Post by Rachael on Jan 17, 2013 10:45:32 GMT -8
Title: Breaking the Circle
Challenge: Second Chances
Rated: G
Summary: This is a story of how one incident can change the course of your life.
AN: It's great to be doing challenges again! I hope you guys enjoy this and good luck to everyone!
Dudley had always thought that it was only natural to treat his cousin as if he worth less than dirt. That brat will never amount to anything, his father had always said, drilling it into him since a young age. He had been taught to hurt him, to call him names for being a good-for-nothing lout...for having talents that no ordinary person would have. It was just the way he had been brought up and yet in the back of his head, there was always the tiniest niggling, murmuring that it was wrong.
He ignored it, believing his father could never be wrong...but in the end, that little murmur proved itself to be right, despite his father’s constant vows that Potter would be a worthless sponge for the rest of his life. Perhaps it was Fate, but for whatever reason Dudley had been with Potter, the night the Dementor attacked. The night haunted him, no matter how many times he tried to put it behind him. Week after week following the incident, Dudley found his slumber plagued with nightmares.
For the first time in his life, he knew what it was like to be Harry Potter, to be attacked by something larger than him, stronger than him, more frightening than him. Night after night, he would dream of hooded figures with rotting hands, trying to rip his hands away from his face, trying to get at his mouth. He often woke drenched in sweat, his body shaking, his pupils dilated with terror. Sometimes...the feelings were too much to bear and the tears would come. They were not the tears of a man who was trying to be strong, but of a child who was afraid of the dark...of things unseen by normal eyes.
He could remember the horror on Potter’s face and the determination. Potter had told him to run...to get out of there...had tried to save him...and Dudley had not once deserved such kindness. Potter was, by far, a better man than him and it had taken a moment of sheer terror, a moment filled with all of Dudley’s worst memories and feelings, for him to see it. He never looked at Potter the same way again and never said a bad word about him. When they had come home from a goose chase, to find Potter missing, a spike of fear had injected itself into his heart.
Dudley and his mother had searched the entire house, looking for any trace of him, though his father just made himself a ham sandwich and a cup of tea. That night was the first time he had ever heard his mother address Potter as Harry. It was a night of many firsts, one of them being that he told his father that Potter was not worthless. The man had been too shocked to say anything in response, but his mother had almost fainted following the words he had uttered. He could not fathom why; Potter had saved his life, after all.
He was twenty-five now and looking back, he never once regretted his change of heart. After he was saved, he worked hard to be worthy of it. He studied more than he ever had in the past and graduated from school with high grades, if not the best. He was now in University, studying the Occult. It drove a rift between himself and his parents; it pained him, but he was not going to withdraw simply because his parents wanted him to. They could not control the direction his education would take him.
Hunched over his work in the public library, Dudley ran his hand through his blonde hair. He was writing an essay on blood rituals and found himself wondering if this is what saved Potter’s life when he was an infant. His mother had told him that it was Aunt Lily’s love for Potter that saved him and yet something about that did not sit well with him; surely there had been more mothers who had sacrificed their lives in an effort to save their children, during the Magical war? It begged research.
When he finished his essay he let out a tired sigh and started packing away his belongings – it was a good thing, too; it was almost closing time. He shouldered his book bag and left the library in a hurry. He climbed into his car – a gift from his father after Grunnings hit an all-time high in sales – and prepared to head home. By now it was late evening and the gloom was setting in heavily. There was also a thick fog; it rather reminded him of the summer of ’97 but he did not like to think of it.
Dudley started the engine and pulled away from the curb, driving away from the library. He drove through eight streets and up and down a hill, heading towards the familiar junction that would take him home. The fog was impossibly dense now and his fog lights hardly allowed him to see through. An icy chill raced through him, hitting his bones with a vengeance. He slowed to a more cautionary speed and whether as a result of Fate or mere chance, this proved to be a wise move. Almost as soon as he had slowed down there appeared in front of his car, with a loud crack, a young – and clearly Asian – woman, dark hair and Wizard clothing whirling about her.
He had no time to think of how pretty she looked, with fog swirling around her, for he had to slam on the breaks to avoid hitting. Mercifully, he was already going at a slow speed. Dudley was about to get out of the car and ask if she was alright when she started backing away from him, right arm rising – there was a wand held tightly in her hand! “Expecto Patronum,” she cried, thrusting her arm forward. He remembered those words from long ago, a spike of terror lancing his heart.
