"We're not stupid, you know," says Uncle Vernon.
"Well, that's news to me," says Harry, his annoyance rising, and before the Dursleys can call him back, he wheels about, crosses the front lawn, steps over the low garden wall and strides off up the street.
His thoughts go back to the many birthday cards he got on his birthday, leaving the ones from Hermione, Ron and Sirius unopened. They are none of his business and he doesn't care for them. Any love he might've once harboured for them is now gone.
His face lit up when he read the card on the 31st of July; the card sent by his mate, Cedric Diggory.
Harry still can't believe that the Hufflepuff is alive, that he survived. He still has nightmares of Cedric's death, fright that he might wake up to find him gone. It's then that his letters turn frantic, almost crazed. Only with reassurances are his fears quelled, which brings him to his current anxious thoughts. Cedric hasn't sent any letters in the past week! Usually his mate's replies come in one day to two days intervals. Has his letter been caught? If so then by who? Who would intercept his letter? Furthermore, Cedric hasn't been replying to his telepathic messages either. Is Cedric somehow angry with him? But that couldn't be right.
Harry picks up his pace, that turns into a small sprint. His thoughts travel over to Sirius and those letters he did read. He scoffs and rolls his eyes.
Well, thinks Harry, as he crosses Magnolia Crescent, turns into Magnolia Road and heads towards the darkening play park, I have done as Sirius advised, albeit reluctantly. He has at least resisted the temptation to tie his trunk to his broomstick and set off for Diagon by himself.
In fact, Harry thinks his behaviour has been very good considering how frustrated and angry he feels at being stuck in Privet Drive so long, reduced to hiding in flowerbeds in the hope of getting away from those dimwitted muggles. Nevertheless, it was quite galling to be told not to be rash by a man who had served twelve years in the wizard prison, Azkaban, escaped, attempted to commit the murder he had been convicted for in the first place, then gone on the run with a stolen hippogriff...
It makes his blood boil with fury. Fury that stems from deep within. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm down.
Harry vaults over the locked park gate and sets off across the parched grass. The park is as empty as the surrounding streets. When he reaches the swings he sinks on to the only one that Dudley and his friends have not yet managed to break, coils one arm around the chain and stares blankly at the ground.
He misses Cedric, he craves the brunette's touch and his kisses. The only comfort he can relish in is the fact that Cedric is alive and healthy, the question now is for how long will that be the case? Dumbledore could strike at any moment, Harry can lose Cedric at any moment. He knows he promised his lovely mate to not baby or shelter him so much. But it's hard not to. Harry knows Cedric can keep himself safe, he knows... Is it wrong of him to want to keep Cedric out of the war? His eyes open again... When did he close them? Why is he suddenly feeling so hopeless again? How are Theo and Natalie now? Are they living with Tom or are they at their previous homes? Harry supposes there is only one way to find out.
"Hey, Tom?"
He waits a short while in a choking silence, a lump builds in his throat until he can't swallow. Only then does he realise he's crying. His hand shifts up to furiously wipe at his eyes. Why is he crying?
"What's the matter now brat? And quit that whimpering." There is no bite in the words just the general concern a parent would show. Harry chokes on a mix of a sob and a laugh. Fuck feelings! "I wanted to know if Natalie and Theo are living with you. Theo hasn't mentioned anything in his letters."
"They are both safe with me, I must thank you again for lending us the Potter manor in Wales."
Harry smiles through his tears, there's so much pain and he doesn't know where it's coming from... Is it fear? It must be... "Of course. Thank you for saving them both. I know they are your children but it means a lot to me. At least one of us is living with a normal family." He laughs derisively.
"I'm certain you'll be taken to that safe place Severus has been telling me about. You'll see your father soon and your friends too. I must apologise again for what I have done to you in the past. I won't repeat that again, you hear me brat?!"
Harry smiles and hums softly into the connection. Surprisingly enough that reassurance from the man who should be his enemy, quells his worries more than any letters from Hermione, Ron or Sirius combined. Harry feels his spirits lifted up a tiny bit. He wipes his puffy eyes again, now is not the time to shed tears.
