Dudley's Discovery

"Diddykins! There you are!" Petunia said with a great smile. She rummaged through one of the sacks on the table and came up with another X-Box game. It was a first-person shooter game based on the James Bond movies. Dudley snatched it up and ran back to his room, snaking a box of cakes from another sack on his way out.

He didn't think to thank his mum for the game, but that was not unusual because he never did. He was annoyed that his mum had interrupted his fun and wanted to get back to his room so he could learn more spells. Some of the ones in the three books called "Standard Book of Spells" were quite interesting. It described things called jinxes, curses, and hexes that sounded particularly nasty. It was perhaps the first time Dudley had ever studied in his life, and study he did. If this was the kind of thing Harry was learning at school, Dudley knew why he stayed there every Christmas. It had to be fun, learning how to inflict all this damage on other people!

He became quite good at the spells that didn't require human subjects, but he was sure he would be good at those in no time once he was able to practice. He wrote down some of the words and motions for these spells involving humans on a slip of paper so he could take it with him to the park and headed out the door. The gang would be meeting soon. As he pulled on his jacket, his forearm burned a bit. He rubbed the burning tattoo and wondered again where it had come from. Harry didn't have one, so it couldn't be because of the magic. Of course, Harry did have that scar. Maybe every wizard had a different mark to signify their powers or something. Dudley didn't know all the details about what had happened to him, but he was determined to find out. But first, a little experimentation with the neighborhood children.

Far away from Little Whinging, in a carefully concealed and dilapidated house deep in a dark forest, Lord Voldemort sat watching the scene play out in his own mind. From the moment he had Disapparated from Privet Drive and Apparated to his current hiding place, he had been watching Dudley Dursley in his mind's eye.

"Master," a simpering, whining voice called out from a chair in a corner. Peter Pettigrew emerged from the dark corner and approached Voldemort cautiously. "Master, did you remember to enchant the mirror?"

"Do you think me a fool?" The high, cruel voice spat out the words with disgust. "Of course I did, it was my plan, after all! Why would I not carry it out completely? I enchanted the mirror before the boy came back into his room. It will reveal all his secrets."

"Please, master, do not be angry at me!" Pettigrew cowered behind a sofa, a shining silver hand in front of his face. "I just wanted to make sure we will see all and know all in this household. The plan is brilliant, but it is now left to chance."

"Chance! I leave nothing to chance, Wormtail!" Voldemort raged, wheeling around to face the crumbled Pettigrew, still hiding behind the sofa, making himself as small as possible without transforming to his Animagus form, a dirty rat named Scabbers. He had spent so many years as Scabbers that he was determined not to turn into him again unless he absolutely had to, though even in human form, he was still very rat-like. His nose always twitched when he was nervous or afraid, so right now he felt the incredible urge to sneeze, his nose was twitching so hard. "I will have this boy, this new wizard under my complete control and he will do my bidding. He will lead us to Harry Potter and will lift the protection that keeps him from me. His power already grows and he will feel it grow even more as he has more evil and destructive thoughts. As long as he continues to choose destruction, he will be under my control."

"But the Ministry of Magic will know, won't they? They will be able to detect magic being done in Little Whinging and they will go see what is happening," whined Pettigrew again, still twitching madly and wishing it would stop. He was afraid of this plan almost as much as he was afraid of Voldemort. So much could go wrong.

"Idiot!" Voldemort roared, but then, catching sight of the mirror on the wall, he walked over and tapped it with his wand so that he could watch Dudley put on his jacket to go out. He suddenly became calm and collected again. "There are certain ways to block the Ministry of Magic from knowing what is going on. What this boy does is magic, but it does not register with them because he is not using a wand." He stared into the mirror with great pleasure as Dudley picked up his scrap of paper containing the nastiest curses he could find. "Go, Dudley Dursley," he hissed. "Go and be destructive. Use curses, jinxes, hexes, and everything else you have learned today. Go and hurt the children of your neighborhood, and my control over you will grow just as your power will." He laughed his hollow, cold laugh again. "Harry Potter will not expect this. No one will."

