Dudley's Discovery (More Prologue Added)

Chapter 10 ~ Off to Diagon Alley

As he and Harry walked across the school grounds heading for the gate, Dudley
couldn’t help thinking about when Harry left for school the first time. He had
to be driven to the station by Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia and Dudley rode along.
Dudley remembered it well. His father couldn’t wait to take Harry to the
station.

”Platform nine and three quarters,” he blustered to his wife and son.
“It’s madness. There’s no such platform. I’m going to leave him right there at
the station.”

Dudley had gotten in his last few punches on Harry in the car. When they reached
their destination, Vernon dumped Harry’s trunk on a cart and wheeled it inside
for him, which Harry was rather surprised about, because Uncle Vernon rarely did
anything nice for him. Dudley trundled after them, puffing at the activity, he
was so fat. He didn’t want to miss this.

They arrived at platform nine. Right after it was platform ten. There was no
platform nine and three quarters. Dudley remembered what his dad had said:

"Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine -- platform ten. Your platform
should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do
they?"

Dudley had laughed at Harry, and he and his father left him standing there by
himself, making no move to help him locate where he was supposed to go at all.
It had been mean of them, but back then, they were always mean to Harry. It was
like breathing.

They walked across the school grounds, Harry looking at the list Hermione had
made up on Friday, before all the trouble with Ron and Lavender. There were a
huge number of books listed.

”He needs all the books, Harry,” the witch had told him as they sat on
the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. “For every year.”

Harry had taken the list doubtfully and read it over. He looked up at Hermione.

”His head’s going to explode, Hermione,” Harry had replied. “Dudley
doesn’t even like to read anything other than sports magazines, I think. Boxing
and weight lifting. I really think he just looks at the pictures.”

Hermione snorted at Harry’s assessment of his cousin.

”He’ll read these, Harry. It will be interesting to him because he’s a
wizard. Don’t underestimate him.”

Now they were on their way to Diagon Alley.

”We’re going to have to stop by Gringotts first,” Harry told Dudley as he
pocketed the list, pulled out his wand and unwarded the gates.

”What’s Gringotts?” Dudley asked, watching Harry do magic as if it were the most
normal thing in the world. It really was cool.

”It’s a wizarding bank. It’s where we keep our money,” Harry told him,
conveniently leaving out it was run by goblins. Dudley would find that out soon
enough.

”You know, Harry, I have about fifty pounds on me,” Dudley said. “I could buy
some of the stuff myself.”

Fifty pounds? Harry didn’t get as much as a pence from his aunt and uncle when
he lived with them. Fifty pounds would have seemed like a fortune. For a moment,
Harry’s face went dark as he remembered just how spoiled Dudley had been, while
he was treated like garbage. He had parents who doted on him, while Harry had no
one. And they did their best to make him aware of that.

But, that was the past. He had to move past it. Dudley had come looking for him
because in the end, he cared about him. That’s what mattered now. Dudley was
only acting like his parents. He’d been raised to be a git. But, somewhere along
the way he changed. People changed all the time, didn’t they? Plus, he was a
wizard. He was more like Harry than his parents now. They were on the same page.
They had to stick together. Harry suddenly felt better, the anger and jealousy
that rose like bile in his throat, easing away. Dudley was his cousin . . . his
family.

They walked through the gate and Harry warded it back. Dudley looked back at
Hogwarts castle. How didn’t anyone see the huge building? Yes, it was out rather
far and on a cliff, but a whole castle? Tourists should be flocking here by the
droves.

”You’d have to convert your money first,” Harry said. “Here, we use Galleons,
Sickles and Knuts. There’s seventeen silver Sickles to one gold Galleon, and
twenty-nine copper Knuts to one silver Sickle. It’s easy.”

”So how much is fifty pounds in wizard money?” Dudley asked him.

Harry did some quick calculating.

Well, there are five pounds to one Galleon, so you have ten Galleons. It’s not
much really, but you’ll probably be able to pay for your own wand, if you like,”
he told Dudley. “I only paid seven Galleons for mine and it’s a good wand.”

Dudley nodded, then frowned slightly as he thought of something.

”I’m going to have to do something for money,” Dudley said, “I can’t live off
you, Harry. Is there any way I can make some?”

Harry thought about it.

