Summertime Blues

A SHAMEFUL SECRET

A bell signalled the end of the last day of term at Smeltings Boys' School. Dudley Dursley raced along the corridor and sprinted up the flight of stairs to his dorm. He'd already packed his massive suitcase, first thing after he'd woken up that morning. He just needed to check round quickly to make sure he'd not forgotten anything. Then he could be away -- back home to Surrey in the back of his dad's new BMW -- and not a second too soon!

"Hey, ex-fat boy!" said a voice. Dudley looked up to see Piers Polkiss peering round the door at him. "Don't forget your Smeltings stick," Piers said as he slouched into the dorm.

The Smeltings stick had been left, forgotten, propped up by Dudley's bed. "Thanks," Dudley said gruffly. He briefly considered giving Piers a whack on the shins with the Smeltings stick but fought the impulse. What would be the point? Piers had been getting on his nerves lately, but he couldn't put his finger on the reason. Piers was the same as ever. Maybe that was the problem, thought Dudley. After all, he -- Dudley Dursley -- had changed more in the past year than he could ever have imagined.

He re-opened his suitcase and crammed the Smeltings stick inside with the rest of his things. The case was bulging and would be difficult to close again. He struggled with it.

Piers was dragging his own suitcase towards the door. He stopped to watch Dudley with a grin that made him look even more rat-like than usual. "A few months ago, you could have squashed it closed by sitting your fat backside on it," he said.

"Yeah," said Dudley, pushing his floppy blond fringe out of his eyes. It was true. At first he'd resented the diet he'd been forced to go on. Sometimes he still did. But he had to admit it had been effective. Having grapefruit segments for breakfast every morning had seen to it that he'd gone through four sets of Smeltings uniforms in the past year, each one a size smaller than the last. It hadn't done any harm that this year had seen him grow to almost six foot in height, a little taller than his dad. But Dudley had quickly realised that being a year older and several stones lighter had brought with it a whole new set of problems -- and not being able to squash a suitcase closed by sitting on it wasn't anywhere near to being the worst!

Outside, the afternoon sky was grey and overcast. Dudley's dad was waiting by the school gates. When he saw Dudley, he waved and began trotting across the school grounds to meet him. A broad smile creased Vernon Dursley's craggy face.

"Here, let me take that for you, son," he puffed, trying to pull the suitcase away from Dudley.

"No!" Straight away, Dudley realised he'd spoken too sharply. His dad looked at him, puzzled. "I mean, it's not heavy or anything," Dudley told him quickly.

"Even so..." Vernon Dursley wrenched the case away from him. He raised his eyebrows and whistled. "It really isn't heavy, is it, son? A big case like that! Who'd have thought --"

"Look, there's mum," said Dudley, glad of an excuse to change the subject. Petunia Dursley had got out of the car and was scanning the school grounds for her son and husband. Dudley waved. She waved back excitedly and ran up to join them.

"My little Diddykins!" she said, throwing her arms round him. "All grown up!"

Dudley bent down to kiss her cheek. "Not so loud, mum," he whispered, blushing. He wasn't sure his mum was listening. She'd got a paper towel out of her handbag and was busy wiping her lipstick off his face with it.

"See ya next term, Diddykins," smirked Piers, as he passed them, dragging his suitcase along the concrete.

Back outside the school gates, Vernon Dursley effortlessly threw the suitcase in the boot of the car and rubbed his hands together. "All set, people? In you get, Dudders!"

He didn't need telling twice. Dudley threw himself into the back seat of the gleaming silver BMW. "Smart wheels, dad," he said. "Can't wait to learn to drive!"

His dad adjusted the mirror and laughed. "You've only got a couple more years to wait, son," he said. "Maybe we can find some private land and take you for a spin there. Get you off to a head start, what do you say?"

"Cool," said Dudley.

"You'll be a wonderful driver," his mum said, turning round in her seat to gaze at him lovingly. "Oh, sweetheart, we're so glad to have you coming home!"