He does not know how long he has sat on the swing before the sound of voices interrupts his musings and he looks up. The streetlamps from the surrounding roads are casting a misty glow strong enough to silhouette a group of people making their way across the park. One of them is singing a loud, crude song. The others are laughing. A soft ticking noise comes from several expensive racing bikes that they are wheeling along.
Harry rolls his eyes, a stinging in his gut and eyes. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat to no avail and he hates it. He knows exactly who this is and he doesn't feel like having a conversation with them. He might just curse the lot in his irritability.
The figure in front is unmistakeably his cousin, Dudley Dursley wending his way home, accompanied by his faithful gang.
Dudley is as vast as ever, but a year's hard dieting and the discovery of a new talent has wrought quite a change in his physique. As Uncle Vernon delightedly tells anyone who would listen, Dudley has recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter-school Boxing Champion of the Southeast. 'The noble sport', as Uncle Vernon calls it, has made Dudley even more formidable than he has seemed to Harry in their primary school days when he served as Dudley's first punchball. Harry is not remotely afraid of his cousin any more but he still doesn't think that Dudley learning to punch harder and more accurately is cause for celebration. Neighbourhood children all around are terrified of him--even more terrified than they are of 'that Potter boy', who, they have been warned, is a hardened hooligan and attended St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.
His thoughts turn dark as something snaps. He craves for something to break, to humiliate, the way he has been broken and humiliated. He's hungry for screams, for pain, Harry wants to see the fear in his tormentors' faces. A cold high laugh escapes his lips, it starts quietly and gradually rises in volume.
Harry watches the dark figures crossing the grass and wonders who they had beat up tonight. Looking round, Harry finds himself smirking as he watches them. Come on ... look round... I'm sitting here all alone... Come and have a go...so I can break you first. I want to crush you!
Harry knows what will happen and so he stands up from the swing and makes his way out. He will just have to catch up to Dudley and then he can take out his growing desire to cause pain on that blasted Dementor. He won't let it take his brother as a tool to cause him pain or fear. Harry licks his dry lips. He can't wait. Giddy anticipation rising within him, his mind certainly is something twisted. He almost laughs at the fact that he has become so unstable that he can switch so easily between emotions. Look at him now...he's driven by the desire to inflict pain, all hopelessness gone.
He walks quickly, so that halfway along Magnolia Road Dudley's gang comes back into view again; they are saying their farewells at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent. Harry steps into the shadow of a large lilac tree and waits.
"...squealed like a pig, didn't he?" Malcolm says, to guffaws from the others.
"Nice right hook, Big D," says Piers.
"Same time tomorrow?" asks Dudley.
"Round at my place, my parents will be out," says Gordon.
"See you then," says Dudley.
"Bye, Dud!"
"See ya, Big D!"
Harry waits for the rest of the gang to move on before setting off again. When their voices faded once more he heads around the corner into Magnolia Crescent and by walking very quickly he soon comes within hailing distance of Dudley, who is strolling along at his ease, humming tunelessly.
"Hey, Big D!"
Dudley turns.
"Oh," he grunts. "It's you."
"How long have you been "Big D" then?" Asks Harry keeping himself under reigns. His eyes gleam with mal intent.
"Shut it," snarls Dudley, turning away.
"Cool name," says Harry, laughing that high pitch laugh again and falling into step beside is cousin. "But you'll always be "Ickle Diddykins" to me." He grins with gleaming green eyes.
"I said, SHUT IT!" says Dudley, whose ham-like hands have curled into fists.
"Or what? You'll punch me? Hurt me? Haven't you already done so in the past? I'm not afraid of you Dudley. I've been through hell and back, I've seen death in the face, literally. I've seen people die and be tortured. Murder, abuse and you don't know how hard it is to hold back... I want nothing more than to kill you and your idiots for parents, but you are lucky you are still of use to me." Harry smiles sweetly.
Dudley gulps but keeps a straight face. "You don't mean that. You can't kill, you can't even hurt a fly. I've seen you grow up." He doesn't sound convinced.
"Oh, but dear Diddykins, you couldn't be more wrong. I hate muggles. Your kind are the worst. But my, aren't you lucky? I don't care what happens with you, you aren't worth my time."
