| Chapter Ten: Good Guys, Bad Guys and a Dog |
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Dudley soon realized ("soon" being several months later, pretty good for Dudley) that the invisibility cloak was an excellent device for breaking rules. He waited until curfew one night, donned the cloak, and slipped out into the halls. After much wandering, he happened across Neville-something from Gryffindor.
"C'mon, Trevor," pleaded Neville, speaking to the ground. "Your going to get me in trouble. Trevor! Trevor...?"
While Neville searched and pleaded, the buck-toothed girl appeared around a corner. "Neville! What are you doing out this late?" she demanded in a loud whisper.
"Hermione, please... help me find Trevor! He got away again."
While Neville was facing Hermione, Dudley spotted what must surely be Trevor -- a toad hopping along the hall. Not wanting to spoil their fun, Dudley crept over the top of Trevor and scooped him up inside the cloak.
He then led them on a merry chase, dropping Trevor now and again and inciting him to croak, usually by means of a bit of fire (incendio being the first spell that Dudley had mastered). They eventually wandered into the Charms corridor on the third floor when Dudley got bored and tossed Trevor beneath a locked door.
Neville managed to hear the toad's croaking and Hermione magically opened the door. Dudley hung around just long enough to be as startled as the others by the giant, three-headed dog inside.
Dudley flattened himself against the wall while Neville and Hermione rushed past, then followed them down the corridor. He made a mental note to avoid that particular door in the future (thankfully, his parents had given him more money at Christmas, so his notepad was clear again).
Dudley was a few paces behind, still hidden beneath his cloak, when they stopped suddenly.
"Explain yourselves," demanded Professor McGonagall.
Dudley watched quietly while Hermione and Neville made their excuses for being out. McGonagall was not impressed. "I will not have this kind of behavior from students, especially first-years," she insisted. "You will each lose fifty points for this episode of rule-breaking."
McGonagall, taking points from Gryffindor? Dudley couldn't help but laugh out loud. When he did, McGonagall's head snapped towards him. "And fifty points from Slytherin, Mr. Dursley. Now off to bed, all of you!"
Dudley lumbered back to Slytherin as quickly as he could. Pansy and Greg were still in the common room, and he pulled them aside, still breathing heavily. They were quite surprised by the story of the three-headed dog. "But that's not all," explained Dudley. "I know McGonagall's up to something now!"
"Of course," said Pansy. "Why else would she be in that corridor?"
"Yeah, that too," said Dudley. "But she has to be a Dark Witch. She could hear me right through my invisibility cloak."
Dudley, Pansy and Greg all resolved to query Draco about the Philosopher's Stone again -- as soon as possible. They missed him at breakfast the next day, so their first opportunity came in Transfiguration Class. After McGonagall had given the assignment and the students were all practicing, Dudley slipped over to Draco.
"Draco, what else do you know about Flamel? Who else is on his side, and who's against him?"
"Nicholas Flamel?" mumbled Draco. "Well, Dumbledore --"
"Dursley! Malfoy!" interrupted McGonagall, standing near enough to have overheard them. "Stop talking and get back to the lesson."
"Yes, Professor," agreed Dudley bitterly. But Malfoy simply slumped his head and arms over his desk.
"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said calmly, "You need to get back to work."
"Why?" said the muffled voice of Draco. "Who cares about Transfiguration? Who cares about anything?"
"And what do you plan to do with your life, Mr. Malfoy, if you don't learn magic properly?"
Draco looked up one last time. "Life has no meaning," he stated. His head dropped back to his desk. He could not be roused again.
"I will see you after class," said McGonagall plainly.
"I bet she threatened him," said Dudley later. "She doesn't want us to find out anything."
"Draco should go straight to Professor Snape," suggested Pansy. But Draco did not return to the common room that night. After two more days, Dudley, Pansy and Greg resolved to see Snape on their own. Surely, a student couldn't simply disappear without anybody noticing.
Snape agreed to have tea with them on Friday afternoon in his office. After they arrived, he unlocked a cupboard with three tea tins inside, labeled "Slytherin", "Ravenclaw & Hufflepuff" and "Gryffindor". He served a deliciously sweet tea from the Slytherin tin.