A large silvery swan erupted from the end of her wand and fluttered about her once, before charging down something Dudley could not see. He knew what they looked like, however; his nightmares had supplied him with that much. Part of him wanted to slam down the accelerator and get out of there before any of the Dementors could get their hands on him...but another, larger part knew he had to stay. He could not leave a young woman to fend off such creatures alone, even if she had Magic while he did not.
His movements were clumsy, both from the cold brought on by the Dementors and his own fears, but he struggled to get the car door open regardless. The woman saw his movements, her brown eyes burning brightly, and the corner of her mouth quirked the slightest bit. There were clearly a number of Dementors in the area, for her Patronus was flying this way and that, but looked like it was getting struck every other moment. It started flickering violently as the woman began losing concentration.
Finally Dudley managed to get the car door open. He jumped out and raced towards the woman, his large hands grabbing her slender arms. Hauling her along beside him, he raced back to the car, shoving her in ahead of him, forcing her to climb past the gear stick. She slumped against the passenger seat even as he pulled the car door closed. He sagged back against his own seat, breathing heavily and trying to rub some warmth into his arms. “Are you alright” he asked after a moment, turning his head to look at the woman sitting beside him.
“I will be,” she said in a strong British accent, which surprised Dudley quite a bit. Her voice held the slightest tremor. It was obvious to him that her brush with Dementors had brought up some painful memories. “You shouldn’t have stopped to help me; you should’ve kept going.”
“And what if they’d overpowered you?” he replied, starting the car with a shiver.
For several moments she was silent as Dudley drove as far away from the area as possible, but eventually she uttered a quiet, “thank you.” The corner of Dudley’s mouth quirked upwards; the woman’s presence in his car was providing a good distraction from everything the Dementors had made him remember. He was beyond grateful for that. He glanced sideways at her. She was really quite beautiful, though foreign women usually were not as appealing to him as English women.
“You’re going to be in trouble with the Ministry, you know; I’m a Muggle!”
She looked at him in surprise. “How do you...?”
“Never mind that,” he said with a chuckle. “For now, all you need to know is that my name is Dursley. Dudley Dursley.” He held a hand out to her, awkwardly, in greeting.
“Cho,” she said in response, taking his hand briefly in hers. “Cho Chang.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cho.” Dudley felt light-hearted. He seemed to be running into Magic, no matter how long ago he had known Potter. It seemed that something or someone was willing to give him a second chance, a chance to break the circle of intolerance that had been in his family....
The End.
Challenge: Second Chances
Rated: G
Summary: This is a story of how one incident can change the course of your life.
AN: It's great to be doing challenges again! I hope you guys enjoy this and good luck to everyone!
Dudley had always thought that it was only natural to treat his cousin as if he worth less than dirt. That brat will never amount to anything, his father had always said, drilling it into him since a young age. He had been taught to hurt him, to call him names for being a good-for-nothing lout...for having talents that no ordinary person would have. It was just the way he had been brought up and yet in the back of his head, there was always the tiniest niggling, murmuring that it was wrong.
He ignored it, believing his father could never be wrong...but in the end, that little murmur proved itself to be right, despite his father’s constant vows that Potter would be a worthless sponge for the rest of his life. Perhaps it was Fate, but for whatever reason Dudley had been with Potter, the night the Dementor attacked. The night haunted him, no matter how many times he tried to put it behind him. Week after week following the incident, Dudley found his slumber plagued with nightmares.
For the first time in his life, he knew what it was like to be Harry Potter, to be attacked by something larger than him, stronger than him, more frightening than him. Night after night, he would dream of hooded figures with rotting hands, trying to rip his hands away from his face, trying to get at his mouth. He often woke drenched in sweat, his body shaking, his pupils dilated with terror. Sometimes...the feelings were too much to bear and the tears would come. They were not the tears of a man who was trying to be strong, but of a child who was afraid of the dark...of things unseen by normal eyes.
He could remember the horror on Potter’s face and the determination. Potter had told him to run...to get out of there...had tried to save him...and Dudley had not once deserved such kindness. Potter was, by far, a better man than him and it had taken a moment of sheer terror, a moment filled with all of Dudley’s worst memories and feelings, for him to see it. He never looked at Potter the same way again and never said a bad word about him. When they had come home from a goose chase, to find Potter missing, a spike of fear had injected itself into his heart.
Dudley and his mother had searched the entire house, looking for any trace of him, though his father just made himself a ham sandwich and a cup of tea. That night was the first time he had ever heard his mother address Potter as Harry. It was a night of many firsts, one of them being that he told his father that Potter was not worthless. The man had been too shocked to say anything in response, but his mother had almost fainted following the words he had uttered. He could not fathom why; Potter had saved his life, after all.
