Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and The Burden of Becoming

Chapter 6 - Dudley's Confession

"Hello, Harry!" said George with a bit of pomp and a broad smile. "Wonderful evening, don't you think?" At that moment the rain began to fall. "Well, it was wonderful. Goodness! Look at his hair Fred! A new look, Harry? And what's that I see on your ear, can it be...."

Harry held his hands up. "Shhh, you'll wake them."

"Who, the Dumbsleys?" asked George.

Fred sat with one of Harry's T-shirts over his face, it was soaked in blood. "I thought you were getting on smashingly," he mumbled through the shirt.

"What happened? Skiving snack box?" asked Harry.

"No," said George, "he accidentally apparated onto your bed, fell off and smashed his face into the dresser there." Harry looked; the lamp had fallen over.

"I thought the bed was over there!" griped Fred through the T-shirt as he rubbed his knee.

"It was," Harry answered, "but I was cleaning up and..."

"And you moved it? Don't you know anything? You never..."

"Never mind that," George interrupted. He walked over to his twin and pointed his wand at the bloodied face; a blue light bathed Fred's fading freckles and the bleeding stopped. "Ron told us you were staying, and why. We don't buy it for a minute." George began to survey the room.

"So," Fred sighed, wriggling his nose with his fingers, "we're here to see if it's true." He looked at the bloodstained shirt and handed it to Harry. "Er... sorry." He stood up and looked out at the rain. "George, what do you think?" He raised his hands as if boxing in a marquee. "Fickle Furniture--Make your mother-in-law think twice before she pops in! Well?"

"Not bad, we can make furniture that moves randomly by itself! Recordra!" He scribbled something in the air with his wand, and a parchment appeared in his hand. He then tucked it into the sleeve of his green jacket. "But, we're here to check on dear Harry."

"Really, I'm fine," Harry said, a bit too convincingly. "They've been much, much better, why just the other day we, uh," he paused searching for something to say, "we selected judges for the Suburban Lawn Contest!"

"Right!" exclaimed George. "And this is better because...?"

Fred let out a high-pitched two-tone whistle. "Oh my!"

George turned to the window. "What?"

"Harry has a neighbor!" he said with a sing-songy voice.

Harry could tell this was going to be bad. "It's nothing. They moved in a few weeks back is all." He walked to the curtains to close them, but that only made the twins realize they had something.

"A neighbor?" George asked whimsically, as he pushed Harry aside and looked out the window. The rain was falling steadily. Across the street Gabriella sat, again in pure white. The candlelight seemed to make her face glow as she wrote by the flickering flame. "Well, mate, what's her name?"

"I, er, don't know; haven't really met her."

"Haven't met her?" Fred asked, raising his wand. "Accio omnioculars!" The omnioculars Harry had used at last year's Quidditch World Cup flew to Fred's hand from the trunk on the floor.

"No, don't!" Harry tried to be uninterested, but his voice was quivering slightly. "It's... it's rude." But Fred was already gazing across the street through her window.

"Bloody rain," he said. "I can't seem to... oh, dear me! Harry? I think she's a thief!"

"What?"

"She has something of yours," said Fred again with a sing-songy voice. "Look George." He handed George the omnioculars and turned to look at Harry; without thinking, Harry held his hand up to his ear, stroking the earring.

"Fred," George asked, "should we go get that back for Harry?"

"Yes, I think we should."

"Harry, be back in a flash, mate."

"Noooooo," he hissed. Fred and George just stood their smiling. "Okay, okay, I know her, but you have to swear..."

"On our honor, mate," said George as he held his hand over his chest. A moment later, he kicked Fred in the shin.

"Ouch! Er, yeah, on our honor!"

Harry told them of the last few weeks, leaving out various details he thought didn't concern them; he ended with hitting his head on the steps below, and Mrs. Figg's warning. "Swear again you won't tell anybody. I mean anybody!" The twins were grinning from ear to ear, but nodded their assent.

"Still, Harry," George spoke first, "there might be a connection. We could ask Dad for you, he'd know if..."

"Nobody can know! She's a Muggle. I'll never hear the end of it." No sooner had the words slipped from his mouth than he wanted to put them back in again.