But when they pressed him regarding Draco's disappearance, Snape refused to be suspicious of McGonagall. "Certainly, Professor McGonagall has her flaws," explained Snape. "She lords about her status as deputy Headmistress, favors Gryffindor outlandishly, thinks far too highly of her Animagus ability, and is a stuffy old curmudgeon. Nonetheless, she would not have harmed Draco."
"What happened to Draco?" asked Pansy.
"What's an Animagus?" asked Dudley.
"What's a curmudgeon?" asked Greg.
"Mr. Malfoy has been sent home for health reasons," replied Snape.
"But, Professor Snape," said Pansy tentatively. "We think that maybe McGonagall is trying to -- to steal the Philosopher's Stone!"
Snape arched his eyebrow in mild interest. "You figured out that it's here? Very good. But McGonagall? No, I don't think so. Still... keep your eyes open. No one should be above suspicion."
| Chapter Eleven: The Hole in the Floor |
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Dudley decided that the best way to protect the Stone from McGonagall and Flamel was to steal it first. He might be able to make a bit of gold, too. All he had to do was get past that dog. But even without a television set, Dudley still had only two eyes. He decided to tip off his friend Ron.
"You know about the Philosopher's Stone?" exclaimed Ron incredulously.
"Yup. Prof-- I mean, somebody is trying to steal it, but I can't say who."
Ron nodded his agreement. "Yeah, that's what we figured. We have to keep an eye on the third-floor Charms corridor."
Despite supposedly learning things in class, Dudley and the other students were expected to take exams at the end of the year. Dudley trudged through the tedious process, and was as glad as anybody when it came to an end. He celebrated by going all-out at dinner that night.
Later, Dudley passed Ron and Hermione rushing through the corridor, and Ron whispered to him in passing: "We've figured out how to get past Fluffy!"
Fluffy?
Dudley followed and caught up to the pair at the end of the Charms corridor.
"Well?" asked Dudley, as Ron and Hermione sat down.
"Well what?" snapped Hermione.
"You know how to get past the dog, right? Why don't we get the Stone?"
"There's more than Fluffy guarding the Stone," explained Hermione, rolling her eyes. "We're just trying to help protect it."
"Oh, right... of course," said Dudley. He was debating whether there really was anything in it for him when McGonagall appeared once again.
"So! You two... and Dudley? You expect to guard the Philosopher's Stone yourselves, I suppose?"
Dudley alertly pulled out his invisibility cloak and slipped it on.
Unfortunately, McGonagall's Dark powers were too strong. She pulled off Dudley's cloak right after he finished hiding beneath it. "Mr. Dursley... how stupid do you think I am? I just saw you standing there." Her nostrils flared. "Now all of you, get away from here and stay away!"
They fled. Dudley's suspicion was beyond doubt now. McGonagall was going to steal the Stone, and soon. That evening, Dudley went to warn Snape, but Snape was gone. Things were getting worse.
He needed help. Professor Quirrell was the next best choice after Snape, but he was also gone. McGonagall was eliminating them one by one. Dudley was the only one left to stop her. If he could surprise her at the door, throw a quick punch... there was not time for a better plan. Throwing caution to the wind, Dudley ran (walked quickly, anyways) to the third-floor corridor.
Luckily, he wouldn't have to do it alone.
"You again?" said Hermione acidly. She, Ron and Neville were already at the door.
Ron screwed up his face painfully. "It's... it's all right, Hermione. I think he can help. Maybe," he added, declaring Dudley the undisputed leader.
So Hermione got the door open and Neville played a flute for the giant three-headed dog. Underneath it was a trap door. Neville passed the flute to Hermione and jumped in first. After he announced that it was clear, the others followed.
They landed on a nasty plant which tried to strangle them. "Incendio! Incendio!" cried Dudley, waving his wand about, reflexively drawing on the last spell he had learned. It worked fine, of course, and the others followed suit.
They followed the passage at the bottom past a stunned troll (it probably heard Dudley coming) and then came to a chamber where silvery insects fluttered about. The chamber ended in a locked door. There were several broomsticks nearby. Hermione tried alohomora on the door, and Dudley tried incendio again, but neither worked.
"They're keys!" said Hermione, pointing at the silvery winged figures. "We have to catch the right one for the door."
By general consensus, Neville stayed on the ground. Dudley felt a bit naked without his bat, so he decided to let Ron have the glory of catching the key.
