For Whom The Bell Tolls

By WazupRose

Dudley Dursley: Violent Delights

"These violent delights have violent ends" -Romeo and Juliet

A/N- Hello again! Its been a long year, but I finally have another chapter. This one focuses on Dudley Dursley. Flashbacks are in italics and there is a warning for the (sort-of) death of a child.

Disclaimer- I don't own the Harry Potter series, so I own nothing here. Dialogue was taken from Order of the Phoenix and The Deathly Hallows. The title and quote come from Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet, and I don't own that either.

The T.V. blared loudly in the living room of number four Privet Drive. The newscaster voice floating out of the open window was the only interruption to the stifling silence characteristic to Little Whinging during the hot summer months. Visible in the open upstairs window of the house was a rather pudgy teenage boy, sitting on his bed with a comic book in his lap. While initially intent upon his comic, the boy suddenly looked up as a breaking news segment drifted up to his ears

"-for today's breaking news."

"Thanks Angela. For the news today, an urgent situation has developed in central London. A bomb has gone off in a crowded street, killing 15 and injuring many more. The bomb went off at 11:34 this morning and has caused mass destruction, loss of life, and property damage to nearby store owners. No information is known about the perpetrators, but speculation has been cast on both terrorist groups and several of the prisoners of the mass breakout earlier this year. This is the fifth incident involving an explosion this year, and-"

The boy heaved himself off the bed and pushed the window shut. The newscaster may not know where to place the blame for the sudden upsurge in violence, but Dudley Dursley had the unfortunate privilege of knowing the truth. The 'bombs,' along with other incidents such as collapsed bridges and massive gas leaks, were not random accidents or the work of an ordinary terrorists' cell. Dudley knew the frightening truth; this was the act of terrorism lead by criminals with magic. Much like the comic he had been reading, but Dudley knew that unlike his comic, the bad guys here could win.

"Dudley! Is your bag ready?" his dad called up the stairs. It was their twelfth time reloading the car with everything they would need to move away. The beginning of the summer, as usual, had brought his cousin Harry Potter back from his school. What was unusual this time was the visit from two others like Harry, one a dark-skinned man with a calming aura called Kingsley and the other the father of those awful twin boys who had caused his tongue to grow to an enormous and painful length. Dudley had been prepared to dislike the two on principle (and anyone else related to those twins really), but the news they carried was dire. A war had broken out among their kind. Muggles would be targeted, and as the family to Harry Potter they would be one of the biggest targets. The Kingsley man (who Dudley guessed wasn't all that bad) said for their own protection they had to move, and his dad took it about as well as Dudley would have expected. Despite his dad's loud and angry complaints, he did initially agree to move, but had been changing his mind back and forth ever sense.

"Be down in a minute!" he called back. He hadn't even bothered to unpack his bags this time, but instead shoved them in his closet for when his father decided to make him lug them downstairs again. He grabbed the first bag and heaved it to the front door, then huffed upstairs for the second. Dudley was about to bring down the second bag when he glanced at his closet and stopped. If he remembered correctly, he still had a pair of dumbbells in there somewhere that his dad would struggle to lift. Dudley dug them out and added them to the bag. It would serve his dad right for continuously changing his mind.

Once he brought the second bag to the door, he strode into the kitchen and grabbed some crisps. As he was eating them his cousin walked inside, done with weeding the garden and likely going to wash up.

Harry. There was a complicated topic. Dudley didn't quite know what to think about him. He had been raised by his parents to hate Harry and everything he represented. As a child, Dudley had always gone with whatever his parents said. According to them, Harry was the opposite of normal. They never really explained why he was so abnormal, only that he was. With no-one contradicting these views Dudley accepted what his parents told him; his cousin was abnormal, and Dudley was better than his cousin. He could pick on Harry all he wanted with no consequences, so Harry Hunting became a great source of entertainment. If he whined enough about Harry, he could get things out of his mum she wouldn't otherwise give him. As a youth all this seemed brilliant and he could find no problems with his life. At seventeen, the darkness that ran through his house was glaringly obvious.

The change, he pondered, first came when he was fifteen.

Flashback

"See ya, Big D!" Piers called out before taking off with the rest of the gang. Gordon waved a final goodbye and his best friends rounded the corner toward their respective homes. Dudley shoved his hands in his pockets and turned toward Magnolia Road to head home. He hummed some pop tune he heard on the radio as he considered the kid they beat up today. Reginald had it coming really, considering the insults the younger boy had thrown at Malcolm and Gordon. The kid certainly wouldn't forget to show proper respect now, and if he did all he had to do is look in the mirror at the black ring around his eye to remember.

"Hey Big D!" a familiar voice said mockingly.

