MrPlotThickens
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Second Chances [The Dudley Story] 14 - The Mockery & The Offer
🕑 Added 2025-02-01 18:37:30 +0000 UTC[A/N: This chapter does not have smut elements. It didn’t feel right that Dudley would go back to shagging girls after the World Cup incident.]
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"...my father, a man who lived life as he saw fit. He was… present, in his own way, and carried himself with a certain determination, be it right or wrong…"
All this money. Two lives. How was I so blind? Why didn't I do anything about it? I could have bought an army to protect myself if…
Raindrops tapped on his coat-covered shoulders as he stood before Vernon's casket, reading an eulogy. It felt as if even the sky was mocking his folly. So what if he had all that money when his death was still a mere flick of a wand away?
"People knew him. He had routines, beliefs, and experiences that shaped his life and mind. He worked, he spoke, he existed, and now he rests. I suppose that is the way of things. May he find peace in what lies next. We will remember him… Thank you."
It was an extremely stiff eulogy, lacking any personal touch or feelings. Even Dudley's face remained plain, unchanged, with no tears, no frowns, unaffected as if. He finished reading, folded the paper, and placed it in his pocket, stepping back.
He couldn't just act as if Vernon was a saint. The man had mistreated a baby, a toddler, a kid for years. There was certainly hell awaiting for the man if there was one. But Dudley knew this wasn't how Vernon deserved to go.
It was Lucius. It’s definitely him.
Dudley had come to that conclusion after thinking about it a lot. Vernon's body had no injuries, not even the ones that came from falling onto the ground. For a man of Vernon's size, falling on the hard ground had to leave bruises behind. But there was none, and the muggle verdict was that he died from a heart attack.
He raised his head and watched the casket being lowered into the prepared grave. He looked around at the dozen or so figures who had come over. Not just muggles but a lot of wizards—Hufflepuff’s head of the house, Hannah with her parents, Susan with Madam Bones, Sirius, Lily, Harry, Grangers, Weasleys, and even Dumbledore were there.
Petunia was a mess, crying uncontrollably. Thankfully, Vernon's elder sister, Marjorie was there to handle her.
Eventually, the grave was filled with soil.
"Take Mum home," Dudley ordered his aunt Marjorie and stayed behind, watching people pay respects one last time, come over to him, pat his shoulder, say how sorry they were, and leave.
First to leave were most of the muggles, mostly Vernon's colleagues. Then came wizards, Dumbledore first with Professor Sprout.
"Dudley!" Susan embraced him in a hug, her eyes more tearful than his own. Then came Hannah, and eventually they also left. The last ones to leave were Harry, the Grangers, and the Weasleys.
But for some reason, Lily had stayed behind. She approached him last and hugged him. To her, he responded, knowing she was the only person who knew the truth about him. The truth to why his eulogy lacked emotions.
"What will you do?" She asked.
Dudley studied her face for a moment, then let out a small sigh. "What gets me is that I don’t feel anything. I know I should, but it’s like my memories and emotions are distant, like they’re not really mine. I can’t fake it, not when all I can do is overthink it—so, yeah. Nothing. I won’t do anything."
"You don't feel anything?" she asked, her eyes revealing genuine worry.
"Oh, I feel plenty—anger, disappointment, even rage. But I’m not about to let them see me lose my head. That’s what they want, isn’t it? For me to throw a fit like some child. No, I’ll handle this my way, in my own time. Whatever happens, Vernon was my Dad, and he was murdered. There’s only one way this ends."
"They?" Lily reached for his shoulder. "Who? I thought he was…"
"Leave it… You’ve got enough to deal with." Dudley pushed her hand away, his expression uneasy. He had not an ounce of confidence in their competence. If the world-famous Dumbledore couldn't do anything, there was no hope. "Don’t go thinking I’ll be leaping into your battles, waving a flag. I meant what I said—I want no part in this, not with you, not with that Dark Lord. I'll do what's necessary for my own… and Mum's survival."
"You're angry, Dudley."
“No kidding.” Dudley huffed and waved his hand to his car driver in the distance. "I'll be home by night. Do me a favor and try to stay near Mum. I don't have the necessary emotional connection with her to calm her down. Only you know what she's probably feeling like."
Lily had already planned on doing that, so she simply nodded. "Take care, Dudley. Try not to do anything reckless."
"I know."
He walked straight to his company car and headed to his workplace. Only three days were left until the start of 4th year at Hogwarts so he didn't really have a lot of time to put things in motion.
It was raining profusely that day, the traffic making Dudley crazy. He still couldn't Apparate so the frustration grew. But he kept himself calm, having faced a lot more stress than this in his past life. Sadly, none of those were life-threatening like this one.