"Fine," said George handing Fred the omnioculars, "we'll keep it quiet. You have your bit of fun this summer, but promise at least to be careful?" Harry nodded.

"Harry?" Fred called, as he replaced the omnioculars in Harry's trunk; he'd seen something and started to pull things out. "There's glass all through here; you really should clean this up."

"Wait!" Harry yelled, but it was too late.

"Reparro!"

Harry could hear Uncle Vernon let out a particularly loud snore, and then there was silence.

"Nothing to worry about," said Fred pulling out an old square mirror. "Probably broke on your way home. Anyway, it's as good as new." He reached to hand it to Harry, but Harry stepped away. "What's the matter?"

Harry's face had turned ashen. He felt suddenly cold, very cold. Sirius had given him the two-way mirror to speak with him when he was at Hogwarts. Sirius kept the other. Harry had forgotten it until, until it was too late; if he'd remembered sooner, Sirius would still be alive. The film started to play in Harry's mind once again. What he'd forgotten walking the streets with Gabriella, suddenly came flooding back... a flash of red light, a black veil, and Sirius... gone. Slowly, he took the mirror from Fred's hand, wondering again if Sirius had the other mirror on him when he went through the black curtain. Harry had tried to use the mirror last spring, but when it failed he smashed it in his trunk.

He walked over to the window and looked out, lost in thought. Her room was dark... was she looking at him now? Water streaked down the window in sheets.

"Well, Fred, we'd better go," said George standing up. "Harry, can we report that you're okay then?" Harry simply nodded.

Fred walked to the center of the room and said, "And don't move the bed again, okay?"

George added, "This does mean our plans for your birthday are ruined. Did you have a gift in mind?"

A gift? He placed his head against the side of the window and gazed out across the street. His eyes watched the water dripping like so many tears off the windowpane; the reflection of his scar looked back at him in the glass. "They'll never find it," a voice whispered in his head, but another fought back, "I've got to see."

When the twins had gone, Harry undressed and sat on his bed. His mind was racing and his heart beating in anticipation. "Occlumency," he thought. "I must get myself under control." He let out a deep breath. The day's exam left his head. The thoughts of hatred at the pool were swept away. I love you vanished into the ether. Bellatrix on the street evaporated into nothingness. The gift... the gift splintered into a thousand fragmented pieces and disintegrated into dust. Soon he was asleep.

In the days following, Harry and Gabriella had resolved to spend as much time as possible at the pool.

"We can't let them win, Harry," she would say defiantly. Her eyes would burn hot, and he could see a simmering anger ebbing just below the surface; somehow, he thought he understood. So, before Harry would go to work in the afternoons, they would be at the pool when it opened, and when Harry finished work, they would return until the gates were closed. Harry stopped reddening and began to get a pretty decent tan. Mr. Nellis, no longer asked to look into Gabriella's bag, indeed, he'd asked that they park in his reserved spot, so that he could keep an eye on her car while they swam.

Harry awoke on his birthday when the owl delivering the Daily Prophet arrived. He glanced at the headlines; more information on protective spells; a group of rogue Dementors had been caught and Arthur Weasley was receiving high praise for his excellent work; the Ministry was undergoing renovation to prevent further incursions. He tossed the paper aside, threw on yesterday's T-shirt and strolled downstairs. Uncle Vernon had already left for work; Aunt Petunia was putting away the dishes and there was no food in sight. Dudley was at the couch with his videogame machine, the sound of engines racing roared throughout the house. Petunia cleared her voice in disapproval.

"Good of you to get out of bed sometime today," she said, placing the last plate in the cupboard. "As you very well know, this is a special day." Other than to tell him the date, she had never so much as mentioned his birthday before. "We will be leaving this afternoon for Dudder's middle-weight boxing exhibition in South Benton; we will stay overnight, then after the tournament tomorrow, go to visit with Marge. We will be back on Friday evening, and when we return, I expect to see this house exactly as it is now." She folded the dishtowel neatly and set it in the hamper. "You may have a mind to leave today, as you have done in the past," she said, glaring at him intently, and then as if regretting the words said, "but it would be wise for you to stay." She paused, and for a moment Harry saw something in her face she'd never shown him before... concern, but in an instant it was gone. "The front garden needs mowing, and I expect you to fertilize the flower beds. The inspection is in only two weeks, and I won't have our family lose because of your interminable laziness." She removed her apron, folded it, placed it in the closet, and then checked her hair in the mirror. "Come on, dear," she said to Dudley, "it's time we go meet the judges."