Dudley turned back toward his room after putting on his jacket. The mirror over the dresser was glowing slightly with that same eerie green. He heard a soft voice in his head, or was it coming from the mirror? It was telling him to go and practice his new powers on the neighborhood children.

"Don't mind if I do," said Dudley, closing the door behind him. "I'm going to tea at Robert Johnston's house, mum," called Dudley as he came down the stairs. Before his mum could say a word, he was already out the door. It was an hour and a half before he was supposed to meet his friends in the park, but Dudley went there anyway. He sat on a swing and practiced some of his spells on pigeons that flew too close to him. One pigeon, hit with "Engorgio", swelled to five times its size and ran into a tree in shock. Dudley suddenly realized that was what those dreadful twins must have done to that toffee he ate a couple of years ago. His tongue had become so large it was lying on the floor before their father fixed it. It was just another example of how much fun magic could be. He walked over to the pigeon, no lying on the ground at the base of the tree. It was twitching nervously, as if it had brain damage from the impact. Dudley kicked it hard across the playground, toward his mates, who were coming to meet him. He straightened up and walked toward them. They were looking at the pigeon, which was more the size of a medium sized dog than a bird, and were all wondering aloud where it had come from. Dudley shrugged his shoulders quickly and changed the subject.

"Look, mates," he said with a sneer. "Here come some 'friends' of ours." Walking up the street at that very moment was a group of younger boys that Dudley liked to call "The Git Gang." They settled on the swings opposite the ones Dudley had been sitting on earlier and pretended they didn't see the gang of large boys headed toward them.

"Right," Dudley whispered. "Mark Evans and friends." He especially hated Mark Evans, mainly because his cousin Harry had defended him over the summer. Dudley grew angrier at the memory. He had been taunting Harry and then the git brought up the fact that Dudley must have to pick on little kids, as Evans is only ten-years-old. It was true, Dudley had beaten Evans up, but he was asking for it. He had cheeked Dudley, saying he looked like a giant pig that had been taught to walk on its hind legs. And then Harry had guessed what he said, which made Dudley even madder. An uncontrollable rage bubbled up through him and practically exploded from his fingertips as he came upon Evans and his friends. He stopped himself, pointed directly at Evans and shouted, "Furnunculus!"

Dudley's friends scattered and so did the group around Evans, as a choked scream came from both boys at the same time. Evans shouted because boils had suddenly erupted all over his face and Dudley shouted because of the electric charge that ran through him at the moment he said the incantation. It was power, pure and simple, and it was wonderful! It surprised him and caused him to shout, but the feeling was not unpleasant in the least. He wanted more, so he turned to find someone else to curse. But a voice stopped him.

"Evanesco," said Mark Evans quietly. Dudley looked over and saw an odd sight. Mark Evans with a wand? The boils that had appeared moments before were now vanishing before Dudley's eyes, which were widened in shock. Another wizard in Little Whinging? For a moment, Dudley thought of running to Evans and asking him if he had a tattoo or a scar or something. There was so much about this he didn't know. But his opportunity was lost because another voice, a female voice came across the park from a house a few blocks away. A woman was waving her hands in the air as she called out to her son.

"Mark Evans! You come home now, young man!" She sounded annoyed. Evans gave Dudley a very long look before turning to go.

"We'll finish this later, Evans," Dudley said, snarling. He turned and ran back to Number Four Privet Drive without another look back, leaving his gang to stand and gawk, trying to figure out what had just happened. He had a lot to think about this evening.

Mark Evans turned from Dudley and his gang and ran to his house, a few blocks away. He was mortified that his mum had called so loudly for him. It always embarrassed him when she used magical objects, since no one was supposed to know she was a witch. He was sure she had used the "Sonorous" spell to magnify her voice.

