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Fractured
Dudley D. & Harry P. & Voldemort - Words: 15,060 - Rated: T - English - Angst & Drama - Chapters: 11 - Reviews: 5 - Updated: 11-07-2018 - Published: 22-10-2017 - by CreativePunk77 (FFN)

This fic will be about 70 chapters long, and I hope that people enjoy.


CHAPTER ONE

Cold.

He felt so cold.

He felt as if the warmth had been sucked from him. Sucked from his very soul.

He felt as if he would never be happy again.

Those things…

Cold. Unhappy. Made him feel weak…

He was cold and unhappy.

And it was all Potter's fault.


"Bloody traffic!"

Dudley tore off the soaked towel, panting in fear. His heart slammed against his chest and he tugged at his baggy jersey. His jersey was stuck to his skin, the summer heat coating his body in sweat. His cheeks were reddened by the sun, but he could only shiver as the coldness creeped up on him. He felt as if the Grim Reaper was caressing him, and shivered violently.

Those things had made him see…

The car swerved to the right and Dudley whimpered in panic. His Dad's reckless driving had always been a source of amusement for him. Seeing his cousin's face squashed up against the glass of the window, Potter's glasses cracking as the car sped round another corner, it left him in tears of laughter.

But now, those memories were no longer looked upon as fond, as he lurched to the side, his seatbelt chafing his torso. He could imagine how Potter felt all those years ago, his Dad was driving like a maniac!

Trying to will away the motion sickness, Dudley wedged the freshly cleaned metal bucket between his large knees and knuckled his eyes.

"D-Dad… P-Please stop the c-car… I'm gonna-"

Vernon and Petunia cringed at the sound of vomit hitting the bucket, the screech of the tires the result of their panic.

"Hold on, son! We're nearly there!"

Moments later, Dudley lurched as the car swung round another corner. The motion dislodged the bucket from between his knees and he ended up with vomit splashed all over him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

The car screeched to a halt, his parents whipping their heads round. His Dad's eyes bulged as his Mum gasped in horror.

"Duddy! Where did you learn that sort of language?!"

Their son straightened himself up and slumped back in his seat.

'Shit, I'm in for it now. First time I've ever actually got told off in my whole life. Fuck, what do I say?'

The lie rolled off his tongue easily, his features contorted into an early tantrum phase face.

"I heard H-Harry say it a few weeks ago! It's a really bad word I know, but I've got s-sick all over me, it was the f-first thing that came out of my mouth! I'm s-sorry!'

"Oh, sweetheart." Petunia's pursed lips softened. "That nasty boy contaminating you. Well, don't worry, once we got home, Daddy will sort him out." She glanced at her husband, who was once again driving. "Won't you, Vernon?"

"I'll make him pay for what he's done to our family. Interrupting our lives, causing destruction in primary school, setting the snake loose, messing up my deal with the Masons, blowing Marge up, the whole tongue incident, bloody Dementoids and now swearing? That boy has been let off too easy before! Making our son swear is the last straw!"

Dudley rolled his eyes. His parents really had no idea, and he was keen for it to stay that way.

"Pumpkin? I'm going to ask any of the nurses if they have spare clothes you can change into. I'm not letting my baby go round covered in…" She whimpered, whispering: "Vomit."

His Mum was the biggest OCD neat freak going, so Dudley was surprised that she hadn't passed out at the sight of sick splattered all over her 'perfect' angel.

"Thanks, Mum." He tossed the bucket across the back seat. "H-How much longer?"

The car screeched to a stop.

"We're here!" Vernon announced proudly, grimacing in horror at the sight of the back seat. "Cleaning the upholstery will cost an arm and a leg…"

Feeling slightly guilty about dirtying the seats, Dudley clutched his head as his parents got out of the car, shaking his head when his door opened.

"Come on out, Dudley. We need to get you seen. Take my arm."

With his mother attempting to support his bulk, he climbed out of the car, collapsing against his father seconds later.

"I've got you, Dudders, I've got you. Pet? See if you can find a doctor quickly."

Petunia nodded and headed off towards the hospital, the clacking of her sandals making Dudley's head pound.

'Bloody Hell, what did those dementoids do? Christ, my head…'

The next few minutes were a blur. Vision swimming in and out, Dudley allowed his body to be contorted into different positions, his mind spacing. It reminded him of when he was blazed a couple of weeks ago, and a small smirk slipped onto his face at the memory of kissing a girl behind the tree in the park.

She was nameless. A slag in his eyes. Face heavily doused in make-up, shorts skimming her arse cheeks. High pitched voice squawking everywhere. He had kissed her, mainly to shut her up and with the kissing, came feeling her up. That had been a result, and he enjoyed bragging to his mates afterwards.

"Mr Dursley? Dudley? Can you look into the light please?"

Dudley blinked, spots dancing across his vision. He blinked again, the worried faces of his parents clear in front of him. They were hovering behind a doctor, who adjusted his glasses with one hand. Glasses that looked so much like Potter's.