Beyond the door they came up against a giant checkerboard, but with too many checkers, all set up in the wrong places. Apparently this was "wizard chess", an obscure game with no equivalent in the Muggle world. Luckily, Ron knew how to play.
Dudley replaced the black king, of course, and Ron began directing the pieces. Dudley sensed that this was an occasion for him to serve as an inspirational leader. Eventually, one of the white pieces whacked Ron across the head. Apparently this was a foul that lost you the game (or else it was already ended and this was just a cheap shot, something Dudley could fully understand).
Neville stayed behind with the injured Ron, and Dudley and Hermione went into the next chamber. Here was a line of bottles which included a potion to move forward (through some flames), another to move backwards, wine and poison. Dudley once again provided inspiration.
"All right," concluded Hermione, picking up a bottle. "This is the one that gets us forward."
"Which one is the wine?" asked Dudley, keen to try some.
"Never you mind that," snapped Hermione. "Oh no! There's only enough left for one of us." She looked up at Dudley's scar and thought for a long moment. A very, very long moment. At last she sighed heavily. "Well, Dudley... I suppose it has to be you, doesn't it?"
"Yes, I'm sure it does," agreed Dudley without a trace of comprehension. Hermione handed him the bottle. Dudley figured it was the wine and she had been hoarding it all this time. He drank it all in one shot but it wasn't very good. His insides grew terribly cold, and he might have frozen to death if Hermione had not pushed him through the flames.
| Chapter Twelve: Professor Turban |
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The first thing that Dudley felt upon entering the last chamber was pain in his forehead, probably from the flames. This was followed by a sense of relief. "Professor Quirrell!" he called. "You're all right!"
Quirrell spun around from in front of a mirror, but his expression was grim. Dudley clapped a hand over his mouth. "Unless... is McGonagall still here, Professor?" he asked quietly.
"McGonagall?" said Quirrell. "No, it's just the two of us, my boy." Dudley was pleased that Quirrell had finally grown comfortable enough around him that he did not stutter.
"So, where's the Philosopher's Stone?" asked Dudley. "We need to get it, right?"
"Er... yes, of course," agreed Quirrell. "It happens to be inside this Mirror, but I haven't yet -- DON'T BREAK IT, YOU IDIOT!"
Once Quirrell calmed down, he managed to show Dudley how to use the Mirror of Erised. "What do you see, Dudley?" he asked eagerly.
"I'm making gold!" declared Dudley, fascinated by the image inside. "I'm getting rich! What about you? Are you making gold?"
"I see myself presenting my Master with the Elixir of Life," declared Quirrell reverently.
"Neat. Wow! I've got a huge pile and I'm buying lots of stuff. And you?"
"Elixir for my Master," said Quirrell.
"I'm buying an arcade, with real stand-up games! There's a snack bar, too!"
"Elixir for my Master."
"Now I've got recliner chairs attached to the games, and there's a huge television screen on the wall!"
"Elixir for my Master. Still. Any luck on that Stone?"
"Look at all that food --"
He is worthless came a high, cold voice that Dudley did not recognize. Kill him. Kill him now.
With a surge of terror, Dudley realized that he was the him. Worse, Quirrell seemed to be listening to this voice inside Dudley's head (or wherever it came from) because he moved to attack Dudley.
Without time (or any real skill) for his wand, Dudley swung a punch at Quirrell. It was even more effective than he hoped, but Quirrell did not give up. Dudley's scar began to burn as Quirrell fought back. The struggle continued until Dudley, blinded with pain, managed to push Quirrell away. Dudley fell to the floor, turned to the side, vomited, and then passed out.
"Hello, Dudley. Feeling better, are we?" the gentle voice of Albus Dumbledore awoke him to the bright light of the hospital wing.
"Professor? How did I get here? What happened to the Philosopher's Stone? I think Quirrell's gone mad!"
"Relax, Dudley. I brought you here after you lost consciousness. You were doing quite well in your battle, but you seem to have eaten far too much at dinner that night. Madam Pomfrey has been attending to your indigestion for the last two days And the Stone is quite safe."
"And Professor Quirrell?"
"Quite mad, yes. He was working for, and being possessed by, Lord Voldemort. That is why he was trying to acquire the Philosopher's Stone."
"But, but -- what about McGonagall?"