On top of that, there was no smartphone that he could use to plan his next steps. The tools he needed were only available at the company.
"Mr. Dursley, we’ve arrived." The driver parked the car in front of the D&D Capital's building.
"It's alright." Just as the driver was about to get out and hold an umbrella, Dudley took out his wand and tapped it on himself, drying his clothes. "You can go have lunch."
The driver was a squib. A son of two muggle-born wizards who had died during the previous Voldemort rising. With no inherited wealth to depend on and being a young orphan, his life wasn't a piece of cake. Forced to live a life between wizards and muggles, the man struggled to thrive in both. Without a wizarding education, or a higher muggle education, forced to remain a low-level blue-collar worker. That was until Dudley hired him.
Thankfully, the squibs were registered in the Ministry and it was easy to find men who hated Voldemort from the heart. But still, Dudley only looked for those who had families to care for, hence a lot more to lose by betraying him.
But now, Dudley had realized that money wasn’t enough of a motivator. A squib would instantly betray him if his family was threatened by the Dark Lord. No, he needed enough strength to make all those working for him feel secure even against the Dark Lord.
He got out of the car and ran into the office building. With the ground floor acting as a nice, cozy, picturesque cafe, and the second floor being an upscale restaurant, he went to the elevator and punched for the top floors. D&D Capitals had expanded and now employed more than a hundred people, highly qualified and paid. Heck, hiring was still open.
Ding!
He walked out and passed the reception desk. As he continued to walk past the cubicles and cabins, almost all of the employees stood up as if shocked to see him there. They knew about his loss.
Dudley simply nodded at whoever greeted him and walked right into Edwin Hughes' corner office. The man was Senior Associate, Finance, and also the CFO of the company, second in command to Dudley.
"I'll get back to you." Edwin noticed Dudley's arrival and quickly ended his call and stood up. "You don't need to be at work toda—"
Dudley walked up to the table and took a seat, his face more serious than ever. "Do you have a world map here?"
"We should." Edwin walked over to the right side of the room where a wide cabinet was. He opened one of the drawers and took out a rolled, big map of the world. Since D&D was heavily invested in real estate, they had detailed, large maps of almost every major country and continent.
Quickly, Edwin unrolled the map on his table, knowing something big was headed his way.
Quickly, Dudley grabbed a magnifying glass and began looking around on the map, mostly off the western coast of Africa. "How many MPs do we have?"
"Reaching two hundred," Edwin answered.
"Are we close to the Prime Minister's office?"
"As one of Britain's top five, we are. But it rather depends on what you seek from them—some can be dreadfully rigid," Edwin answered, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. "What are we looking for?"
"Islands," Dudley said, at last, settling on a choice. "I'd like to buy islands from the British government. Starting with this one."
"Let me see." Edwin fixed his square-rimmed glasses and leaned closer to the map. "Saint Helena and Dependencies… Wait, isn't that the island where N—"
"Napoleon's grave rests, it is." Dudley interrupted, "I don't want to own this exclusively as private property. But I'd like to lease it for… let's say, fifty years."
"Why?"
"Personal reasons," Dudley replied and then pointed at another island further south. It was the most isolated island in the world. A remote, volcanic island from the Tristan da Cunha group. He wanted the largest one with Queen Mary's Peak. "And this one. I want these two at all costs."
Edwin scratched his head in confusion. As far as he knew, the two islands barely had any natural resources and they weren't even important enough to create military bases. They were just… islands.
"Can I ask again, why?"
"Private holiday islands. You can call it that, Edwin. I can't share the details but just know, it's extremely important for me. Important enough to put my life on the line."
"A bit dramatic, wouldn’t you say? They’re just islands. Hmm… A discreet approach would be far preferable—can’t have Westminster up in arms over this," Edwin murmured, swiftly crunching the numbers. "Pricey, no doubt, but feasible. The second island in particular—an active volcano, of all things."
"Thank you." Dudley stepped back from the map. "Might be wise to push a bit harder on gaining influence in government. Tony Blair looks set to stick around, so best to put some backing behind him. Quietly, though—no need to make a fuss. On the Conservative front, see if we can get David Cameron to owe us a favor or two, but keep it discreet. As for America, a bit of investment in George W. Bush wouldn’t go amiss—just don’t go overboard. Best to keep things balanced."
“Oh? Name-dropping now? Careful, Dudley—you’re starting to sound like an oracle.” Edwin quipped, a hint of amusement in his tone. Still, there was no denying the truth of it all. Nearly all of Dudley’s ventures had yielded record-breaking returns. “I’ll follow your lead. Anything else?”
