Dudley book one

Chapter One: The Boy Who Kicked Butt

Dudley Dursley, of Number Four, Privet Drive, was very special, thank you very much. At the age of eleven, he had saved the Earth from destruction thirty-seven times, killed 583,000 malicious aliens, and won the World Cup of Soccer eight times (and the last three victories were accomplished without cheat codes). He had also defeated some Dark Lord when he was a baby.

The incident involving the Dark Lord had left Dudley with a scar -- namely, his cousin Harry. Dudley had a scar on his forehead, too. As both scars had recently finished primary school, they were now about to separate for the first time in years.

"Are we actually going to send him off?" his mother asked when Dudley's letter had arrived from Hogwarts. "To... to those people?"

"Well, Petunia," his father answered, "Dudders is a hero to them. And you know how is normal teachers act, nitpicking over minor things -- like failing exams and skipping class."

"And starting fights and stealing," added his mum, absentmindedly. "Yes, they do exaggerate. I suppose..."

So Dudley was off to Hogwarts. Harry would be going to Smeltings, because Vernon Dursley expected someone in the family to attend. More exactly, Vernon Dursley had friends who expected someone in the family to attend, and Vernon Dursley thought his friends were wise and important, and they might buy drills from him someday.

Dudley was awaiting his escort one afternoon while Harry tried on his Smeltings uniform. It consisted of a tailcoat, knickerbockers and a straw hat. Dudley wanted to tell Harry that he looked like Tom Sawyer trying to go formal at Oktoberfest, but Dudley wasn't that clever. So he said, "You're uniform looks silly, Harry."

Harry looked down at his outfit. "Yeah, it's pretty ridiculous," he agreed with a good-natured smile. Dudley was enraged by this attitude and was about to vent his anger on Harry. But before he got to his favorite part of venting (punching Harry), there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, hello," said Vernon uncertainly to the caller, a stringy man with greasy black hair and a long, hooked nose.

"Good morning," he greeted them in an oily voice. "I am Professor Severus Snape. I'm here to pick up Dudley."

"Ah. Won't you come in?" asked Vernon. Then in hushed tones to his wife, "Petunia, let's talk in the kitchen."

Snape took a seat in the living room near Harry. Dudley's parents slipped into the next room and Dudley rushed to put his ear to the keyhole.

"He looks unkempt," muttered his dad. "Did you see that hair?"

"Oh, Vernon, he's so thin," whined his mum. "Do you think wizards get enough to eat?"

"But I suppose that's normal for their kind."

"I hope they feed Dudley well at that school."

"Yeah, that's probably how the real big shots are supposed to look."

"He still has so much growing to do."

"I agree, they wouldn't take any chances with our Dudders."

"Yes, we'll definitely have to send him extra treats every week."

Shortly thereafter, Professor Snape and Dudley were packing his many possessions out the door, while Harry fled from the living room, scratching himself madly. "It looks like your cousin has developed a bit of a rash," observed Snape with a wicked smile. Dudley liked him already.

Chapter Two: Dudley's Many Admirers

Diagon Alley was a lot like home, in that everyone seemed to know just how wonderful Dudley was. He shook many hands and signed a few autographs at the Leaky Cauldron before Snape managed to pull him away.

Their next stop was Gringott's, the wizarding bank. "Your parents have given me Muggle money for your school supplies," explained Snape. "How trusting. We'll exchange it here."

Upon entering the bank, Dudley fought back the urge to start laser-blasting everything in sight. Snape explained that the creatures here were called 'goblins' and that they guarded a lot of treasure. Dudley felt he was quite capable of taking on guardian monsters (as he had done in Death Temple Four), but he settled for exchanging his own wad of bills at the long counter. Dudley wanted cash, which the stupid goblins did not seem to understand -- so Dudley insisted on taking as many coins as possible.

"Very well," said Snape, hefting the larger bag of Dudley's bronze Knuts. "I have an important errand here on behalf of the Headmaster. We will be entering the vaults."

They went on a fine carnival ride, with a very short line. Snape pulled a single, grubby package from Vault 713 and they returned to the upper level of the bank.

"What did you get from the vault?" asked Dudley.

"Something important," answered Snape, "that must now be protected at Hogwarts. It is called the 'Philosopher's Stone'."

Dudley yawned. From his vague notions of 'philosophy', he couldn't imagine the stone being interesting. Too bad it wasn't something cool, like a 'Sorcerer's Stone'.

Dudley meant to browse the shops in Diagon Alley while Snape fetched the school supplies. But Snape insisted that Dudley first buy his own wand. Then, once they were inside Ollivander's, the shopkeeper tried to confuse things. "The wand selects the wizard, Mr. Dursley."

"Okay," said Dudley, taking a seat. "I'll wait."

But there was more to the process. Ollivander offered a variety of wands for Dudley to try, most of which did nothing. Ollivander immediately snatched these away.