"I'm not going," Dudley said flatly. "Malcolm and Piers are coming over later; they're going to help me on a few moves."

"Oh, that Malcolm is such a sweet boy," she said smiling. "Very well, give them my best." She went to the door, straightened her dress, and stepped out into the morning air.

"Sweet as lemons," Harry sighed, after the door was shut. And he sat down next to Dudley who handed him the other controller.

Dudley passed Harry's car in the straightaway and said, "I haven't seen Malcolm since you two had your little meeting at the pool."

"Why not?"

"I don't know; he just keeps avoiding me--one lame excuse after another. Ernie thinks he's afraid of you."

"Me? I've never touched him."

"You never touched Aunt Marge either."

"Well, she had it coming." Harry passed Dudley on the curve.

"Yeah," Dudley sighed, "I suspect Malcolm did too." He put down the controller and Harry passed him at the finish. Dudley walked over to the cupboard under the stairs, opened the door, looked inside and then said, "They used to make you sleep here."

"Yeah. So?"

"I used to think it was funny; little Harry stuck in the cupboard." Dudley slammed the cupboard door. "Harry gets his burger taken away because I'm still hungry. Harry at home while I go to the show." Dudley moved to the window and leaned against the wall looking out. "I hope I get creamed tomorrow."

"You won't."

Dudley looked back at him and smiled slyly. "You're right," he said, and then he turned and continued to stare out at the street. There was a long pause as Dudley churned something over in his mind. Harry just watched until finally, still facing the window, Dudley spoke with a slow, sorrowful voice. "Do you know what I saw when the Dementor had me?" Harry straightened; he wasn't expecting this.

"I don't know. But, I'll bet it was worse than your worst nightmare."

"They showed me... I saw... me," whispered Dudley as he held his hand up to look at it just a few inches in front of his face. It cast a shadow with the morning sun onto the floor. "Well, what I am, or maybe what I'll be." He turned to look at Harry. "I won't let them teach me to hate, Harry; I won't hate others just because I hate it here. My happiest times are when I'm out of this dump at school, sound familiar?" He went to a bottom drawer in the kitchen and pulled it all the way out and set it on the floor. Then, reaching deep underneath, he pulled a small package out. He replaced the drawer and walked over to Harry. "Here," he said tossing the package to Harry, "happy birthday."

Harry sat, stunned. The gift was heavy. He pulled the paper away to reveal a round stone, about the size of a snitch. It was a smoky blood red with flecks of gold glittering in the sunlight. It looked as if hot red embers had been trapped just beneath the surface. "Cool, but..."

"It made me think of the remember-ball you told me about," Dudley said, not getting the word quite right, but the effort made Harry smile. "Take it with you to Hogwarts and when you see it remember that I'm sorry I was such an ass for all these years. And if I forget when we're at home, use it to clonk me on the head so I remember good-an'-proper." He grabbed his Walkman and headed to the door. "I'm outta here."

"Dudley? Tonight, I'm not doing anything; maybe we could catch a show... together."

"I'm off to South Benton to smash some bloke's face in, remember?" He opened the door and looked back. "But thanks for asking." The door shut behind him.

Harry sat for a few minutes, admiring the gift that Dudley had given him; it was like no stone he'd ever seen before. Finally, he went upstairs, showered, put on clean shorts and a shirt and quickly walked over to Gabriella's, his hair as messy as ever. He was going to have to leave for work soon. Soseh answered the door.

"Ah! Harry, come in, come in." The boxes were now gone and their home had the warm look of being lived in. "Gabriella's out for the moment, she should be back any time. Are you hungry?"

"No thanks, I'm fine. I just..."

"Don't be silly. Come. Sit down and eat."

