New Resolutions

By Jon08

The continuing saga of Dudley Dursley, Social Worker at the Ministry of Magic and his interactions with his cousin and the rest of the wizard world.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to these characters, they being the sole property of JK Rowling and am making no money from said story.

Chapter 1: A British Werewolf in Massachusetts

The portkey activated and Gabrielle and I were whisked from the peace of the hotel in France where we had spent the first night of our honeymoon and we were on our way to Massachusetts in the USA. The portkey was Mum and Dad's wedding present, well mainly Mum's I suppose considering Dad's ongoing problems with Magic. He had spent the wedding in the church, so uptight that if someone had greeted him with a slap on the back I'm sure he'd have cracked like a statue hit with a large mallet.

Aunt Marge was a different person, somewhere along the line, she must have had a 'personality transplant' of her own somewhere along the way; she had been talking quite warmly with Molly Weasley and Ginny, about her dogs as if they were her own children. The only person not enjoying what was going on had been Dad, every time someone came to talk to him he tried to vanish into the back of the chair he was sitting on, in case the person approaching him was going to put a spell on him or something. For the most part, he was avoided by the wizarding members of the congregation who gradually got to see how uncomfortable their presence made him. In some small way I felt sorry for him, this problem was all of his own making, if only he could see them as 'normal' people not some frightening wizard going to wave a stick at him and turn him into a toad or something.

There was the familiar feeling of nausea and wanting to fall flat on our faces as the portkey landed in a small secluded area at the rear of the airport; it looked just like a deserted broom closet or small storage room; then there was an unexpected red flash in the area and we seemed to be inside a red cage made of light. "European wizards, please wait for magical customs personnel to arrive. Do not attempt to apparate or portkey away, wards have been erected to prevent this!" Gabrielle and I looked at each other, we certainly weren't expecting this; nothing had been mentioned by the authorities at our own ministry about magical customs.

There was a slight shimmering in the air to our left and a tall individual stepped through the shimmer and onto the concrete floor of 'our cage'. Looking at the individual, it was easy to assess straight away that he wasn't entirely human. His ears were pointed, his hair seemed to grow outwards from the centre of his head and continue further down his back than was normal, and then there was the long tail; that passed through a hole in the back of his trousers, like a horse tail. "Sorry about the precautions, but we must be careful, no criminals try to enter our borders; I'm sure you understand?" Gabrielle and I nodded dumbly at this. "So glad you understand!" he took a small wallet from his pocket and opened to show what looked like a couple of surgical scalpels, sitting inside it. This caused me to get nervous, Gabrielle too, I shouldn't wonder, but I was too busy staring worriedly at the knives in front of me to look at her.

"If I may have your wand hand Sir?" asked the now rather alarming figure in front of us. Nervously I put my right hand forward, wondering what on earth I'd let us in for. With a quick jab, he took a small sample of blood, no more than a drop and dropped it onto the other side of the book from the blades. "Dudley Vernon Dursley, born June 23rd 1980, educated Little Whinging Elementary, Smeltings Academy, St. Piran's Comprehensive, Bristol University and Finally Hogwarts. Currently Social Services Minister at the UK Ministry of Magic. Am I correct?" I nodded numbly to this and looked quickly at my hand; there was no sign of any injury.

"Thank you...and Madam if I may?" A little more confidently after my ordeal, Gabrielle held her hand forward; "Gabrielle Marie Delacour Dursley born 19th December 1985, Dijon, France; home educated till eleven, then Beauxbatons Academy. Currently working in the technology department at the UK Ministry of Magic. Correct?" She nodded numbly in much the same way I had.

"So what happens now? How come we weren't informed of any customs by the ministry at home? Are you going to obliviate our memories of your inspection, so we won't tell anyone back home?"

"Just enjoy your honeymoon, congratulations by the way! I have no idea, why your ministry didn't inform you, then again, no offense, a lot of the European ministries are so outdated. You are free to enjoy all the amenities throughout the states, as long as you break no laws, and I must warn you; the obliviate spell you mentioned is treated as mind rape by the US courts of law, illegal in all 54 states!"

"Brilliant thanks! Hang on I thought there was only 50 states, when did you add the last four?"

