Harry Potter the boy who lived what a joke if his friends could see him now what would they and the rest of the wizarding world think of their great hero, their great saviour? Cowered in the corner of his room covered in blood, tears streaked down his face. He hadn’t cried when Vernon and Petunia had delivered their lesson he wouldn’t he couldn’t, it would have made things worse. If things could get any worse than this.

 He had come back from Hogwarts after his first year there, after finding out that all the weird things that kept happening around him, that the Dursley’s kept trying to beat and starve out of him were in fact normal he was normal, He was Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived the baby who had defeated a great dark wizard, TWICE. the boy who’s name every one knew.

  But now he was back in Privet Drive, battered, starved, dirty and alone.

 He finally allowed himself to slip into an uneasy sleep wishing he were back with Ron and Hermione and Hagrid even Professor Snape wasn’t so bad. Yes back in a castle on a hill with his friends.

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Dudley Dursley was not one of life’s great minds if any thing  he was ponderous being the size and weight of a baby elephant. His parents had spoilt him, to the point of ruin; he had believed that he was the centre of the universe that the world revolved around him and what he wanted he got. Sweets, pop third helpings at every meal.

Unlike Harry he went to Smeltings, his father’s old school fortunately for Dudley the school had changed over the years since his father had attended. Bullying was not tolerated but corporal punishment was still practiced. And it was here that Dudley finally realised that his cousin was being abused and he had to stop it.

His parents had never raised a hand to him so when he received his first six swats on the behind with an old gym shoe Dudley felt that his world had come to an end. And that night, lying in his bed with his bum still smarting, he realised he had to do something to help Harry.

  So now sitting by the desk in his bedroom for once devoid of electronic gadgets and being used for the purpose it was intended, Dudley for the first time in his life wrote a letter.

I don’t no who will read this letter but I hope who ever you are is nice harry needs somebody nice. He is in troble and I dont no wat to do. I no he is majic and he goes to a majic skool so I hope this letter gets to you. My mother and father have beat him up bad and it is not the only time they starve him and make him do all the work. I have not been nice to him but I am sorry and I want to help and he needs to get away from here befor they do anymore bad things to him. I am givin this letter to Harrys owl and I hope she finds you before he gets worse he is pretty bad now and is bleeding and moanining and Harry never moans. Plese hurry.

Dudley Dursley

Number 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging Surry

 Dudley finished his letter and as quietly as he could, opened his bedroom door and hearing the low mumbles of his parents voices downstairs he went into Harry’s room.

Harry was still in the corner unconscious his breathing laboured Dudley knew he had to act fast. He was scared of the owl sitting on the window looking down at her master but he knew she was Harry’s only hope.

“H.. hello Hedwig he stammered I..II need you to do something for me, for Harry, I have written this but I don’t know who to send it to you need to take this to someone who can get help for Harry and you need to hurry he hasn’t got much time.

With her piercing eyes, Hedwig took one more look at the boy and snatched the letter from his hand and took off through the open window into the evening sun.

Knowing he had done all he could for now and not wanting to get caught in his cousins room Dudley took one more look at Harry.

 “Duddykins your dinner is on the table.” “coming mummy” as he closed the door.

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Ron Weasley had just spent the day de-gnoming the garden as punishment for back chatting his mother not the best idea. Her temper was as fiery as her red hair.

As much as they all moaned about the job they was something satisfying about seeing the little potato looking creatures flying through the air.

Pleased with a job well done Ron sat himself down at the kitchen table just as the sun was starting to set breathing in the wonderful aromas of Mrs Weasleys’ steak and onion pie, mashed potatoes peas and carrots and a wonderful thick gravy. Ron’s stomach was starting to make noises of anticipation and hunger.

The food at Hogwarts was delicious and plentiful but nobody could cook like his mum. And even though they didn’t have money for luxuries and posh clothes there was always a good table.

Ron sat staring out of the open window  waiting for his mother to start dishing up food an object in the distance caught his attention. Watching as it came closer and closer Ron realised it was an owl travelling at some speed. ‘Must be important to be going that fast , he thought to himself as he watched the bird come closer, ‘maybe it’s for dad from the ministry, there aren’t  any other wizard houses around here for miles.’ “Bloody hell it ‘s not slowing down,” Ron shouted. Mrs Weasley dropped the pile of plates she was levitating to the table at Ron’s raised voice and spun around ready to admonish her son’s expletive. As the owl swooped in through the open window landing on the table but the speed in which it had come through it had no hope of stopping and skidded across the table knocking everything in its path to the floor including the pie that smelled so appealing.

The rest of the family had now appeared in the kitchen, brought there by Ron’s yells and the sound of plates and food hitting the floor. And at the far end of the table, where she had finally come to a halt, lay an exhausted Hedwig, Harry’s snowy owl, her beautiful white feathers covered in the Weasley’s evening meal, with the letter from Dudley in her beak.