Author's Notes
Thanks for my help from my betas, Amber0_o and ix3thehpseries!
As usual, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.
The Silver Lynx
The next few days were quiet at the apartment. The Dursleys had mostly kept their distance from their wizard hosts. Petunia had spent most of her time cleaning and the apartment was starting to look livable. Vernon was keeping a close watch on Dudley; since the trip to the store, Dudley couldn’t seem to get a moment by himself.
Friday evening, while looking for a snack, Vernon complained to Hestia that she didn’t get anything from the store he had wanted.
“You were right there! If you wanted something you could have gotten it.” Hestia rolled her eyes at Vernon before focusing again on her hand of exploding snap.
“You kept saying to stick to the list!”
“I said to make sure we got everything on the list. I didn’t say you couldn’t get anything else.”
“Yes you did! You said “!“ Vernon was cut off because, at this exact moment, Dedalus’ cards exploded in his face, making a large burn mark on Vernon’s shirt. “What the -? What the bloody hell was that?” Vernon shouted.
“Oh, forgive me. Exploding Snap,” Dedalus explained. “Normally a child’s game, but it’s a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine.”
“THIS IS A MAD HOUSE!” Vernon roared, as he stomped off to his room.
Dudley had been waiting patiently for a chance to talk to Dedalus and Hestia alone. With his mother cleaning in the living room, he saw his chance and took a seat by Dedalus at the kitchen table.
They seemed surprised by his presence; Hestia even raised an eyebrow at him.
“What are you playing?” asked Dudley politely.
“Exploding Snap. We can deal you in,” Dedalus offered cheerfully.
“Sure,” said Dudley, nervously eyeing Dedalus’ ashen face and charred eyebrows. Dudley caught on to the game quickly because it was similar to the Muggle game, Snap.
They played for some time in silence, except when the cards exploded. Dudley wanted to talk to them but every time he worked up the courage to mention Quidditch or the war, something made him close his mouth and return his eyes to his cards.
Finally, when the silence was unbearable he asked, “You say brooms can accelerate to 150 miles per hour in ten seconds?”
Dedalus chuckled. “And I thought no one was paying attention to my monologue the other day at lunch. The Firebolt can do naught to 150 in ten seconds.” At Dudley’s confused look, Dedalus clarified, “There are different models of broomsticks. The Firebolt is currently the best there is; they use it in the Quidditch World Cup.”
“Harry has a Firebolt,” Hestia remarked absently.
“Does Harry play Quidditch?” asked Dudley.
“Yes, I believe he plays seeker for noble Gryffindor!” said Dedalus.
“What’s Gryffindor?”
“It’s one of the houses at Hogwarts. There are also Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin,” said Hestia.
“Which house is the best?” asked Dudley.
“Gryffindor,” said Dedalus.
“Ravenclaw, of course,” said Hestia.
Dudley laughed and said, “I think I know which houses each of you were in.”
“Everyone thinks their own house is the best, but they’re really just different,” said Dedalus.
“But, really, Ravenclaw is the best,” said Hestia, smirking.
They were able to have a relaxed conversation after this. Hestia and Dedalus seemed content to reminisce about their days at Hogwarts. They compared the ways it had changed since each of them had gone to school and told stories about different classmates and teachers. Most notably, Dedalus told Hestia about her Transfiguration teacher, Minerva McGonagall, who had been a classmate of his.
Their depiction of Hogwarts only enhanced Dudley’s vision of the magical world being an incredible, surreal place. For the first time in his life, Dudley was jealous of Harry Potter, because he had something Dudley could never have.
Dudley told them about Muggle schools, though he had no idea how they could be even remotely interested in his, after hearing about what their school had been like.
After a half hour, Dudley and Dedalus’ cards had exploded in their faces numerous times, covering them with soot, while Hestia remained clean and the clear winner.
“Maybe we should stop now, before you two lose your eyebrows completely,” Hestia remarked sardonically.
Dudley got up from the table and went into the living room, where his mum was polishing the coffee table. “Hello, Mum.”
“Hello, Dudley,” she said stiffly.
Her less than polite greeting surprised him, but he shook it off as nerves; she had been cleaning non-stop for days. He sat down to watch television, eyeing his mother curiously.
After five minutes, Petunia finished polishing and Dudley propped his feet on the coffee table. She checked her list and immediately set out to do her next project: washing and sewing the curtains.
“Dudley, you should be starting the homework assignments your teachers gave you,” said Petunia. “How can you sit there and watch TV in French?”
“It’s still summer, mum!” Dudley complained, shocked. “Plus, I’m only watching cartoons; they make sense in any language.”
Petunia started taking the curtain off the hooks. “It would still do you well to get ahead this “ aaaahhhh!”
Dudley spun around to see his mother swatting at what looked like large furry flies. A dozen were flying around her head, getting into her hair, and pulling at her clothes. He was torn between helping his mother and running from the room, when Dedalus and Hestia burst into the room brandishing their wands.