"For now, nothing." Dudley sat back in the chair and relaxed a little. "How did your daughter's school admission go? How old is she? Twelve? Fourteen?"
"Oh, she's fifteen. Seems I needn't have ‘invested’ in those private institutions after all—secured her place at a top school entirely on her own merit." Edwin proudly proclaimed while rolling up the map. "Proud of my Sophie."
"Which school?"
"Oh, it's an old school. You wouldn't know its nam—"
That's the same pitch that Vernon gave to his colleagues. Dudley frowned and decided to take a shot.
"Hogwarts?"
"..."
The rolled map fell from Edwin's hands.
"Hah!" Dudley chuckled. "I was right?"
"But you… I'm not supposed to…"
"That explains why I’m often so out of reach, doesn’t it?" Dudley tried to clear up the doubts. "Please, take a seat. I suppose I can share a few things and offer some advice. Magic isn't that magical, just to be clear."
Eyes wide, Edwin grabbed a seat beside Dudley. "You're a wizard too?"
"Ten points to... Ah, she hasn’t been sorted yet. Well, when you go home, perhaps you might suggest to your daughter that she choose either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff when the Sorting Hat ceremony comes. The other two, well, Slytherin, unfortunately, tends to attract those with rather extreme views, much like the Nazis. Gryffindor, on the other hand, is full of impulsive risk-takers, and that can sometimes lead to danger. And trust me, I could go on about the magical government and the Dark Lord, but that’s another matter entirely…"
Dudley gave a quick crash course on the magical world and its history to Edwin. From the early wizards to Grindelwald, the rise of Voldemort and his end, and now his return, ending with Vernon's death.
Simple enough, all the flowery visions of the wizarding world that Edwin had, had vanished. Instead, he feared for his daughter.
"M-My Sophie will be targeted?"
"Well, she is a Muggle-born like me, so yes. But as long as she stays away from Slytherin and Gryffindor, she’ll be all right. I’m four years senior, so I’ll make sure to keep an eye on things for her." Dudley gave a reassuring pat on Edwin's shoulder. "Now you understand why I’m after those islands. They’ll be my refuge. My father’s death has really opened my eyes. To those blood purists, it doesn’t matter how much wealth I acquire. They simply don’t understand how to live with any decency."
Edwin sat in silence, staring at his feet, likely doubting his decision.
"Don't overthink it, Edwin. If she doesn't go to wizarding school and learn to control her powers, things could spiral out of control. Being an Obscurial is terribly dark and painful—it's a fate worse than death, really."
So there was a cliff on one side and a well on the other. Edwin sighed and nodded.
"Thank you, Dudley. I must admit, it’s a lot to take in. The letter barely said anything and we were excited about it. I’ll do my best to prepare both my daughter and wife mentally for what’s ahead. Once again, I appreciate everything you’ve done—if there’s anything further I can assist with, don’t hesitate to let me know. I can see now why you were so insistent on coming here today." Edwin gave his boss a quick hug. "I'll pray for your father's soul to rest in peace."
"You're religious?" Dudley asked back.
"I wasn't until I saw Sophie performing accidental magic," Edwin replied and made a silent prayer, gripping the cross pendant on his neck.
Dudley chuckled and got up, starting to leave. "That's… odd."
"Why?"
Dudley grabbed the door handle and grinned back, knowing his next words were going to make Edwin question his existence. "Well, it's quite possible that Jesus was a Muggle-born wizard as well. A remarkably powerful one, I guess."
"..."
Thud!
Dudley left.
####
The following three days were depressing. The air inside the home was of melancholy and helplessness. Vernon was not a perfect man to many but to Petunia he was perfect. His demise marked a major change in Petunia's life. With no parents to rely on, Petunia had to live in that house all alone with Dudley at school.
For the first time, she realized that money couldn’t buy happiness. Thanks to her son, she didn't need to go out and work. But that didn't make her merry.
Thankfully, Lily was a master potioneer and had just the things to calm Petunia down and make her think logically. To her, Vernon's death was from a natural cause and that was all she needed to know.
"Please take care of yourself, Dudley." Petunia hugged him in the driveway before he left for the station. "You're all I have left."
He hugged her back, holding her there for a moment.
"Don't worry, Mum. I'll be safe."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched Dudley sit in the car. She waved and continued to do so until the car vanished in the distance.
This time, she felt scared of entering her house.
Scared of the solitude.
For some reason, she wondered if this was what Harry felt like all those years.
That mere thought crushed her in regrets.
####
I don't like this.
Dudley felt all eyes on him as he entered the Great Hall for dinner and the sorting ceremony. All the murmurs and faint giggles directed at him made him feel nauseous. But he still strode in tall and took a seat between Susan and Hannah, his usual spot.
