Chapter 236
Harry got to his feet and stretched. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon considered Dudley's arrival home to be the proper time for everyone else to return as well, and any delay afterward was unacceptable.
Uncle Vernon had threatened to lock Harry in the cupboard if he came home after Dudley, so Harry headed toward the garden gate.
Magnolia Road, like Privet Drive, was lined with large houses with neatly trimmed front gardens, owned by beefy, square-shaped people who drove spotless cars like Uncle Vernon's.
Harry preferred Little Whinging at night, when the curtained windows cast patches of light onto the darkness, giving the streets the appearance of jewels glittering in the night. Besides, he no longer had to endure muttered complaints about his miserable appearance from the residents as he passed.
He walked quickly, and halfway down Magnolia Road he spotted Dudley's gang again. They were saying their goodbyes at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent. Harry stepped into the shadow of a large lilac tree and waited.
"...He squealed like a pig, didn't he?" Malcolm was saying, provoking stupid laughter from the rest of the gang.
"That hook punch of yours was brilliant, Big D," said Piers.
"Same time tomorrow?" Dudley asked.
"Meet at my place," said Gordon. "My parents will be out."
"See you then."
"Bye, Big D."
Harry waited until the gang had disappeared before continuing. When their voices had faded, he turned into Magnolia Crescent and hurried until he drew level with Dudley, who was strolling along humming to himself.
"Evening, Big D."
Dudley spun around with annoyance.
"Huh? Oh, it's you."
"Since when have they started calling you Big D?" Harry asked.
"Shut up!" Dudley snapped, turning away.
Harry grinned as he walked beside him.
"What a terrifying nickname... but to me you'll always be Duddykins, Mummy's little sweetheart."
Dudley's pig-like fists clenched tightly.
"I said shut up!"
"Do the others know that's what your mother calls you?"
"Shut up or else—"
"Or else what? What about Dinky Diddydums? Can I use that one too?"
Dudley said nothing. It seemed that every ounce of his self-control was being spent preventing himself from hitting Harry.
Harry's smile faded.
"So who did you beat up tonight? Another ten-year-old? I know you attacked Mark Evans two nights ago..."
"He asked for it," Dudley growled.
"Really?"
"He insulted me."
"Oh, did he? Did he say you look like a pig that learned to walk on two legs? Because that isn't an insult—it's simply the truth."
A muscle twitched in Dudley's jaw. Harry felt a deep satisfaction. Knowing how much he was provoking him made it easier to vent some of his own anger and frustration onto his cousin—the only outlet available to him.
They turned into the narrow alley where Harry had first seen Sirius, back when he had been a fugitive and still in his dog form.
It served as a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. The alley was deserted and darker than the surrounding streets, with no lamps at all.
Their footsteps were muffled by the garage wall on one side and the tall fence on the other.
After several seconds, Dudley said,
"Do you think that thing makes you tough?"
"What thing?"
"That... that thing you hide."
Harry smiled again.
"So you're not as stupid as I thought, Diddy. Though if you really were stupid, I doubt you'd be able to walk and talk at the same time."
Harry drew his wand. Dudley cast a nervous glance at it.
"You're not allowed to use that," Dudley said immediately. "I know you're not. They'll throw you out of that freak school if you do."
"And how do you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?"
"They haven't," Dudley replied, though he sounded uncertain.
Harry laughed softly.
"Not brave enough to fight me without it, are you?" Dudley snarled.
"Oh, that's rich. And you're not brave enough to beat up ten-year-olds without four friends behind you. Remind me again about that boxing champion title you brag about. How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?"
"For your information, he was sixteen!" Dudley snapped. "And he stayed unconscious for twenty minutes after I finished with him. He weighed twice as much as you. Just wait until I tell Dad you pulled that thing out..."
Then Dudley muttered,
"But you're not so brave at night, are you?"
Both of them stopped walking. Harry stared at his cousin. Even in the darkness, he sensed he had struck a nerve.
"What do you mean? Afraid in bed? What do you think I fear—pillows?"
"I heard you last night," Dudley panted. "Talking in your sleep... moaning."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked again, though an icy feeling had settled in his chest. The graveyard had visited his dreams again last night.
Dudley barked out a cruel laugh and imitated a terrified voice.
"Don't kill Albert! Don't kill Albert! Who's Albert? A friend of yours?"
Harry answered automatically.
"Y-you're lying."
But his throat had gone dry. Dudley wasn't lying. Otherwise, how did he know about Albert?
"Daddy, help me! Daddy, he's going to kill me! Daddy! Aaah!"
"Shut up," Harry said quietly. "Shut up, Dudley. I'm warning you."
Dudley backed against the wall. Harry's wand was aimed directly at his chest.
Fourteen years of hatred surged through Harry's veins.
