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Chapter 1 : Dudley Dursley's Dancing Delight
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 13|
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Dudley Dursley was bored.
Sure, it had been exciting for a bit, packing everything away as they hurried to hide just in case that creep sent his goons to kill them because they had kept his cousin safe all these years. His parents weren’t thrilled. They despised having to be protected by freaks. He had been driven to leaving whatever room they were in because of their never-ending diatribe.
Ever since the Dementor attack a few years back, Dudley had started to think his own thoughts. It was still difficult not to just think like his parents. Though each time he lapsed, he invariably dreamed of the Dementors. He would wake in a cold sweat, hands covering his mouth even as it brought vividly to mind the unseen Dementor trying to pries his hands clear. What he had seen in his mind before Harry had scared the Dementor away had been terrifying.
But that didn’t change the fact that he was bored at this particular moment. There was nothing to do while they were hidden away in their safe-house. Not that he even knew where they were. He hadn’t had the time to realize until they were here that he’d had to leave his friends behind. He had known them for his entire life and yet, he couldn’t call them because there was no phone here.
Dudley brightened. Harry could do magic. Why couldn’t he do magic? All he needed was one of those sticks and to say some words and he could do magic just as well as Harry, right?
He watched Hestia and Dedalus. He knew they had a stick. But they took their job of protecting the three Dursleys very importantly and never left their sticks lying around. Several days later and more than a handful of odd looks from Hestia, Dudley gave up his first idea as a bad job.
Instead, he began searching around the house. He looked in each cupboard and through each bookcase. He looked behind the sofa and under the beds. He didn’t see Hestia’s puzzled looks as she tried to figure out what he was doing. He didn’t see his parents’ worried looks as they believed his mind had taken a turn.
After searching under the guest room bed for the third time, he sat down to think. He didn’t believe that he could ask Hestia or Dedalus to use their stick. There had to be another stick here somewhere, but he finally had to admit that he had no idea where it could be.
It can be interesting how wishes can be answered.
While looking for a pack of cards, the impossible happened. Dudley finally managed to find a stick in the one place he hadn’t looked before. It lay in the stuck drawer in the table next to the guest room bed. He picked up the stick and nearly dropped it as he felt it warm to his touch, green and silver sparks spilling from the tip.
And so began the most interesting afternoon of his young life.
Tentatively he stretched out his arm and waved the stick. A jet of blue light flew from the tip to bounce off the gaudily gilded mirror hanging on the wall. Dudley watched in shock as the light streaked back at him, hitting him square in his chest. His muscles seized and he could not drop the stick.
His feet snapped together. His heels touched as his toes pointed outwards. His arms curved in front of him, fingers nearly touching as if he held an invisible beach ball in his arms. Music began to softly play on ghostly instruments. He watched with trepidation as the stick continued producing a multitude of lights to bounce around the room as if there was a disco ball on the ceiling instead of a plain light fixture.
Slowly, his right foot moved to touch the floor in front of him to tap gently. His arms moved gracefully to their second position. He shifted his weight to his right foot and began to tap his left foot behind him. His arms moved around in an intricate pattern, his elbows slightly bent as his fingers sketched imaginary lines. His face locked in rigid horror with a grimace instead of a smile.
A yellow jet of light hit him. He watched as his clothes transformed into a sparkly costume complete with a waltz-length tutu. A small, glittery tiara appeared on top of his head. Pink slippers had replaced his comfortably broken trainers. And still he moved in time with the ghostly music, leaping in one direction only to pirouette back.
As he extended his left leg to touch the ground to the side, a red light shimmered around him. Quick as a breath, he shrank to become a calico cat dressed in a tiny glittery costume. Even as a cat, he danced. He snatched his feet gingerly off the ground, leaping into the air and landing one paw after the other. His leaps were higher than he had leaped before. He landed lightly on the bed post only to launch himself in a graceful leap to the ground.
Mid-jump, another blue light struck him. He grimaced as he regained his human form, stumbling through his miscalculated landing. He was now dressed in an old mannequin costume in bright purple, yellow, green and blue diamonds. Even his movements became as a puppet. Mechanical. As if he had been made of gears that clicked and clacked.
Purple light splintered around him. He wanted to cry as he transfigured into a small furry rabbit that could stand on its hind feet. He touched his left foot to the side, then his right. Left and right. Left and right. Hop. Hop. Hop. Again and again, he danced around the room. He desperately wanted to stop. But he was given no choice.
Orange light fragmented as it hit him. He sighed with mute relief as he became human once more, even though he was dressed in a tux and shiny black shoes that tapped on their own accord. Slowly he moved his feet. Clickety click. Clackity clack. Click. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. His feet moved with precision. Tap. Tap. Slide. Tap. Tap. Slide.