”Well, some people tutor, but—you can’t do that. Then others who are good at
things other people aren’t make money by providing some kind of service. Sewing,
painting, things like that. Magic is good, but it has its limits. Sometimes
people want handmade things.”

Dudley thought about this. There was really only a couple of things he was good
at. Boxing and weight-lifting. He doubted wizards would get into boxing, because
they had wands to fight with. Maybe they’d get into weight-lifting. But, were
there weights at Hogwarts? He supposed he could go home and get his set if he
had to, and he would have to. He hadn’t worked out in a couple of days. Oh, he
did his normal exercises in the mornings in his room, or else he wouldn’t feel
right the whole day, but he missed his weight workouts. He knew he had to work
at it to stay in shape. He could end up fat again if he slacked off. He didn’t
want that.

Home. That would be an adventure for sure. His father wasn’t going to take it
well that he was a wizard, and his mother, she’d probably faint dead away—and
cry buckets when she awoke. Dudley wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation
ahead. He’d probably be disowned and would be alone in the world, like Harry.


He looked over at his cousin, who was walking beside him. No, that wasn’t true.
He’d have Harry.

Dudley pushed the thought of his parents out of his mind as Harry stopped and
flicked his wand at his face.

”What are you doing?” Dudley asked him, not seeing any change.

”Oh, I put a concealment spell on my face, so I can move around without people
stopping us. They like to get autographs and pictures. I always do this unless
I’m going to the inn or pubs for a night out. Then, my face is an advantage.”

“Well, you don’t look any different to me,” Dudley said, squinching up his eyes
as if to see anything different about Harry.

”That’s because I didn’t want to hide myself from you,” Harry said. “I included
your name, and the names of people who I want to recognize me when I cast it.
The shopkeepers mostly. It’s kind of a complicated spell, a modified Glamour.
Hermione taught it to me.”

”Oh,” Dudley said shortly. He hadn’t even heard Harry cast the spell. He must
have done it in his head. Cool.

Harry then directed Dudley to take hold of his robes.

”Hold on,” Harry warned him, then, they Disapparated.

***********************************

Once again Dudley stomached the feeling of being crushed between two walls, then
pulled through them, before the pressure suddenly disappeared, followed by a
loud crack like thunder. At least he didn’t lose his breakfast this time. He
looked around.

”Welcome—“ Harry said, sweeping his arm dramatically, remembering his first time
here with Hagrid so long ago, “to Diagon Alley.”

Dudley blinked. They were standing on a long, cobbled street. An amazing amount
of strange shops and restaurants lined the street, and a lot of people, well,
wizards and witches were walking about, peering in windows and purchasing things
from vendors who had stalls stuttered along the sidewalks. He looked at some of
the names.

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Flourish & Blotts, Gambol & Japes, Madam
Malkin's Robes For All Occasions . . .

And there was Eeylops Owl Emporium. A number of owls sat in cages outside of the
shop, hooting at passerbys.

”Harry, is that where you got your owl?” Dudley asked Harry.

Harry looked over at the Emporium, feeling a sense of loss. He missed Hedwig.

”Yeah, I got her there. Hagrid bought her for me as a birthday present my first
year,” the boy who lived replied.

Dudley studied the owls. There were a couple that looked like Harry’s owl. Snowy
white and huge. He hadn’t seen the owl since coming to Hogwarts.

”Where is your owl?” Dudley inquired.

Harry looked at Dudley, his face suddenly drawn.

”She’s dead. She was killed by a stray Killing Curse when I was trying to get
away from Privet Drive the last time I saw you,” he said heavily.

Dudley stared at him.

”People were trying to kill you, Harry?” he asked him, going a bit gray. “Right
in our neighborhood?”

”It was sticky getting out of there that night,” Harry said shortly, “but, I
don’t want to talk about it, Dudley. We need to go to Gringotts bank.”

Harry pointed down the street at an imposing white marble building. It towered
over the other shops, and was near the intersection of Knockturn Alley.

”All right, Harry,” Dudley replied. There was a sense of heaviness now between
the cousins. Harry had gone through a lot, and most of his memories were
painful. Dudley was a bit sorry he’d asked about his owl.

They walked down the street in silence, moving through the crowd of people
around them, heading toward the bank.

When they reached it, Dudley saw there was a flight of white stairs that led up
to a set of bronze doors. He stared. Not at the steps and doors, but at the . .
. the thing dressed in scarlet and gold standing sentry next to the doors.

