Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Now we get some alone time with Harry

Chapter IV: Privet Drive's Demons

After dinner, Dudley made ready to go out. Harry could hear his dimwit friends waiting at the edge of the driveway, guffawing about something. He rolled his eyes, and was about prepared to go back to his prison, when -

"Dudley, why don't you take Harry with you," Aunt Petunia said out of the blue.

Uncle Vernon nearly dropped the mug of tea he was holding. His moustache quivered. "No such thing will transpire in this house, Petunia! Have you lost your mind!"

She cowed under his fierce stare. "It will be good for the body, Vernon, learn to be normal like Duddeykins!"

Harry was amazed she stood her ground.

"Hmph!" Uncle Vernon grunted. "Watch him," he motioned to Dudley, instructing him as if he were to look after livestock.

"Don't worry, Dad, he isn't going to step out of line," Dudley cracked his fists.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Harry ventured.

"No," Uncle Vernon remained as stern as ever. "Go."

If Harry was glad for one thing, it was that he carried his wand everywhere with him - and discreetly so. He did not mind risking expulsion if the opportunity to blast Dudley with a hex presented itself. Somehow, he felt indifferent about being with Dudley and his gang in the same space, because facing Voldemort, not two weeks previously, made the threats his cousin gave not even remotely serious to him. So, he went.

The walk to the park passed generally in silence, Harry felt he made the air in the group rather awkward - they were not used to interacting with the person Dudley had told them so many negative things about. Moreover, he didn't seem strange either to most of them...

Harry didn't feel obliged to do anything about it, either. To him, this was a forced exercise, something he did not want or need to do, but for keeping the general peace in the house, until he got away to his favourite life-threatening situations again.

"What's up with your cousin, man? He seems fairly normal."

"Really, I am," Harry could not hide the sarcasm in his voice. "What has Duddeykins been saying about me?"

"Duddykins," sniggered another, "that true, mate?"

"Shut it, Pierce," Dudley snapped. "Don't listen to him."

"Duddums gets cranky after he hasn't had his evening milk," Harry kept it going to another round of guffaws.

"Your cousin is great, Dud," one of his friends made the mistake of admitting.

To his satisfaction, Harry could see the back of Dudley's neck growing redder, even in the final wisps of sunlight in the last stages of the dusk.

"I said, shut it," he fought to control himself. "He is one weird, misguided charlatan."

"Biggest word he's used all year," Harry explained. "I'm almost proud of him."

This was equivalent to over a decade of repressed hatred of Dudley rearing itself up within Harry. He didn't necessarily enjoy that he was the one stooping so low, but the baser part of him thoroughly enjoyed the torment he was giving Dudley in front of his pals. That part, unfortunately, had the upper hand now.

"Look, you mutt," Dudley turned around suddenly and jabbed his finger in Harry's chest. "Stop talking about me, or you're gonna get it. Bad." The threat ended slightly awkwardly, and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"If you know what's good for you, cousin," Harry told him on his own turn, "you won't try anything funny."

"You're outnumbered," Dudley sneered.

Harry looked around himself to enhance the effect, but then focused right back on Dudley. "That's not going to be a problem for me, Duddykins," he said calmly. Despite Dudley's aggressive behaviour, he saw the flicker of doubt fly across his face for just a moment.

The rest of the gang was split between supporting Dudley and looking rather confused at the strange exchange between the two cousins.

"Keep it cool, Dudley," Harry said. "We don't want any...issues."

He was enjoying watching Dudley battle with himself, but in the end, he seemingly managed to regain control. "Stop doing that. Or you'll really get it." Dudley formed a fist in Harry's face to make the point, but Harry remained just as unaffected.

Still, he played the sport. "All right, I'll stop."

The show worked for the gang, though. They had newfound respect for Dudley's ability to deal with competition and adversaries, even if all that depended on Harry's whim the entire time.

The downside was that Harry felt bored again, but they had reached the park by now.

A little girl was playing on the swing set where he knew Dudley and his gang usually hung out. He trudged along a little bit behind them as they made for their usual spot. The girl looked on apprehensively as they approached.

"Beat it, kid," Dudley snapped when they were within earshot.

