Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Dudley Dursley Harry Potter
Genres:
Horror Angst
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 11/03/2003
Updated: 11/03/2003
Words: 2,209
Chapters: 1
Hits: 958

Mischief Night

AmethystPhoenix

Story Summary:
Harry and Dudley encountered a strange house... and person... one Halloween night. Ten years later, Dudley is bent on proving that the mysterious person was indeed Harry, traveling in time.

Posted:
11/03/2003
Hits:
958
Author's Note:
This fic is in honor of Halloween (hopefully it'll be up before Halloween wears off). It's a bit rushed, so sorry if this isn't the best fic. Mischief Night is dedicated to all my reviewers for my Schnoogle fic, The Legend of the Phoenix Well.


Mischief Night

By

Amethyst Phoenix

I'm going batty.

Or barmy, crazy, mad, insane, cracked... whatever you want to call it. But don't get me wrong. I would never sink so low as to actually open a book. No, I found the list in Potter's desk. The freak's desk. I wonder why it was in his desk anyway. He supposedly took everything with him when he left permanently two summers ago.

Yeah, I know. Everyone expresses surprise that Dudley Dursley can actually count. I do. I'm not that stupid.

Anyway, the reason for my worry over my sanity is this: I know what happened that Halloween over ten years ago. It was him. I mean, you freaks can time-travel, right? It was him that night... I know it. But I'm getting ahead of myself. You don't know the story yet, do you, Hermione? You must be wondering why I'm writing to you, a friend of his...

***

October 31, 1988, near midnight

Dudley Dursley was furious. His parents were at an important dinner party, and he and his cousin had been sent to Dudley's mother's friend's house. Dudley didn't like Yvonne. She actually treated Harry like a person, who Dudley thought of as a punching bag that just happened to be alive.

"Why does he have to come?" Dudley wailed. Harry was silent, staring down at his impromptu costume Yvonne had made for him.

"He needs to come because there will be no one in the house when we leave," Yvonne explained patiently. Harry continued to stare down at the trash bag that was supposed to be wizard robes. Yvonne had thoughtfully glued little stars and moons on the bag, and given him a pointed hat with Mickey Mouse ears on them.

Dudley pouted. He was in a pirate costume. "But I don't want him to come!" he said, making his lower lip tremble.

"I'm sorry, Dudley," Yvonne said. "Now come on, both of you."

Harry followed Yvonne out silently, clutching his bag. Dudley went behind him, scowling. Annoyed, he booted Harry, making him trip oven the doorframe. Harry didn't say anything.

Instead, he followed Yvonne next door to Mrs. Anderson's house, where he knocked on the door politely. Mrs. Anderson, and old widow with a hearing trumpet, opened the door and smiled when she saw Harry and Dudley.

"Trick or treat," Harry said softly.

"Gimme some candy!" Dudley said abruptly. All three heads turned toward Dudley. Mrs. Anderson looked scandalized. Yvonne looked angry. Harry looked bewildered.

Mrs. Anderson sniffed and brought out a bowl of candy. She piled a large amount into both their bags, and closed the door.

"Gimme that!" Dudley said, grabbing Harry's collecting bag and ripping it. Candy spilled out of the bottom, falling all over the sidewalk. Harry stared wide-eyed at the colorful wrappers on the ground.

Yvonne glared at Dudley but didn't scold him. "You two wait here. I'll go inside to find another bag," she said, turning and walking into the house.

This was the chance Dudley had been waiting for. He grinned nastily and reached out towards Harry with his wooden sword. As quickly as lightning, Harry ripped his costume off and began to sprint down the road, Dudley cackling like a maniac and trailing after.

Harry led them through twisted streets and abrupt turns, until he had to stop to catch his breath next to an empty spot littered with fragments of wood. A minute later, he looked around, alarmed, as Dudley caught up to him.

"Don't..." he began, but Dudley whacked him with the fake sword. "Ow!" Dudley continued to whack him until he stopped sharply. Both he and Harry were staring at the house that had appeared in the once empty clearing.

The house was more of a manor, with two turrets. It looked old and elegant at the same time, with a porch circling the entire house, which, unlike most houses, was a circle. There was an extension off both sides of the main circle-shaped house, and it was clearly many times larger than Privet Drive.

