“That’s where the experiment comes in,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “Why don’t you try giving it a wave?”
“Mrs. Longbottom, I don’t know what you think is going to happen,” said Dudley hesitantly. “The wand’s not going to work for me.”
“Just wave it,” she said sternly.
Dudley took the wand from the box Mrs. Longbottom was holding out to him, delicately holding the stem, hoping he was facing it the correct direction. He mimicked the swishing motion he’d seen Dedalus use in spells, rather than the aggressive slash that Hestia tended to.
He wasn’t surprised when nothing happened.
Mrs. Longbottom looked disappointed, but she said, “You have to feel it!”
“Feel what?” asked Dudley. “I’m a Muggle. What am I supposed to feel? This is nothing more than a twig when I’m holding it.”
“But you’re not a Muggle,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “You couldn’t be.”
“Of course he’s a Muggle,” said Petunia, but without the haughty tone she would have used several months earlier. “He never displayed any of the signs when he was a boy.”
“Maybe they were subtle,” offered Mrs. Longbottom. “Maybe you just missed them. We didn’t see any signs from Neville until he was almost old enough to go to Hogwarts; we were sure he was a Squib.”
“I was watching for the signs,” Petunia argued. “I saw it happening to my sister when we were kids, and then I saw Harry go through it as well. I was terrified Dudley would turn out to be a wizard.”
“Well, signs or not, he’s a wizard,” said Mrs. Longbottom. “I suspected it since the day you came here and the house sealed before Dedalus had gone inside. Then the wizard’s chess game and St. Mungo’s proved it.”
“How did they prove that?” asked Dudley.
“But”that, that just doesn’t make sense,” said Petunia. “I would have known!”
“I thought my Neville was a squib for the longest time,” challenged Mrs. Longbottom. “He didn’t show signs for years after most wizards do.”
“What’s a squib?” asked Dudley.
“Someone wizard-born with no powers,” she said. “Dudley is a wizard, whether you like it or not!”
“But he waved the wand and nothing happened.”
Mrs. Longbottom turned to Dudley. “Dudley, do you believe that you are a wizard?”
Dudley didn’t know how to respond. Too much information was coming at him too quickly, and he stared blankly at Mrs. Longbottom for a moment. He was faintly aware that his mother was nosily peering over Mrs. Longbottom’s giant moth-eaten hat but he was too afraid to look her in the eyes.
“I”I don’t know what to think,” said Dudley. “It’s just out of nowhere.”
“Would you try trusting it for a moment?” asked Mrs. Longbottom, in a caring tone he’d never seen and which was slightly unnerving coming from her. “Just believe in it.”
Dudley looked down at the thin piece of wood in his right hand and imagined for a moment that he could use it, performing all of the amazing spells he’d seen from Hestia, Dedalus, and Dean, fighting death eaters, Apparating to new places, and even simply for household chores. He thought back to Harry, using it against the dementors that night that seemed so long ago. He’d never considered that he may one day do those things as well.
The wand twitched slightly”so slightly that only Dudley noticed”between his fingers as if yearning, after years of being stowed away in a trunk, to show what it could do. Dudley took a deep breath and twisted his wrist in a circle, putting all of his heart into the wish that Mrs. Longbottom, crazy as she seemed, might actually be right.
Dudley felt a tingling surge of power travel through his right arm and throughout his body, then back out through the wand, as sparks flew out of the tip like miniature fireworks. He couldn’t tell whether he was smiling broadly or his jaw was hanging open in shock, because he felt like he should be doing both simultaneously.
Mrs. Longbottom stuck her chin out proudly and gloated, “I knew it.”
“But how”?” asked Dudley, still perplexed.
“Magic is known to act in strange ways,” she said. “You’ll soon begin to realize that.”
Dudley looked behind Mrs. Longbottom to his mother, who had her hands clasped over her mouth and tears in her eyes. The smile disappeared from his face and he looked at the floor, ashamed.
“Mum, I’m sorry,” he said.
Mrs. Longbottom turned around and, noticing Petunia’s expression, stiffened her back angrily. “Dudley, your magic is a wonderful thing,” she said sternly. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“What are you apologizing for?” asked Petunia, ignoring Mrs. Longbottom.
