Thanks to the people who reviewed/followed/etc! This one is... well it's much longer. A lot more happened to Dudley this summer than the previous few, and I think it's the start of his character growth. (not saying the growth actually happened in this book, just... you know why don't I just get on with the chapter?)

Dudley was not having a good year. For the first time in his life, getting in trouble for bullying actually had consequences. Usually they just called his parents, but his teachers, now somewhat wiser to the fact that that didn't change anything, had started to assign more detentions and take away more of his school privileges. After a lifetime of being above the rules, he thought this was the worst thing that could possibly ever happen. But then The Nurse came along. Dudley had always considered himself large and in charge, but The Nurse seemed to think he was just large. Worse, the school wardrobe seemed to agree with her assessment.

He had to squeeze himself into the largest uniform Smeltings had to offer and oh his classmates laughed. Laughed! At him! He had to show some of them who's boss, which led to more detentions, more stupid lines, and even some time with the stupid school counselor who went on about everyone deserving fair treatment and the stupid Golden Rule. As if all that wasn't bad enough, he tried to take on some of the older kids he had previously allied with who had laughed at him and sported a big black eye for a solid week.

Finally - finally! - he was going him for the summer, where he wouldn't have to put up with such nonsense anymore. As usual, they picked up his cousin on the way home and found the boy, as usual, laughing with his friends. As he turned to the Dursleys, the smile faded, per usual, but didn't fade entirely. That was new. There was a new spring to his step as he walked toward them, clutching an envelope. Just like last year, his companions watched him walk away, this time with a slight smile on their faces.

"I wonder if maybe I should talk to his family...?" said an older woman with red hair.

"I don't know that that's wise," her husband murmured back. "We don't know the whole situation."

"Don't worry," said the boy about his own age. "I think he'll be alright this summer."

Dudley turned from the strange family, not wanting to hear any more.

"What's that?" his father asked, indicating the envelope in the boy's hand. "If it's another form for me to sign, you've got another —"

"It's not," the boy interrupted cheerfully. Irritatingly cheerfully - had Dudley ever even seen him actually cheerful before? It was weird to see that expression up close. "It's a letter from my godfather."

Dudley blinked. His cousin had family? Family other than the Dursleys? Why had they been stuck with him then?

His father must have been thinking the same thing. "Godfather?" he sputtered. "You haven't got a godfather!"

"Yes, I have," said his cousin brightly. "He was my mum and dad's best friend. He's a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of wizard prison and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though… keep up with my news… check if I'm happy…"

Horror dawned on Dudley as the boy grinned at them. He looked at his father for reassurance, but wasn't particularly reassured by the matching horrified look on his face. His cousin's happiness was too genuine for this to be a ruse. Reluctantly, Dudley climbed into the car with the rest of his family.

Dudley had been hoping that this summer would be a reprieve from had been happily thinking of the welcome home feast his mother would prepare and a summer full of his favorite foods without the stupid harpy of a school nurse trying to tell him what he should and shouldn't eat (not that he ever followed her advice anyway). He was in for a hell of a shock. The minute he got home, his summer went from bad to worse.

He dutifully handed over his end of the year report to his parents, secure in the knowledge that nothing the report said could seriously affect him. He was wrong.

Those last few comments from that stupid nurse sent his world into a tailspin. His mother, horrified that at the nurse's dire health warnings, had decided to put him on a diet. A diet! Well he'd just see about that! His mother could never stand to see him upset, so he cried. She remained unmoved.

He cried harder, screaming at the top of his lungs. his mother didn't give in. How could she not give in? Didn't she see how much pain she was causing him? She was supposed to love him. She was supposed to do everything she could to make him happy. Didn't she know?

Dudley refused to back down. He screamed abuse at her - how could she do this to him? Oh sure, she cried about it, but he paid no mind. If she really cared, she wouldn't just cry; she would give him what he wanted. Anyone could cry. He made himself sick, hoping to show her how terribly she was treating him. Nothing worked. He threw things against the wall in a rage, breaking them. She tearfully told him that he was still going on a diet. This only made him angrier - she was responsible for the possessions he broke. If she would just give in, he wouldn't have to keep breaking his things.