Dudley wasn't stupid. Obviously, Mr. Ollivander had a large stock of defective wands. He ought to be sorting them out on his own time. Finally, Dudley sampled a wand which shot red and gold sparks.

"Very interesting..." mused Ollivander, making ready to package the wand for sale.

"What, you're selling me that one?" complained Dudley. "It doesn't do much."

Ollivander went off on a tangent about somebody's brother giving Dudley his scar. Dudley didn't have a brother, so maybe this Ollivander fellow was supposed to be Voldemort's brother. Whatever.

Dudley then got down to the business of spending some money. He quickly emptied his larger bag of bronze Knuts, acquiring several shiny objects and some necessary nourishment. He figured that if his money ran out, there would always be gratitude and gifts for the Hero Who Conquered the Dark Lord.

Also, there was the money his parents had given to Snape. "Snape," pleaded Dudley when they met up again. "Are you buying everything from that stupid list? Even the books?"

"The books are necessary, Dudley. You still have a great deal to learn."

Dudley considered this. "Why don't we go into the bookstores and see which books select the wizard? I probably don't need that many. I'm already the Hero who --"

"You will buy them all," answered Snape coldly.

Dudley pouted. Snape remained firm. Once the supplies were purchased, however, Snape did make one concession: He purchased a magical trunk which held much more than it's apparent size would suggest. "I have a feeling you'll need it," he remarked.

Chapter Three: Some Old-fashioned Train

Snape left Dudley at Platform Nine-Something where Dudley was to board the train for Hogwarts. A red-haired woman, rather thin-looking (to Dudley's eye) showed him how to pass through the barrier. She must have sensed that Dudley was in a hurry, because she did not ask for an autograph.

Dudley boarded the train and waited for the escort to his private compartment. He waited. And waited. There must have been some mix-up, because he was still in the corridor when the train began to move. He quickly sought out a compartment with an open seat and found himself sitting across from a gangly red-haired boy.

Dudley pulled back his hair to show his scar. "Dudley Dursley," he announced proudly, offering the boy his hand.

"Wow," replied the boy, shaking Dudley's hand. "I'm Ron Weasley. First year at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," answered Dudley loftily. "Of course, it's only my first year of formal training. I've done a lot already, you know."

"It's my first year, too," said Ron, looking for something in common with Dudley. "But I've learned a few things about Hogwarts from my older brothers. My family are all wizards."

Of course, thought Dudley. The other students would be here largely as a matter of potential, because they had wizard parents. Many of them would probably be sent home shortly. "So, what do we do there, anyway?" asked Dudley, his curiousity overcoming his almost non-existent sympathy.

"First of all, we get sorted into our Houses. There's some kind of test for it, I think."

Dudley was not the least bit concerned about any wizarding test. "What are the Houses?"

"My brothers are all in Gryffindor," began Ron. "That's for people who are brave. Then there's Slytherin, for purebloods and ambitious wizards. Ravenclaw is where all the really smart people go and then the rest go to Hufflepuff."

"I understand," said Dudley, not understanding at all. "So which one is the best?"

"Um, none of them, really. They're just different."

Dudley thought about the various Houses while he and Ron talked intermittently. After a couple of hours, a woman opened the compartment door to offer snacks from a trolley.

"I'm okay," declared Ron, displaying an ugly-looking sandwich. Wizard families apparently had different taste buds.

Dudley bought some of everything. His money was mostly gone now, so he made a mental note to write to his parents for more. Then he remembered that he had no owl, so he tried to make a mental note to buy an owl -- unfortunately, his mental notepad was already full.

Dudley began working through his provisions. He must have been right about wizard taste buds, because Ron was watching Dudley eat with a strange kind of fascination. Ron even forgot about his own sandwich.

As the trip wore on, they had several visitors. A bushy-haired girl came by looking for somebody's toad and left shortly thereafter. "Did you see those buck teeth?" joked Dudley, sticking two fingers down from his upper lip. Ron didn't even laugh. The poor boy -- he must not have a sense of humor! This had to be a real treat for him, sitting with Dudley Dursley.

There were also three boys who came together: Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Dudley liked them, because they recognized him right away.

"So you're the famous Dudley Dursley," drawled Malfoy.

"I sure am," beamed Dudley.

"You must be a Weasley," declared Malfoy, looking at Ron jealously. Dudley would have told Draco that it was mere chance that Ron got to sit with him, but Dudley's mouth was full. "You'll find that some wizarding families are better than others, Dursley," continued Malfoy. "You'll want to avoid the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand.

"Thfmangks," muttered Dudley around a mouthful of Cauldron Cake, shaking Malfoy's hand. Just to be fair, he also shook hands with Crabbe and Goyle before sitting back down across from his friend Ron. Malfoy and the others looked stunned (who wouldn't be?) and then quickly departed.

continue with
Dudley and the Philosopher's Stone chapters 4-6

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Dudley Dursley and the Philosopher's Stone