#Harry copies almost everyhting Dudley does

[hpdabbles]

Kindness and Remorse Part 3

“Have a good first day of school darling!”  Petunia calls once more from the doorway. She dapped her eye with a handkerchief, but she was beaming at him none the less. Around her various adults were doing the same, waving and smiling at the classroom of little people.

She’s one of the few who can get away quickly. One little boy was crying and holding onto his mother's leg with dear life, another little girl demanded her father to sit at the small tables and refuse to allow him to get up.   

If Dudley wasn’t an adult trapped in a human body he’s pretty sure he be one of the wailing ones too. 

“Bye-bye Mommy.” He calls back waving the hand that wasn’t holding Harry’s in a death grip. He didn’t want the boy to wander off, seeing as his little cousin had the curiosity of monkey and tended sniff out trouble if left alone for too long.

Just the other day Dudley had seen him walk into the street after seeing a stray dog he just had to pet. Thankfully there hadn’t been any traffic and he was able to successfully get him back into the front yard without a trip to the hospital. 

Since they had turned four just a few months ago, both were officially starting schooling. Harry had been a little nervous but seem to be happy he would be staying with Dudley. He hadn’t gotten fussy, but Dudley did see his lower lip quiver when Petunia started for the door.

“I love you!” Petunia’s voice shook a little as she presses her hand on her chest dramatically, as if though he was going off to war. His mother was reacting to him not being around the house all day rather hard it seems.  

“I love you too,” He says not nearly as dramatic but just as genuine. It hurts to still love them after everything he’s been though but he can’t help it. He loves his parents, had when he cut them out of his life and he thinks he’ll still love them till the day he died.

But loving someone doesn’t mean you are willing to forgive them.

Petunia’s whole face soften, glowing in warmth. “Listen to your teacher, behave and I’ll pick up later alright pumpkin? Once you get out, we can go get ice cream!”

“We really getting ice-cream, Aunt Petunia?” Harry cuts in, excited at the idea of a frozen treat. At once his mother’s face tenses but with the crowd around she doesn’t yell at him. She can’t even sneer since it will ruin the kind heart image she been building up.

She waves at her son as if though her nephew hadn’t spoken before turning on her heels and walking away. 

Dudley is quick to reassure Harry before his face could do so much as fall. Swinging their linked hands he leads his cousin to one of the empty round blue tables. “Did you hear Harry? Mommy said we can have ice cream!”

“Ice-cream!” Harry cheers. The little boys take a sit just as the teacher rushes over to give them each a long piece of paper and a bucket of crayons. She’s got warm light brown curls that end just around her shoulder with equally brown eyes. 

Dudley stares at her, usually not one to take notice of someone’s looks, but she bares a heartbreaking resemblance to Tiffiny at first glance. She’s got the same shape of lips, but they are a bright red, something that snaps him out of his daze.

His wife was many things, but a wearer of bright lipstick wasn’t one of them. Looking away, he rubs at his chest willing it to stop aching. It’s been four years now (counting the one year he spent with Harry’s house in the future) but he still feels her absence every once in and a while. 

“Hello, boys. I’m Ms.Williams and I’ll be your teacher this year.” Ms. Williams says. “We’re going to start the year off by drawing our houses. All the people and pets that live there too. Can you two do that for me?”

“Uh-huh!” Harry bounces in his chair. Picking up one of the blue crayons he quirks a shy smile upwards to the teacher “Me and Dudley color all the time Ms. Williams.”

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Potter. While you two draw, we’re going to wait for more boys and girls and then we’re all going to show each other our drawings”  Ms. Williams says reading the name tag on Harry’s uniform. Dudley had pinned it to his shirt after neither of his parents attempted to do so.  

It’s a good thing he did, he had a faint memory that Harry was always getting in trouble with losing his name tag in primary school. He’ll have to keep an eye on the pesky thing. It wouldn’t due for Harry to develop a habit of misplacing his things. 

Harry is quick to start filling up his paper with lines of various colors. He’s got the basic shape of a square done, even if it is lopsided and he is happy to add a triangle. He bites down on his lower lip just slightly- a sign that Harry was in deep concentration.

Dudley watches him work for a moment before turning to his own paper. 

Over the last two years, he’s been able to successfully turn his cousin’s attention to the way of drawings and doodles. Harry still had a blast when playing with his toys, but he seems to be extra excited that Dudley decorated his room’s walls with his pictures. 

Sure, they were just random squiggles with lines all over them and quite frankly didn’t resemble much of anything, but they were made with lots of love. His parents weren’t going to praise Harry for his art, nor would they ever hang on the fridge like Dudley’s but the pieces of random color swirls were appreciated by someone. 