"British muggle education, I take it?" I nodded at this. "There's New Sparta, one of the original 14 states that made up the first union. Then there's Western Colorado; that tends to be most of our lycanthrope citizens tend to reside, lots of open space or forest to run and hunt in both forms..."

"You allow werewolves to run around loose, are you not frightened that they'll bite someone or even worse kill when they're in their wolf form. It's extremely dangerous, isn't it?"

"Not dangerous at all! Your use of the term werewolf suggests that your ministry still believe the wolf part of a lycanthropes existence is a curse, even restricting the interaction such a person can have with society. Here in the states, you'll find no such restrictions. A lycanthrope has the same freedom as any human wizard; the European treatment of werewolves, that of locking them up when they become a wolf and treating them as second class citizens the rest of the time does no good. The wolf must be allowed to come forward at other times, not just the full moon. A level of control is learnt if this happens, the wolf is not just a frenzied animal, frustrated by only being allowed a couple of nights a month."

"Hang on. Werewolves can transform anytime, I thought it was restricted to the full moon?"

"Again, rubbish perpetuated by your ministries. A lycanthrope can transform into his lupine form at any time, a bit like a wolf animagus; it's only the full moon that he has to. If the wolf is treated as a caged wild animal, it acts like one. Why I bet your ministries are still advocating that 'Wolfsbane' potion that some crackpot European wizard tried to get licensed for use here a few years ago. That stuff failed to get FDA approval as a medicinal potion. It basically poisons the wolf; never be allowed in American Law."

"Blimey! Such things never occurred to me; what about the other states?"

"There's Nouvelle Lorraine, you'd better speak French if you go there, they can be a little touchy about it, and New Derry! All these extra states have some magical connection so are covered in Europe by your outdated Statute of Secrecy. There's no such law in the states, all information about magic is in the public domain. Of course you need to find it first before you're told everything, but it can be found if you know where to look."

"Sounds fascinating! We'll have to look into it a little more than we'd planned. We just assumed it would be the same as back home! Judging from your appearance and from something I learnt from an acquaintance back home, I'm assuming you must have a centaur somewhere in your family background and I would hesitate a guess that your family has connections to New Sparta; am I correct in those assumptions?"

"You sound more knowledgeable about the subject than most European wizards we see, and yes your assumptions are correct, my father is a centaur, a federal judge, mainly working in New Sparta. The first colony in the America's, established in 5AD, when my ancestors fled Greece. The attitude of the Greeks was changing towards centaurs, coming to see us as animals, so every centaur in the area left and tried to find the lost continent of Atlantis, the majority of the refugees found a large island and using their magic hid it from muggle perception; not that the term muggle was even around then, but you follow my meaning."

I nodded at this, blimey a whole new history of the ancient world, an earlier discoverer of America than I had ever heard about, fifteen hundred years before I had ever realised. "Is New Sparta still hidden from muggle perception, even though they've joined the United States?"

"Yes! The whole state is still hidden, the charms were so old and entrenched that when the state legislature tried to remove them, they found they couldn't, but they managed to make it so that outsiders could venture in. If you're hoping to go there, though, I should warn you; you'll never be allowed in. The borders were sealed against European wizards and especially British ones in the late 17th century, when British wizards passed their Statute of Secrecy. The borders will remain closed until a former bewigged pig comes to speak of peace! No one knows what this statement means so the borders will probably remain closed forever!" Both Gabrielle and I gasped at this last statement.

Gabrielle looked at me; "do you think it means you, certainly sounds like it?"

Our companion looked at both of us, his eyes wide, "does this mean anything to you? Most people laugh at the idea of a bewigged pig; but you seem to know something about it! Tell me what you know!"

I swallowed and began to tell the story of how I had lived with my cousin, the boy who lived, and been an overweight bully most of our childhood and his description of me to his friends. Our companion listened carefully to all of this, his eyes growing wider as I carried on. Eventually I came to my discussion in the Ministry with Firenze and how I wanted to try to make peace between centaurs and wizards after centuries of conflict.