His dad was a squib who happened to meet his mum in Muggle London one day when she wandered there from Diagon Alley. Mark came from a whole family of squibs, except for his Aunt Lily, who had died under strange circumstances he never quite understood. He had heard the story of his family many times:

At one time, they were a great wizarding family, but something happened. Fifty years ago, they just stopped having magical children. The family hoped Mark would change that, since squib father managed to marry a witch. It would help build the family name back up in the wizarding world.

Their loss of magical abilities was shameful for the entire Evans line, including his grandparents. Everyone in the wizarding community forgot their lineage and thought of them as Muggles after so many generations had passed without a single wizard being born. But his grandparents had a daughter named Lily. She showed magical potential at a very early age, giving hope to the family once again. She went to Hogwarts, the first of her family in fifty years, and was gifted in charms. Although she had actually come from an old wizarding family, she was still called a mudblood, which was a nasty name for Muggle-borns, and she decided not to bother correcting them. After leaving school and marrying James Potter, she stopped communicating with her family, even with Mark's father, Robert Evans. They had a son before they died. Harry Potter was living with the Dursleys of Privet Drive.

Petunia Dursley was his dad's sister, but they hadn't spoken since Mark was born. Petunia said something nasty about Mark the day he was born because he showed magical ability right away. He levitated in his crib, to the surprise of hospital personnel! Mark's parents were so happy! Lily, Harry, and now Mark! Perhaps this family was not destined to become Muggles after all! His parents moved away after that and severed all ties with the family, but during the summer, they moved here, so close to the relatives they hated. Mark couldn't understand why and no one was saying. He was pretty sure it had something to do with Harry living here, though. All Mark knew was there were a lot of hopes pinned on him now, as the only living wizard with the Evans name, and one of two in the family.

From the moment he could understand it, his parents started telling him all about the magical world and buying him books with spells and history in them. They told him not to use magic in front of Muggles and until today, he had done quite well. Even when Dudley was beating him up over the summer, he didn't lose control.

Mark knew why his mum called him home so quickly. She knew he had been using magic. He quickly put his new wand away. It was an early Christmas gift from his parents. They had all taken a trip to Diagon Alley a few days ago so he could some of the supplies he knew he would need when he started Hogwarts. Mark thought the whole thing was premature, since he hadn't gotten his letter yet, but his mum and dad were so sure he would. He used the time it took him to walk the two remaining blocks home to think of an excuse for his use of magic. He couldn't think of a thing to say as he approached his doorstep, his mother still glaring at him, waiting for him to enter the house.

"What were you thinking," she shouted shrilly, pulling him by the ear into the living room. "Using magic in the middle of a whole group of Muggles! I'll have to punish you now, as I'm sure you know. The Ministry of Magic regulates underage sorcery by registered wizards who attend school, but since you are not yet in school, you are my responsibility." She held out her hand. "Your wand, Markus Evans!"

Mark gave his wand to his mum even though he didn't want to. He knew what she could be like when she got into a temper and he didn't want to be on the receiving end of any of her punishments. She never hurt him, but it was always miserable when she was mad at him.

"I will keep this wand for one week and then you can have it back. We're just lucky the Ministry doesn't police wizards under 11, or you would be expelled from Hogwarts before you even got your letter." She took the wand and vanished it from sight. "Oh don't worry. I know where it is and you will get it back. I just want you to understand how careful we must be right now. No one knows there are other magical people living here right now and as long as we're careful, no one will know. We are here to watch and see when we can make a difference."

Mark looked up at his mum again, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mum. I just had to get rid of the boils."

"Boils?" she said incredulously. "Where did you get boils?"

"Dudley Dursley," he answered between gritted teeth, still a bit angry at the memory. "I thought Harry Potter and I were the only wizards in the family. How is it that suddenly Dudley can hit me with a curse? Oh, and he did an engorgement charm on a pigeon. I saw it on the ground."