“What’s wrong?”
“Doxies!” Dedalus shouted, as he took in the chaos that was unfolding in the living room.
“Get these off of me!” Petunia shrieked. She was dancing around the living room, waving her arms wildly at the aggressive beasts.
Dudley could only look on in shock and horror.
“I have some Doxycide in my room,” said Hestia, and she rushed out of the room, bumping into Vernon as he came from the opposite direction.
“What “ are these “ things?” Petunia shouted between her attempts to fight off the creatures, climbing over the couch as they pursued her.
“They’re doxies,” said Dedalus, as he ran over to help her. “They infest draperies and curtains, but they’re fairly easy to get rid of. Just be careful not to get bitten, because they’re poisonous.”
“Poisonous!” Petunia screamed, terror in her voice. “Dudders, go into your bedroom!”
Dedalus picked an old book off the shelf and began using it to ward off the doxies, knocking two unconscious. Meanwhile, a stray doxy wandered over to Vernon, who spent just as much effort fighting one doxy as Petunia and Dedalus did with many.
“Hestia, where’s that Doxycide?” Dedalus shouted.
“I can’t find it!” Hestia’s muffled voice sounded through the hall. “I know it’s here! I packed it because no one’s lived in this place for years.”
“Vernon, why aren’t you helping her look for it?” Petunia shrieked. “And Dudley, go to your room, NOW!”
Vernon trudged off to Hestia’s room and Dudley followed, resolving to help search for the Doxycide.
Hestia’s room was an utter disaster. Bureau dressers were thrown open, clothes were strewn across the floor, and books lay in heaps in the corners. Dudley wondered if all this mess had been made just now, or if it had been like this before. Hestia was running in every direction looking for the Doxycide, not noticing their presence.
“Er… Can we help look?” Dudley asked.
Hestia looked up at them blankly. “Just start looking “ it’s a large black spray bottle,” she said frantically.
Dudley felt awkward sifting through someone’s personal belongings “ especially a woman’s “ but he picked a drawer and started searching. His father wasn’t helping with the search, but was stumbling around the room avoiding the doxy that had taken a fancy to him. Dudley could still hear his mum’s shrieks and Dedalus’ encouragement from the other room. A couple minutes and three drawers later, Hestia exclaimed, “Oi! I’ve got it!” and raced out of the room.
Dudley followed her to find that she was fervently spraying the doxies that had been attacking Petunia and Dedalus while they covered their mouths with their shirts. The doxies fell to the ground, unconscious, as they were sprayed.
Vernon came plodding in behind Dudley, shouting, “Spray this one! Spray this one! For God’s sake, woman, spray this one!”
When Hestia had finished with the doxies attacking Petunia and Dedalus, she sprayed the one harassing Vernon. He fell back into the nearest armchair, weary from fighting off the doxy. Out of breath, he started mumbling, “You… wanted me to suffer. That’s why you sprayed my bug last.”
Hestia scoffed. “Your bug? Would you like to keep it for a pet?”
“Where did all those things come from?” Dudley asked.
Petunia, whose face was stark-white from her encounter, took a moment to compose herself. “The curtains. I was taking the curtains down and they flew out at me.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“They’ve probably infested every curtain in the house,” Hestia said.
Petunia gasped, and looked fearfully at the pile of unconscious doxies on the ground.
“But it’s not a bad infestation. If it were, we would have heard the curtains humming.”
“You brought us to an infested building!” Vernon was out of his chair and steaming. “It was bad enough when we showed up and the place was dusty and dirty, and with broken furniture, but this building should be condemned!”
“Oh, come off it. We just do a simple ““
“A bunch of poisonous bat-things with teeth just attacked my wife and I!” Vernon yelled.
“Doxies, actually,” Dedalus cut in, “fairy creatures. Do you know this bottle says it’s good for up to thirty de-doxyings? We only have nine curtains, so we’re set!”
“There was only one doxy bothering you!” Hestia shouted, ignoring Dedalus completely.
Vernon huffed and crossed his arms. “Who’s counting anyway? I’m talking about my family’s safety! We cannot live in a place like this! We’ll probably come down with some rare incurable disease next!”
“Do you think I’m used to living in these conditions? But this is the place the Order set up for us to stay, so this is what you’ll have to live with. Would you rather risk it with the Death Eaters?”
“Is that the teapot whistling? I think I might have finally figured out how to use that Muggle stove!” Dedalus exclaimed.
“I think these stories about the Death Eaters are a load of tosh! It sounds like a comic book story to me!”
A silver lynx leapt into the living room, surprising everyone and ending Vernon’s rant. He stumbled back a few steps to avoid its path. It opened its mouth wide and Kingsley’s low voice delivered the foreboding message, “The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”
A/N: If that message seems familiar, it’s because it’s the same one Kingsley sent to Bill and Fleur’s wedding. I hope I can update before the queue closes, but if not, Happy Holidays!