Even the teachers. He noticed the eyes from the teachers' table.
"Dudley."
Yet, he felt calm. Susan on his left and Hannah on his right, both girls gripped his hand under the table, their thighs pressed into him as if trying to make him feel warm and cozy.
"Oh, come on, don’t sulk like that. I’m not sad—just a bit cross, really." Dudley gave their hand a gentle squeeze. "Besides, this year’s going to be exciting."
"How?" Susan asked.
"You'll know soon."
Finally, the Sorting ceremony started. One after another the names went by and eventually, Dudley heard Sophia Hughes. His ears perked up, and he glanced at the young brown-haired girl, excited and nervous at the same time.
"Ravenclaw!" The Sorting hat shouted.
Better than Slytherin and Gryffindor.
Dudley waved at the girl as she passed by his table. She waved back, gleeful almost.
"Who is she?" Hannah inquired.
"My CFO's daughter. She's a muggle-born and her father was a little worried. Well, Ravenclaw is good." He stopped worrying and looked forward to Dumbledore's announcement. But then dinner appeared on the table and everyone began eating.
When's he going to announce it?
He began devouring food too: meat, bread, beans, and puddings. Slowly, as the last of crumbs vanished from the plates, Dumbledore arose and stepped to the podium.
Here it comes.
"Now that we are fed and watered, I must ask once more for your attention while I give out a few notices." Dumbledore started with the basic briefing. Such as Filch's ever-growing list of forbidden objects that now stood at 437. Then Dumbledore warned about the Forest before coming back to the main event.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year. This is due to an event that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy, but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
Murmurs rose across the hall. Students who knew what it was shouted in excitement and explained it to their friends. But it was not needed as Dumbledore continued to explain.
"You knew about this?" Susan questioned, squeezing Dudley's thighs now instead.
Dudley raised his hands in surrender. "I may or may not have known."
Hannah squeezed his thigh too. "Are you going to participate?"
"What? No way! I've already got a great big target on me as it is. I’ve no interest in making it any bigger. Besides, let Dumbledore talk. It’s not like I could join in even if I wanted to."
And just then, Dumbledore finished explaining. Simple to say that not many were happy with only the 7th year allowed to participate in the tournament.
"See." Dudley shrugged and finished his pudding.
“The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be staying with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us… rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop Chop!”
Dumbledore finished speaking and dismissed all the students.
Dudley got up with a yawn and walked with Susan and Hannah. He really wanted to take them to his dorm room and cuddle with them. He was in no mood for sexual gratification, and for now, he just wanted warm hugs.
"Hah, look at him go, shameless as always."
That particular snarky voice caught his attention just as he exited the Great Hall and entered the hallway. There on the side stood Draco with his usual gang, all of them sneering at Dudley.
This bastard. Dudley wondered if Draco knew about what Lucius did.
"I was there when it happened," Draco drawled, his laughter sharp and cruel, loud. "He couldn't even run—too fat, wasn’t he? Hah! Fell flat on his face, and guess what? The great lump croaked from a heart attack! The only one to die, and not from anything impressive—just his own weight! Utterly pathetic, haha!"
He knows something. Dudley had ensured the Daily Prophet didn't write anything about a heart attack. Only the death was supposed to be reported. So, Draco knowing the reason meant Lucius told him about it.
Everyone knew who Draco was pointing at, so all eyes fell on Dudley.
Just bankrupting you is too kind. I'll ruin your name and legacy too. Dudley's hatred for Malfoys increased significantly.
"What?!" Dudley shouted. "Hang on—why do I hear a dog barking? You know what happens to a barking dog, Susan? They get smacked in the face!"
"You!" Draco sneered and rushed towards Dudley, standing an arm’s length away. "Are you threatening me, Dursley?"
"Wait, I was talking about…" Dudley, acting shocked, looked left and right. He then leaned closer and whispered so only Draco and his friends could hear him. "Draco, since when did you become a dog? Wait, whose fault is that? Did your father shag a bitch or did your mother fu—"
Draco snapped and bared his wand. "Dare say another word!"
"Woah!" Dudley raised his hands high. "To threaten another student during such an important event. That’s bold, Draco. Proper terrifying, really. I’m so scared."
Dudley said that last part in the most feminine voice possible.
Hearing all the giggling voices around, Draco ashamedly stepped back and put his wand away. His lips twitched but he said nothing for a moment.
"Careful, mudblood. He's back."
He's lost.
Dudley instantly lost any semblance of restraint towards Draco from that comment. If the guy was brave enough to support Voldemort's return like that, it was too late already.