Dudley turned around to see his irritating cousin's sharp grin and acid green eyes staring back. If he had disliked his cousin when he was younger, that was nothing compared to how he felt now. Instead of the helpless and pathetic kid Harry used to be, he could now use magic to do whatever he wanted. He had the backing of a whole community of others like him at his beck and call, and Dudley hated it. Life was much simpler when the most dangerous thing about his cousin was the possibility of him spitting into Dudley's bacon. Now however irritating Harry was Dudley couldn't deck him without fear of some magical (probably redheaded) person coming to give him a pig's tail or grow his tongue out.

"Oh," he grunted with a nasty look at Harry. "It's you."

"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" his cousin smirked.

"Shut it." He snarled back. It was actually a recently given name that Piers had invented. Though somewhat unoriginal, it made him the leader of his group, so Dudley was proud of the title.

Harry seemed less than impressed and continued to mock him. Dudley bet he'd never dare to do so if he didn't have his stick-wand thing that all these magical people carried. Their argument continued as they walked further along Magnolia Road, quickly shifting from his nickname to Dudley's gang to Dudley mocking Harry's nightmares. Apparently that was the wrong thing to mock his cousin about, as Harry whipped his wand out and shoved it into Dudley's chest.

Dudley's heart pounded. Every past experience with magic had shown him that when magical objects were pointed at him (or used on him, or ate by him, or even just in his general vicinity) bad things happened. Harry was normally snarky, rude, and annoying, but his had never had this sort of murderous rage in his eyes before. Dudley was actually worried that Harry would try to kill him. Who knows what Harry was taught in that magic school of his. He could be trained in how to kill or torture people and Dudley wouldn't be able to stop him, cause Dudley wasn't cursed with (wasn't gifted with) magic.

"Point that thing somewhere else!" he cried as his hands began to shake.

"I said, do you understand me?" Harry snarled.

"Point it somewhere else!"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? Harry shouted.

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM-" Dudley stated to yell back when a startling wave of cold came over him. The night suddenly seemed darker, and all the normal suburban sounds disappeared. Dudley froze in terror, certain that his cousin was preparing for some ritual to dismember him and use his body parts in potions. Harry wouldn't stop whatever this was despite Dudley's protests, so Dudley used his rather impressive right hook to punch Harry in the side of the head, hoping to knock him out. As Harry fell to the ground Dudley took off running.

In his determination to get away from his potentially murderous cousin, Dudley forgot about his lack of vision. With a painful oomph he collided with the alley fence, and then with something so cold he thought he felt frost gather on his shirt. Before his could take another step his vision swam, and memories began to flash before his eyes with terrible clarity.

He was six years old and strapping on his new Velcro shoes. His cousin was behind him, struggling to tie the laces on his dirty secondhand trainers as the two got ready for their first day of school. Suddenly his Dad came around the corner and grabbed Harry harshly by the shoulder, shoving the boy against the wall. His Dad hissed threats to Harry, about how he had better not do anything freakish at school or he would regret it. Dad shook Harry several times for emphasis before letting him go. As Harry fell painfully to the ground, Dudley's dad turned to Dudley and patted his on the shoulder, proclaiming how proud he was of his Dudley finally going to school. Dudley smiled and agree with his dad but couldn't turn his attention fully from his skinny little cousin on the floor. It was the first time Dudley recognized the difference between how he and his cousin were treated. Dudley felt something uncomfortable in his chest as he watched Harry return to tying his shoeless and discretely wipe his tears, but with the promise of an afterschool ice cream celebration he pushed the feeling away. It was an action he would become very familiar with.

He was eight and he and Piers were chasing Harry by the school buildings. It was their favorite game, and having Piers as a friend made the running worth it. Dudley knew how this game ended-how it always ended- just so long as he could catch his much faster little cousin. As they rounded the corner to a dead end near the art building, Harry turned with a mix of fear, anger and defeat in his eyes. Piers grabbed his arms and held him down as Dudley began punching him. Harry's struggles were useless against the much larger boys, and as Dudley continued his punching, he shoved the strange feeling out of his chest again.

He was nine and his Dad was yelling at Harry for some sort of freakishness he had done at school. With a final angry bellow, Dad grabbed Harry by the hair and pulled him toward the cupboard under that stairs. Harry tumbled into the small space and Dad slammed the door shut. Dudley kicked the cupboard as he walked by and taunted Harry about the lack of food he would soon face (a typical punishment that came with the an extended stay in the cupboard). The feeling was barely present and easy to ignore.

He was eleven and his cousin had just gone who knows where to study freakish magic stuff. Suddenly Dudley and his gang were down a target. He had to do something to keep Piers and Gordon around. Across the playground he saw Dillon Brookes reading in the shade of the tree. Nearly as weak as Harry, Dillon would be easy to beat up. With a nasty grin he motioned to Piers and the group headed toward their new target.

