When Dudley met Harry

Previously in When Dudley Met Harry:

"Dudley, did you climb all the way up the ladder just to show me a stupid boo--" Harry gasped. In Dudley's hand was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

Chapter 2: The Dud Lights Up.

"Yeah," said Dudley grimly."

"Is that..."

"Everything. You do have a knack for getting in trouble, don't you?"

Harry took the book and flipped open to a random page. "Oh my God, it even has Norbert in here! Hagrid'll in so much trouble if someone finds out!"

"Hagrid's that git that tried to turn me into a pig, isn't he?" asked Dudley with a gleam in his eyes.

"Dudley!"

"Just joking, jeez..."

Harry gave Dudley, who was rubbing his chins with a mischievous look on his face, a very alarmed glance then turned back to the book. "Dudley, did you read through this whole thing?" he asked, flipping through the pages and pausing every once in a while.

"Yeah, I read every word," he replied proudly, "I really couldn't help it, could I? I'm in it. I've been handing out signed copies at school."

"To who?!"

"Well, let me show you."

Dudley flipped to the front cover and handed the book to Harry. There was written in pastel pink ink: "To myself. With frank admiration." Harry hastily turned his snort into a hacking cough.

"Can you sign it too?" asked Dudley with a pleading look in his eyes. Resigned, Harry picked up a nearby quill and wrote "Dudley, you silly idiot, here's your signature: Signed, Harry J. Potter." God, I am sooo glad Lockhart isn't here, Harry thought fervently.

"Thanks a lot," said Dudley sarcastically after reading it. Harry sneered at him then went to flip on his light so he could see the book better. The light burned out.

"Oh man," Harry moaned in consternation, "How in earth am I going to get that changed?!"

"Don't worry about that," said Dudley. With a wave of his Smeltings stick and a muttered Luminaire, the bulb glowed brightly again.

Harry stared. He squeaked then cleared his throat. "Dudley? What the hell was that?!"

"Magic," replied Dudley with an annoyingly superior look on his face.

"I bloody well know it's magic. You're a Muggle! You didn't get a Hogwarts letter!"

"Ever since that oaf Hagrid tried to turn me into a pig I've been able to so some magic. Well, when I have my Smeltings stick, that is. I think he must've messed up the spell."

"Oh," said Harry simply, nodding in confusion.

Just then an owl swooped through Harry's open window. It dropped a note on Harry's head then swooped back out again importantly without pausing. Harry recognized the style of owl and groaned. It was from the Ministry of Magic.

Dear Mr. Potter:

We have become aware of the casting of an unidentified lighting charm in your place of residence, Number 4 Privet Drive. As you have been previously notified, the Underage Wizard Act, Ministry Regulation Number 14A Section 293 Lines 47-53 strictly prohibits the use of magic outside of school. You should also be aware that experimenting with charms is extremely dangerous and should be attempted only in highly regulated areas under Ministry supervision. We have sent this note as a written confirmation of your expulsion from your current school, Hogwarts Academy. A Ministry official will be by in a few days to snap your wand and complete the ceremony of expulsion.

Sincerely,

Hanna Hipahookins,

Department of Underage Wizardry;

Geoffrey MacGirvins,

Department of Experimental Charms.

Harry was in a very sad state. He hadn't taken a shower in almost a week in his depression. His hair, which was previously messy but soft and clean to the touch was matted and almost one-tenth as greasy as Snape's hair. His eyes were ringed with dark shadows and his face was the greenish-gray color of a rotten kiwi. He had been expelled. Dudley cast a really weird spell he had never seen before, and Harry was expelled. They were going to snap his wand. The wand that Fawkes donated a tail feather for. The wand that had saved him from death at Voldemort's hands. The wand that made the most beautiful patronus. The wand that always gave the wrong result in Transfiguration.

While Harry's glum thoughts kept him staring blankly at a spot on his wall next to his door, Dudley was going through his own mental turmoil. A few months ago, he would've thought this situation was hilariously brilliant. He would've congratulated himself for getting Harry expelled from the one place he was happy. But now Dudley had seen some friendliness in Harry. He wasn't just the lowly abnormality in the family. The book Dudley had read gave Harry a very human aspect. Okay, a superhuman aspect. So now what to do? Should he tell the Ministry official that he was the one that had cast the spell? His mum and dad would love that. So should he value his parents' unconditional love over Harry's education? Dudley turned over in bed. He'd just have to think about it in the morning.

Morning came too soon, unfortunately, and with it came a man from the Ministry. Harry heard a polite knock at the door and finally came out of his stupor. Downstairs he could hear his aunt make her way to the front door and pull it open. Harry jumped out of his bed to put his ear at the door. Something cold and wet stuck to his feet. It was soup. Four cups of soup. Evidently, Harry had forgotten to drink his meals for the past day and a half. Suddenly he felt very woozy what with lack of food and water and anxiety over the fate of his wand.

Aunt Petunia opened the front door to see a disturbingly familiar man wearing a flowery blouse under worn-out overalls and a pair of soccer cleats. She slammed the door shut in his face.

Another knock came at the front door. Aunt Petunia ignored it, hoping the man would go away as Mr. Dursley was presently out to work. She had no such luck. With a small pop, the man appeared in her living room and cheerfully waved his hand. "How do you do, Mrs. Dursley?" he asked with a very fixed smile on his face. She screamed.

Upstairs, Harry suddenly got a very large headache. Aunt Petunia's screams were notoriously loud and high-pitched. That must be the Ministry official he thought miserably, why can't she just let him come in, snap my wand, then leave again? I mean, from the sound of it, it must've been Snape and he must've given her a very wet kiss on the lips. Oh damn me and my disgusting thoughts! I can't get that one out of my dirty head!! Revolting...

Just then Harry heard voices right outside his door. "What, you mean he's locked inside? You don't even have a key?" said a muffled voice.

"Oh, I think we lost it a few weeks ago. It's very hard to keep track of little things like that," Aunt Petunia replied matter-of-factly.

"You terrible woman! Don't you know what that poor boy has been through?" asked the man in a very high-pitched voice.

"Do I look like I care?" she asked. The man gave a disgusted sigh and with another small pop Apparated on Harry's soup.

"Oh my God," he uttered softly; taking in Harry's ruffled appearance and starved body. It was Mr. Weasly.