"Birds sing for you
You can make the blue sky blush.
You've got them all fooled
But I am burned out on this rush.
I wanna change my orbit,
Don't care what you do now.
I wanna live in darkness,
Don't wanna be spun around."
-Sun Of A Gun (Oh Land)
Dudley arrived at work a full thirty minutes late in yesterday’s clothes with his tie askew, muttering to himself as he dropped a bulging suitcase into his office and rushed to make himself a coffee. The effect on the rest of the employees was palpable. An uneasy silence settled among them as the newly appointed junior merchandise executive drained his coffee cup in one, settled into his desk, and through a gap in the doorway was seen to actually remove his shoes.
Dudley groaned, massaging his callused feet, quite unaware that he had such an attentive audience. He had walked all the way from the Leaky Cauldron to the Grunnings building, and thought he heartily deserved a few moments’ rest.
Alas, not ten seconds had passed when the shrill ringing of his phone assaulted his ears.
–Yes?†Dudley answered wearily.
–Mr. Dursley, your fath- the president would like to see you upstairs,†his secretary squealed, clearly aware of the severity of her announcement.
–Great,†Dudley grumbled. –Thanks. Tell him I’ll be right up.â€
Dudley hastened to put his shoes back on and to bustle out to the hallway, where twenty pairs of eyes looked away innocently and feigned disinterest. Only one pair remained fixed on him: Jenkins was staring at Dudley with a vile smugness that made the latter want to punch his lights out. If the talking mirror could only have seen Jenkins, Dudley reflected, it would have told him what was what.
Up the elevator all the way to the top floor Dudley attempted in vain to straighten his tie and smooth down his hair, until he found himself before a large oak door bearing a gold plaque that read Vernon Dursley, Acting President, C.E.O. Well, if Dudley could face a pub full of wizards, he could certainly face a telling off from his father. His breathing a little shallow, he raised his fist and knocked.
–Come in,†called Vernon’s voice, surprisingly calm.
Dudley entered the office he had always found a little austere, if handsome, looking anywhere but at his father. As a show of contrition, he sat himself in the most uncomfortable, straight-backed chair he could find, and waited for the barrage to begin.
–Look up, boy,†Vernon instructed. When Dudley obliged him with a sigh, he went on, –I received an alarming message from someone on your floor today, Dudley. All kinds of claims. Said you’ve been frequently late, erratic, your work not up to par.â€
Jenkins, Dudley thought darkly.
–Do you have anything to say?†Vernon asked.
–I apologize, I feel terrible, it won’t ever happen again,†Dudley reeled off, waving his hand through the air in a circular motion to indicate that this was a fairly obvious response.
Vernon placed both of his hands on the desk and leaned across it to look directly into Dudley’s eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was unusually gentle.
–Son, I can’t wrap my head around what’s going on with you. You storm out last night, you leave us to deal with some... some freak of a woman. No calls, nothing. This isn’t like you.â€
Dudley mumbled something unintelligible, and Vernon made a noise of impatience.
–I said,†Dudley repeated, his heart racing, –you don’t really know what I’m like.â€
Vernon’s eyes bulged out of his head in an almost comical expression of rage, and Dudley counted to five in his head. When he was finished, right on schedule, that good old pulsing vein had popped up on his father’s forehead.
–I’m sorry, but it’s true. I’m not eleven anymore, dad. You can’t... distract me with shiny toys.†Dudley sat back, rather pleased with his clever analogy, and so missed the look of utter incomprehension on his father’s face. The tension in the room was mounting higher, ever higher, until-
–Get out,†Vernon snapped. –Now, get out now. Did you hear me? OUT!â€
Dudley shrugged, rose, and made his way to the door, filled with a sense of regret that was difficult to place. He had really tried, this time, to put what was wrong with him into words.
–You’re on thin ice,†Vernon told him before he could leave. –I don’t want to see you back up here. Don’t give me a reason to sack you.â€
Dudley closed the door without turning around. His hands were shaking, whether with fury or disappointment he could not tell. After stepping into the elevator and returning to his floor, he found himself surrounded by narrowed, judging eyes once more.
–I know my personal life must be fascinating to you all,†Dudley announced in a carrying voice, –but don’t you have something better to do?â€
Amidst a torrent of muttering they returned to work, throwing him sidelong glances every few seconds. All except for bloody Jenkins.
