Dudley Dursley and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 5 - Weasles and Walking Encyclopedias

Chapter 5 - Weasles and Walking Encyclopedias

    No other wands had been of any use to Dudley. Ollivander gave a final farewell, in the form of a boot to Dudley's fat behind, and Dudley and Hagrid took their leave of Diagon Alley after they bought his last item - a snow-white owl which turned out to be the very owl that had left its mark on Dudley that same morning. Apparently the owl was known to be violent (not to mention its poor choices for potty breaks) and was thusly released from its contractual obligations to the Daily Prophet. At least, that's what Dudley read on the owl's tag before it punished him for his nosiness.
    On their way back to Surrey on the train, Hagrid had explained to Dudley that he would need to board a train at Platform Nine and Three Quarters at King's Cross Station on September 1st, which meant Dudley would have to spend about two more months with his begrudging family.
    "Why can't I stay with you, Hagrid?" pleaded Dudley, who was terrified of how his return to Privet Drive would be.
    "I can', Dudley," answered Hagrid gruffly. "Students aren't allowed ter stay durin' the summer. 'Specially now tha' the Sorcerer's St-.... tha' the, er, thin's happenin'..."
    It wasn't as bad as Dudley expected however. Although the Dursleys were still sporting their pudgy, pink pig snouts and awaiting their opportunity for vengeance, when Dudley had appeared on their doorstep with a trunk full of screaming books (they had become loud because they suffocating within the confines of Dudley's trunk), an assortment of heavy and somehow intimidating objects like brass scales and telescopes, and a very frustrated and venomous owl, their fear of magic heightened to a new extreme. The months passed by slowly but without much of the usual persecution. The Dursleys seemed to be afraid of Dudley and his magical "instruments of torture" and treated him better than they had ever before. They even upgraded him from his dinky closet to the old dogshed in the backyard, which they had built for Aunt Marge's bulldogs whenever they came to town. Although Dudley wasn't actually able to fit in the dogshed, he was free to explore the entirety of the backyard, a definite improvement to being confined to his closet after curfue (4 PM) everday.
    He spent the next couple months alone in his backyard, for the most part, with his owl for company. He'd decided to call her Hedwig, which was a name he had found in his copy of A History of Magic. In the book, Hedwig the Hag was a renowned witch, infamous for her violent treatment of non-pure-bloods and her collection of shrunken heads and man-eating monsters. He thought the name fit his owl, who was keen to attack anything within a five foot radius of her.
    Meanwhile, Dudley passed the time reading his books, which were interesting despite the frequent derogatory remarks towards anything non-wizard (and obviously the books would repeat these sentences aloud when they came up). The history book, which had a rather dull personality, was the least interesting because it spent a great deal of time on the sordid politics of the 15th century wizard community. Despite the insane laws passed in this era, they failed to garner Dudley's attention because they hadn't been translated from their archaic wording. But his potions book contained a long list of hypnotic stews and droughts, though Dudley may have only been attracted to this book because some of the ingredients listed were edible. He had begun to ask for any ingredients that he thought his parents might keep in the kitchen, but it seemed that some juvenile youth might have visited the book in the store and wittingly written in it, because one of the ingredients made no sense. Ignorant as to what this object was, Dudley asked Aunt Petunia if they had any condoms in the house, which led to him being locked in the backyard for three days.
    One thing was lingering in the back of Dudley's mind, however. He was told that if he didn't arrive at Platform Nine and Three Quarters exactly on time, that he wouldn't be able to go to Hogwarts. But he didn't think his parents would take him to London willingly, especially when the neighborhood kids had taken to oinking at them as they passed by. However, when a week was remaining before September 1st, Dudley knew he would have to try his luck. So he approached Uncle Vernon after dinner as he sat in his armchair, digesting the meal.
    "Um, Dad?" asked Dudley timidly as he stepped in front of Vernon.
    Uncle Vernon averted his eyes and grunted, which might've meant he was listening.
    "I, uh, I need to - to go to, um, London next week," he stuttered, "to get to, to my school. Could you give me a ride?"