"He had a wand, did he? He is doing magic now?" Sarah asked.

"No wand," said Mark. "He did the motion with his hand, said the incantation, and then, poof! Boils all over my face!"

"He attacked you and did magic without a wand? That's very interesting. Indeed, very interesting. I should go see. Dinner in two hours. Must talk to your father. Go play in your room." She suddenly sounded distracted and Mark couldn't understand why. Surely people could do magic without a wand. After all, he had levitated when he was just a newborn, right?

He went up to his room and took out some of the books his father had given him about magical theory and the history of magic. Surely there was something in one of these that could help him figure out why his mum was acting so strangely. And how Dudley Dursley could suddenly do magic.

Section Five

Dudley stormed into the house and turned toward the stairs. He wanted nothing more than to go to his room and see what he could find out about a wizard being only a few blocks away from his own home. And it was Mark Evans, that little wimp he had beaten up over the summer! Why hadn't he defended himself before? And that wand! It looked like Harry's wand, only a bit darker in color and very shiny, like it was brand new. Dudley opened up another of Harry's old books, A History of Magic, and started to read. It was dull stuff, so he went to some of the parchments he had found under Harry's bed. There was a lot about someone named Voldemort, who was apparently a "dark wizard." Dudley wondered what that meant, so he read on. He was so involved with his reading he missed his mum's call for dinner. He didn't even know it was time until someone rapped on his door.

"Dudley! Dinner!" called Vernon, who had just gotten home from work.

Dudley shoved the parchments and books back under his bed and shouted through the door, "I'm coming, Dad!" He gave his room one last look before going down to dinner. It was time to have a talk with his parents.

The Dursleys sat down to a dinner of wilting lettuce salads and small pieces of grilled chicken. Vernon and Petunia were staring at their son with odd looks on their faces. Dudley didn't think he looked any different, except for the tattoo, which was hidden under long sleeves, but his parents were looking at them as if they had never seen him before. He decided to just come out with it.

"Tell me about Aunt Lily," he blurted, looking down at his pathetic chicken. His parents were completely silent for what seemed like five minutes, but then the commotion began. His dad dropped his fork and his mum gave a great shout.

"We do not speak about her in this house, Dudley, you know that!"

"But why, Mum? What was so wrong with her that you won't even speak her name?" Dudley asked desperately, hoping it was something other than her being a witch.

"Because she was a freak! A m-magical freak and my parents were so happy. My brother and I were nothing compared to perfect Lily and her freaky powers," spat Petunia, growing redder by the minute. Dudley had never seen his mum so angry.

"But Mum, I need to know about your, well our family." Dudley was begging now, but he didn't care. He had to know what was happening to him and he was sure, since Harry was a wizard, it had something to do with his Aunt Lily.

The phone rang, breaking the tense feeling in the room. Petunia lunged for it, as if she was grateful for the excuse not to talk to Dudley anymore. Dudley watched his mum carefully and saw the red fade from her face. Then he saw all the color that was left in her face drain away. Her eyes grew so large it looked as if they were going to pop out of her head, and she said nothing.

Dudley glanced at the clock on the microwave. His mum had been on the phone ten minutes and still had not said anything. He watched her sink to the floor, still not saying anything. Dudley thought it was strange for his mum to sit on the floor because she was so obsessed with being clean. Though it was always spotless, she was always telling Dudley to stay off the floor. Finally, after 30 minutes on the phone, she hung up and turned her gaze back to Dudley. Now, in place of anger, she had a look of fear in her eyes. Her hand was shaking as she pointed at Dudley.

"You..." she said, her voice breaking.

Dudley looked at both his parents and backed out of the kitchen. He grabbed his coat from the rack in the hall and ran out the door, not stopping to close it. He ran to the only place he could think of, the home of Mark Evans. Maybe he could find some answers about wizards there.