Petunia and Vernon didn’t quite like it. Often times they would tear down the papers. It didn’t matter since Harry was always quick to replace them with new pieces. Dudley lies about storing them somewhere in the attic for the future since he loved them so much to not hurt Harry’s feelings.

At age four, Harry’s drawing abilities while not wonderful works of art were pretty advanced for his age and if his skill was cultivated more, Dudley had no doubt he quite gifted.  Not that he wants to force Harry into any field but a slight nudge here or there wouldn’t do no harm. 

Josh Sr. did say drawing could be a good coping mechanism once when Dudley was still just beginning to date his daughter. He’s not overly sure if it can do anything for Harry but giving the boy some mind health tools now would do him some good in the long run.

He hopes. 

“What wrong Dudley?” Harry asks while gesturing at his blank paper. “You not having fun?”

Smiling at his cousin Dudley picks up the black crayon   “Nothing wrong Harry. I’m just thinking.” 

“What about?”

“How to draw mommy.”  

“I can show you!” The little boy pushes his paper over allowing the time traveler to get a glance at his work. So far he’s gotten the house done, and three figures floating above a green line- the lawn maybe?- that could be humans. 

Dudley inwardly frowns that only one of the figures has a smile. The smallest one, with bright yellow hair. 

“Wow, Harry you did a good job!” He gushes dramatically. It takes all his will power not to baby-talk, but he manages. Tapping his finger against the smiling figure he asks “Is that me?”

“Thank you, Dudley,”  Harry smiles bashfully, a please blush on his face. “Uh-huh, that’s you. This is Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.”

The child’s finger points at a large circle with a mustache, then a talk nearly stick figure, holding a purse. Both have large frowns and angry slanted eyebrows. More worrying, however, is upon closer examination he can’t spot Harry. 

“Where are you?”

“Huh?”

“Where are you in the picture? Or are you not done?” 

“Silly I’m where I’m supposed to be.”  Harry points to the house window, where a little figure with wild black lines at its head has been added, half-hidden behind the-um curtains?. The figure is smiling at least.  

It doesn’t stop his stomach from turning over.  Despite how hard he’s tried to make things better seems Harry is still being affected by his monster of guardians. 

Of course, he is, you dumb oaf. A nasty voice snickers mockingly in his head. It sounds awful like his father. Kids repeat what they hear. Kids draw what they feel.

Inhaling deeply, while mentally counting backward from ten, Dudley manages a smile at his cousin. It hurts somewhere deep inside that Harry thinks this is normal or that maybe, for the first time around, the drawing of the first day of school was the exact smile with the slight change that only drawing-Harry was smiling. “ It looks nice.” 

Harry beams back at him. He then launches into his explanation of how to draw Petunia. Dudley listens to every word, making the appropriate sounds to prove he’s is, but remains mostly silent. 

“You want to add more to your picture Harry?”

“Yeah, the flowers Aunt Petunia had me put in the garden.”

A strain grin.  “Put them in then.”

“Okay, Dudley.”

Later, the class presents their drawings. Harry’s is one of the best ones, he notes with a smile. Dudley holds a crudely drawn house with only two figures on the outside of it. Both with large smiles, holding hands.  One of the figures has a lighting mark above it’s dotted eyes.

Harry loves it. 

The rest of the day passes in a slow blur of singing kid songs, drawing pictures and little kid’s laughter. The rules are explained to them all, the kids eager to either do as they told right away or run about without a care in the world. About twenty kids are ranging from the ages of four and five. All of them were allowed to pick different colored tables with no more than six. 

There is chatter, squealing and giggles all throughout the day, some kids choose to scream their thoughts instead of talking. Ms. Williams is quick to remind everyone what an inside voice is.

Dudley is honestly surprised Ms. Williams can keep up with them all and not drop from exhaustion. He’s all for nap time, the moment it arrives, and he’s not even in charge.

Dudley didn’t really approach the other kids in the classroom but he did respond if any of them talk to him. Preferring to stay in the background he watches them go about their lives contently. Harry, on the other hand, had been invited to a playground game of kickball and had struck up a friendship with Piers Polkiss, the two almost attached at the hip afterward. 

Piers had even moved over to their little blue table away from the overflowing green table just to keep talking to Harry. Apparently, the two enjoy coloring just as much and this meant they were now best friends.

Funny how life works sometimes. 

Petunia had kept her word taking the boys to get ice-cream after picking them up. She nearly didn’t buy Harry a cone, but Dudley started to cause a scene in the ice-cream polar, and she was finally forced to give in. 