“For disappointing you,” he said. “I know you must hate that your son is a wizard.”
“Oh, Dudders, I’m not disappointed in you,” said Petunia, moving to sit beside him. “I think this is incredible!”
“But you hate magic,” Dudley argued.
“No, I was jealous because I didn’t have it,” said Petunia. “I let that jealousy consume me for so long that it became hate, in a way, but I’ve realized over the past few months how untrue that is.”
“Really?” asked Dudley. He knew his mum wanted to be a witch when she was a child, but he thought that had changed.
“Really,” she said firmly. “Dudley, I’m happy for you. And even though I wasn’t a witch, I’m proud that I was given some trace of magic to pass onto you.”
“Thanks, mum.”
Petunia gave Dudley a hug and Dudley could feel the wetness on his back from her tears. “Mum, don’t cry””
Dean came out of the kitchen door with a sandwich and glass of milk. “Mrs. Longbottom, you’re back,” he said. “Did everything go well?”
“Yes, Frank and Alice are all set in the Salem Hospital.”
Dean sat on the couch, taking a big bite of his sandwich and nodding his approval. He looked over at Dudley and said, “Why duh ya harve a rand, Doodley?”
Dudley furrowed his eyebrows, having caught none of what Dean said through his full mouth. Dean pointed at the wand, and Dudley realized. “Well, um,” Dudley avoided the question nervously. “Apparently, I’m a wizard.”
Dean swallowed his sandwich. “Yeah, right.”
“He is,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “Show him, Dudley.”
Dudley, feeling a little silly, waved the wand again to make little fireworks. Dean, who had just taken a gulp of milk, spit a stream of milk across the coffee table.
“No bloody way!” he exclaimed, jumping up and wiping the milk that was dribbling down his chin. “Sorry, Mrs. Longbottom, I’ll clean this up right away.” Dean rushed into the kitchen to find a rag, screaming up the stairs as he went, “Dudley’s a bloody wizard!” and again, when he walked into the kitchen, “Dedalus, Dudley’s a wizard!”
Dean came out with the rag, Dedalus right behind him, his top hat looking as if it was about to fall off because of all the excitement. Dean cleaned up the mess, practically jumping off the walls with excitement. “Show them, Dudley! Show them!”
Hestia had come downstairs, having heard the excitement, and cheered Dudley on enthusiastically as he made more fireworks, though he was beginning to feel like a circus act.
“Mrs. Longbottom,” Dudley said suddenly, “you never told me how you knew.”
“The first clue was when my spell on the house, to only let two wizards inside, was broken before Dedalus could get inside,” she said. “That could have been any of the three of you, though I counted your father out very quickly. I kept watching for clues, and then a few weeks ago you and Dean said you’d been playing Wizard’s Chess. But Wizard’s Chess is impossible for Muggles to play; the pieces won’t trust your directions. Then, when I saw you in St. Mungo’s, I knew for sure. St. Mungo’s has enchantments surrounding it which don’t allow Muggles to see it or walk into it. On the rare occasion when a Muggle needs to be brought in for treatment, the security team closes the Muggle street that is the entrance to St. Mungo’s and temporarily removes the enchantments. Though you never displayed any magical outbursts like children usually do, all the signs were there.”
“So why didn’t I show the signs when I was a kid?” asked Dudley. “And why didn’t I get a letter from Hogwarts like Harry?”
“I’ve never heard of someone to show their magic so late, Dudley, so I can only guess. But, after seeing the way your father acts about magic, I would assume that he suppressed the magic in you by being so against it. You were raised in a house where magic was not acceptable, and it affected you deeply enough to hold back that magic. But Dedalus and Hestia changed your opinion about it, and helped bring it out.”
Dedalus stood up straighter with a proud grin.
“But Harry grew up in the same house,” argued Dudley. “Why wasn’t his magic suppressed too?”
“From what I’ve heard from Neville,” Mrs. Longbottom said, “Harry never felt like he belonged with your family. He wanted something more and the magic presented itself as something that made him different from your family and eventually the thing that allowed him to leave your family when he went to Hogwarts. If anything, growing up in that environment only made the magic stronger.”