–There’s a visitor for you, Dursley,†he called in his insufferable smug voice. –I told her to wait in your office.â€
Her. Dudley had an unpleasant feeling he knew who the visitor might be. And sure enough, upon entering his office, he was greeted by the sight of an unmistakably witch-like woman in an acid green suit and horn-rimmed glasses, rifling through the files in his desk.
–Rita Skeeter,†the woman introduced herself, holding out a perfectly manicured hand.
Dudley sighed. –Yes, I thought you might be.â€
The woman’s face broke into a wide, predatory grin, revealing several gold teeth. –I think you’ll want to come along with me,†she said, in a tone that left no room for argument.
Dudley’s mind leapt to the folded up newspaper in his suitcase, and he did some quick thinking. It made him feel almost lightheaded, yet he came out with a plan.
–Your letter said that you work for the Daily Prophet,†he said.
Rita Skeeter nodded.
–And is that where we’ll be going now?â€
Another nod, this time rather impatient.
Dudley grinned and walked over to the window to close the blinds. –And can you use your magic wand thingy to make it so that after we leave no one will be able to open the door to this room? Not even someone with a key? I don’t want to be caught skipping out again.â€
–You catch on fast!†Rita Skeeter exclaimed, trailing a finger over his shoulder in an appraising sort of way. –Of course I can, darling.â€
She pulled a wand much like Parvati’s from her pocket, and for a moment Dudley flinched, expecting to see flames shoot from its tip. Instead she simply flicked it in the direction of the door, her gold teeth glinting as she whispered some nonsense words, and Dudley heard the lock give a series of odd, resounding clicks.
Unbelievable.
Then he realized that they were locked in.
–Hang on,†Dudley said. –How are we getting to your Daily Prophet, then?â€
Rita Skeeter raised one perfectly drawn eyebrow and extended her arm in Dudley’s direction.
–Take my hand, darling, and all shall be explained,†she said mysteriously.
Dudley was not at all sure that he trusted this shark-like woman with the gold teeth who had stalked his family, but he was in too deep already. There was no going back. He reached out and took her hand.
–AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHH!â€
Ten seconds later found Dudley on his hands and knees on a cold stone floor, screaming and retching and unable to catch his breath. The sensation of being squeezed into an impossibly tight rubber tube had hit him the moment he had taken that madwoman’s hand, and he had been certain that he was about to die. He had experienced this horrific feeling once before when he had been forced to go into hiding, but had forgotten the true magnitude of it. What had he been thinking, trusting Rita Skeeter? She was clearly some kind of sadistic, dark enchantress.
Dudley rolled onto his back and felt his arms and sides for broken bones. As he slowly began to catch his breath and regain feeling in his fingers, Dudley came to realize that, incredibly, all his limbs were intact. He had been convinced that his entire body had turned to goo.
Opening his eyes with great difficulty, Dudley spotted Rita Skeeter standing nearby, having a hushed conversation with a short man toting an antique camera.
–... don’t know why you’re making such a fuss, Gonzo,†she was saying dismissively.
–Apparating with a Muggle, Rita! I’ve never heard of such reckless-â€
–He’s cousin to Harry Potter, Gonzo, try to keep up. Besides, absolutely no one saw us. And if we can get the scoop from him now we can get an extension on our deadline and include the extra material in the book.â€
Dudley coughed pointedly to announce his presence and Rita Skeeter threw her hands into the air in delight.
–Dudley, you’re still with us!†she exclaimed. –Excellent. Right this way, if you please.â€
Dudley stood, half expecting his legs to give way beneath him, and allowed himself to be led through a drab vestibule into a small, bustling office. The low-hanging ceiling and wood-paneled walls gave the place a slightly claustrophobic aura, yet a few roaring fireplaces made it warm and inviting. A dozen desks lined the far wall, each with quills dashing magically across stacks of notes. And there, standing in the far corner sorting through bright green and purple folders, was the one he really wanted to see.
–Will you just wait here a tick while I run and get my quick quotes quill, Dudley?†asked Rita Skeeter.
He nodded absently, already steeling himself for what was to be done. With one last deep breath Dudley strode into the corner towards Parvati, cleared his throat, and extended his hand.
–Hello,†he said simply. –I’m Dudley Dursley.â€
Parvati looked up and her eyes widened, though Dudley was pleased to see that her surprise appeared marred with genuine happiness. She shook his hand, her mouth working silently over words she was apparently unable to form, and he smiled.