Not wanting her to do something like forcing Harry to throw his cone out the car window, Dudley had requested they stay to eat in the booths so he could show off all his drawings. Vernon wasn’t to be home for another three hours, and Petunia could get dinner done by then, meaning she didn’t see the trouble of staying.

The family got home and Petunia was quick to order Harry into the kitchen. “Come, freak. Dinner needs to be done. Get in here to cook. Now.”

Dudley's face darkens but he followed after them silently. He’s forgotten that his mother had started her ridiculous chore list around the time Harry was four. He never really thought about how awful that truly was until he had grown. It was sickening she expected Harry to be anywhere near the stove as a four-year-old, never mind the forced labor he had to do the following years.

Well, she’s not going to get away with it this time. Not while he was around. 

Harry had been forced to work in the garden most of yesterday afternoon with his mother giving sharp instructions. Against his best efforts, it seems he couldn’t spare Harry of his chores. Not while his mother lived with the jealousy and rotting ideas of normal.

He knew this was a problem he couldn’t just scream at until it went away. Resistances in some cases just weren’t the answer. Much like swimming against the rip currents, he needs to find a way around the problem.

It took him all of last night and today to think about it but Dudley may have figured something out.  

“ We’re making dinner Mommy?” He asks following the pair. Petunia turns around with a warm smile.

“Oh, not you darling. Why don’t you go watch the telly while we work?”

“But I don’t want to.”

“Popkins, please-”

“I want to cook.” He says stubbornly. He hugs his upper arms, in an ill imitation of crossing his arms. Its something he quite remembered Daisy doing at this age, where she just couldn’t get her arms to cross over her tiny chest and he uses it whenever he’s throwing a tantrum. “Why can Harry cook but not me? Do you love him more?”

Petunia splutters “Popkins of course not! I just don’t want you getting hurt, is all!”

Dudley hugged his arms harder, pouting up a storm. Harry was watching everything with wide eyes. He glances at Dudley’s poster before quickly coping it and turning to his mother with his own pout. 

Yes, Harry, join the resistance.

“Mommy I want to cook!” 

“Popkins, wouldn’t you rather-”

“I want to cook! I want to cook! I want to cook! I want to COOK!” He shouts the last word stomping one of his feet. He then starts huffing and puffing, right before letting out a loud and long scream. 

His tantrum on full force.

Petunia fretts in front of him.  This must be tough for her, seeing as she never had to choose between letting her son get his way over not putting a child in danger. 

Serves you right. He thinks viciously. Either she gives in and Dudley helps cook, which lessens the load on Harry or she doesn’t which makes Dudley upset that Harry is enjoying something he isn’t. This could lead to her not making Harry cook at all even.

“A-alright,” She says eventually.  “You can help. Just listen to everything I say alright?”

“Yes, mommy! Thank you, mommy!”

As Petunia chops the vegetables she has the boys mixing one bowl together, doing most of the work herself while explaining why she does what she does. In a rare moment of affection, she answers every question Harry has, even biting back a smile when the little boy claps his hands and tells her how smart she is.

It seems Harry really taken to the idea of being a little helper, and his mother loves positive attention. She preens under it, as she carefully crafts them up something to eat. 

At one point she even offers to teach the boys how to bake cookies this weekend, when she buys the groceries. Harry is beside himself. 

She then hands them both some vegetables to wash, which really she had already done so, and made various points to not going anywhere near the stove to Dudley. By proxy, Harry had received the same warning. 

Dudley watches the pair throughout the whole thing and wonders if his mother wasn’t a lost cause as he originally thought. She then tried to get Harry to wash the dishes, large cutting knives and all. He imminently stood beside his cousin at the sink fighting back the disappointment. 

Petunia just took one step forward and two steps back.

Sometimes the ones that hurt us the most are the ones who should love us the most. Tiffiny’s voice echos into his ears as he helps Harry dry the dishes. Petunia had taken to the actual washing once she realizes Dudley wasn’t going to let Harry touch the soapy water before him. You have to remind yourself not to let those people back in once you kick them out. It’ll only cause you more pain.

When Vernon got home that night, Dudley had planted himself next to Harry at the kitchen counter refusing to take a seat at the table until his cousin was allowed to. This was something that had become a tradition over the last two years and like the nights before Harry was eventually seating at dinner time. 

“How was school, Dudley?” Vernon asks his son halfway through the meatloaf and steam vegetables, Petunia had put together with their help.

“Fun! Harry and me, got to take naps and Harry made a friend!” He answers with fake excitement. Moving his green beans and baby carrots from his plate onto Harry’s, with a pointed look at how little he’s been serve- They are not starving him this time!- before he asks.  “What is his name again?”