Our companion swallowed and looked hard at me, new respect in his eyes. "I will be telling my father of this and you may hear from him in the near future. This puts a new light on a lot of things, please enjoy your honeymoon," he shook mine and Gabrielle's hands. "It's been an honour and a pleasure to meet you both." He made a gesture with his hand, the air behind him shimmered and he took a step back into the shimmer and vanished.

Gabrielle looked at me with awe in her eyes. "you, Dudley, are amazing, the first muggle ever to work for the Ministry of Magic, the first Muggle to pass his N.E.W.T.s, the newest wizard lord, and now spoken of in a three hundred year old prophecy; I still say you'll be Minister for Magic one day."

I sniggered at this comment and told her to make me an appointment when we got back to England to get fitted out with a nice green bowler hat. We made our way from the small reception room we'd arrived in to the front of the airport and caught a perfectly normal taxi to the hotel we were booked into.

The next morning after a leisurely breakfast, Gabrielle and I set off for a stroll towards a shopping mall we'd passed the previous night during the taxi journey to our hotel. The streets were quiet, not many pedestrians about, but a fair amount of vehicular traffic that didn't seem to be paying much attention to people walking on the pavements, guess I should think sidewalk over here. As we were unlikely to be noticed we decided that we would apparate from here to the coordinates we'd been given for the front entrance to the Salem Academy when we'd enquired about visiting the school. Magical America seemed to have a different attitude to magic than Britain, a lot more tolerant.

A few seconds later we stood in the middle of what appeared to be a small park area in the centre of a university complex. There was a small stone obelisk about four feet in height in front of us, with a brass plaque stating Salem Academy of Magic, Please state names and business. Looking askance at Gabrielle, I stated "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, pre-arranged tour of the school!"

"Ah! Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, you're a little earlier than we expected, I'll be with you shortly," a pleasant sounding male voice replied. I looked at Gabby and shrugged; we stood where we were and looked around at what we could see from our vantage point. It seemed to be a perfectly normal university, there were students walking about between buildings, no sign of any magic that we could see though, completely muggle in fact.

I looked up as a large dog seemed to be running towards us. The dog stopped in front of us and I noticed some misconception on my part, not a dog, a wolf. The wolf appeared to stretch itself and suddenly we were confronted with a man looking about forty wearing a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows, black denim jeans and a pair of stylish looking spectacles. "Sorry, I wasn't here to meet you, but you are earlier than we expected, I'm Sebastian Abbot, Principal of the Salem Academy!" He held out a hand for us to shake.

We shook his hand and followed him as he took us to start a tour of his school; "tell me Principal Abbot, what you can of the history of your school, we're very interested to know what we can!"

"Hmm! Well the founder of the school was one Simeon Slytherin who came over with the Pilgrims on the Mayflower, he was not officially part of their group, but was fleeing Britain because he had become infected by a werewolf and at that time, the common thing done with werewolves was execution. He was literally fleeing for his life. On arrival in the States, he left the majority of the colonists and went off on his own. He met up with the native Wampanoag Indian tribe and spent several years with them studying their shamanistic magic and in the process learnt how to control his wolf aspect, understanding how the 'wolf' was not a vicious beast to be feared, but a part of him that could help even enhance his own magical abilities. He was appalled by the furore caused by the Salem Witch Trials of the early 1690's and set up a school with the help of the Indian elders to teach and study magic. He called it the Salem Academy of Magic, and even managed to get state funding to study witchcraft and ensure no such travesty of justice ever occurred again. He died in 1721 at the grand age of 121, Boston's first centegenarian; he's buried on the campus. The school later became a college of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and has continued to take all students with Magical ability ever since."

"Fascinating, and do you know was he related to the Salazar Slytherin who was one of the co-founders of Hogwarts?"

"It's believed so, but of course there's no real proof, records were rather sketchy around that time although it is reported by the Wampanoag shamans that he was able to 'charm' the snakes of the area, so it's possible that he inherited the Parseltongue ability and put it to use in that way."

"How does your school function in such an environment, we find in England that magic and technology don't mix that well, even having to re-invent non-magical items of technology using magical components and charming them to do the same job."

