, too much he didn't know how to express. Harry cleared his throat, ripping him from his thoughts, "Why'd you do it?"
"What?"
"You know what."
"I dunno, Harry, just drop it," he bit out, harsher than he meant to.
Harry flinched, his eyes turning back to his empty plate. "You know I'll just go back when they're home," he whispered, so soft Dudley almost missed it.
He swallowed, "I know."
The words hung in the air, choking their conversation. Dudley writhed uneasily - he wasn't used to this with Harry. The silence was suffocating; it was abnormal.
"Who's Cedric?" Dudley asked. "Your boyfriend?" He teased, hoping to gain a reaction from his cousin - to return to normalcy.
"Shut your mouth, Dudley." His response was familiar.
"Well, it's always 'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric! He's going to-'"
"I said shut it, Dudley." Harry stood suddenly, slamming his fist down onto the table as the overhead lights began flickering. "You don't get to say his name."
Dudley stiffened as the lights flared more aggressively, "You can't do magic, Harry. They'll know."
"You don't get to say his name," his cousin repeated, louder.
"Why's it such a big deal? I'm tired of losing sleep over this," he puffed, rising from his chair. "Clearly, Dad's tired too."
Harry flinched at the mention of his father, his eyes widening slightly. Dudley regretted it immediately as he watched the anger leave his cousin's eyes, a glassy look overtaking them in its place. "Just drop it, okay?" Harry whispered, his gaze darting to the table below.
"Harry-" Dudley began, but his cousin cut him off. Harry's face had gone slack, and as if in a trance, he grabbed the empty plates in front of him and moved to the sink.
He turned on the tap, letting the water warm beneath his fingers. "How could I forget about the dishes? She'll be mad if there's a mess," Harry muttered as Dudley rounded the table, making his way into the kitchen. "And if she's mad, then I'll go back sooner-"
"Harry, they won't be back for three days. You don't have to do this now," Dudley said, confused as if it were obvious.
His cousin rolled up his sleeves, beginning his work on the dishes methodically as Dudley froze. Small, intricate lines littered Harry's forearms. Some were red and raw, while others appeared to be healing, fading to small, white linear bumps. There wasn't a part of his skin Dudley could see that wasn't marked; too many to be an accident, too precise to not be self-inflicted.
"What have you done?" Dudley exhaled, his eyes locked on the offending skin.
Harry turned to him, his eyes widening, tugging down his sleeves. "Nothing," his gaze hardened, a challenge.
"It is clearly not nothing-"
"Ya," he puffed, "it is."
"It fucking isn't - did you do those?"
"Why the hell do you care, Dudley?" Harry sneered. "Isn't this just another thing that makes me freakish? Why don't you just run to Daddy so he can beat it out of me."
"This isn't about being a freak! This is- This is about- Harry, stop that." Dudley's eyes went wide as the dishes in the sink began to levitate behind his cousin.
"Don't ever talk about this again, Dudley. Do you understand me?" Harry snarled, his eyes set in a cold glare.
"Harry, drop the plates."
"I said, do you understand me?"
"Harry, drop the bloody plates!"
"TELL ME YOU'LL NEVER MENTION THIS AGAIN."
"DROP THE PLATES, HARRY, OR I'LL TELL DAD YOU'VE DONE MAGIC-"
The dishes crashed into the sink in an angry thud, the impact shattering them all. An uneasy silence took hold as both cousins stared at the mess, argument abandoned.
"Fix it, Harry," Dudley whispered, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the fragments of ceramic that littered the sink. "Can't you do that?"
"I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school," Harry muttered, his hands quivering as he rubbed at his arms. "Aunt Petunia will kill me."
"Ya," Dudley fixated on the sink, unable to break himself from the shock. "She will."
Harry picked at his arms, staring at the plates with an unreadable expression. "I didn't mean to..." He quickened his scratching, back and forth along his arms, back and forth. "I'm just a freak." He whispered, and pushing past Dudley, fleeing the kitchen.