“It’s Piers. He likes to draw too! He made this really big fire truck!” Harry chirps. He happily starts feasting upon the green beans, one of his favorites. He doesn’t speak with his mouth full since Petunia hates it- only when Harry does it apparently. Swallowing his food, the green eye boy is quick to describe his day. “Ms. Williams let us draw twice! We got to sing songs, and play kickball and-”

“I was asking Dudley.” Vernon cuts in a cold voice “Not you boy.”

“Let him finish Daddy,” Dudley says just a notch away from the stern, but only barely able to keep his disdain out of his tone. He pouts his lips and makes his eyes wide at his father. The man takes one look at him before grumbling into his meal.

“Fine. Keep going, boy.”

Harry hesitates for only a minute before he’s back into talking about his new best friend. Dudley makes sure to respond, and for a while, it’s only the kids speaking. He starts to talk about his day, his parents now joining the conversation.

Towards the end of the dinner, Dudley launches into his other plan of attack. Without changing his outer behavior he casually slips in “I told Ms. Williams Harry sleeps in the cupboard sometimes and she made a funny face.”

Both adults freeze.  Acting like he doesn’t notice, Dudley and his cousin share a laugh. “She’s so silly to not know you can sleep under the stairways right Harry?”

“Uh-huh. Ms. Williams kept asking me funny questions too.”

“Questions?” Petunia chokes. “What kind of questions?”

“She asked if you hit me, isn’t she is funny? She didn’t even believe Dudley when he said where my room was until we showed her the pictures.”

“Pictures!? What pictures!?” Vernon demands jumping up.

“From my camera Daddy,” Dudley says unable to hide his wide grin. His parents had given him an old polaroid a few months ago. Dudley had made an effort to be seen taking pictures all around the house, using Harry as a model, as to not raise suspicion when he took pictures of Harry’s room. 

No one had known what went on in at 4 Privet Drive which is why they were able to get away with most of their abuse on Harry but Dudley remembered how quick his parents were to make things look better the day they thought someone was watching Harry.

True, it had been someone magical,  but the point still stands that it was the sense of thinking no one cared enough to look let them act as they wished.

They could do nothing now that another adult had evidence. 

“She really liked them! She said I took the best pictures ever mommy!”

“Popkins, where are these pictures of Harry’s room?”  Petunia asks, her face pale like milk. 

“Ms. Williams has them.”

The adults trade some looks before they have them go up to Dudley’s room. Later that same night, they sit the boys down to explain that Harry’s room is no longer going to be under the stairway. He will now be living in the extra bedroom they kept Dudley's toys. 

He would be sleeping with his cousin tonight and while his mother tucked him in, and by extension Harry, Petunia took much a very long time to explain that Harry’s old room wasn’t a bedroom but a playhouse. 

If Ms. Williams asks again they were to tell her that’s where they played make belief but it was considered Harry’s since he was the one that found it. Dudley seeing his chance asked if they could have a treehouse or a playhouse in the yard as a secret base for more make-belief games. 

Petunia's whole face brightens as if an idea struck.  “Why we could get you both a playhouse couldn’t we? Harry’s old room was just a practice one until your Daddy made enough money to get you these ones. Tomorrow, we’ll all go to the store and pick something out.”

“Wow! We’re going to have a secret base!” Dudley says to Harry who is laying next to him. His cousin is all but vibrating in child adrenalin ecstasy, his hands gripping his half of the blanket tightly. “Wait till we tell Ms. Williams!” 

“Oh, I bet your teacher would just love to hear all about your secret bases boys. Maybe sure to let her know. Both of you.”  Petunia orders as she flickers out the lights. The room is bathed in the soft brightness of his night light, the color-changing built making the stares that it shoots extra lovely. “Goodnight Popkins. Sleep tight. Mommy loves you.”

“Night Mommy, I love you too.” 

Once she leaves, closing the door behind her, Dudley turns to Harry, tucking him in a bit better and whispers  “Goodnight Harry. I love you.”

“Night Dudley. I love you too” 

There is a moment of quiet before Harry whispers “I got a room now like you.”

Dudley can’t help the rush of triumph sing through his body. Yes he doubts this will last, and there is still much more to do to make sure Harry has a happier life but this is his first real sign of progress. His first two real victories in a roundabout way. “Yeah, you do.”

“This is the best day ever!” Harry whisper-shouts. 

“It really is.” 

A rush of warmth surrounds the boys as they drift off to sleep, Harry pressing his face into his cousin’s hair while Dudley had an arm secured around him in a hug. Neither realizing the warmth was unnaturally comforting or the slight silver shine of the air surrounding the bed, blessing their dreams with happiness.