”What is that?” Dudley whispered to Harry, who grinned.

”That’s a goblin. Don’t get too close. They bite,” Harry told him.

Dudley paled as he looked at the creature, who looked back at him steadily as
they mounted the stairs, Dudley moving on the other side of a grinning Harry as
they approached the doors.

The goblin was short, dark-skinned, and rather thick. It had long fingers, sharp
nails and long feet. Its eyes were dark and slanted and it had a small beard,
like a goatee. It nodded at them as they stepped onto the landing.

”Good morning, Mr. Potter,” the creature said.

Harry’s glamour didn’t work on goblins at Gringotts. They were too sharp and had
spells in place attuned only to them that revealed deceptions. They had to
protect the bank after all.

”Good morning,” Harry replied, pulling open the door as Dudley gawked at the
creature. The goblin gave him a smile, showing small, but very pointed teeth. It
looked a bit like a snarl. Dudley hurried in after Harry.

”Will we be seeing any more of those things?” Dudley asked Harry, looking behind
him to make sure the doors were closed.

”Oh, a few,” Harry said with a smile.

They were standing in a small entrance hall, facing a pair of silver doors.
There were words printed on them. Dudley read them.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

That sounded rather ominous as Harry pulled open the door. Dudley pressed very
close to him as there were more goblins flanking the door. They weren’t as dark
as the one outside, but they had the same slanted eyes and long hands and feet.
They nodded at the two wizards soberly as they passed into a vast marble hall.
It was filled with at least a hundred goblins, sitting at counters. They were
all occupied with bank business, some examining gemstones, others weighing
coins, some filling out ledgers, others helping customers, leading them through
a number of countless doors.

Dudley’s eyes rounded.

”We’re surrounded!” he breathed, his heart thudding in his chest as about twenty
goblins looked up at them in irritation. “Take your wand out, Harry!”

Harry chuckled.

”Calm down, Dudley. They run the bank. We’re fine, unless we try to steal
something,” Harry told him.

Now, all of the goblins stopped what they were doing and looked toward Harry and
Dudley with narrowed eyes. Even the ones helping customers stopped and stared at
them mid-walk. Goblins had excellent hearing. Steal?

”Which we won’t,” Harry added quickly, a bit of perspiration quickly prickling
his forehead.

The goblins went back to their work as Harry let out a little sigh of relief and
wiped his brow with his hand. You had to be careful what you said around
Gringotts goblins, particularly after the experience they had when Voldemort had
nearly taken over everything. They were taking no chances this time around.

Harry walked up to one of the counters. The goblin sitting there was writing in
a ledger. He looked up at Harry and Dudley, then put his quill down. He was
wearing a very nice business suit, tailored for a goblin of course. He was bald
and had sharp black eyes.

”I am Sharptooth. Welcome to Gringotts. How can I help you today, Mr. Potter?”
the goblin asked.

Dudley blinked.

Sharptooth?

”I need to make a withdrawal and convert fifty English pounds to Galleons,”
Harry replied, taking out a small golden key and handing it to the goblin, who
examined it, then handed it back.

”Very good. First, we’ll do the conversion. Where is the money?” the goblin
asked.

Harry looked at Dudley, who was still staring at the goblin.

”Dudley, give him the money,” Harry said to his goblin-struck cousin.

Dudley started, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a number of neatly
folded notes. He dropped them into the goblin’s outstretched hand, eyeing the
long, pointed black nails a bit nervously.

The goblin proceeded to count the notes out carefully, then clipped them
together, opened a drawer and placed them inside. He then opened another drawer,
taking out a small bag. Then he hopped off the stool and walked to a small
combination safe. He hunched over it, blocking Dudley’s and Harry’s view as he
covetously dialed the combination, looking over his shoulder at them from time
to time as if to see if they were trying to see the numbers.

Harry shook his head. Goblins were like evil little misers.

Sharptooth took out several golden Galleons, carefully closed the safe, tugging
on the handle to make sure it was locked, then walked back to the counter and
climbed up on the stool. He then counted out eight Galleons.

”There you go,” Sharptooth said as Harry scowled.

”That’s only eight Galleons. He should get ten,” the wizard said angrily.

The goblin arched an eyebrow at him. Sharptooth was a very clever-looking
creature.

