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Harry Potter: Dudley From LOTM - 341
🕑 Added 2025-12-04 18:16:42 +0000 UTCChapter 341: The Man in the Box
Harry frowned, lost in thought, but he could not imagine any reason he would ever go looking for a man who wanted him dead.
"Leave it. Do not overthink it. Some things you only learn in their own time," Dudley said, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Yeah," Harry muttered.
Even so, a seed had been planted. The question took root in his mind, and with it a growing, uneasy curiosity about Sirius Black.
Watching his expression, Dudley could already guess what he was thinking and could not help shaking his head.
It was always like this. The more you told someone not to do something, the more determined they became. Tell a person not to think about a great green elephant, and that was all they could picture.
Harry’s personality only made it worse. He was hardly the type to stick meekly to the rules.
The next day.
The Ministry once again sent cars to take them to King’s Cross. This time, there were two vehicles, because the Weasleys and Hermione were travelling with them.
"Honestly, when did the Ministry get so generous?" Ron said as he settled into his seat, baffled.
"Probably when we ran out of cars," Mr Weasley joked.
Ron’s mouth twitched as he remembered the chaos of the previous year.
"It is because of Percy, obviously. He is Head Boy now. Of course, the Ministry sends a car," George said.
"Right. Next step is Minister for Magic," Fred chimed in.
"Then we will be the Minister’s brothers," George added at once.
"Oh, Merlin. Can that really happen?" Ron groaned.
Percy’s face reddened. "Will you two shut up?" he shouted.
Despite his protests, the gleaming Head Boy badge on his chest said quite plainly he did not find the idea entirely ridiculous.
Harry watched the Weasleys bicker and banter, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Dudley, however, was looking out of the window.
The more attention the Ministry lavished on them, the more dangerous the situation had to be.
His relationship with them was not exactly rosy at the moment. After the incident with Scrimgeour, he was black‑listed in the Auror Office.
Yet even so, they were sending cars for him. That alone suggested there were reasons far beyond simple kindness.
Let this all be about Black, he thought, and not Grindelwald.
No matter how dangerous Black was, he could not surpass his master, Voldemort. That made him manageable.
Grindelwald was different.
Their last encounter had ended with Dudley forcing the Dark wizard back in a clash of wills and corrupting his attempt at prophecy, but Grindelwald had not lost. Even caught in that situation, he had torn through Dudley’s seals and escaped. That alone proved his strength.
If someone like that had designs on Dudley, peaceful sleep would be hard to come by.
Before long, the cars pulled up at King’s Cross. They slipped through the barrier onto Platform Nine and Three‑Quarters and saw the familiar scarlet steam engine waiting for them.
After saying goodbye to the Weasleys, Dudley and Harry were the first up the steps.
"Dursley. Potter."
A sour, familiar drawl cut across the noise.
They turned to see Draco Malfoy a short distance away, watching them with cold eyes.
"Heard the Dark wizard Grindelwald came looking for you," Draco said. "You two are lucky to be alive."
"It is none of your business. Get lost," Harry snapped.
"Enjoy what little time you have left, then," Draco sneered. He spun on his heel and stalked away.
He had learned his lesson.
Now he swooped in, dropped a few barbed comments, then left before Dudley could get a hand on him. It was the surest way to avoid another beating.
"Heard your father was injured," Dudley called lazily after him. "He is lucky to be alive too."
Draco’s shoulders jerked. His face tightened.
No one had publicised the break‑in at Malfoy Manor. How did Dursley know?
"Enjoy what little time your family has left," Dudley added. "Could be tomorrow. It could be the day after. Either way, you might not have a family for long."
He turned away with Harry and headed towards the rear of the train.
Draco glared after them, grinding his teeth.
"That git never learns," Harry said, laughing. "Every time he comes over to taunt us, and every time he walks away furious."
"The more you lose, the more desperate you are to win just once," Dudley said.
They joked back and forth as they made their way to the very end of the train.
By now, the last compartment was effectively theirs. Every year they took the same one, and no one else tried to claim it. Being at the end also made it more private. With fewer people walking past, it was perfect for conversations that should not be overheard.
"Er..." Harry, walking in front, reached for the door – and froze.
"There is someone in here already," he said over his shoulder.
Dudley frowned and glanced along the corridor.
Most of the other compartments were clearly occupied.
"Nowhere else free. We will use this one," he said with a sigh.
They slid the door open and stepped in. Harry started stowing his trunk.
Dudley’s attention went straight to the man by the window.
The stranger wore a shabby wizard’s robe, so patched it was hard to tell what colour it had originally been. He looked ill and exhausted, utterly drained. Though he did not seem particularly old, grey streaks threaded his hair.
Clatter.
Ron yanked the door open, stepped inside, and then noticed the man by the window.
"Who is that?" he blurted.
He was clearly no student.
"Professor R. J. Lupin," Dudley said quietly, nodding towards the battered case on the rack above the man’s head. His name was stencilled there.
Clatter.
The door slid open again, and Hermione came in.
She, too, spotted the wizard by the window at a glance.
"You want to know who he is, don’t you?" Ron said smugly.
"Professor R. J. Lupin. It is written on his luggage," Hermione replied, looking at Ron as if he were slow.
Ron: "..."
"Sit down, all of you. The train is about to go," Hermione said briskly.
They took seats around the compartment, each one careful to leave a little distance between themselves and Professor Lupin.
Dudley, though, did not look away from him.
A faint light stirred in his eyes as he stared at the sickly‑looking wizard, Spirit Vision quietly peeling back the surface to see what lay beneath.