    Uncle Vernon grunted again, which must've meant yes. But right as Dudley was squeezing himself through the back door, Uncle Vernon spoke up.
    "I suppose there's some magic carpet rental waiting for you there? Sure it can hold you up?" he said, laughing at his own joke.
    "Um, no," said Dudley bashfully. "I think I take a train. Er, I just need to go to, uh, King's Cross Station to Platform Nine and Three Quarters."
    Uncle Vernon finally looked around at Dudley. "The hell?"
    Dudley looked at him. "Um, King's Cross. Platform Nine and Three Quarters? Um, it's on my ticket..."
    "Barkers! All of them! You just wait! Fine, I'll take you to London on Saturday (course, I should make you walk there and get some exercise!), but I'm droppin' you off and that's it! I'm not sticking around for you to come crying back to me when you can't find this ruddy platform!" He looked away from Dudley and added, "I'm going up to London then anyway, or I wouldn't bother."
    "Why are you going to London?" asked Dudley.
    "Gotta have these damn pig snouts removed. Petunia won't go out in public anymore, and none of my coworkers will take me seriously." He glared at Dudley a final time with a look that clearly meant he would like to hurt him. But, privately, Dudley didn't think that Uncle Vernon's coworkers had ever taken him too seriously with his seemingly expensive, foreign suits and talk of the fine life (after all, he merely worked in a factory line). But even as Uncle Vernon loved to treat Dudley as the butt of his jokes, Dudley was off to an extravagant school of wizardry while Uncle Vernon was far, far away from anything extravagant - he didn't even have a television!

    Saturday finally came, and the family found themselves driving toward London early in the morning. They stopped at the station named King's Cross and gave a farewell similar to Ollivander's. Uncle Vernon got out of the car and opened the trunk of the car; he grabbed all of Dudley's school stuff and threw it nonchalantly on the sidewalk for Dudley to gather. Dudley picked up all his stuff  and expected Uncle Vernon to get in the car and take off, but surprisingly, Uncle Vernon was standing next to him.
    "Now, let's just go and see about this Platform Nine and Three Quarters, sall we?" he said through gritted teeth. He was in a very humored mood, which heightened considerably when they approached the ticket booth and saw no such platform. But that didn't stop Uncle Vernon from asking.
    "Could you tell us where we could find one Platform Nine and Three Quarters?" he asked the lady behind the counter, the sarcasm in his voice just barely audible for Dudley to pick up. The lady looked confusedly at Uncle Vernon (and stared at his snout).
    "Um, I'm sorry, sir, but there is no Platform Nine and Three Quarters," she said. Uncle Vernon laughed and steered Dudley away from the booth.
    "Imagine that, boy! Your platform's gone missing!" he joked harshly. He shoved Dudley into the crowd to where Dudley dropped all his stuff. Uncle Vernon gave one last good-bye in the form of, "but maybe you can find it!" And he retreated to his car and drove away, all of them laughing.
    Dudley regathered his stuff and moved into the entering crowd hopelessly. Of course there was no Platform Nine and Three Quarters! If the train even existed, it would surely be off before Dudley found it. But Dudley nevertheless searched high and low for it. He fianlly came to where Platforms 9 and 10 were, directly besides each other and separated by a series of columns, but the columns were the only thing between them. No other platform existed. Had Hagrid forgotten to tell him something? Dudley looked around desparately but didn't know if he should ask any of the guards or passersby about his dilemma. But he couldn't find another way, so he began to ask a couple of guards (who were on their hourly doughnut break) where he could find a train to Hogwarts, but they only looked at him confusedly. Dudley asked anyone he could find who looked even slightly magical, but their answers were just as non-helpful. A trembling lady with a large hat and an opaque veil told him to stop talking violently. A dirty-looking man with a long goatee and brown robes ignored his question completely and asked Dudley if he would lend some toilet paper. Finally, when a elderly, gentle, white-bearded old man told him to follow the yellow-brick road, Dudley gave up and started making his way towards the exit, in tears. Right before he had a breakdown however, he heard a miraculous voice.
    "...packed with muggles and filth, of course..."