"Professor McGonagall, Dudley."
"Yeah, her. I thought she was trying to steal it."
"Alas, no. She simply doesn't like you."
Dudley sat up further and looked around his bedside. There were several treats on the table next to him.
"Tokens from your admirers," explained Dumbledore. Dudley had received a half-dozen chocolate frogs from Greg (actually a half-dozen cards, as the frogs had already been eaten) and a half-empty box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from Neville and Hermione. Dudley took a quick sampling of these, but somehow managed to get tripe, liver and bogey in his first three beans. There was also a flask of bubotuber pus from Fred and George and a single, unopened chocolate cockroach cluster from Ron.
"Professor? I have a few more questions."
"Ask away, Dudley," replied Dumbledore with a benevolent smile. "I shall answer what questions I can, unless you are obviously too thick to understand, in which case I beg you'll forgive me."
"Why does Professor McGonagall hate me?"
"Because of your outlandish behavior."
"What do you mean?"
"You act like a git in class."
"How so?"
"You are rude to her. A complete ass."
"But why does she hate me?"
Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time. "Alas, the first thing you ask me, you are too thick to comprehend. When you are older, when you are ready, you will understand."
Fair enough. "Then what happened to Draco?"
"Mr. Malfoy is suffering from chronic depression. There seems to be a void in his life."
Dudley had one more burning question, something he had wanted to know all his life. Yet he had never asked anyone, for fear of revealing that he himself did not know. But something about this old bearded guy, perhaps his deep, penetrating eyes, made Dudley certain that he could not be deceived.
"Professor? I'd like to know -- well, when I was a baby and Voldemort attacked--"
"Don't be pretentious, Dudley. Just say You-Know-Who. I'm the only one who gets to say Voldemort."
"Right, then. When You-Know-Who attacked me, how did I defeat him?"
"Your aunt Lily was sitting for your mother when Voldemort came to kill Harry. For reasons which I do not yet know, your cribs were switched around and Harry was not in the room when Voldemort arrived. Thinking that you were Harry, your aunt died trying to save you. This invoked an ancient magic which deflected Voldemort's curse."
"Wow."
"Anything else?"
"I think that's it, thanks."
"Don't you want to know how I hid the Stone in the Mirror?"
"Not really."
"It was quite clever."
"I'm sure it was."
Dudley made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He was held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting that he not eat too much. While Dudley could admit to himself, in rare moments of lucidity, that he was not a spectacular wizard, he knew much, much more than Pomfrey about the art of stuffing one's face.
The Great Hall was decked out in the Ravenclaw colors of blue and bronze to celebrate their winning the House Cup. Dumbledore stood up and announced the point total: "In fourth place, with 312 points, Gryffindor; in third, Slytherin, with 318; Hufflepuff has 352 and Ravenclaw, 426. Well done, Ravenclaw, but I have some last minute points to award."
Dumbledore then gave out a load of points to Ron, Hermione and Neville, catapulting Gryffindor into first place with 462 points. Dudley was happy for Ron, if a bit surly over all, until Dumbledore made one more award. "And finally, to Dudley Dursley, for... well, for not screwing things up when he had ample opportunity, I award a fifty percent discount on all points which he has previously lost for Slytherin." Dudley had lost an aggregate of 288 points, which he hadn't really counted, but when he looked at the revised total Slytherin was tied with Gryffindor at 462 points.
"Cool," said Dudley. He turned to Marcus Flint. "So what happens now? Do we share the prizes?"
"There aren't any prizes," answered Flint.
"That sucks. Let's eat."
Soon they were traveling home on the Hogwarts Express, Dudley sharing a cabin with Greg and Pansy. They chatted about their plans for summer vacation, with Dudley highlighting the more exciting aspects of Muggle life. Ron stopped by for a quick "hello", but he was apparently intimidated anew by Dudley's recent accomplishments, because he left very quickly.
They exited onto platform nine-something at King's Cross Station and made their way through the barrier in twos and threes. Dudley turned to Pansy and Greg for a final goodbye.
"Hope you have -- er -- a good holiday," said Greg uncertainly. "Too bad all you get to watch on that tellyfishin is those summer reruns."
"Oh, I'll have a good holiday," said Dudley, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. "They're only reruns if you've already seen them. I'm going to have a lot of fun this summer."
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