"I'm tired. Let's head to bed."
Finally, he took his girls back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. Begrudgingly, he went to the boy's dorm and dropped onto his bed.
It's going to be a chaotic year. He reckoned.
Fake Moody's eye was a little too focused, he felt. Not just on Harry but on him too.
I gotta start preparing.
####
Potions, Charms, and Arithmancy—Dudley looked forward to the first day of the 4th year. He started the day with a lot of expectations. He freshened up and had a little make-out session with his cute and lovely Hannah in an isolated corner to start the day.
Fantastic breakfast since the school was preparing to host the guests. Everything was spotless and was still being cleaned. It felt like the school regained its soul.
Of course, that only lasted half the day as he received a summon from the Headmaster's office. Once he arrived there, he found none other than Lucius Malfoy standing inside, proud, regally dressed, cane in hand, chin high with a smug smile on his face.
The smile was annoying and infuriating as it was directed at Dudley the whole time.
"Ah, my apologies, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore began with a gentle smile. "It seems Mr. Malfoy here thought it quite necessary to discuss the idea of the bank you proposed."
Dudley looked at the blond man.
That smirk.
"Mr. Dursley," Lucius drawled, his voice laced with condescension, as one might address a particularly dim house-elf. "A most regrettable turn of events. Such a pity—no one could save your father in time."
He's mocking me. That smile… is mocking me.
"I quite agree. I’m still a bit taken aback by everything that’s happened. Well, it’s my lunch hour, so how may I help you? I understand you’re looking to invest in the bank. Your interest is greatly appreciated, Mr. Malfoy." Dudley steered the conversation.
Lucius nodded and took out a letter of intent. "I intend to deposit one million Galleons in your bank. Provided your stated interest rates remain intact, I foresee no objections. However, I require this assurance in writing—signed and sealed."
Wait? Dudley furrowed, a touch of confusion flickering across his face, though he quickly masked it. So, he wants to put the money in my bank? Not taking a share in the bank itself?
That was utterly and absolutely dumb. Lucius was giving him 50 million pounds worth of gold galleons. All for measly interest returns.
He has no darn clue how muggle banks work. Ah, it's going to be much easier to deal with the Malfoys it seems.
"Signed and sealed? Of course, that's my guarantee, Mr. Malfoy."
"Should you fail to meet the agreed-upon interest rate, I expect you to pay a penalty—a sum double the amount I have so graciously invested," Lucius added, a condition never before discussed.
Ah, he wants to bankrupt me instead? Let me guess, he's going to keep adding money to my Bank until it becomes too big for interest returns? Dudley didn't know if he should laugh or laugh even louder. The man, for some reason, thought the money added to the Bank would remain untouched.
"Hmm…" He acted, a false struggle on his face. "Double? I'm confident."
"Then we should make the deal," Lucius suggested.
"Alright then," Dudley said, raising his hand. As he had anticipated, Lucius took it with his gloved hand, shaking it. "We'll exchange the transfer and sign the agreement tomorrow. Professor Dumbledore can act as the witness if he's agreeable."
Lucius nodded. "That is adequate."
With that, Lucius bid Dumbledore his farewell and started walking towards the door. But the man couldn't help himself, pausing and muttering.
"Once again, how dreadful it was, Mr. Dursley. I trust your father has found the peace he so deserves in the afterlife."
Dudley merely nodded, taking a deep breath.
Go ahead, show me your cards, Lucius. I'll save mine for later.
Finally, the proud Malfoy left.
"Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said softly from his chair, peering over the rims of his glasses with a knowing gaze. "I trust you know what you're doing."
"I know, Professor. I know exactly what I'm doing."
Dudley also left the Headmaster's office. But instead of returning to the Great Hall, he left the castle and went to the owlery. There, he wrote a quick letter and sent it flying.
Its contents were simple.
Find me Muggle-born wizards, struggling to make ends meet, especially from impoverished countries like Myanmar and Cambodia. Nations outshined by large neighbors—I have an offer that they can't refuse.
Comments
rand0mizer69
I feel like i enjoy this fic less than your others with Dudley not being OP as your other MCs (Marshall, Bronn, Wylis and the new one from Cyberpunk)
JustAFan
Makes sense 👍 looking forward to it 😄
MrPlotThickens
Oh, absolutely. Lucius is going to experience a very gruesome death at Dudley's hands. But Dudley needs to plot against Voldemort too, not just Lucius. The Dark Lord will come after a rich muggle-born like him for sure.
JustAFan
Personally all for more violence, rather then stretching it out. Ambush in knockturn, a lil bit of torturing lucius & death while narcissa gets banged and draco penniless.