Nothing worked, but Dudley remained convinced that he just needed to yell harder, cry more, and break more things. His parents had never denied him anything he really wanted, so he figured they just didn't know how badly he wanted this. When nothing worked he grew baffled and more than a little scared. What was happening? As this looming diet became more and more plausible, Dudley started to imagine his summer eating carrot sticks while watching his hateful cousin eat his share of bacon. He imagined watching his father and his newly cheerful cousin eating cake together, laughing at Dudley with his celery. This couldn't happen.

But no matter how much he raged, nothing worked. This was the first time his parents had denied him anything. Between Harry's newfound godfather and his parents' starving him as if he were his cousin, the foundation of Dudley's world began to crack.

But Dudley was running out of possessions to break, and sick of making himself sick. Finally, after his mother promised him that everyone in the house would follow the diet too ("See Diddykins? We'll all do it. We wouldn't make you eat something we wouldn't, Popkin.") Dudley had no choice but to follow the diet.

It was horrible. Dudley had never had to do something he didn't want to do (other than homework and going to the dentist, but he was well rewarded for those) and a summer full or carrots and grapefruit was nothing short of torture. He eyed the table and saw his dad grumpily eating his breakfast, his mother eating hers with forced enthusiasm, and his cousin eating his (thankfully much smaller portion) without a care in the world.

As if the diet wasn't bad enough, the boy's unconcerned good cheer was a constant source of irritation and bemusement. It was bad enough that the boy now enjoyed relative freedom almost on par with Dudley himself, but to see the boy so irritatingly cheerful when Dudley was so miserable was intolerable.

It was with some relief that he heard his father bark out a gruff order to the boy to follow him into the living room. Finally things were getting back to their natural order! His mother's face grew pinched as she flitted around the kitchen, clearly worried about what was going on in the other room. Dudley waited a moment, then slid off the chair to follow them and listen in. All he heard were low murmurs and the occasional raised voice.

"...normal way?"

More murmurs, then a sudden outburst.

"You stand there, in the clothes Petunia and I have put on your ungrateful back -"

"Only after Dudley finished with them!"

"I will not be spoken to like that!"

Dudley grinned. This was more like it. He leaned in further, but much to his disappointment, the voices quieted down again to murmurs. He was just about to lean in further when the door opened to reveal a disturbingly cheerful Harry.

"That was an excellent breakfast, wasn't it?" said the boy. "I feel really full, don't you?"

Dudley was so caught off guard he had no answer, not even the violent "no" his stomach would have replied with. What the hell just happened? Where was the dressing down? Why was his cousin so cheerful? Dudley hadn't gotten his way all summer, so how was the boy managing? He peered around the corner to see his father looking rather gruff.

"What're you up to, son?"

Dudley shrugged, trying to look unconcerned, his eyes scanning his father's hand for the offending letter. "Nothing."

His dad mumbled something incoherent and made his way to the kitchen. Torn between asking about the letter and his fear of asking about it (he remembered all too well that happened the last time someone sent a letter to his cousin that got his father angry), Dudley settled for following his father into the kitchen.

His mother's head was inside the oven. Most people might be concerned about that, but long experience with his mother and had taught him that was par for the course, especially when the boy was involved. Sure enough, her head reappeared as soon as they walked in. She straightened, sponge still in her big yellow glove encased hand. "Vernon? What is it? What's happened?"

"There was a letter for the boy," said his dad.

His mother started scrubbing the sparkling clean counter tops as if her very existence depended on it. "A letter? For him?"

His father grunted. "Seems one of his friends wants to have him spend the rest of the summer with them." He cleared his throat. "I've decided to let him. They will arrive here tomorrow to pick him up."

His mother looked at his father wide-eyed for a moment as some sort of understanding passed between them. She then resumed her fastidious scrubbing. Dudley felt a lead ball of fear lodge itself in the pit of his stomach. It was the most full his stomach had been all summer.

His parents were tense. Scared, even. Dudley wanted to dismiss all of his fears, wanted to dismiss the memories of Aunt Marge expanding like a giant helium balloon, and he certainly wanted to remove the humiliating memory of the terrifyingly unsettling sensation of a pig's tail growing out of his bum, but the tenseness in the air make that near impossible.