Outside the earshot of the guys from school, Dudley didn't feel embarrassed by his mother's endearments. "I can't wait to get back," he said.

In the mirror, he saw his father's face cloud over. "Unfortunately, son, you'll have to wait an extra half hour. We've got a slight detour to make, remember?"

"Oh." Dudley remembered all right. The "slight detour" was his father's expression for the stop they made every year at King's Cross Station to pick up his cousin Harry from that freak school he attended. Dudley never looked forward to seeing Harry. Harry was, well... weird. And weak. Easily bullied. Dudley had always looked down on Harry. But he'd always been afraid of him too. Afraid some of the weirdness and weakness would rub off on him.

Today, though, he was almost looking forward to Harry's return. Not that he'd had a change of heart towards his cousin. But maybe Harry was the only person who'd be able to explain all the freaky things that had been going on in Dudley's life lately...

Harry was slouching out of the station as they arrived, with his suitcase and owl in tow. He was still shorter than Dudley, but he, too, had grown since the previous year. None of the Dursleys commented on it though.

"Get in," said Vernon Dursley to Harry. "And don't take up too much room with that ruddy owl."

Harry got into the seat behind Petunia Dursley and balanced his white owl's cage on his knee. Dudley watched him warily. On previous occasions, his dad had insisted that the cage be fastened to the roof-rack, or crammed into the boot of the car, owl and all. This time, when Harry had said "I'll keep Hedwig with me," Vernon Dursley's eyes had bulged and his face had turned slightly purple, but he'd just grunted and got back into the driver's seat.

Dudley noticed a look of triumph flash across Harry's face, just for a second. Then Harry resumed his usual blank expression, the one that gave away nothing about his feelings. Maybe it was the gloomy afternoon light playing tricks, but Dudley thought there was a harder, more haunted expression in those green eyes than he'd seen before. It looked as though Harry had woken up from a bad dream, only to find the nightmare was still going on.

Still, Dudley thought, we all have our secrets. He wasn't particularly interested in hearing Harry's, but if they were going to talk, he'd better make a start by trying to win his trust.

"Uh... hey, cuz," he said.

Harry gave him a suspicious look. "Hey," he said uncertainly. Then he turned his head away and stared out of the window at a grey and neon London street where it had begun to drizzle.

That was it, thought Dudley. There was no way they'd be able to break through the barriers of fifteen years, even if they both wanted to.

The car inched slowly through the rain-blackened street.

"Ruddy traffic," bellowed Vernon Dursley. He pounded the car's horn with a beefy fist. They were at a crossroads, caught in a tailback that went on into the distance and the lights were against them.

Petunia Dursley looked anxious. "Don't block off the side road, Vernon," she said.

Dudley saw in the mirror that his dad's face was a mass of frown lines. "I do know how to drive, Petunia," he snapped. "Anyway, I've got right of --"

Dudley was the first to see the lorry hurtling out of the side road towards them.

"Watch out!" he yelled. But in a traffic jam there was nowhere they could move. And there was no way the lorry could stop in time...

He must have blacked out. The next thing Dudley knew, Harry was dragging him across the seat of the car to get him out by the passenger side. The BMW's alarm had been set off and its shrill whine filled the air. Meanwhile, his mum was trying, not very successfully, to pull his dad out of the driver's seat. On the driver's side the lorry had come to a stop within a hair's breadth of the car's silver paintwork.

Petunia Dursley stood aside as Dudley and Harry worked together to drag her husband from the car.

"Ugh, gerroff," he growled as the boys pulled him across the automatic gearbox.

"At least we're all safe," said his wife. "The car's OK. Let's just go home." She was shaking and looked as though she was about to cry. Dudley put his arm round her.

Vernon Dursley, on the other hand, was furious. He rounded on Harry who took a step backwards.