He was twelve and watching as his dad attached bars to his cousin's window. He could see Harry's tension filled face in the corner of the window as he was sentenced to stay imprisoned in the small room…

He was thirteen and had just sent an eight-year-old girl home with a split lip and black eye…

He was almost fourteen and Cynthia Davis had switched schools due to a bully she was too scared to identity. She left the school in tears, and Dudley felt nothing but satisfaction…

He was fourteen and hated the diet he was forced to eat, but at least Harry still got a lot less than him. Harry's shirt shifted, and Dudley realized Harry was so skinny that Dudley could see his bones against his skin. Dudley shrugged and tried to steal Harry's quarter of a grapefruit…

He was fifteen and he spent the summer finding kids to beat up. Most of the kids avoided the playground now, and it gave him a rush to know he was in charge of the place. Reginald had it coming after all, and no one could argue that Dudley was the best fighter…

The visions suddenly changed. Instead of memories of the past, Dudley saw himself, but older. His future self did not look well- he was grossly overweight, and still going around the neighborhood with Piers, Gordon, and the gang. Only this time, the ten-year-old they were beating up didn't move after Gordon dealt the last blow. The girl's eyes were open and unblinking, and blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth. They all ran away, leaving the corpse on the playground…

He was wearing an orange jumpsuit and facing a court. Piers was in the booth next to him and both were handcuffed. Gordon was on the stand, crying crocodile tears as he described his desperate attempts to stop them from killing little Matilda…

He sat in his jail cell and wished he had ice for his bruised eyes. The other inmates didn't like child abusers (and that was apparently what he was now). He wondered how his life came to this…

He was working in a Tesco's bagging groceries. It was the best he could do with a criminal record..

He was in a hospital bed, dying from heart problems. He glanced around, but realized he was alone…

The visions suddenly stopped, but Dudley couldn't bring himself to look around. He was certain he would see the jail cell, or the hospital bed. Maybe he would see even worse. Distantly he felt arms pulling at him, a vaguely familiar voice conversing with a much more familiar voice (teary green eyes, bones showing through skin). He thought his could feel his feet moving but wasn't sure. Finally he started to recognize where they were. There was his front door, and his mum's startled face. He could hear his dad's shouts (messy black hair being gripped hard, a skinny figure shoved in a cupboard) and suddenly felt sick. He was pretty sure he was retching all over his mother's prized Persian carpet, but the world seemed to blur around him. Eventually everything was quiet apart from his mum's fussing, but nothing could silence the memories that were burned into his brain. The magic things ("dementors" his cousin had said) may be gone, but the visions they had drawn out of him didn't leave.

That day had a profound impact on Dudley. It was shocking for him to suddenly be shown, in vivid detail, what a terrible person he had become. He had never questioned his family's treatment of Harry before. Harry was a freak, one of "them," not quite even human, and deserved everything his parents did to him. Being forced to see the difference between how he was treated and how Harry was treated called into question everything he thought he knew about how his family worked. From there it wasn't hard to realize that if how they treated Harry was wrong, then using weak excuses to beat up little kids (excuses, he could see that they were excuses now) was wrong too. The most disturbing part of the memories, which he could only conclude was a vision of the future, gave him the most motivation to change his view of the world. For all that he might not be that bright, Dudley knew that he didn't want to end up in prison or dying in a hospital bed alone.

He decided to change his ways in the following years, however difficult it may be. Piers wasn't happy about his ideas of not picking on little kids, but Dudley eventually convinced him to get into skateboarding instead. When Harry came back, Dudley tried to be nicer to him. He didn't once tease him or bully him. Dudley didn't really know what he could do to be better to Harry (this was all sort of new to him) so he put tea near Harry's door. His cousin seemed distracted these last few summer, and Dudley wasn't even sure he noticed. Perhaps it was better that way. Harry had spent too many years being "noticed" by Dudley and his friends.

Now things were changing very quickly. With Harry's seventeenth birthday coming up, Dudley and his family were in danger; they would have to move. No more Piers, no more playground, no more skateboarding or boxing. But several weeks later as he stood downstairs on moving day, he knew it was for the better. If he could avoid more of the terrifying dementors, or Death Munchers, or Inferi (which he was pretty sure were zombies) moving would be worth it. They would even have these two strange magical people as guides and protectors (Hesta and Wiggle? Something like that). As they prepared to head out of number four Private Drive for a final time, there was only one thing Dudley was confused about.

"Why isn't he coming too?" he asked with a glance at his cousin.

There was a stunned silence from his parents and cousin. The Magic-people just seemed confused, but Dudley was more concerned with Harry staying here. For better or worse, Harry had always been a constant in his life. They were all in danger, and it was still summer, so why was Harry not coming with them to safety?