Dudley heard his cousin's door slam shut, halting any possibility of continuing their conversation. He wanted to talk to Harry, to tell him he wasn't a freak. But Dudley couldn't bring himself to move. His cousin was magical - he was different - and hadn't he been told that was supposed to be wrong? Wasn't magic freakish? Abnormal? Staring at the broken mess in the sink, Dudley didn't know if that was true anymore.
Harry had only done magic because he was upset - because he was provoked, Dudley knew that. And if the punishment for broken plates was another week in the cupboard...Another week of Harry silently suffering beneath the stairs, his body cramped between various books and supplies. Dudley didn't think he could stomach watching his cousin try to force himself into that wretched fetal position a second time. He couldn't open that door to see Harry's tear-stained face; he couldn't look at those broken eyes one more time.
Dudley made his way over to the sink. Staring at the plates, he began picking up the fragments.
***
That night Harry's nightmares returned, and Dudley was awoken by his cousin's whimpers. "No, don't kill him- please don't-" Harry's cries echoed throughout the empty house. "It's my fault, isn't it, Mom?"
Dudley waited for a few minutes, hoping Harry would simply calm down on his own. But when the whines grew louder, he knew he could not ignore his cousin for a minute more. Dudley drew himself up from his bed and made his way into Harry's room - he didn't bother with latches that hadn't been locked in the first place.
He approached Harry's bed cautiously, watching as he tossed beneath the covers, his cousin's face wrought with pain. "Harry," Dudley said uselessly, crouching down at his bedside. "It's just a dream, Harry." When his cousin gave no indication that he had heard, Dudley continued, "Harry," he said with more vigor, "it's just a dream."
"No- Cedric - the cup - don't-" Harry's breathing grew labored, a single tear making its way down his cheek.
"Harry," Dudley pleaded. "Harry!"
His cousin jerked awake, sitting bolt upright. In the blink of an eye, Harry had grabbed his wand and pointed it directly at Dudley's heart, a soft light emanating from its tip as Dudley tensed. His cousin held his ground - his eyes were glossy and wrought with fear as if he believed he was somewhere else, as if the room around him wasn't there. "It was only a dream, Harry." Dudley forced himself to say, moving away from the wand.
Harry blinked rapidly and seemed to grasp his surroundings, and shaking his head ever so slightly, he lowered his wand. "No," he sighed, "it wasn't."
"Um, well...you're here now," Dudley breathed, a sense of relief flooding across him as Harry placed his wand back on the bedside table. "What happened?"
"Don't," Harry said, locking eyes with him aggressively. "I don't wanna talk about it with you."
"Oh, uh, okay."
"Dudley," Harry sighed, picking at his arms nervously, eyes darting to his nightstand. "I dunno what you're doing but - but just leave."
"You'll hurt yourself again if I do, won't you?" Dudley whispered, more to himself than to his cousin.
Harry's gaze met his, an unreadable expression flickering beneath his fearful green eyes. "Just go. Please."
"No." Dudley slammed his fist onto the mattress, and Harry flinched at the sudden violence. "I can't do anything when Dad - when he... when he hurts you," Dudley gestured vaguely in Harry's direction. "I just can't...But-" Dudley stammered, shaking his head slightly, "But I can do something about this." He set his gaze, determined. "I can help you with this." He lifted his head to meet his cousin's eyes, "Let me have that, Harry."
He hoped his pleading was enough, but after a long silence, Dudley sighed, adding, "can we just, like, go watch a movie or something?"
After an extended pause, Harry nodded, and Dudley stepped aside as his cousin moved from the bed. Together, they emerged from the small room as brothers. They moved down the stairs and into the den without a word, both pressing deep into the adjacent wall as they walked by the cupboard. Uncertain of what would happen when his parents returned, Dudley sighed, watching Harry lower himself onto the couch. They were at peace with each other for now. And for now, that was enough.