He was twenty-five now and looking back, he never once regretted his change of heart. After he was saved, he worked hard to be worthy of it. He studied more than he ever had in the past and graduated from school with high grades, if not the best. He was now in University, studying the Occult. It drove a rift between himself and his parents; it pained him, but he was not going to withdraw simply because his parents wanted him to. They could not control the direction his education would take him.
Hunched over his work in the public library, Dudley ran his hand through his blonde hair. He was writing an essay on blood rituals and found himself wondering if this is what saved Potter’s life when he was an infant. His mother had told him that it was Aunt Lily’s love for Potter that saved him and yet something about that did not sit well with him; surely there had been more mothers who had sacrificed their lives in an effort to save their children, during the Magical war? It begged research.
When he finished his essay he let out a tired sigh and started packing away his belongings – it was a good thing, too; it was almost closing time. He shouldered his book bag and left the library in a hurry. He climbed into his car – a gift from his father after Grunnings hit an all-time high in sales – and prepared to head home. By now it was late evening and the gloom was setting in heavily. There was also a thick fog; it rather reminded him of the summer of ’97 but he did not like to think of it.
Dudley started the engine and pulled away from the curb, driving away from the library. He drove through eight streets and up and down a hill, heading towards the familiar junction that would take him home. The fog was impossibly dense now and his fog lights hardly allowed him to see through. An icy chill raced through him, hitting his bones with a vengeance. He slowed to a more cautionary speed and whether as a result of Fate or mere chance, this proved to be a wise move. Almost as soon as he had slowed down there appeared in front of his car, with a loud crack, a young – and clearly Asian – woman, dark hair and Wizard clothing whirling about her.
He had no time to think of how pretty she looked, with fog swirling around her, for he had to slam on the breaks to avoid hitting. Mercifully, he was already going at a slow speed. Dudley was about to get out of the car and ask if she was alright when she started backing away from him, right arm rising – there was a wand held tightly in her hand! “Expecto Patronum,” she cried, thrusting her arm forward. He remembered those words from long ago, a spike of terror lancing his heart.
A large silvery swan erupted from the end of her wand and fluttered about her once, before charging down something Dudley could not see. He knew what they looked like, however; his nightmares had supplied him with that much. Part of him wanted to slam down the accelerator and get out of there before any of the Dementors could get their hands on him...but another, larger part knew he had to stay. He could not leave a young woman to fend off such creatures alone, even if she had Magic while he did not.
His movements were clumsy, both from the cold brought on by the Dementors and his own fears, but he struggled to get the car door open regardless. The woman saw his movements, her brown eyes burning brightly, and the corner of her mouth quirked the slightest bit. There were clearly a number of Dementors in the area, for her Patronus was flying this way and that, but looked like it was getting struck every other moment. It started flickering violently as the woman began losing concentration.
Finally Dudley managed to get the car door open. He jumped out and raced towards the woman, his large hands grabbing her slender arms. Hauling her along beside him, he raced back to the car, shoving her in ahead of him, forcing her to climb past the gear stick. She slumped against the passenger seat even as he pulled the car door closed. He sagged back against his own seat, breathing heavily and trying to rub some warmth into his arms. “Are you alright” he asked after a moment, turning his head to look at the woman sitting beside him.
“I will be,” she said in a strong British accent, which surprised Dudley quite a bit. Her voice held the slightest tremor. It was obvious to him that her brush with Dementors had brought up some painful memories. “You shouldn’t have stopped to help me; you should’ve kept going.”
“And what if they’d overpowered you?” he replied, starting the car with a shiver.
For several moments she was silent as Dudley drove as far away from the area as possible, but eventually she uttered a quiet, “thank you.” The corner of Dudley’s mouth quirked upwards; the woman’s presence in his car was providing a good distraction from everything the Dementors had made him remember. He was beyond grateful for that. He glanced sideways at her. She was really quite beautiful, though foreign women usually were not as appealing to him as English women.
“You’re going to be in trouble with the Ministry, you know; I’m a Muggle!”
She looked at him in surprise. “How do you...?”
“Never mind that,” he said with a chuckle. “For now, all you need to know is that my name is Dursley. Dudley Dursley.” He held a hand out to her, awkwardly, in greeting.
“Cho,” she said in response, taking his hand briefly in hers. “Cho Chang.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cho.” Dudley felt light-hearted. He seemed to be running into Magic, no matter how long ago he had known Potter. It seemed that something or someone was willing to give him a second chance, a chance to break the circle of intolerance that had been in his family....
The End.