All too soon, it was time. Dudley couldn't ever remember being so scared. He had no idea where to put himself or what to do with himself. The clock ticked slowly, tortuously, past 5, until "ARRRGGGHHH!" He briefly relived the sensation of the pigs tail poking out of his trousers and Aunt Marge blowing up as he realized he wanted to be anywhere but in the same room with one of them. Panting, but safely ensconced in the kitchen, Dudley jumped, gripping the table tightly just in time for the loud BANG. Thumping footsteps echoed past the kitchen door and Dudley suddenly realized nowhere was safe from these...freaks, but he might be safer with his parents around. Shaking with fear and careful not to present the same target to the enemy as last time, he slid into the room and walked sideways towards his parents, hoping no one would see him.

No such luck. The flaming red haired man spoke as he tried to hide behind his parents.

"Ah, this is your cousin, is it, Harry?" asked the man.

Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Dudley fought back a whimper as he looked around the room, clutching his backside to prove to himself that it was still in tact... still normal. The man had blown up his house!

"Yep," said the boy, "that's Dudley."What if he was bitter against decent, normal people? What if the man's freakishness made him jealous of him and his family? His family hadn't done anything to this man and he'd already blown up their house!

"Having a good holiday, Dudley?" asked the man.

Dudley couldn't hold in his whimper as he glanced around the destroyed room. Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail Pigs tail.

A pair of twins came down the stairs carrying his cousin's trunk. Like the red headed man and the other boy, Dudley recognized them from the train station. They were almost to the fireplace (Dudley didn't even want to think about that) when one of the twins dropped a pocketful of brightly colored wrappers. Dudley had tunnel vision. This was everything he had been denied this summer, and those freaks had it. They had pockets full! Dudley watched with jealous eyes as the twin scrambled after each brightly colored sweet. He then got up and waved to them cheerily - why were these freaks always so bloody cheerful when he was miserable? - and disappeared up the... up the fireplace.

Dudley looked away, not particularly interested in seeing that happen again with the other twin when something caught his eye. A single brightly colored sweet lay on the floor, forgotten. He glanced at the red haired family just as the younger boy shared a grin with his cousin (which would have been a bizarre sight if he had been paying any real attention to it) and stepped up to the fireplace.

Dudley's eyes zeroed in on the sweet again. With a furtive look to his parents, he made sure that no one was looking at him before he dived to the ground. It was unwrapped and in his mouth in the blink of an eye. Toffee. He hadn't had toffee all summer. He closed his eyes in bliss, only dimly aware of the conversation going on around him.

"Harry said good-bye to you. Didn't you hear him?"

"It doesn't matter," his cousin muttered in response. "Honestly, I don't care."

Dudley's throat felt tight. Was he having an allergic reaction?

"You aren't going to see your nephew till next summer," the man said to his father. "Surely you're going to say good-bye?"

Dudley fell to his knees, feeling as if he was going to be sick as the sensation of something forcing itself out of his throat came upon him. It continued, growing and swelling in the back of his throat until he gagged as he watched a slimy pink... thing erupt from his mouth. He heard his mother scream for a moment before throwing herself at him, grabbing his tongue (his tongue? No way was that slimy thing... bloody hell!) and try to wrench it out of his mouth. Dudley let out a guttural, incoherent cry of pain and indignation, which only made his mother throw herself on him, sobbing harder, suffocating him as she pulled harder. Now truly panicked that he might suffocate to death (assuming he didn't choke to death) he fought her off as best he could while his tongue continued to grow, the taste of carpet and wooden coffee table mixing strangely in his mouth. He was only dimly aware of the ruckus going on around him (pottery crashing to pieces against the wall. "Now really! I'm trying to help!").

Dudley would have given anything to be able to tell his mother to stop, but without the use of his tongue, he was relegated to incoherent grunting, which only served to make his mother tug harder. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even tell his mother to stop. In fact, he couldn't do more than ineffectually try to fight off his mother. His sheer powerlessness was terrifying.

He heard several loud bangs, then a "LET ME HELP!" from the red haired man.

His parents stopped moving, both white faced, their eyes darting from the wand to Dudley. The man slowly approached. "Dudley, I'm going to shrink your tongue back to its normal size, okay?"

Pale and trembling, Dudley nodded, slowly. As terrified has he was of that thing, he was even more terrified of choking to death on his own tongue. The man said some nonsense words and Dudley flinched. He heard his mother shriek and his father gasp, as Dudley's tongue shrank back to its original size. Silence followed. Dudley collapsed back, taking in deep, shuddering breaths. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. When he took in a few gulps of oxygen and ran his tongue around his mouth to make sure it was really okay, he stood up on trembling legs and ran all the way to his bedroom closing and locking the door behind him.