Harry had two plates before he took a seat in the Darbinyan living room. The room was a bit too warm and Harry started to nod; it had been another long night. He woke with a start to something moving around his leg; at his ankle was beautiful white Persian cat. She was weaving her way in and around Harry's bare legs, leaving flicks of fur.

"I didn't know you had a cat," he called to the kitchen where Soseh was washing dishes.

"Gabriella has had Shara for years. She leaves fur everywhere she goes." Harry couldn't remember Gabriella ever mentioning her cat before. "I hear it's a special day today."

"What? No, not really, I have to work."

"Is it not your birthday?"

"Oh, that, well... yes; but I'm not much into birthdays really... bit overblown, if you ask me."

"Bit overblown? I think not! Birthdays should be vibrant celebrations, filled with laughter, filled with the memory of the parents that bore us, of the life we have been given, and thoughts of the years ahead we yet have to make a difference in this world!" She had stepped over to her front window and peered out looking for her daughter. "You have not made plans to celebrate, not even with Gabriella?"

"Well, no, not really, she's already given me a gift," he said holding his hand to his ear. Soseh smiled.

"An interesting gift, that; it holds two meanings I think, maybe more." She sat down across from Harry looking intently at him. "First, of course, is that both you and she wear them... a connection... a sign of love." Harry reddened. "Second, the earring matches your scar..." she paused, glancing at his forehead, "a sign of pain, I believe... great loss." Her face was soft and her smile gentle. He had been careful to cover his scar with his hair whenever he left the Dursleys; even now he knew it was covered by his fringe. Soseh had never before mentioned it, never asked about it, but now, her gaze was fixed upon Harry's forehead. "And still... I see another meaning..." Harry began to sit up; it was as if Snape were climbing into his brain. "Yes, someone else..."

The door burst open; Gabriella stood framed in a golden light. "Oh good, you're still here." She seemed out of breath, but was smiling as Harry stood up and gave her a kiss.

"Good morning," he said. "Where have you been off to?"

"Oh, nowhere really." She looked at her mother who was now crossing to the hallway. "Where's Papa?"

Soseh just shook her head. "He's out. Out again." There was a hint of anger mixed with worry as she disappeared down the hall. Harry wondered if Grigor's absence had been the source of their arguments.

Gabriella turned to Harry and asked, "Don't you need to be at work?"

"I have about fifteen minutes; more if you'll drive me," he said with the look of a lost puppy dog.

"YOU can drive yourself," she said slapping him on the shoulder, and then she held him tight. "I missed you."

"It hasn't even been eight hours," said Harry with a smile.

Soseh returned carrying a brightly wrapped package. "Happy birthday, Harry!" She handed him the gift. "Go ahead, open it now, but be careful."

Harry gingerly pulled the corners of the package open: a frame. Then he pulled the paper away; it was a painting. Standing on a beach, in front of a dazzling sunset, were Harry and Gabriella. They were looking into each other's eyes. She had one hand to his chest; his was to her face.

Gabriella shuddered, "Oh, Mama! You never told me. It's gorgeous." She was looking over Harry's shoulders, her hands around his waist.

"Yes," Harry said, "yes it is." But he wasn't thinking about the sea, or the brilliant colours of the sun. Soseh had captured her daughter perfectly--her hair, her eyes... Harry gazed at the gift for some time, staring intently at the girl next to him in the painting, and then quite naturally turned and hugged Soseh. "Thank you, it's perfect."

On the way to work, Harry drove the car while Gabriella's conversation seemed to be sidestepping something she really wanted to say. Finally, as they were rounding the last block, she took in a little breath and said, "Harry, I know you don't think your birthday's a big deal and all, but I was wondering..."

"Yes."

"Well, I was wondering if maybe you and I could have dinner tonight with Duncan and Emma." Before he could answer she added, "Nothing big, just the four of us. They really want to wish you a happy birthday, and besides it's only fair to Duncan, you went to his, right?"

Harry grinned. "Right." She was so strong, so determined, and yet at times so uncertain. "Just the four of us?"

"Yes."

"Just dinner?"

"Yes."

"Okay." A great big grin burst across her face. "But not too long, we owe each other some quality time." He shut his eyes and yawned rubbing his face.