"This!" He threw his meaty hand out to indicate the surrounding chaos. He was spitting with fury. "This is your doing, isn't it? I'd know your ruddy handiwork anywhere!"

Harry picked up the owl's cage. He seemed a lot less shaken than the Dursleys. "Now why would I do a silly thing like saving your life?" he said coolly. He began stroking the owl with a finger and making soothing noises at her.

The lorry driver had moved his vehicle carefully away from the Dursley's car. Now, Dudley noticed, he was gone. No one had bothered to take down his number, but it was too late to worry about that. The traffic had begun to thin. Even so, Dudley could see that his dad was too shaken up to drive straight away, even if he was masking his shock with anger. There was a cafe nearby. "How about a nice cup of tea, mum?" he said.

It was nearly dinner time and the cafe also served cakes and snacks. A bagel with cream cheese and lox would go very well with a cup of tea, Dudley thought. He crossed his fingers, hoping no one was in a state of mind to worry about diet sheets just then.

Inside the cafe, Vernon Dursley was still fuming. The thought that he might have to be grateful to Harry made him angry. Being told he was wrong made him angry too. He gritted his teeth together and glared viciously at Harry over his teacup.

Harry was unperturbed. He shrugged. "Maybe I'm not the only weirdo around here," he said. At that moment he caught Dudley's eye and gave him a meaningful look. Dudley looked away, suddenly fascinated with the shred of iceberg lettuce left on his plate (his mum had vetoed the bagel). The look in Harry's eyes had been one of amusement. A knowing look, as if he'd just figured out how the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle fit together. But it wasn't a particularly friendly look. So Harry had guessed that he and his cousin had something in common, after all. Dudley's shameful secret -- the one he couldn't share with his parents because, no matter how much they loved him, it would come as a shock and a disappointment. No wonder Harry seemed to think it was funny. After all his years of sneering at Harry and bullying him, Dudley had turned out to be just as much of a freak as he was.

The journey home was a silent one.

Vernon Dursley gripped the steering wheel very tightly and did not even criticise the driving skills of other road users, as he usually did.

Dudley was feeling depressed. It was bad enough when he'd been carrying his secret around by himself. He'd even thought it might be less painful if he could share it with someone. What a joke that was! Having Harry guess the truth was even worse, he realised. Now Harry, who might well be an enemy, knew about his secret shame -- the so-called powers that could lose Dudley the love of his family. He knew it wouldn't do anything to drive away the cloud of gloom that threatened to swallow him, but at that moment he badly wanted to eat. And eat.

In the cafe, his mother had refused to treat him to a dessert. He'd reached out for a sugar doughnut off the sweet trolley, but his mum had grabbed his hand and patted it lovingly.

"We're only stopping you having those things because we love you," she'd told him.

Harry had tried to catch his eye again when they left the cafe, but Dudley had ignored him. Surely even his cousin had to realise how stupid it would be to dwell on the reasons for their miraculous escape. Couldn't he see how much it upset his parents? Dudley rested his head against the window and stared out. They'd joined the motorway and there was nothing much to see. He liked it that way.

Number 4, Privet Drive was just as Dudley remembered it. Harry had gone straight upstairs to his room, as he always did, while Dudley went into the living room with his parents.

His mum switched the TV on, ready for her favourite soap to start. She still hadn't recovered from her brush with death and was rather subdued. His dad, on the other hand, had cheered up immensely now that Harry was out of the way once more.

Vernon Dursley unlocked the desk where he kept his work papers and took out a large manilla envelope.

"Got a bit of a surprise for you, son," he said. His smile was almost shy as he gave Dudley the envelope.

Dudley was surprised to see that the envelope was addressed to him. He opened it.

"What do you reckon, son?" asked Vernon Dursley. "It's a great opportunity -- a chance to pick up some really worthwhile skills."

