The Dursleys are surprisingly fun to write

[polychromatic]

Harry Potter
The Dursleys Return to Privet Drive
Dudley, Vernon, Petunia Dursley
Written for comment_fic
Posted here.
Prompt: Dudley, he couldn't help but wonder what had become of his cousin (post Deathly Hallows)
1259 words.

It had been almost ten months since Dudley last saw his cousin when the owls descended on the tiny hut.

(At least he was pretty sure it was ten months. Once he’d counted off on all ten fingers, he’d decided that was effort enough.)

He’d watched the two funny people that were supposed to be their bodyguards (except they didn’t look anything like the bodyguards he’d seen on telly) open the letters with shaking hands and then give loud whoops, smashing together into a hug and doing a weird celebratory dance, all awkward knees and elbows. When his dad had burst out of his miniscule room in the tiny hut – face red and moustache bristling with indignation, demanding to know what the hub-bub was about, couldn’t a person ever get a decent night’s sleep with you people? – the two had stopped suddenly to stare at him, their already joyous expressions brightening into something so dazzling that Dudley could barely stand to look at them and nervously wondered if it was a magic thing that would make him go blind.

“Get your bags! Quickly now!” trilled the dark-haired woman (his mother had forbid him to learn their names. “There’s no need to even talk to them, popkin. Just pretend they’re not even here, there’s my smart boy!” she had cooed at him, but there was something hard in her voice that he almost never heard directed at him.)

“Yes indeed, no time to waste!” the short man chimed in, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Dudley looked over at his dad, whose face was deepening to a funny mix of purple and red, thick eyebrows snapping together and veins starting to throb with anger. “SEE HERE, I WON’T HAVE YOU ORDERING ME AROUND—“

The two wizard people looked at each other, shrugged and then pulled out their wands. Dudley gave an involuntary yelp at the sight of those sticks as his dad bellowed, “THREATENING US, EH? I KNEW THE LIKES OF YOU—“ but as they flicked their wands, he dove for cover under the spindly table in the middle of the room with a holler.

Seconds later Dudley heard his mum scream from the bedroom as their suitcases, neatly packed, came floating out the door and settled in front of him. “What on Earth are you thinking, using your… your magic on our things, our last connection to home…!” his mother shrieked as she came barreling out in her night shift, looking furiously askance at their bags like she wanted to scrub them as mercilessly as she’d scrubbed behind Dudley’s ears as a child.

“Now then, if you’d be so kind as to hold your bags, it’d make this a lot easier,” the lady-wizard said with a smile, nonplussed and still holding her wand.

Dudley decided it would be a good idea to listen to her and clutched his bag. “Mum,” he whined a bit piteously, his eyes darting back at their wands, “Please.”

“Oh Duddykins, don’t you fret, darling. Mummy would never let these wicked people do anything to harm you!”

The short man cleared his throat, “Any time now.”

His mum threw the man a dirty look and gingerly held onto the handle of her suitcase. “Vernon!” she hissed, before giving Dudley another watery look, rather like the ones sidekicks gave to the heroes before they got blown to pieces in a big explosion.

His dad was still grumbling something about “daft wizards” and “tricks and schemes” and “call that bloody government of theirs on them for this treatment” as he grabbed his bag grudgingly.

Before he even knew what happened, the two had rushed in and grabbed each of the Dursleys by the arm, everything went dark and Dudley felt himself twist and then be squeezed like putty in space before being stretched out again, and he thought how much he’d like a bucket to throw up in. When his eyes blinked back to usefulness, they were back in the comfortable confines of Number Four, Privet Drive.

“Well!” the short man said with a bit of a jig at the Dursleys gaping expressions, “That’s that then! It’s been an absolute… well, it’s been an experience these past ten months, eh? No need to thank us, happy to help out and do right by Harry Potter!”

“What…” began his mum weakly, but he cut her off, throwing his arms out wide.

“He’s done it! He Who Must Not Be Named is gone for good this time, so you’re quite safe now!”

Before his Dad could close and open his mouth again, the woman, looking almost ten years younger already, smiled at Dudley. “We’ll be off then. Have a lot of celebrating to do and people to see. Good luck!”

And with a wave of their arms, they twisted into nothingness.

The Dursleys switched between continuing to gape at the empty space and at each other, almost hardly daring to believe they were home. “Oh, Vernon!” his mum gasped feelingly as his dad brushed at his moustache in a befuddled manner.

“Well. Well. It’s about time the boy got… whatever it was done and let us return to our normal lives.”

“Oh, look at this dust! It’s just dreadful, at least 3 inches thick!”

“Dad…”

“We’ll have to make sure that lot didn’t steal anything when we were gone, and then go to the bank vault and our storage box to bring back all the valuables.”

“And the state of the garden, I can barely stand to think what a mess it’s become!”

“Mum!”

“I’ll call Mason immediately, tell him I decided to cut this sabbatical short because I’ve decided the company is where I need to be.”

“Everything’s just so musty, it’ll take me days to get all the laundry sorted.”

“BUT WHAT ABOUT HARRY?”

His parents stopped and turned to look at Dudley, as he in turn looked downwards at his toes, feeling his face flush. “I’m just…” he mumbled, “… wondering where he is. And if he’s okay. I thought he’d be here.”

“Oh Duddy,” his mum’s face crumpled and her eyes became wet and shiny, “Such a kind and caring boy!”

“I’m sure he’ll go off and live with his… his lot of people. Don’t have to worry about him, Dudders. Good riddance¸ I say. You’ll get your game room back once we dispose of all his rubbish.”

Dudley thought long and hard about this. “So we won’t… see him again?”

His mum and dad shared a look, “No, sweetkins, I don’t think we will. Besides, he’s caused enough trouble in our lives, hasn’t he?”

“But,” Dudley said, “He’s always come back for summer.”

“Well he’s not anymore. He can stick to his world and we’ll stick to ours and we’ll be better off for it!” his dad said stoutly, “I swear, those… those people have filled your head with nonsense. Best to just go sleep it off, son. Go on.”

So he slowly clambered up the stairs to his room, pausing briefly outside the room his cousin used to sleep in.

And then Dudley had a brilliant idea.

He’d write a letter, just a quick one. Then he’d gather up his gang, go to the local zoo and get the wimpiest looking zookeeper to let him have an owl. Satisfied with this excellent plan of his, Dudley hunkered down in front of his desk with a page of foolscap and a ballpoint pen and began to write.

Dear Hi To

Harry,

Just wunder wander wondering if your you're still alive.

From,

Dudley