"I believe I understand why! Most of the magic in England is of the wand user type, the way this interacts with the physical world is similar to radio waves, and then there is that totally unnecessary piece of legislation, the Statute of Secrecy. The bindings and strictures that that put on the magical world. Indeed if that piece of law were repealed tomorrow, you'd find a lot of the problems would sort themselves out. It stopped muggles finding out about magic but stopped wizards from finding about muggles. Our own policy of tentative openness means no such problem exists here, indeed it meant that we were able to assist N.A.S.A. with their Apollo projects and the moon landings. S.A.S.A. was responsible for many of the innovations that made that possible and all those discoveries were made at this school."

"I understand N.A.S.A., but what's S.A.S.A.?"

"Sorcerous American Space Association, of course! Many of our discoveries make it into the muggle world; of course most people aren't aware of the magical connection. You only find out about it if you stumble into it. It's not discussed outside of those people in the know, but there's nothing secretive about it on the whole. Plausible deniability and all that."

"Bloody hell, I've never liked that piece of law, it's denied me a lot of knowledge about my cousin and his world and now I have even more reason to hate it. You mentioned wand user magic, do you mean you can do magic without wands then?"

"Of course, magic is far older than your British society would have you believe, your magical history says that magic came to Britain with the arrival of Merlin, utter tosh, there was magic being practised in Britain before the Romans came. Your history is only concerned with 'wizard' magic though, magic that can be accessed using a wand; but even you have some magic that doesn't use a wand, apparition for example!"

"Fascinating! I've never really thought about that, technically potion making works the same way, you don't use your wand in that either or don't have to. When I was taking my exams, there were mentions of stirring the potion with your wand, mine wasn't a regular wand so I used a wooden spoon; the results were exactly the same!"

"Indeed, you don't even need to be magical to brew your potions, most of our potions in this country are made by the Apothecaries Guild; only about 1% of those has any magical education I believe, or indeed magical blood; and I don't mean wizard blood by that."

"What do you mean then? What sort of magical blood? This is fascinating!"

"Magical blood from magical creatures; veela like your beautiful wife, centaur blood, werewolf, or any magical hybrid, indeed about 45% of muggles are able to perceive and perform some sort of magic with the right education."

As we walked alongside Principal Abbot through the campus, I noticed that nearly everyone we could see was in their 20's, there was the occasional person who looked older. "Excuse me, but I understood the Salem Academy was a school for children, but we're in the middle of a university or college campus, for kids who've graduated high school! Were we wrong in our perceptions there as well?"

"You weren't. The School of Magic at M.I.T. is part of the main campus here; the Salem Academy is attached to that, just not part of the Institute, you'll see when we get there! Sorry about having to walk there by the way, that's part of the security precautions against outsiders finding us. Every visitor has to be escorted to the school on their first visit at least, to get introduced to the wards."

"Introduced?"

"Oh yes, I understand there's something similar in effect at Hogwarts for the students, the first years are taken in by another entrance, so as to get into the warded area without actually being a student yet. Apparently a battered old hat is used to officially enrol the student and allow them proper access into and out of the wards. Bit archaic, but effective I suppose!"

With that he lead us into a brick built building that looked as if it was fairly new and across a large hallway. There was an opulent set of double doors on the left hand wall; that from my recollection of seeing the building from outside would just lead back into another grassy area.

Principal Abbot turned to face us, a grin on his face, "welcome to the Salem Academy!" he opened the doors with a flourish and stood to one side.

Gabrielle and I looked through the doors to see, not the expected grass quadrangle but the inside of what seemed to be a colonial style mansion house. There were fittings in the walls, similar to those at Hogwarts that held flaming torches; here they had normal light bulbs, chandeliers hung from the ceiling, again with light bulbs rather than the candles we were accustomed to.

"Please follow me and I'll take you on a tour of the facilities!"

Authors Note: Welcome to what I hope will be the continuation of my first two stories; A New Beginning, and The Start Of Something New. If a lot seems to happen in this chapter it's needed to set things up for the future of the story. I'll be as quick as I can with updates.

My mention of the Wampanoag Indians and the M.I.T. is used entirely in verisimilitude and no connections should be inferred with the real Indians who were one of the native tribes in the area according to Wikipedia and the school which even myself as a Brit know is in Massachusetts.

The title of this chapter is of course a homage to the film 'An American Werewolf in London'.