At the top of the letter was the red Grunnings logo:

Dear Mr Dursley

Grunnings has great pleasure in inviting you to our forthcoming Parent

and Child work shadowing day. This is your chance to learn all about the

highly skilled and responsible work your father/mother does for our company...

His dad was beaming with pride. "Always hoped you'd follow in my footsteps, go into the drills business."

Dudley didn't find the prospect of learning about drills all that gripping. But at least it was something sensible. Something normal.

"Sounds great, dad," he said.

Vernon Dursley insisted on carrying Dudley's suitcase up to his room for him. He put the suitcase down on the bed.

"Little welcome home present for you over there, son," he said, nodding in the direction of the computer desk. He gave Dudley a friendly punch in the arm and then left him to get on with unpacking and changing out of his Smeltings uniform.

Dudley opened his suitcase. On top of everything, lay the Smeltings stick. He took the stick out and propped it up in the corner next to his computer. On his desk, by to the computer keyboard, he saw a shiny box emblazoned with pictures of muscular men and bikini-clad women brandishing knives and guns. The words "Mega-Mutilation 4 for the PC" were picked out in metallic red foil. He smiled. He was home. Everything would be OK. He could spend the summer playing computer games and learning about drills. He didn't have to be a freak if he didn't want. He could choose to be normal. Couldn't he?

He took off his maroon and orange uniform and hung it up in his wardrobe. Figuring out what to wear instead was going to be a problem. Not that Dudley was particularly interested in clothes, but now everything he had was several sizes too big and rather short in the leg. While he was trying to decide on the least embarrassing option, there came a knock at the door.

"Go away," he shouted. "I'm getting changed."

"Like anyone wants to see that," came the sarcastic reply. It was Harry.

Quickly Dudley pulled on an old pullover and sweat pants. He opened the door, scowling. "What do you want?"

Harry took in the outsize clothes. "Oh, cool look," he said.

"Yeah," said Dudley. "You're my style guru. Didn't you know?"

Harry smiled faintly as he pushed his way into Dudley's room.

Dudley was outraged. "What do you think you're doing? No one said you could just barge in here!"

Harry sighed. "You mean you want me to wait till we're all sitting down to supper before I ask how long you've been able to do magic? Fine!"

Dudley's eye twitched slightly at the mention of the M word, but he gave Harry a threatening stare. His voice didn't betray any trace of the anxiety that was making the hairs on his arms stand on end. "That's rubbish! You're the only freak round here!"

Harry glared back defiantly. Dudley felt uneasy. For the past few years, Harry had been getting less and less easy to push around. Maybe this was the year he started pushing back. "You know what I'm talking about," Harry said. "That lorry missing us was nothing to do with me. I didn't even see it coming." He shrugged. "All I'm saying is you'd better not use any magic round here. Because I'll be the one who gets blamed!" With that, he let himself back out of Dudley's room.

"You're breaking my heart," Dudley called after him. But he suppressed a smile. He wasn't going to use his freak powers again. Not if he could help it. But there was no reason to tell his cousin that.

Even his mum giggled when Dudley came back down to supper.

"Oh, Diddykins! I can see we're going to have to get you some nice new clothes," she said. "You've grown so much this year!"

"And shrunk," said Harry quietly. Vernon Dursley turned his enraged rhino look on Harry and Harry turned his attention back to cutting up the very small piece of dry toast on his plate.

Dudley looked at his plate of dry toast. He had a bigger slice than Harry, but even so -- dry toast! His expression brightened as his mother brought a pan to the table. "Great!" he said. "Fried eggs!"

"They're poached sweetheart," his mum told him, placing the larger of two eggs on top of his toast. "Fewer calories that way."

"Oh." Dudley felt a little disappointed. "Any bacon to go with them?"

His mum shook her head. "Actually, angel, your father and I are thinking of going vegetarian. The doctor told your dad he's got to look after his heart."

"Vegetarian?" Dudley was horrified. Visions of sausage sandwiches, roast chicken dinners and beef and mushroom pies melted away, replaced by a marching band of carrots and celery sticks. "You must be kidding! No way am I going vegetarian!"