    Dudley spun around and searched for the speaker. It turned out to be a red-haired, plump woman who was addressing four boys and a litle girl. They were all dragging along trunks, just like Dudley's, and they had an owl, though this owl wasn't pecking at people's scalps like Hedwig was.
    Dudley turned his cart with his stuff in it around and approached the family.
    "Mum, can't I go?" asked the little girl sadly.
    "No, Ginny, I told you, you're not old enough yet," answered the mother.
    "Besides, Ginny, the giant squid attacks anyone who doesn't belong there," said one of the boys.
    "Imagine if a muggle turned up!" exclaimed a boy identical to the first. They looked as if they were twins, maybe a couple or so years older than Dudley.
    "Ah, the squid would rip it to shreds," said the first twin dreamily.
    "Where's Percy gone?" said the mother aloud. "Oh there you are, darling! Where did you go?"
    "Sorry mother," answered what looked like the oldest boy. "I just had to address one of these guards on their lax security. I saw a little boy standing up inside his mother's cart, and the sign clearly says not to do that! But of course, that muggle guard just let it slide like it was no big deal!"
    "Okay, okay, Percy," said the mother, regretful that she asked, "just go through the barrier, won't you?"
    "Of course, dear mother!" said the oldest boy pompously. He approached the series of columns, and Dudley was feverishly trying to avoid blinking so he wouldn't miss it, but right then Hedwig chose that time to start trying to peck Dudley's eyes out, and Dudley had to bend over and shield his face. When he looked back at the columns, the boy had disappeared. Desperately, Dudley looked around for the family, but they had disappeared too. Dudley let out a loud wail, which alarmed the people around him. But Dudley began running around everywhere, trying to find the family. At last he found one of the twins standing idly against a column, but Dudley accidentally blinked, and the boy was gone.
    "Noooooooo!" Dudley yelled, but it was no use. He started crying as he dragged his cart over towards one of the columns. Unable to do anything else, he sat down next to the column and leaned back against it.
    But he kept leaning back and he went right through the column and, before he could grab anything to keep himself upright, he was suddenly falling through a tunnel that seemed to be inside the column itself! He flailed his arms around and screamed but nothing happened except that same old man from earlier passed him by upwards, smiling and waving.
    Suddenly, and to his painful relief, Dudley landed hard on a concrete floor. He gasped and sat up and opened his eyes. He was in a another part of the station, yet somehow it looked different. The nearby train was a bright crimson and comprised about twenty or thirty compartments where hundreds of students were climbing onto. Many of them were wearing robes of multitudes of colors - minus magenta. They were carrying large trunks and some were holding cages that contained a wide range of animals, mostly owls or rats. A few of them were somewhat familiar to Dudley; he saw the blond, snobby boy bullying his mother for a larger allowance, and the sandy-haired boy, who was now talking to a tall black boy his age. Dudley also noticed that the youngest boy in the red-haired family, who were nearby Dudley, was the same boy from the bookstore. They all seemed to be saying their good-byes to friends and family; Dudley felt significantly idle at the moment.
    "I wish I had someone to give me a good-bye," thought Dudley.
    He looked around before he stood up, but just as he did, his trunk flew out of nowhere and crashed on top of him. Hedwig's cage came after it and made a dent in Dudley's head as it broke open and Hedwig escaped. She shrieked and promptly left a sticky farewell on Dudley's big blond scalp before soaring above the heads of the nearby crowd.
    A tall, thin, pale, and nervous-looking man emerged from the column behind Dudley where his trunk had flown from. Dudley turned to look at him and saw he was fumbling with his hands and shaking horribly (spilling the hot coffee he was clutching), as well as wearing a long robe with smelly stains under the arms. Atop his head was a large, purple turban that smelled strongly of garlic and had two bendy-straws poking out the back. He walked quickly forward but almost tripped over Dudley, whom he hadn't noticed at first. He leaped backwards.
    "Oh m-m-my god-d!" he exclaimed. "D-d-did those t-t-trunks belong-g-g to y-you!? I hope they d-d-didn't hurt y-y-you! They w-were in m-m-my way!" He broke down and kneeled before Dudley. "P-p-please d-don't hurt m-m-me! I'm sorry!"