“Dudley?” his father opened the door to stare in horror at the lights flittering about the room and he stared at his son, dancing as if he had no cares in the world. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PETUNIA!” He rushed into the room to grab Dudley but was struck by a red light. Dudley’s eyes widened as he watched his father begin dancing a jig dressed in a kilt. His father appeared to be at a loss for words for once.
“Vernon?” his mother peeked inside, her eyes growing large in horror as she took in the scene. She ran over to Vernon and grabbed at him. Dudley watched as she was hit by a blue light. Petunia screeched as her dress bloomed into a huge skirt with lengths of lace hanging from her sleeves. Large poufy material sprouted at her waist. Her hair twirled upwards and whitened. Vernon grimaced as his trousers shortened to his knee with a bow tied to the outside. A coat appeared and lace formed around his neck and at his wrists. His hair twirled into curls and whitened. Dudley watched as they began dancing the minuet. Step, step, step together. Step, step, step together. Forwards and backwards. Left then right.
“DUDLEY!” his father managed to bellow through locked lips. His mother was pale with shock. “WHEN I GET AHOLD OF YOU...”
Dudley felt a spurt of fear. Never before had his father yelled at him as he had yelled at Harry. He managed to wrench his hand open to drop the stick just as he was hit by another blue light. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see what had happened this time.
Silence. The ghostly instruments stopped playing their haunting tunes.
He opened his eyes and looked around. He watched the stick disappear before his eyes. He suddenly realized he was no longer dancing. There were no jets of light spinning about the room. His parents had disappeared even though he wasn’t quite certain if that was a good thing or not. He steeled himself to look in the mirror and to his relief, he was dressed as he usually was and wasn’t wearing any odd things.
All in all, he decided he wasn’t going to ever come back in this room. And he didn’t care how bored he became; he wasn’t going to be attempting to do any magic of any kind again. Harry was welcome to use it all. He hurt all over.
A small music box on the nightstand caught his eye when it began clinking an old melody. He picked it up and watched it for a very long moment. Harry’s pictures moved just like this one did. He tried to see who was dancing in the picture, but it was too foggy. All he could make out was two figures, one with a rather long neck and another that looked fairly large. He was about to put it down, but on a whim decided to stick it with his stuff.
Soon enough, Harry defeated Voldemort and Dudley was released from protective custody. Hestia and Dedalus couldn’t discover where Vernon or Petunia had gone or when they left. There had been long meetings, but it was finally decided that as neither had wanted anything to do with magic, they must have snuck away. Dudley found a job and a flat where he placed the small music box on the mantel. He married Caroline and they had children. Harry, his wife Ginny and their children would visit every now and then.
During one visit, the children were playing on the floor as their fathers watched silently. Ginny and Caroline were in the kitchen drinking tea and gossiping. The two babies were sleeping near their mothers.
“Daddy, watch!” James called out as books began to fly quickly around the room.
Harry sighed as Dudley laughed. The other children clapped as they began chasing the books, “Very good, James, Finite Incatatem!”
The books fell to the ground. Harry sprang to his feet, wand pointed at the two people who suddenly sprouted in front of the fireplace, dressed in out-dated aristocratic French finery. Dudley was surprised at the change in Harry and wondered why he ever had teased him. “Children, come here now,” Harry demanded. Dudley’s children followed James and Albus away from the fireplace. Their little faces filled with fear and uncertainty as they hid behind their fathers.
“Who are you?” Harry demanded. “Turn around slowly.” Caroline and Ginny watched from the hall, Ginny with her wand also pointed at the intruders. Slowly the two people turned to face Harry who glanced briefly at Dudley who had gone pale. Harry lowered his wand slightly.
Caroline was the first to speak. “Dudley? Who are these people?”
Harry was the one to answer her question. “Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia. Good to see you again. Where in the world have you been hiding?”
Caroline gasped. “Dudley, these are your parents? Weren’t they the ones who were lost and no one could find them?”
Dudley finally managed to find his voice. “I thought they did. They were there one minute and gone the next.”
Vernon’s face began turning an unattractive shade of purple. “You are just like him!” He pointed his finger at Harry who didn’t react.
“Whatever are you wearing?” Ginny finally asked, unable to help herself. “It looks like something my Great-Aunt Tessie would wear!”
Caroline giggled, earning a frown from Vernon and Petunia.
When Vernon’s face turned bright red, it was Dudley who ended the argument when he turned to Harry and asked, “Do you think you could conjure up another music box?”
I hope you have enjoyed this chapter especially as this is my first parody. What did you think about Dudley’s dancing? What was your impression on the ending when Vernon and Petunia reappear?
Thank you very much for your constructive criticism!
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