At that moment the pan flew out of Petunia Dursley's hand and hit the wall.

Vernon Dursley was on his feet and over to Harry's side of the table in a flash. He dragged Harry out of his chair and began shaking him.

"Up to your ruddy tricks again, are you?" he shouted, spraying toast crumbs over Harry. His face had turned purple again. "Think that's funny, do you?"

"Why would I?" Harry shouted back at him. "I didn't even get my egg!"

"Vernon, remember your heart," said Petunia Dursley. Her voice trembled. She sounded like she was at breaking point.

Dudley watched, horrified, as his dad began shaking Harry like a rottweiler with a rabbit. "I didn't do it!" shouted Harry. He sounded more angry than scared. "It wasn't me, it was Dudley!"

Silence fell.

"Liar!" said Dudley, trying to look shocked.

But, just for once, his dad didn't seem sure whom to believe. He released his grip on Harry and turned to Dudley. "You didn't, did you, son?"

"Dudley wouldn't, would you dear?" said Petunia Dursley in a small, hopeful voice.

"Wouldn't? He couldn't, Petunia!" boomed Vernon Dursley, but he too sounded more hopeful than certain. "Because my son's not a ruddy freak like some I could mention!"

"Fine," said Harry, brushing toast crumbs off his green pullover. "He's a danger to himself and to the rest of you, but you're going to ignore it because you don't want to face the truth."

His parents turned to look at him now, their expressions a mixture of shock and disappointment. "Look, I didn't do it on purpose," said Dudley. His tone was sulky now. "So get off my case, OK?"

Vernon and Petunia Dursley exchanged worried looks. "Son," said his dad at last, "There's something I think you should see." His hand shook as he unlocked his desk once more and took out a yellow parchment envelope addressed in emerald-green ink.

Dudley took the envelope. It was addressed to him. He turned it over. The sealing wax was still intact, embossed with the Hogwarts crest, but the seal itself had been broken away from the letter.

He'd already guessed what the letter would contain, but he read it anyway just to be sure. His invitation to attend Hogwarts as a student.

The letter had a worn, creased look about it. As though someone had carried it around in their pocket for ages. Dudley looked at his parents suspiciously. "Someone's opened it. When did you get this?"

His mum was sobbing. "We only kept it from you because we love you," she was saying over and over.

"It came four years ago. Just before his first letter did," said Vernon Dursley jerking his head towards Harry. "As soon as your mother saw it she knew what it was. You were only a kid, son. We opened it and wrote back telling them we'd put your name was down for Smeltings and that was final."

"So how come I didn't get millions of letters like he did?" said Dudley. Not that he would have wanted millions of letters offering him a place at some school for freaks. Still, he couldn't help feeling a bit jealous all the same.

Vernon Dursley shot Harry a bitter look. "Turns out his name had been down for years," he said hoarsely. "Parents' wishes. We had no say in it, even though we were the ones to feed and clothe him all these years."

"You'd never shown any signs of being abnormal, angel" his mum added. "So we hoped it was all a mistake. My si-- Your dead aunt, she knew there was something... Long before she got the letter."

"Same with me," said Harry who had been wistfully watching his poached egg slide down the wall. "I didn't know the weird stuff I could do was magic, but I knew I was doing something." He smiled wryly at Dudley. "Guess you're not going to notice if you can get everything you want without magic."

"Did we do the wrong thing, sweetheart?" asked his mum. She took a screwed up tissue out of her sleeve and wiped her nose with it.

Dudley hugged her. "No mum. You did the right thing." Over his mum's shoulder, he scowled at Harry who was watching the scene with more interest than sympathy. "Tell you what. Let's go shopping tomorrow and you can help me choose my new clothes for when I go to Grunnings with dad. I don't want to be a freak. I want to learn about drills. I want to be normal."