"You think you are so strong because of that thing you carry around, don't you?"
Harry raises an eyebrow and takes his wand out eyeing it curiously, "You mean this? Oh, but I don't need my wand to cast magic. And you know what's even better?"
"You're not allowed," Dudley says at once. "I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freak school you go to."
"Wandless magic is untraceable so long as you know how to mask your magical signature. I could curse you right here and now and no one would be any the wiser."
"You're lying! I know you are."
Harry grins back at his cousin. "Am I?" Harry laughs softly.
"You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?" Dudley snarls.
Harry laughs out a scoff, "Whereas you just need four mates behind you before you can beat up a ten year old. You know that boxing title you keep banging on about? How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?'
"He was sixteen, for your information," snarls Dudley, "and he was out cold for twenty minutes after I'd finished with him and he was twice as heavy as you. You just wait till I tell Dad you had that thing out-"
"Oh please, I've taken on a dragon this year, had to swim for an hour with a bleeding leg, almost died at the age of eleven and again at the ages of twelve and thirteen. I faced my biggest fear, and I almost lost someone precious to me. You can't imagine what utter shit I've been put through by incompetent adults. They aren't to be trusted, never. All they do is use you while you're too much of a child to understand. But I can imagine your brain is too small to comprehend anything I have said."
"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneers Dudley.
"This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."
"I mean when you're in bed!" Dudley snarls.
He stops walking. Harry stops a few ways ahead too, staring at his cousin.
From the little he can see of Dudley's large face, he is wearing a strangely triumphant look.
"What d'you mean, I'm not brave when I'm in bed?" Asks Harry, completely nonplussed. "What-am I supposed to be frightened of, pillows or something?"
"I heard you last night," says Dudley breathlessly. "Talking in your sleep. Moaning."
"What d'you mean?" Harry asks again, but there is a cold, plunging sensation in his stomach. He revisited the graveyard last night in his dreams. He knows that that's in the past now and that he succeeded but...
Dudley gives a harsh bark of laughter, then adopts a high-pitched whimpering voice.
""Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!" Who's Cedric--your boyfriend?"
Harry's blood runs cold, his eyes turn a steely black. "Do not use his name! Cedric is my mate, which I suppose is the equivalent of a boyfriend. You have no right to say his name! Say it one more time, I dare you, and I won't hesitate to slit your throat open!" He draws close to the taller boy. Harry smirks at the idiot and lays a strong, slender finger against the blond's chest.
"Now Dudley, have you ever fucked anyone? Had a full-blown orgasm? Because I have. I'm not a virgin, I haven't been for a long time."
The blond fumbles with a beet-red face. He stumbles over his words. Harry smirks and continues to corner the large blond against the wall of the alley. A hand traces a plump cheek. Dudley's legs wobble as his breathing picks up, Harry smirks and presses closer. "No matter what sexuality you might have, once driven into a corner anyone would give into their hormonal, primal desires. That corporeal desire that transcends all other senses. I know them all too well. You feel everything within you aching for more, yearning for proximity."
Harry slides away with a satisfied smile on his face. He sighs contently.
"Wh-what did you d-do?"
Harry turns with a soft hum towards his cousin and raises an eyebrow. "Please be more specific, big D."
"Look at me! I'm trembling! I'm not scared."
Harry smirks and just like that releases his glamour and wipes his long hair to the side. "I tend to do that a lot to people. I manipulate with my looks my disposition and body language. I twist my words to please the people around me or to utterly crush them. In the real world you need any power you can grasp, become someone influential and make lasting connections to the people in high places. Dudley, there is so much more to the world than just petty vandalising."
The blond looks flabbergasted at the person in front of him. This was supposed to be his scrawny cousin, not some lean, tanned brunette. This is nothing like Harry and his eyes are a different colour too. Begrudgingly Dudley has to admit that they are gorgeous.
"Who are you?" He finds himself asking. Those deep black eyes stare at him.
"I'm Harry Lupin. I'm not related to Lily Potter in any way, she and James blood adopted me so that I would look like them. But as you can see, this is what my true appearance entails." A lofty chuckle escapes his lips and Dudley finds himself licking his dry lips.
