Prologue: The Dursleys of the United States

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Dudley Dursley was gifted a perfect childhood. Everything went his way, and everyone of any concern, to him, followed his word. 

And yet, a strange feeling constantly slithered in his mind. Something that was always bewildering to himself. 

An unrelenting sadness.

Dudley spent his youth in a suburban of London where eventually a very old, thin man showed up on his family’s doorstep. The man carried grave news, something about a danger and, about his cousin. He couldn’t remember much, he didn’t pay the man much attention besides being scared of him, but he did remember something that the old man said to his parents. 

The man reprimanded his parents and said that they had “mistreated” him. Outrageous! He had thought it so absurd, that his parents were the cause of this distress boiling inside of him. It had to be the one who didn’t give him everything he wanted. The one he had always hated and bullied and wanted out of his family’s house.

But his cousin was family. The more he thought about it in his adult years the more he realized the anger that boiled his blood every time he laid eyes on his cousin came from nothing but petty envy. It was never Harry's fault that he felt so dissatisfied with life.

He didn’t realize these feelings alone; his therapist was still helping him to understand what he could envy and why he struggled so much.

He also had her.

Dudley stared at the white parking lines as his thoughts moved from the light of his life to the darkness, the pavement surrounding the very slender lines in front of him. He nudged a loose peace of pavement remembering the day he had to leave his childhood home on Privet Drive. His father acted like a child with a twitching mustache and stomping his feet on the ground.

Dudley’s newfound faith in his cousin had led them to safety, or that was what Dedalus Diggle had said. An involuntary smile spread on his face at the thought of the man, the wizard, who stayed and protected his family through a very tough year.

His phobia of wizards had softened while corresponding with Mr. Diggle. Mr. Diggle wrote to him once a month without fail, kindly with the effort of using the normal method. Wizards alternatively mailed with owl and without Dudley even having to ask for it, Dedalus made the long walk from his home to the nearest post to keep in touch.

He was a kind man.

Harry, his cousin, was like that. Harry forgave all the things he and his parents put him through to save them. He could have very well just left Dudley and his family none the wiser, and the Dursleys, come to find out, would have been attacked immediately.

Dedalus mentioned Harry in his latest letter, but Dudley couldn’t pick up the courage to write back. His shame built a wall between the two of them and he just didn’t have it in him to end the awkward silence, but he intended to bring it up with his therapist on their next appointment. Then, hopefully, he would have the courage to write back to Dedalus.

He frowned at the shady youths loitering in the distance. His presence was the only thing keeping them at bay for the moment. He was surprised they hadn’t turned around and left at the sight of him. Years spent in sports like wrestling and later rugby presented him with an intimidating figure. Private security and clubs saw a great hiring investment but the mirror showed him a beast.

She didn’t agree.

He left the UK after Harry returned from his dangerous mission and found himself in the States. Here in America, he found someone who managed to tell him something that he never considered before; he didn’t have to be happy, at least not all the time. After hearing that, whatever he seemed to be holding inside himself was released. He had been, unknowingly, for years, pressuring himself into not feeling his feelings. She saw right through that when they first met.

At first, she seemed shallow, merely interested in his exotic British accent and muscles. She once said he was an intriguing person, that she liked the mystery. She wasn't shallow, she just wanted something different. She told him so on their first date…

"Dudley…. Diddykins, why do you keep taking so much from us? You gorge yourself like a pig. Pitiful. You will always be alone. You keep chasing happiness but can't find any, can you? Such a waste of space you should just die-"

The voices caused by Dementors echoed forevermore and sent a shiver down his spine. He shook away the shiver and the memory. The chill seemed to linger inside him for months after the attack so many years ago and every time he randomly felt cold a year after he felt terrified they were coming again. He couldn't see the Dementors like Harry could, so without him, he couldn't know if he was being attacked again.

Harry had saved him that day and that day he realized Harry had been fighting things like that to keep his friends, and his family safe. Safe but still he suffered and the shame and grief had begun to flow in front of Tiffany, his wife. She was the one who urged him into therapy then before long they had bore a child. 

That was another topic in Mr. Diggle’s letter. Dedalus wanted to warn Dudley to look out for signs. It wasn't something he could bring up in his next therapy session.

Nella turned six a week ago, and the financial burden had not once caused any regret in the household; the marriage was restful. Dedalus said he had at least a year to prepare, in case she was like his cousin.

Magic.

He was very integrated with American muggle society and he didn't want to ruin it by crossing a bridge before he got there. Tiffany could remain in the dark for nine more months.

Gravel grated against his boots but his eyes never left the dodgy characters across the parking lot until he felt a vibration in his chest pocket. He pulled his ringing cell out and caught the name Tiffany before sliding the green icon up and worriedly pressing his phone to his ear.

"Tiff! Are you alright? You don't usually-"

Her stressed voice was nearly audible across the lot. It was an emergency and he needed to come home immediately. Something was wrong with their daughter Nella. The teenagers waited for him to drive off in a panic before defacing the gate.

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Hey there diligent reader! I appreciate you for reading the prologue! Have your read this before? Did something seem different? A lot was missing perhaps? It’s okay! It’s on purpose! And if you’re new… none of that was any of your concern. Don’t look into it. Hehe.

 Random intrigue of the day:

After the battle in the Department of Mysteries what happened to the Death Eater whose head aged back and forth from the age of an infant? Did it ever get cured? Are they still trying to cure it? Maybe he's at St. Mungo's?

This keeps me up at night.

If some comments look weird to you it's because I learned from those comments and edited my story! I can't wait to keep learning and I hope I don't forget the things I have learned. Thank you!

Word Count: 1,248

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