Harry did not even have time to think about a reaction. The child bolted from the swing.

"Haha, nice one, mate," Pierce reinstated his subservient role to Dudley. Harry rolled his eyes.

"D'you guys feel a chill?" another of the gang said suddenly. Harry thought he heard his name as Bradley.

"Don't be a fool, Brad, it's a damn summer night," Dudley snapped at him in turn. Harry had been right in his assumption, he noted vaguely in his mind.

"I think he's right, Dud," Pierce visibly shivered.

There was only one thing that could explain such a sudden drop in the air temperature to Harry. In fact, he had his wand out before he even consciously registered the fact.

Hermione's lips on his in the train station...mind exploding...

"Expecto Patronum!"

The stag roared out of the tip of Harry's wand in a blinding flash of brilliant light, meeting the descending Dementors head on - screeching, three of them veered away back up into the sky, while the other two were engulfed and overwhelmed by the force of the spell - they fell motionless on the ground.

Harry kept his wand pointed high and in the direction of the Dementors. One had gotten a ways off and making for Pierce. He stood petrified, motionless with horror, in the path of the approaching Azkaban keeper. Harry drove the stag towards the Dementor, but it did not make contact until Pierce was already forced to be intimately acquainted with his worst fears and memories.

"No! Make it stop!" he screamed and writhed.

The stag drove off the Dementor, but Pierce remained in shock. The other two Dementors circled around the troop, looking to avoid the still circulating stag. Clouds had formed in the sky and the temperature had fallen below freezing. Dudley's face was pale as a sheet, the rest of his gang was cowering around him, Pierce was lying motionless, shocked on the ground, blinking helplessly and Harry kept a rapt focus on the two remaining enemies.

His Patronus split in two, as if of its own accord. Harry felt the greater strain of maintaining that connection, but surprisingly found that it did not cost him additional effort necessarily. A stag went after each Dementor, and the threat was summarily dealt with - the Dementors flew off into the distance.

The air began to warm noticeably again.

"Check on Pierce, Dudley," Harry said, while looking around for any more unexpected magical threats.

His cousin stood frozen and fearful.

"Dudley!"

The small pig-like eyes shifted uneasily and looked at him. "Huh?"

"Look after Pierce," Harry repeated himself.

"What about - "

"The rest of you - keep an eye out for anything strange. I'll be right back."

"But - "

Harry was particularly worried about Death Eaters more than the Dementors. Pierce, while shocked by the brief exposure, would ultimately recover fully. However, it was potential Death Eaters that could do far more serious damage.

He walked around the park, but there was no trace of activity. Had someone sent the Dementors remotely? Dudley and his gang were just as uneasy in the distance, but for all intents and purposes, defenceless against magical threats. Harry would have to double back quickly. If there were no Death Eaters, then, who would know when to find Harry, let alone where?

Suddenly, a crack in the air coming from his side did reveal that someone had indeed come to keep Harry company. He swivelled immediately on his heel to meet the threat, ready to disarm the potential opponent at once.

"Exp - " he had to catch himself mid-spell. "Remus!"

"Harry!"

Remus ran towards him, almost collapsing on his knees from exhaustion. He had to hold on to Harry to keep straight.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," Harry quickly said, "What's going on?"

"There are Dementors coming your way," Remus explained, still out of breath. "I came to find you."

"They came and went, Remus," Harry told him. "I fought them off."

"Oh."

The look on Remus' face was between surprise and comprehension, until the fact sunk in.

"You fought them off?"

"Yes."

Remus ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "This is not good."

"is Voldemort behind it?"

"Not necessarily him, Harry, but one of his servants. I'm worried, if we don't get you out of here, this could happen again, and you can't go fighting off whatever they decide to throw your way. What's more, they know where you live, and the protection your blood bond with your relatives might not be of much use if the attack is strong enough..."

"So, what do we do?" Harry, for the urgency of the situation, was not surprised in the least. In a perverse sort of way, he rather enjoyed it being the reason to leave Privet Drive prematurely.

"I think we need to talk to your aunt and uncle."

A/N: Somehow, my writing always takes a darker turn. I'm not sure why.

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