–Parvati Patil,†she said at last, a small blush creeping up her neck.
–That’s a lovely name,†Dudley commented, and Parvati let out a small giggle. Safe in the knowledge that, incredibly, unbelievably, she still liked him, Dudley felt his courage grow.
–It’s nice to, er... meet you,†Parvati went on. –What are you doing here, Dudley?â€
–I’m to give an interview about my cousin, Harry Potter. Apparently he’s quite famous. But talking to you looked like much more fun. Can I tell you a secret, Parvati?†He leaned in conspiratorially. –I’m a Muggle.â€
Parvati looked at him strangely. –You know about Muggles, do you?â€
–Only a little,†Dudley replied, shrugging. –Supposedly it means I can’t do magic. But I still managed to get all the way here from my work in a snap when Rita Skeeter and I Appa-Apparitioned... Appa-â€
–Apparated,†Parvati corrected, grinning. Then her smile faltered. –She Apparated with a Muggle in side-along? She really oughtn’t have done that, you must have been terrified! That Rita Skeeter has been getting dangerously overconfident since her biography of Dumbledore-er, her last book, you know.â€
Dudley nodded, striving to look serious and pensive. He was pleased, and more than a little surprised, that his plan appeared to be working so well. Something about the casually haphazard way in which wizards and witches went about their daily lives had emboldened him, and he felt as though he could do anything, anything at all.
–Not much I can do to help you with that, though, I’m afraid,†Parvati continued, and Dudley’s spirits fell a little. –I’ve just started here. I quit my old job yesterday and they took me on as a junior correspondent, which really means I’m to fetch Rita Skeeter’s notes for her, and all her ornamental handbags and glasses, and her coffee. Did you know she takes it with a bit of Firewhiskey slipped in?â€
Dudley laughed, and it was a real laugh that echoed up through his chest, making him feel as though crushing weights he had not even known existed were being lifted from his shoulders. Talking to Parvati was easy, and he desired nothing more than to continue chatting with her and forget his troubles.
Unfortunately, it was at this very moment that Rita Skeeter returned with a pointed, vicious looking quill in hand.
–Come along then,†she called, gesturing to a separate room, which Dudley could not help but notice had exactly zero windows.
–Hang on,†he said, turning back to Parvati. –What time do you get off? Would you like to have dinner with me after?â€
Parvati looked stunned by his directness, but she quickly agreed, and her smile was like a protective balm which followed him all the way into Rita Skeeter’s interrogation chamber, guarding him against her acid-colored quill, which was twitching through the air in anticipation.
–Now, Dudley,†Rita Skeeter began, settling herself at a small desk in front of him and grinning a Chesire cat’s grin. –Why don’t we begin with something simple? What can you tell me about Harry Potter’s attitude as a boy? What was it like growing up with a wizard in the house?â€
Dudley thought about Rita Skeeter’s letter, the one in which she had casually threatened to expose his secrets to Parvati if he did not cooperate. He thought of Parvati standing outside, waiting to go to dinner with him. He thought of Hermione’s warning that Rita would not be satisfied until he provided her with plenty of horrible scoop on his cousin. Could he really betray Harry to keep Parvati in the dark? Well, Dudley told himself resolutely, perhaps if he was clever enough he would not have to. Perhaps if he gave Rita Skeeter anecdotes that were interesting enough he would not need to reveal the more horrible, intimate details of Harry’s life, like the fact that his parents were dead.
–Harry was always different,†Dudley began. –I don’t think I understood it back then, but maybe I was always a little jealous of him. I remember once when we went to the reptile house I found out he could talk to snakes. He set a python on the whole zoo, and I was trapped inside its cage. Living with Harry was never boring.â€
Rita Skeeter’s eyes were big as saucers, and her quill was racing against a hovering notepad so fast it was practically a blur. There, Dudley thought with satisfaction. It would all work out.
The Phoenix Or The Flame by GinnyRULES
Chapter Notes: I know I made you guys wait too long for an update again. I'm the worst. The worst part is this chapter was complete two weeks ago but I got carried away spontaneous road-tripping and couldn't upload it. Anyway, ok, I've had this idea for a Dementor-centric fic which I think could be hilarious and awesome. What do you guys think? Yes, for real.