What was stopping him from striking Dudley now? What prevented him from casting a curse that would make him crawl home like an insect, or collapse while eyelashes sprouted all over his body?
"Never mention this again," Harry growled. "Do you understand?"
"Point that thing somewhere else."
"I said, do you understand?"
"Get it away from—"
Dudley suddenly gasped as though he had fallen into icy water.
Something strange had happened to the night around them.
The dark blue sky turned pitch black. The stars vanished. The moon disappeared. Even the street lamps at both ends of the alley went out.
The distant sounds of traffic and the rustling trees ceased.
The warm evening became bitterly cold.
They were engulfed in total darkness and silence, as though a giant hand had dropped an invisible frozen curtain over the alley.
For a split second Harry wondered whether he had accidentally performed magic, but reason quickly returned.
He didn't possess enough power to extinguish the stars.
"What are you doing?" Dudley whimpered. "Stop it!"
"I'm not doing anything. Shut up and don't move."
"I can't see anything! I've gone blind!"
"I said shut up."
Harry stood perfectly still, his eyes scanning the darkness.
The cold was intense. The hair on his arms stood on end.
"This is impossible... they can't be here... not in Little Whinging..."
He listened carefully.
He would hear them before he saw them.
"I'll tell Dad..." Dudley sobbed. "Where are you?"
"Will you be quiet? I'm trying to lis—"
Harry froze.
He had heard something.
Something else was in the alley.
Something approaching with rattling, rasping breaths.
Terror flooded Harry.
"Stop whatever you're doing! I'll hit you, I swear I'll hit you!"
CRACK!
A fist smashed into the side of Harry's face and lifted him off the ground.
White lights flashed before his eyes.
For the second time that evening, it felt as though his head had split in two.
He hit the ground and his wand flew from his hand.
"You idiot!" Harry shouted.
Dudley, tears streaming from his eyes in pain and panic, was crawling on his hands and knees, frantically searching for the wand.
Harry heard him stumbling away into the darkness.
"Come back, Dudley! You're running straight toward it!"
A terrible scream echoed through the alley.
Dudley's footsteps ceased.
And Harry felt an icy horror behind him.
There was more than one.
"Keep your mouth shut, Dudley!" Harry muttered desperately. "Whatever happens, keep your mouth shut! Where's the wand? Where—? Lumos!"
The spell came automatically.
Light burst from nearby.
The tip of his wand glowed.
Harry seized it, leapt to his feet, and spun around.
His stomach twisted with fear.
A huge hooded figure in a ragged cloak was gliding toward him.
It had no visible feet.
No face could be seen beneath the hood.
It seemed to drag the darkness itself with every breath.
Harry staggered backward and raised his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A thin silver mist emerged from the wand.
The Dementor slowed, but the spell had failed.
Harry stumbled backward again.
The Dementor bent over him.
Panic overwhelmed reason.
Two slimy, grey hands emerged from beneath the cloak.
The noise inside Harry's ears became deafening.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Another wisp of silver smoke escaped his wand—weaker than before.
He could no longer cast the spell properly.
Laughter echoed inside his head.
A high, cold laugh.
He smelled the Dementor's rotten breath.
Its icy fingers closed around his throat.
Think...
Think of something happy...
But there was no happiness left.
He would never see Albert again.
Or Ron.
Or Hermione.
Suddenly their faces appeared in his mind.
Gasping for breath, he cried,
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A gigantic silver stag burst from his wand.
Its antlers struck the Dementor in the chest.
The creature flew backward like weightless darkness.
The stag charged it, driving it away like a defeated bat.
"This way!" Harry shouted to the Patronus.
Then he turned and ran down the alley.
"Dudley! Dudley!"
After twelve strides he found him.
Dudley was curled on the ground, his arms shielding his face.
The second Dementor was crouched over him, gripping his wrists and lowering its hooded head toward Dudley's face.
"Get him!" Harry shouted.
The silver stag thundered past him.
Its antlers rammed the Dementor at the last second.
The creature was hurled through the air and dissolved into the darkness.
The stag reached the end of the alley and vanished in a cloud of silver mist.
The moon returned.
The stars shone once more.
The street lamps flickered back to life.
A warm breeze swept through the alley.
Cars could again be heard in Magnolia Crescent.
Harry stood frozen, every nerve trembling.
His shirt clung to him with sweat.
Dementors.
Here.
In Little Whinging.
Dudley lay on the ground muttering and shivering.
Harry bent over him to see whether he could stand, but suddenly he heard someone running toward them.
Instinctively he raised his wand and spun around.
Mrs. Figg, their elderly neighbor, came panting toward them.
Her gray hair was sticking out from beneath her scarf, a shopping bag swinging wildly from her hand.
Harry almost hid his wand from her—
But she shouted,
"Don't put it away, you foolish boy! What if there are more of them nearby?!"
To be continued...