"Harry?" Her voice was again uncertain. "I saw... the other night, did you have..." she stopped herself and then hoisted a smile back on her face. "I'll see you tonight, then? Emma and I will drop by at six."

They kissed and she drove away. Had she seen Fred and George in his room? Perhaps Mrs. Figg? Or was it something else?

Duncan was already at work when Harry arrived. He waved and called, "Hey, mate! We've got a load of new stock in back to bring up. I've been clearing this area up all morning. We should fit most of it here; it's all winter stock. And today... today is payday!"

Harry spent the afternoon assembling racks for skis to be displayed, large down coats, gloves, and snowboards. It was hard to imagine they were getting ready for winter while the sun was still so warm. Unpacking ski gloves, Harry realized that in few short weeks he'd be heading back to school. What was he going to do?

"What if I just stayed," he thought. "Dumbledore said I'm safe as long as I'm at home." He could spend the rest of his life on Privet Drive together with Gabriella... but, of course, he couldn't. He wouldn't run from his future; his destiny was to destroy or be destroyed, but then, it didn't say it had to be this year, or even next. What if he didn't face Voldemort for fifty more years? "You're dreaming," he whispered to himself, tossing another pair of gloves into the bin.

It had been a hard day's work and six was fast approaching. He was just about to unload the last box of children's thermals when a familiar voice spoke over his shoulder.

"Skis? Skis already? I'm surprised you don't have holly hanging from the windows!" It was the same elderly man he'd seen in the store before. He was wearing bright green pants, a pink paisley silk shirt, and the same cap he'd worn before; in his hand was a box of golf balls he'd just purchased. "You've been working hard here, haven't you?" Harry shrugged his shoulders and nodded; he'd made a point of getting as many hours as he could to pay for Gabriella's tires with the money he earned himself. "Modest too," he let out in a little laugh. "Not many boys your age are willing to put in the effort anymore." The gentlemen glanced out the front store window, and said with an odd intonation, "Well, I think there's still time for a few more rounds in the sun before winter sets in; what do you say?" He set to go out the door, but just before leaving looked back at Harry and said with a smile, "You would have made your parents proud, son. You deserve a happy birthday." Harry just stared as the door shut behind the old man.

If Harry had his doubts that this man was a wizard, they were gone. Was he the one Dumbledore had sent to watch him? He'd met other witches and wizards in town before, not knowing it at the time, only later to find them shopping in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. He was trying to decipher it in his mind, when Duncan called out, "Turn the sign around, mate. We're closed!"

Harry walked over and locked the front door, flipping the sign to read '~CLOSED~' to those walking by. He glanced out the front window, but Emma and Gabriella weren't there yet.

"Listen, mate," Duncan said. "Here's your paycheck; we can get it cashed and you can make your last payment on the tires to Wes tonight."

"But the girls... I don't want Gabriella to know."

"Emma called about an hour ago; they're running way late. I told her we had enough work to do to keep us going till seven. That should give us plenty of time. We can take my car, but you'll have to drive," he said shrugging his shoulders. "I haven't passed the test yet."

Harry realized that he didn't have his wand and nightfall was approaching again. He didn't want to find himself on the street once more in the dark without it. "Can we stop by my place first," he asked. "I'd like to change before dinner."

"I don't think so, Harry. Wes only stays a little while to clean up after they close. In fact, we better get going right now!"

By the time they drove up to the tire shop, Harry was feeling a bit apprehensive as the sun began to cast long shadows in the street. Surprisingly, he found it hard to find a parking space. "I thought you said they closed at six?" he asked.

"Beats me, mate; maybe they had a tire sale today or something."

They walked to the front doors and Harry tried to see through the front window, but all was dark in the shop. Harry turned to leave. "They're closed up; he's already left for the day. I'm sure the doors are locked."

Duncan looked away as if he had something in his eye. "I don't know... give 'em a pull."

Harry pulled at the doors, and they swung open. There was a flash of light and an explosion of sound. Harry stepped back shielding his eyes, but Duncan grabbed his shoulders from behind and pushed him through the door. The time, at last, had come.