“Who’s wand is that?” Hestia asked.
“It was Alice’s.”
“Do you think it will work for him?” Hestia asked. “It hasn’t chosen him, and he hasn’t won it. It might not work right.”
“It’s the only one we have,” Mrs. Longbottom said. “Plus, wands work in strange ways sometimes. Neville helped save Alice from St. Mungo’s today, and this wand may know that.”
Dudley thought that over for a minute, trying to choose what question to ask, but was interrupted by Dean. “So what lesson would you like to start with?”
“What?”
“Well, you’re not just going to make sparks with your wand for the rest of your life,” said Dean. “You may have missed out on Hogwarts, but you’ve got us!”
“Oh!” said Dudley. “I don’t even know what lessons there are. I don’t know where to begin.”
“He should start with learning to cast a shield,” said Dean. “Then he can protect himself against death eaters until he learns to fight.”
“He won’t be able to perform a shield yet,” Hestia argued. “He has to learn the basics.”
“We could start with teaching him to turn needles into matchsticks,” suggested Dedalus.
“What good is that going to do him in a battle?” asked Hestia. “He needs to start with the basics of fighting, not the basics of transfiguration.”
“Transfiguration can be used in battle,” said Dedalus. “I once turned a death eater into a goat. Then he charged me so I turned him into a toad.”
“Sounds like you should have made him a toad in the first place,” Dean suggested.
“Transfiguration can be used in battle, but only when you are very advanced,” Hestia said. “We need to teach him the things that will benefit him the most in the least amount of time.”
“In my first year, the first thing we learned was levitation,” Dean said. “That’s a good way to start learning wand motions.”
“I agree,” said Hestia. “We need something light to practice with.”
“We used feathers,” said Dean.
“I’ve got one of those!” Mrs. Longbottom reached to her head and pulled a curly pink feather out of her monstrous hat and handed it to Dudley, who was feeling overwhelmed. He followed Hestia, Dedalus, and Dean into the dining room, where they decided they would hold his lessons.
It was already past midnight, but they jumped into the lesson enthusiastically. Dudley was excited but nervous, especially when he realized how much more difficult magic would be. It was not just a matter of pointing the wand and shouting something unintelligible.
“You’re not holding the wand right, that’s the problem.”
“No, he’s holding it fine, he just isn’t flicking it enough.”
“No, the swish is too broad; he needs to tighten it up.”
Dudley was getting input from Hestia, Dedalus, and Dean and couldn’t process all of the conflicting advice. The lesson was making him sleepy but the others only seemed more energized as the night went on.
“Emphasize the “gar” in Wingardium, then you’ll get it.”
“No, the Wingardium is fine, it’s Leviosa he needs to work on.”
“That’s not what I learned; I’ve been taught more recently so I should know the correct way.”
“No, we have more experience,” argued Hestia.
“No, I have the most experience!” said Dedalus. “I learned this before either of you were born.”
Dudley set the wand down and stretched his arm, which was cramping from being held up so long. He yawned widely as all three turned to stare at him.
“What?” he asked defensively. “I’m tired.”
“It is late,” Dedalus admitted.
“And today’s been very busy,” said Hestia. “Why don’t we pick this up after everyone’s gotten some sleep?”
Dudley plodded slowly up the three flights of stairs to the attic room he and Dean were sharing, wondering whether he might just fall asleep on the landing. He couldn’t believe that so much had happened in one day; that day alone had been more eventful than the busiest month of his life. He’d accidentally Apparated to St. Mungo’s, helped rescue Frank and Alice Longbottom, battled Death Eaters, been discovered by a Snatcher who was now held captive in the basement, spent hours telling his mum stories, and, on top of all that, discovered that he was a wizard.
He made it to his room and dropped immediately onto the cot; the bed was more comfortable, but the cot was closer to the door, and Dudley thought he would have been able to fall asleep anywhere tonight. He set his new wand on the floor beside the cot and fell asleep within the minute.
Dursleys, Meet The Wizarding World by Ghoul In Pajamas
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you for reading and commenting and emailing me! I love hearing what you have to say about each chapter! This is the chapter I've most been looking forward to since the beginning so I hope you enjoyed it! :)