    Dudley didn't know what to do with this strange man pleading before him, kissing the soles of his shoes. His head didn't even hurt terribly anymore. "It's okay," he said brightly. "I'm Dudley! Who are you?"
    B-b-bless you!" exclaimed the man, standing back up and taking a small, frightened sip of his coffee cup. "M-m-my name's P-p-professor Quirrel, the, um, D-d-defense Against the D-dark Arts teacher." His right eye was twitching horribly as he put out his hand for Dudley to shake. Just before Dudley shook hands however, a wierd sort of hiss came from somewhere behind Quirrel, though nothing existed but the column (though it seemed to be not altogether solid). Professor Quirrel let out a short yelp and did something strange. He took his coffee cup and lowered it behind his head so that one of the bendy-straws entered into it. He leaned over just a bit and the coffee poured through the straw.
    Quirrel took back the cup after a few seconds and opened his mouth to speak to Dudley, but a wretching noise came from the back of Quirrel's turban and a mean whisper was heard, just barely audible for Dudley to hear.
    "You idiot! That was my breathing tube!" it hacked and coughed.
    And Professor Quirrel let out a shriek and ducked into the crowd and disappeared.
    Dudley stood there, bewildered. Finally he grabbed his trunk and started moving towards the train and the crowd. He saw a sign overhead that read HOGWARTS EXPRESS and above it, a sign reading Platform Nine and Three Quarters - 11:00 AM. Dudley looked for a place to climb aboard, but the first few carriages he saw were packed. He was making his way through the crowd, and on his way passed the pudgy boy he had sat on in Diagon Alley.
    "Gran, I've lost my toad!" the boy cried.
    "Oh, Neville, not again," said the boy's powerful-looking grandmother. "Don't worry, we'll find him-" But right at that moment a large squished noise was heard where Neville stepped.
    Dudley moved on under the smoke emitting from the train. He finally found an empty compartment near the end where he stopped and hoisted his trunk into. But the compartment was about three feet off the ground, and try as he might, Dudley couldn't get either of his legs to reach that heighth. He tried to jump into it, but he merely fell against the side of the train, which teetered to the opposite direction dangerously.
    "Want a hand?" said a voice behind Dudley. It was one of the red-haired twins he'd seen before. Dudley looked around for the other, who was on the other side of him, poking Dudley's flab.
    "Yes, please," Dudley replied kindly.
    The twins called the rest of their family over, who gathered around Dudley and, together, tried to lift him up.
    "Remember, lift with your legs, not with your back!" cried the oldest boy, Percy.
    But they were unable to lift Dudley more than a foot above the ground. They made at least ten efforts, but Dudley was dropped onto the hard concrete each time.
    "This isn't gonna work," said one of the twins finally.
    "He's too fat," concurred the other.
    The mother scratched her head and then pulled out her wand. "Wands out then. Everyone join in! Wingardium Leviosa!"
    All the family repeated after her, and all but the youngest boy and girl were able to cast the spell. Dudley was scared at first, but the spell turned out to be a levitation spell. He was lifted off the ground and the family steered him inside the compartment. He got stuck midway through the entrance, but the twins kicked his butt through.
    "All better then?" asked the mother kindly to Dudley. He nodded and smiled, massaging his behind.
    "I must be off, mother," chimed the oldest boy. "The rest of the prefects and I are going to go patrol the compartments. The headmaster must be so gracious for us."
    "Yes, well, good luck then," said the mother, rolling her eyes. She left too, leading the daughter away. The youngest son fled as well, but the twins lingered behind just for a minute.
    "Don't think we introduced ourselves," said the first twin with a chuckle. "I'm George Weasley and this is my brother, Fred." Fred was laughing; they seemed to find Dudley amusing somehow.
    "I'm Dudley," said Dudley. Fred continuous laughter was starting to irritate him; he had already been embarassed about having to be lifted into his compartment. In an effort to impress, he continued "I'm Harry Potter's cousin!"