A sign hung off to the side of the porch. Neither Dudley nor Harry could read it, since it was too far away. The two stared at each other.

"I'm going to ask the people how they get their house to disappear," Dudley said finally. He ran to the door and rang the doorbell. No one opened it.

Drawing back, he prepared to open the door. "No, that's not..." Harry started, but the door was already creaking open. Sighing, Harry was dragged by his cousin into the house.

It was almost pitch-dark inside the house. Dudley could just about make out a staircase to the side of the entrance hall, covered in layers of dust. He sneezed. It cleared some of the dust from the air, and allowed Dudley to see a destroyed table in the corner.

"Shh!" Harry said. "We need to leave. This isn't right for us to barge into someone's house!"

"But I want to find out how they made the house disappear!" Dudley whined.

Harry sighed. "Fine. We'll look around for a few minutes, and then we'll leave."

"Fine," Dudley said sulkily. He led the way up the circular staircase.

"What's that?" Harry whispered, listening intently.

The sound of someone writing was heard from behind one of the doors on the second floor.

"It must be the owner," Dudley said. He rushed to the door, and opened it. He and Harry peered in.

The walls of the room were made of stone, and there was a fire in the fireplace. A bed with curtains sat in one of the corners of the room. Opposite the bed was a desk, and sitting at the desk was an older boy, scratching a feather quill on crinkly paper.

He was wearing the oddest clothes. It looked like he was wearing a black dress. Dudley sniggered, causing the boy to wheel around. Both Dudley and Harry gasped. The boy looked like an older version of Harry with glasses. The boy looked at them questionally from behind his glasses.

"Er... my cousin was wondering how you make your house disappear," Harry said.

"My house?" the boy said. He snorted. "Unlike my friend's house, this place doesn't disappear. It doesn't need to."

"But..." Harry said.

"Look, little kid, go back to your mummy...I don't know which mother would let you barge into a house..."

Harry's jaw dropped. Dudley sensed trouble. He backed away. Harry's green eyes glinted dangerously, and his back became rigid. "My mother died," he said stiffly, so unlike an eight year old.

The boy, instead of looking sympathetic, smirked. "Aw... poor baby... mummy died..."

Harry lunged forward, but found himself clutching thin air. "Where'd he go?" he demanded angrily.

The boy had disappeared.

***

So now you know. It must have been him. I mean, Potter acted like that, I know it. He must have been that arrogant when he was away from me. The coward. I need to talk to him. Where is he?

Awaiting your response,

Dudley Dursley

***

October 31, 1999

"Move it!" Dudley snarled. The old lady, looking scandalized, moved herself and her shopping bags away from Dudley's path. Dudley, however, didn't notice. Instead, he was busy searching for the "broken telephone booth" Hermione had told him about. Along with that, she had defended Potter many times. Dudley had almost thrown the letter away.

After avidly searching, Dudley spotted the booth. The window was cracked, and there was graffiti over the remaining booth. Looking dubiously around, and making sure no one was watching, Dudley stepped into the booth and dialed the number Hermione had given him.

A lady's voice came on, saying a load of trash (to Dudley), and then the booth began to move underground. Dudley tapped his foot impatiently, and let himself out when the booth stopped.

The room he stepped into was large and cavernous, and a fountain stood in the middle. Large groups of freaks in black stood milling around, waiting to go home, and a few people in blue rushed around. Dudley gaped around, lost, and wishing that he had listened to the woman's voice, in case it had information.

"Why, you're a Muggle!" a familiar voice said from behind Dudley. Dudley wheeled around, and found himself face to face with Mr. Weasel, or whatever his name was. "Dudley Dursley!" Mr. Weasley said in delight. (Yes, Weasley, that was it.)

Dudley, who was already uncomfortably afraid, became even more so when a pale blond freak Dudley's age walked up, smirking widely.

"Well, well, well, Mr. Weasley," he said. "How is the family?"

Mr. Weasley, who had been friendly, suddenly turned cold. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy. Hope you are well? The family's doing well." He looked insincere.

Malfoy, however, was looking at Dudley with a sneer. "A Muggle, Mr. Weasley? In the ministry?"

"This is..." Mr. Weasley didn't get to introduce Dudley, and was cut off.