"Dementoids…"

"What was that, Mr Dursley?"

"Huh?" Dudley scowled. "Nothing. Just get on with it. I want to go home."

The doctor raised his eyebrows, but continued on with the examination. There was no point in arguing with the boy, it seemed that he was just like his parents, who'd argued with majority of the staff in the department to get their son seen urgently. He was the only staff member willing to cope with the demanding family, and hoped that the boy wouldn't have to be referred for further treatment.

Dudley stared into the light, huffing when the doctor asked questions. He left his Mum to answer for him, zoning out once again as he reflected on earlier.

'Potter pulled his stick out, then bam, lights went out. It got dark, we ran down the alleyway, then… I felt cold and sick… He told me to shut my mouth. Little runt, I'll get him for that. Then… Fuck, I'm not thinking about that.'

He shook himself back to reality. "I'm gonna be s-sick again." Upon being handed a bucket, he dry-heaved, his empty stomach clenching in agony. Mum's delicious serving of meat pie was no longer coating his stomach, and he spat out saliva with a groan.

Vernon poked the doctor in the back. "Well? What's wrong with him?"

The man sighed, and stepped back. "Your son is clearly suffering from sickness and dizziness. I would suggest a few days spent in bed to recover, and drinking plenty of liquid. Try to get him to eat soup so that he can digest it easier."

"Anything wrong with his mind? Is he loopy?"

"Vernon!" Petunia hissed. "There's nothing wrong with his mind! He's perfectly normal!"

"There are no neurological issues that I can see. You're free to go."

"Thank god." Vernon took hold of the wheelchair that Dudley was seated in and wheeled him out of the room, Petunia following them closely. As the door shut, the doctor shook his head in exasperation, mumbling:

"Good grief, that boy has no chance."


"I knew there was nothing wrong with him! You see, Pet? Our son is strong!"

Usually, Dudley would have puffed his chest out at such praise, but all he wanted to do was go to bed and hide under the covers. He curled up on the back seat, the loaned clothes far too small for him. His muscles strained against the material of the shirt and he was wary that he might tear the shirt if he moved too much.

'Great. Soup for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Least that stupid diet got me prepared for it.'

The diet was still a sore point for him, too mortifying to go into much detail when brought up, but his bulked up body certified him dozens of trophies, a star place on the school boxing team and more attention from girls.

As well as better reputation.

"Duddykins? You did so well! We're so proud of you."

His Mum stroked his hair and Dudley smiled at the touch. She treated him like a baby and most times, it was sickening, but fuck, he needed this!

His Dad rambled on and on until they pulled onto their drive, the next five minutes spent bundling Dudley into the house and up the stairs. It was a relief when he sunk into the sheets, his duvet pulled up tight to his neck. Mum sat down on the bed and cooed sweetly, whilst Dad went out into the hall-way.

"Potter! We're back! You best thank your lucky stars Dudley is okay, but you're still going to be punished for it! Boy, you… Petunia! The boy! He's gone!"

As his mother rushed out of the room in a panic, Dudley burrowed under the covers. This was the safest place for him now.

He must have drifted off for a while as when he opened his eyes, the duvet was half-way down the bed, his parents looking down at him.

"W-Where's Potter t-then?"

"He's gone, Duddy."

"Gone? W-What do you m-mean, gone? He did this to me!"

"I know, son. But some of… his lot came and took him away. To one of their places. He won't be back till next summer."

"T-Thank god." He shivered. "Why can't he just not come back?"

"Sshhh, don't exert yourself, sweetie." Mum pulled the covers back up and smoothed his gelled spikes down. "Me and Daddy will stay with you until you go to sleep, ok? We want our precious little boy to be all better."

'Hand me the sick bucket.' "T-Thanks, Mum. D-Dad."

They smiled down at him, and Dudley closed his eyes. Although their love was smothering, he knew they would always be there for him.

No matter what.


He was stuck in bed for four days.

His Mum constantly fretted, doting on every single demand with all of her attention. As always, Dudley decided to use it to his advantage and managed to have actual food put in front of him only hours after his power nap when they had returned from the hospital.

Piers had checked in from time to time, Dudley laughing to himself when yesterday morning, Piers had knocked on the door so hard he had received a bellowing from Dudley's Dad as soon as the door was opened. He had given up trying to see Dudley, which was for the best, as Dudley didn't want any of his mates seeing him looking weak.

It was now Friday and he decided it was time to get out of the house. Climbing out of bed, Dudley swayed on his feet, the room spinning. He fell back down onto the bed with a curse.

He hadn't been sick since that morning! Why was he getting so weak all of a sudden?

"Fucking pussy." He snarled under his breath. "Get up and walk down the stairs. You're strong."

This mantra repeating in his head, Dudley stood up, arms thrown out to help his balance, before padding over to the door. He opened the door and stepped out onto the landing. Stretching his arms, Dudley sighed and headed over to the stairs. Walking down them, he smirked.

Today, he would catch up with his mates and have a bit of fun.

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