    The smiles on the twins' faces disappeared instantly.
    "Hell no," said Fred dramatically, and George laughed.
    "I am!" said Dudley, but the twins left and closed the door to his compartment. Dudley scooted towards the door on the bench he now sat on and put his ear against the window so he could hear outside better.
    "Guess what, Mum!" Fred was heard saying. "That fat kid, you know? He thinks he's Harry Potter's cousin!"
    The mother, who had been cleaning dirt off the youngest son's nose, looked suddenly at Fred with a small chuckle. "What? Of course he isn't."
    The other twin started laughing. "Oh yes, that's what he said."
    "Leaned over to us-"
    "Or rolled over, rather-"
    "Yeah, and the great behemoth started telling us about Harry Potter-"
    "His many chins wobbling furiously," concluded George.
    The mother looked concerned. "Poor dear, I wondered why he was alone. He must be a habitual liar."
    The young girl, Ginny, was jumping up and down and tugging at her  mother's robes. She pleaded, "Mum, can't I please go poke his belly!"
    "No, Ginny, that's rude!" replied the mother sternly.
    "There's always next year, Ginny!" said Fred.
    "You two be nice to the poor boy!" said the mother. At that moment, the train's whistle sounded and the remaining families, including the Weasleys, were scurrying towards the compartment entrances. "Behave yoursleves this year! And look after your brother!"
    "Mum, too many people love to give Percy swirlies, we can't do anything about that," replied George as they were hanging out at one of the compartment doors.
    "Not that we want to either," chimed in Fred.
    "I'm talking about Ron!" the mother cried as she lifted Ron into the compartment with the twins.
    "I love you mommy!" cried Ron in his girly voice with a youthful smile. Fred gave him a nuggie.
    "Don't worry, mum," said Fred with a yawn. "We'll look after Ickle Ronniekins."
    The train started speeding up as Mrs. Weasley shouted out her last good-byes. Then it was moving too fast and the tunnels of King's Cross became a blur. Dudley could no longer hear the Weasleys and settled back on his bench. It was a fairly comfortable train. There was a hallway at the back of his compartment which evidently ran all along the train. Dudley faced the windows of the hallway and saw occasional students moving along it. The pudgy boy, Neville, was walking along it, clutching his toad (which was now very flat and misshapen) before he saw Dudley through the window, shrieked, and ran back. Other students did not think much of Dudley when they glanced at him (though a few laughed at the sight of him), and went about their way, meeting with friends and toying with a wide range of magical objects. Percy walked past at one point, telling younger children off for running in the halls.
    But Dudley sat alone for the first ten minutes of the trip. None of the students stopped to enter his compartment; they did stop outside it, but only to gawk at Dudley, which resulted in Dudley shutting the blinds. After another five minutes, the noise in the halls had almost completely ceased. But suddenly the door opened and the smallest Weasley boy came slowly into the compartment. The door obstructed Dudley from view (with difficulty), so the boy thought it was empty at first.
    "Is anybody here? All the other compartments are full, and-" he said in his high voice as he walked in and noticed Dudley. "Oh, um, nevermind, I'm sure there's someplace else," he added sheepishly, evidently frightened of Dudley, and made to leave before Dudley cried out.
    "You can stay!"
    Dudley stood up with much effort, desparate to make a single friend on this train at least. Ron stopped for a second but kept moving slowly before Dudley reached around the door and pulled him in. Ron tumbled into a seat opposite Dudley.
    Dudley waited for Ron to say something, but he did not, so Dudley closed the door and sat back down with a thud. An awkward silence filled the room; Ron was petrified. Dudley didn't know what to say.
    "So... um, you're Ron?"
    Ron nodded and made an odd yelp that might've been an attempt at confirmation, or a plea for help. Dudley didn't say anything else, but about a minute later, Ron stopped staring at the ground and looked at Dudley, as if motivated by a sudden thought. "Are you Harry Potter's cousin?"
    Dudley nodded. "Yeah."
    Ron's eyes lit up. "Are you sure?"
    "Yeah. He was supposed to come here instead of me, but he didn't want to."