But suddenly the blond lets out a choked squawk. There's so much cold around them...darkness...fear...
His eyes blow up wide and blindly stare around. "What are you doing?!" Harry is no where to be seen.
"Be quiet!" Harry hisses in front of him.
"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I-"
"I told you to be quiet! This is a Dementor, they feed on four happiness and will suck out your soul with a kiss. Now be quiet otherwise it'll hear you and come this way!"
Harry stands stock still, turning his sightless eyes left and right. The cold is so intense he shivers; goose bumps erupted up his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up-he opens his eyes, staring blankly around, unseeing. He strains his ears.... He would hear them before he sees them....
"I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whimpers. "W-where are you? What are you d-do-?"
Harry sighs and let's his magic settle around them creating the bit of warmth and light he can produce. He turns to his cousin, the child in front of him, Harry'sgaze softens slightly. Cedric is right, Harry is too good with people...sometimes. "Look, Dudley. A Dementor isn't something to be taken lightly. I'm not causing this darkness, I could never. Dementors are the epitome of black magic, black magic corrupts and isn't compatible with a grey core," Harry softly murmurs, "What I'm trying to say is that what I'm about to do will get me temporarily expelled from Hogwarts, but it will keep us safe. All I need you to do is stay put. Is that alright with you?"
Dudley shakily nods and looks as Harry turns to the noise emanating from the darkness. The blond is scared, yet awed at the courage the brunette in front of him is displaying.
There is something in the alleyway apart from themselves, something that is drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Dudley feels a horrible jolt of dread as he stands trembling in the freezing air.
"W-what are you g-g-going to do?"
Harry motions with his hand for him to stay quiet. "Whatever you do, keep your mouth shut!"
Then it happens a towering, hooded figure glides smoothly towards them, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it comes. Comes to him! Dudley take terrified steps backwards, stumbling and falling flat on his bum. He tries to desperately crawl away, Dudly clamps his meaty hands over his face. Not daring to look, he's too scared!
Stumbling forward, Harry raises his wand.
"Expecto patronum!"
An enormous silver-blue wolf erupts from the tip of Harry's wand; it's jaw catch the Dementor in front of him in the place where the heart should be; it's thrown backwards, weightless as darkness, and as the wolf charges, the Dementor swoops away, bat-like and defeated.
"THIS WAY!" Harry shouts at the stag. Wheeling around, he sprints toward his cousin's cowering form. "DUDLEY? DUDLEY!"
The second Dementor is crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prising them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head towards Dudley's face as though about to kiss him....
Harry suddenly sees red, he doesn't know why he suddenly feels so protective of Dudley, perhaps because of his parental senses? Harry can't help but see his children in Dudley's cowering form; little Albus and James.
"Lupus! Take care of that pestilence!" Harry bellows, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver wolf he comes rushing past him. The Dementor's eyeless face is barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver canines catch it; the thing is thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soars away and is absorbed into the darkness; the wolf walks to the end of the alleyway and dissolves into silver mist.
Moon, stars and streetlamps burst back into life. A warm breeze sweeps the alleyway. Trees rustle in neighbouring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent fill the air again.
Dudley lays curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bends down to see whether he is in a fit state to stand up. He softly places a hand to the blond's face. "Hey, it's over. You're safe, Dudley." The boy shakes and without thinking, throws himself at the brunette. Harry grunts at the sudden added weight but relaxes soon after.
"Mrs Digg is about to come 'round soon. Do you think you can stand?"
Dudley shakily nods, still clinging onto Harry, then they hear loud, running footsteps behind them. Instinctively Harry turns rigid and spins around to face the newcomer.
Mrs Figg, their batty old neighbour, comes panting into sight. Her grizzled grey hair is escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag is swinging from her wrist and her feet are halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers.
Harry stares at her with a glare, "What was the ministry thinking?! Those Dementors could have killed someone! Tell Mindungus Fletcher that I'm expecting an explanation." Harry stares the older woman down then he smirks. "I know that you're a squib, Mrs Figg. I have known for a while now."
He relished in her stunned expression and lays his magic calmingly around the boy still in his arms.