"Well, he- he doesn't want to" his dad said. Dad turned to Harry "You don't want to, do you?"

"Not in the slightest" his cousin replied.

Dad tried to hustle them out again, but Dudley stayed put. He was still confused. He doubted Harry really wanted to stay with them in past summers, but he still had to for some reason. Now he suddenly had a choice? It didn't make sense. Did Dad kick him out? Where was Harry supposed to go, if he wasn't with them and his magic school was out of session.

"But where's he going to go?" Dudley asked his parents. They seemed confused and worried for some reason, as if Dudley was the one being unreasonable. His dad blustered out some unhelpful answer and tried to hurry them out the door, offending their magic guards in the process. Dudley watched, still trying to figure out where the answer to his question was in all this (its not as if it was a difficult question after all) and only drew his attention back at Harry's proclamation that they thought Harry was a waste of space.

Because Harry wasn't a waste of space to him. Harry had saved his life with the dementors, and he really wasn't so bad anyways. Dudley could understand why Harry felt this way though. He had basically been treated as a waste of space by the Dursley family his entire life. Dudley remembered the memories from the dementor attack, still burned into his brain years later. Harry being constantly ignored in favor of him, Harry being thrown around by his dad because he was different.

"I don't think you're a waste of space." Dudley said. He had to tell Harry, because Harry certainly wasn't going to hear it from Mum and Dad. At Harry's incredulous stare, Dudley blushed bright red. It was probably the kindest thing he had ever said to Harry, and Dudley was acutely aware of that shameful fact.

"Well…er…thanks, Dudley." Harry replied, not quite meeting Dudley's eyes. It seemed that Harry was just as uncomfortable with the sudden display of almost affection as Dudley was. It occurred to Dudley that the biggest harm done to Harry wasn't from Dad's manhandling, or his Harry Hunting days. The biggest harm to Harry was the total lack of caring they had shown to him. Harry didn't know how to receive affection, or deal with his emotions. Cold apathy could be more harmful than any punch. Dudley was reminded of a quote from a play he had been forced to read that year. "These violent delights have violent ends." The actual play was mind-numbingly boring (except the sword fights) but that line had stuck with him. Dudley had caused Harry harm from a young age, and now it was coming back to bite him. This parting they were facing might not be a violent end, but the tension and discomfort they both felt in the face of Dudley sudden caring made his stomach jerk painfully. Dudley didn't know what to say to Harry to make him understand how he had changed.

"You saved my life." He finally settled on. It was the event that had triggered the change after all. Dudley wasn't very good with words, but perhaps that would make Harry understand.

"Not really. It was your soul the dementor would have taken…" Apparently not.

His mum burst in to tears and showered him with praises, but Dudley was more interested in making Harry understand. He just couldn't leave Harry like this when he may never see his cousin again. He detangled himself from his mum's arms and walked over to Harry, who stiffened slightly at his approach. Dudley considered how he would tell Piers he respected him and liked him. He stuck out his hand to Harry, hoping his cousin would understand what he was trying to convey.

Harry stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before gingerly taking it. "Bilmey Dudley, did the dementors blow a different personality into you?"

"Dunno," he muttered. In truth, yes they had. Or rather, they had pulled out the old personality he could have had. The personality he had started to bury at six years old until it was nothing but a tiny shriveled shred stored in the caverns of his heart.

"See you Harry."

"Yeah…" Harry said, "Maybe. Take care, Big D."

It was the use of his nickname, the one Harry had mocked years ago, that told Dudley that Harry understood what he was trying to say. That Dudley knew that things growing up weren't right, and that he needed to change. That maybe things weren't perfect now, but he could try his best to fix it. Dudley felt his lips twitch, and knowing his message was received, lumbered outside to the car.

Hours later, Dudley was staring at the trees flashing by his window. They were heading to wherever the safehouse the wizards picked out was. Dudley had no idea where they were going, but he didn't really know enough about geography to have a preference. His cousin was left behind, in an empty house where he had never really belonged, but ironically would be the last one to leave.

"These violent delights have violent ends" Dudley thought, "but with every ending there's a new beginning". Perhaps he could make this his new beginning. A new house, new school, and new friends meant he could change himself completely if he tried hard enough. Maybe it would work. Maybe not. Either way, at least he had a chance now to make a new beginning for himself. He hoped, if his cousin was alive when this war was over, Harry could have a new beginning as well.

A/N- So here I wanted to show a different side of Dudley. Yeah, he's a jerk as a kid but he gets better by the end of the series. Since I know it will come up, no he didn't actually have a dementor-induced vision of the future. The dementors feed off fear, and I figured that Dudley could have those fears deeply hidden. These fears could be drawn out by the dementors. Not all fears take the form of memories after all.

Any feedback is appreciated. Also feel free to request characters, I'll get to them eventually!