    Ron was in awe; the wizarding community was clearly fascinated with Harry Potter for some reason. "Why not?" Ron asked as he scooted down the bench to face Dudley.
    Dudley hesitated before continuing, "He's kind of a jerk." Ron appeared to be astonished, so Dudley began to tell of what it had been like living with his family. He started with some of his earliest recollections of the injustices Harry's existance had brought upon Dudley, which Ron heard while listening with undivided attention. After about twenty minutes, Dudley had finally arrived at the part where Hagrid began attacking them.
    "I've heard of him!" cried Ron. "My older brother, Fred, told me he'sd violent. He threw rocks at you!?"
    "I think they were supposed to be cakes," said Dudley. He continued his tale of how he went with Hagrid to Diagon Alley, but he skipped over some events such as Ollivander's shop and Uncle Vernon's supply of firearms; he didn't think Ron would be able to take these parts, as he was already trembling as if the events had happened to him.
    "Hagrid sounds scary," whispered Ron after Dudley had finished.
    "He is," said Dudley. "But he's also sort of nice." But he doubted Ron would survive a lesson with Hagrid.
    Dudley was more interested in hearing about wizards than talking about himself though. "Are all your family wizards?"
    "Yeah, I think so," replied Ron in his high voice, as he opened up his backpack, which Dudley noticed was rather beat-up and dirty. Now that he thought about it, Ron was wearing odd clothes, even compared to the other wizards Dudley had observed. Ron's hair was slightly unclean and his shirt and jacket both had holes and stains. His pants were worn and were too short for him, and his socks were mismatched. The soles of his sneakers were also coming off and missing shoelaces, which was a big problem considering that the shoes were much too big for his tiny feet.
    Dudley stood up just a bit to see what was inside Ron's backpack. Surprisingly, the pack was crammed full with stuff. He had all his schoolbooks, which were also aged a few rough years, in there along with several stuffed animals, many of which were patched up or dirty, and a pokemon lunchbox. There were many other things that Dudley couldn't make out entirely, like what appeared to be rolled up posters or game boards.
    Ron pulled out his colorful lunchbox (he also almost pulled out a teddy bear before deciding against it) before continuing. "Yeah, I think we used to have a second cousin or something that was an accountant, but Mum and Dad say not to talk about her."
    He looked at Dudley, who was still observing Ron, intrigued.
    "So what's your family like?" Dudley asked.
    Ron frowned slightly. "They're okay. I've got five older brothers though. I guess you saw Fred and George and Percy."
    "Yeah," said Dudley. "Fred and George weren't very nice to me."
    "They're okay. They like to make jokes and stuff," answered Ron. He hesitated before continuing, "Everyone thinks they're hilarious. I hope no one expects me to be as funny, 'cause I don't think I can be."
    He opened his lunchbox. Inside was a couple of unappealing sandwiches and a juicebox. Ron took the juicebox, but grimaced at the sandwich. Even Dudley didn't think he was hungry enough for one of them, which were emitting foul odors and making popping noises, as though the meat-like substance within the sandwiches was dying. Dudley gagged and pinched his nose. He opened his mouth to tell Ron to shut his lunchbox, but before he did, one of the sandwiches started singing.

    "We occupy your mouth
    With drainage pipe taste!
    Ignore our slimy texture
    Meat substitutes are great!
    We're very proud to state
    We've been collecting mold
    Since 1988!
    Our cousins are what clog your sink!
    Safe food is overrated!
    Thank God the meat industry
    Isn't well regulated!"   

    The sandwich prepared for its next verse, but Ron nonchalantly closed the lunchbox and stuffed it into his backpack.
    "That sandwich started singing!" Dudley cried. He'd seen some other objects talk by now, but it still caught him off-guard.
    Ron seemed a little confused. "Almost everything can talk in the magical world. Most things are too shy to though." He gave his backpack a kick. "I always tell my mum not to make those sandwiches, but she doesn't listen... not that she has time."
    He started staring out the window. Dudley frowned.
    "What do you mean?"