"Malfoy," someone said. All three turned, and found themselves looking at three figures in blue. The speaker was the freak in the center... Dudley's eyes narrowed as he viewed his cousin for the first time in two years.

"Well, I thought I got rid of you when I left, and you come looking for me. How ironic," Potter said. The redhead, who Dudley identified as Potter's friend Weasley, sniggered.

"Ron, what are you three doing out here?" Mr. Weasley inquired.

Weasley stopped sniggering. "Stealth training let out early today."

"I need to talk to you," Dudley said, drawing Potter away. Potter raised an eyebrow, but followed him to the side.

"Talk," Potter said, looking over his glasses.

Dudley glared at him, but said, "That Halloween with the house. I figured out who the boy was. You. I mean, an older you. You freaks can time-travel..."

"Wait!" Potter said, holding up a hand. "We can time-travel, but not that far into the past. And plus, we can't travel forward in time."

"Liar," Dudley said.

"I'll prove it wasn't me. Plus, how do you know we didn't just dream it?"

"You're the crazy one!"

"Well..."

"All right. Here's the deal, Potter. You come with me tonight to Yvonne's, and we'll find the house. If it's not there, we dreamed it. If it is, we go inside, and you prove to me that it wasn't you."

Potter sighed. "All right. We'd better get going. You're lucky my training ended early today."

A few hours later, they were standing in front of the manor/house, Dudley looking smug. "I told you it existed," he said. Potter looked up at the moon, rolled his eyes, and strode toward the door.

"Don't bother," Dudley said as Potter reached for the doorbell. He opened the door.

The hall was still dusty and dark, and Dudley could see the same destroyed table. This time, however, Potter surveyed the hall, and pulled out his stick from his pocket. (Dudley had forced him to put normal clothes on.)

"Put that away!" Dudley said.

"Why?" Harry said. "This place was obviously destroyed or something. It could be dangerous."

"And you're going to defend us with that stick?" Dudley asked sarcastically.

"You mean my wand?" Potter said. "Actually, yes."

Dudley spluttered angrily.

"Shut up!" Potter said. This time, voices were heard. Dudley looked fearfully at Potter.

"I think there's burglars!" Dudley whispered.

Potter rolled his eyes. "Technically, Diddlykins, we're breaking and entering too. Let's go."

He led the way up the staircase, Dudley following tentatively, not sure whether he needed proof anymore. Slowly, Potter, leaned against the wall, and opened the door.

"She said no again, Padfoot, after fifteen owls!" the boy's familiar voice said. Potter's eyes widened. Dudley took that as proof that it was Potter.

"Ah ha!" he yelled triumphantly. "It was you!"

The voices stopped inside. Harry mouthed a swear at Dudley as footsteps came closer, and a handsome boy of around sixteen came out.

"Whoa, Prongs, there's two Muggles out here... one looks like your older brother or something..."

"I'm not a Muggle, Sirius," Potter said. Padfoot/Sirius stared at him in surprise.

"You know him! It must have been you!" Dudley said.

A second boy came out. It was the same boy from before. He hadn't changed one bit. Dudley was starting to get scared. But then again, that just proved Potter's guilt.

Potter was looking at the two, something like pain in his eyes.

"Wait, he's holding a wand," Prongs said. "What's your surname?"

"What for?" Padfoot asked.

"If he's Muggleborn. That would explain the clothes."

Potter didn't answer. Dudley decided to speak for him. "It's..."

"Shut up!" Potter said abruptly.

"Shutup?" Padfoot said. "You Muggles have strange names..."

The laughing stopped, and all was silent. Prongs and Padfoot had disappeared.

Potter turned, and strode silently down the hall. He didn't stop until they were outside of the house.

"That was you!" Dudley said.

"It wasn't," Potter said.

"Then who was it?" Dudley sneered.

Potter turned to face him. "Memories."

"Memories?" Dudley said scornfully. Of what?"

"James Potter and Sirius Black. If I'm right, Sirius didn't appear until four years ago."

"You mean... they're dead?"

Harry looked at him scornfully. Gulping, Dudley turned to face the house, only to find that it was no longer there.


Author notes: I've always thought that Harry got his glasses later on... so sorry if that ruined anyone's mental picture of the books. Also, this fic has nothing to do with The Legend of the Phoenix Well, which should be updated sometime in November.

Please R/R!!!