”I’m afraid the rate of exchange has changed, Mr. Potter. There's been an upturn
in the financial market, thanks to you and Voldemort's death,” the goblin
informed him, dropping the Galleons into the bag and pushing it towards Dudley.
“And if things continue to improve the Galleons to pounds rate probably going to
get worse before it gets better. Now, come with me.”

Dudley pocketed his gold coins and followed Harry and Sharptooth to one of the
many doors. They entered. This area looked much different than the main hallway.
It looked more like the kind of place you’d find goblins. They were in a
passageway made of hewn stone. It was dimly lit by torches and sloped downward.

”Where are we going?” Dudley whispered to Harry. One of Sharptooth’s ears
shifted slightly.

”To the vaults,” Harry said as the floor leveled out. There was a track, and an
iron cart sat on it.

”Get in,” Sharptooth instructed.

Harry climbed in as Dudley stared at the cart. It had two hard metal seats in
back for passengers and a driver’s seat in front. A control stick was in front
of that.

”There aren’t any seat belts,” Dudley observed as Sharptooth climbed in and
settled himself in the driver’s seat. He looked back at Dudley.

”Get in,” he ordered again, irritation on his dark face.

”Get in, Dudley. It’ll be fine. I do this all the time,” Harry told him, ready
for another fun Dudley moment.

Dudley reluctantly climbed in. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be good.

”All right, I’m in,” Dudley said unnecessarily as Harry smiled at him.

”I suggest you hold on,” Sharptooth said, pushing the stick forward. The cart
began to move. It was a little jerky, but the speed was fine. Dudley relaxed.

”Hey, this isn’t so—baaaaaaaaaaad!” Dudley shrieked as the cart dropped, zooming
down a steep incline so fast that he couldn’t see his surroundings. The torches
seemed to be a steady stream of orange light as they flew. Suddenly, they were
in a huge open area, tracks and carts everywhere, screaming witches and wizards
seated inside them, clutching each other as goblins flew them toward their
destinations, grinning maniacally. This was the best part of working at
Gringotts, giving wizards and witches heart attacks.

”Harry! We’re going to die!” Dudley screamed as they whipped around a slanted
bit of track.

”Pretend it’s a rollercoaster!” Harry yelled back at him as he clung to the
cart. “That’s what works for me!”

Dudley let out another scream as they narrowly missed another cart with two
screaming witches in it that passed in front of them. A rollercoaster? Was Harry
insane?

”Can you slow this thing down?” Dudley yelled at Sharptooth, who grinned nastily
at the question, although Dudley couldn’t see it.

”No!” the goblin yelled back. “Only one speed! Fast!”

They flew through caverns, over humps, through a maze of passages, one of which
contained at least two loopty-loops, then plunged vertically straight down for
almost a full mile. Dudley’s hair streamed straight back, which was a testament
to how fast they were going, because his hair was short. He couldn’t even yell
anymore. He just hung on, steeped in terror, sure they were plummeting to their
deaths. The air was becoming colder and colder as they again started hurtling
around corners, then rode over a deep, dark ravine on just the track. The cart
was rattling and shaking as if it could barely keep its wheels connected as it
zoomed over the rickety wooden bridge. It was more than terrifying looking down
into that yawning blackness. They entered another passageway and Sharptooth drew
the stick back. They stopped in front of a small door in the stone wall.

Sharptooth hopped out of the cart and held out his hand for Harry’s key. His
suit wasn’t even ruffled. Harry climbed out of the cart and handed it to him,
then looked back at Dudley, who seemed frozen in place, his face drawn and pale,
his eyes glassy and staring straight ahead.

”Dudley? Are you all right?” Harry asked him, a bit concerned. He really didn’t
look good.

Dudley’s wide blue eyes shifted toward Harry and his mouth worked a few times
before he was able to speak. Finally, he got it open and the words out.

”I don’t bloody believe we survived that,” the Hufflepuff said, slumping in
relief, some color returning.

****************************************

A/N: Now, that was fun to write. Notice how I added the dismal economic
conditions of today in the mix? I didn’t plan it, but it happened. Poor Dudley.
Lol. Still, more to come about his day. Thanks for reading. ***

A/N/N: I changed the economic downturn, simply because Bill Clinton was in
office then, and that man has us going strong. He knew how to run the country.