    "Well, I have two older brothers that have already left school - Bill and Charlie. Bill was Head Boy at Hogwarts and Charlie was Quidditch Captain. Now Percy's a prefect too, and like I said, Fred and George are real popular." Ron gave a deep sigh, but though his rant was clearly supposed to be dramatic, it was rather like listening to Alvin and the Chipmunks try to be sullen, his voice being so high. "You could say I have a lot to live up to, and even if I do do all those things, I wasn't the first. And you don't get anything new either, being the youngest. I have Bill's old robes and deodorant, Charlie's old wand and socks, Percy's old rat and underwear, and George's toothbrush.... and Ginny's old shoes. She outgrew them, but they're still not small enough for me."
    Ron was looking at the floor again, sad. Dudley, however, didn't see why Ron was so ashamed.
    "It's okay, Ron, I never have money either. My parents gave Harry an allowance and everything, but not me. And I don't even get Christmas presents! Or birthday presents! And this one time, Aunt Marge came over to our house and she gave Harry a scooter, but she didn't get me anything!"
    And the list went on. Dudley and Ron spent the next hour relating with each other's misfortunes. While they talked, the train carried them through fields and over rivers and past cows and all kinds of things in the country.
    Around lunchtime, a short, dumpy witch began pushing a trolley piled with sweets and chocolates down the hallway.
    "Anything off the trolley, dears?" the witch asked in a low mannish voice when she stopped outside their compartment. Her face was coated with chocolate residue and the leftovers of a particularly sticky batch of doughnuts. It was obvious the items on the trolley were captivating.
    Ron jumped up and opened the door, but the witch nearly ran him over as she drove the trolley inside and in front of Dudley; she knew who her best customer was likely to be.
    Dudley stood up and examined the cart. He had saved his gold from Gringotts for exactly this kind of thing. His eyes swam as he looked over thousands of candy brands he had never heard of. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Dubious Drooby's Fruity Tooties, Pickled Pumpkin Patties, Chocolate Hogs, Billy Willy's Bitchin' Bubble Gum, Worm-flavored Gummy Worms, Cavity Cakes, Licorice Wands, and many more different sweets were made unavailable after the witch departed their compartment. Ron sat down and looked enviously at Dudley, who was stuffing his face with Sinister Sally's Sugar-Coated Sugar Cubes. Dudley, who had been denied breakfast by the Dursleys, had eaten two tons of food before noticing Ron.
    "You can have some too," said Dudley with a smile. Ron fidgeted with his hands.
    "I don't know," he said. But Dudley insisted, and the two were soon happily devouring the mountain of food. If the train was sagging a little at this particular compartment before, it would be now.
    Soon Dudley had made his way to the Chocolate Hogs. He held it up. "What are these?"
    "Oh, the Chocolate Hogs? Yeah, you'll want to eat those fast."
    "How come?" asked Dudley as he unwrapped his first one.
    "Well they start off as piglets. That's when you want to eat them, before they grow up into warthogs. That's when they start to smell and get all hairy and stuff."   
    But it was evident that the hog was no good; it already was giving the familiar odors of Ron's sandwiches, so Dudley stuffed it under his seat and made to proceed to something else.
    "Wait!" said Ron. "What about your card?"
    He pointed at the hog's wrapper, which Dudley saw contained a laminated card with a familiar old man on it.
    "I saw this guy back at Diagon Alley! He told me to follow the yellow brick road..." said Dudley. The card read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
______________________
CURRENTLY HEADMASTER AT HOGWARTS

          Considered by many the most accomplished eccentric to grace the wizarding world,
          Professor Dumbledore is noted to have eluded capture by St. Mungo's sanity experts
          for over 60 years. His other accomplishments include his victory over Grindelwald in
          1945, his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood (8 of which violate international
          human rights acts), his nine victories at the Annual Magical Beard Awards (including
          his recent victory over a mortified Cornelius Fudge), and his work in alchemy with his
          almost equally eccentric partner Nicholas Flamel. Dumbledore enjoys the acclaimed
          British duo Wham! and also delights in such activities as rugby, Russian roulette, and
          "getting funky."

    Ron had opened his own hog and quickly devoured the squealing piglet as he looked over his card. He groaned.
    "Here, you can have this. I already have it," he said and he handed his card to Dudley.
    Dudley was engrossed in the Chocolate Hog cards, but Ron was more interested in showing Dudley the other wizarding sweets. Eventually, Dudley found a small box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
    "Be careful with those!" warned Ron as Dudley opened the package. "You never know what flavor those will be until you try them, and they're never ordinary."
    But Dudley found most of the beans to his liking. None of them were chocolate or any recognizable taste, but most weren't too wierd. He ate toast, soap, squirrel, potato chip, brick, hay, glue, and even deodorant. Dudley was halfway through his box when he heard a sickly retching sound. He looked at Ron, who was rubbing his tongue desperately with his sleeve. On the floor infront of him lay his box, spilling an assortment of beans all colored hues of brown, yellow, pale, or combinations thereof. Dudley picked up one of the beans and licked it and then gagged. It tasted like athlete's foot!
    That's exactly what it was, as it turns out. On the back of Ron's box read a list of perverse flavors like toe fungus, gutter, toilet, mold, rot, dust, underarm, snot, and buttocks.
    After Ron stopped convulsing, they started talking about Hogwarts. Ron, who knew much about the school from what he had been told by his older twin brothers, was relaying the information to Dudley, whose face grew whiter by the minute.
    "There's some kind of test that decides which House you're in," Ron said when Dudley inquired about the Houses. "I don't know what it is, but Fred said something about wrestling a troll and George said everyone who doesn't pass gets fed to the squid."
    "That's horrible!"
    Eventually the conversation turned to the animals that students were bringing.
    "Do you have an animal?" asked Ron.
    "Yeah, an owl," said Dudley, "but she's scary."
    Ron held up his rat. "Well, this is Scabbers, my rat... Well, at least, my family calls him Scabbers. He only responds to 'Peter' though, for some reason."
    Ron watched Scabbers sniff around on the seat beside him for a minute when he had a sudden idea. He pulled out his aged, old wand and grabbed Scabbers and held him out to Dudley. "Hey, wanna see a trick?"
    "A trick?"
    "Yeah, a magic trick," said Ron. "Fred told me how to do it. Here, hold Scabbers."
    But right as Dudley received Scabbers, the door slid open and a girl poked her head in. She had brown, bushy hair and an air of superiority, which was in tune with her contemptful voice.
    "Pardon me," she said with obvious sarcasm, "but a boy's lost a toad, so keep an eye out for it. It's ugly and rather misshapen and-" She stopped abruptly when she noticed that Ron had hsi wand out. "Oh, you're doing magic!" She entered and sat down on Dudley's side of the compartment, but at a distance. "Go on, let's see then!"
    Ron seemed surprised, but slowly tore his gaze away from the girl and said nervously, "Um, yeah, okay, it was something like this."
    He cleared his throat.

"Abra cadabra! Alakazam!
I do not like green eggs and ham!
Instead feed my rat, a fine fickle fellow
Fructose and glutose! Turn my pet yellow!"

    And he did an extra jab with his wand, but nothing happened to Scabbers. A few seconds passed before the girl looked up at Ron and broke into a loud fit of laughter. Unbeknownst to Ron, his face had turned a postively radiant shade of golden yellow.
    The girl howled with laughter as she opened the door of the compartment and left ("What a moron!"). Even Dudley started laughing feebly.
    "What's wrong? Why's she laughing?" cried Ron. But Dudley was now laughing harder than ever.
    The girl had evidently spread the news, for soon a crowd of students had gathered outside their compartment and laughed at Ron, pointing at him through the windows. Dudley stopped laughing when this occured because he felt sorry for Ron, who obviously did not get what the commotion was about. Soon Fred and George passed by and saw Ron. They broke into howls of laughter and George mouthed to Ron "your face."
    Ron just stared for a minute before comprehension dawned on his face. He reached his hand and touched his cheek.
    "Is my face yellow?" he asked Dudley quietly.
    "Yeah," answered Dudley sadly, "and so is your hand now."