Upon entering the room, Dudley makes himself right at home, choosing a sturdy wooden chair to sit on. The chair groans under his weight, visibly bending and protesting, but Lucius Malfoy, who would normally be distraught over his precious furniture, doesn't even notice. His eyes are fixed on Dudley, afraid to miss a single expression.
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"I think you know exactly what I mean," Dudley says with a shrug, leaning back comfortably. "That fellow... he's not dead."
Lucius's heart pounds, but he feigns ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Dudley says the name softly, and Lucius's face pales. "He's dead," Lucius insists.
The thought of Voldemort being truly gone is the best possible outcome for all the former Death Eaters who, like Lucius, immediately switched sides after the Dark Lord fell. After all, no one likes a traitor.
"Do you really believe that?" Dudley asks, a playful glint in his eyes. "Don't lie to yourself, Mr. Malfoy. He called his most loyal and trusted followers. He's found him... and he'll be back soon. Maybe in a year, maybe tomorrow."
Dudley's voice lowers. "Mr. Malfoy, you weren't called. That means he doesn't trust you anymore."
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Lucius denies it, but the strange feeling on his left arm, the one bearing the Dark Mark, tells him that Dudley is telling the truth.
He's truly terrified now. The consequences of not being trusted by the Dark Lord are unthinkable. He looks at Dudley, his mind racing. "Even if it's true, how could you know? Are you...?"
"Don't be a fool," Dudley says, cutting him off with a laugh. "It's impossible. He and I are mortal enemies, and there's no doubt about it." If Dudley were a Death Eater, Harry would be nothing more than a pile of ash.
Lucius, rattled by the news, can't argue with that. This can only mean that Dudley has someone on the inside. Could the Boy Who Lived be a powerful dark wizard? Or maybe it's Dudley?
Dudley ignores Lucius's wild thoughts and pulls out a barrel filled with a foul-smelling black liquid. "Here, Mr. Malfoy, take a look." Lucius leans in, almost passing out from the horrid smell.
"I see you don't recognize it either," Dudley says. "This is the diary you put in Ginny's cauldron. Do you know what it is?"
Lucius frowns. It was just a dark magic object, nothing more.
"Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?" Dudley asks, not waiting for an answer. "It's a ritual where a wizard splits his soul and puts a piece of it into an object. Do you know what that means? It means that as long as the Horcrux is safe, the wizard can't truly die. He can be resurrected later."
Lucius's gray eyes widen with terror. He understands now why Voldemort isn't dead. And he understands his own role in it.
"That's right, you guessed it," Dudley says. "This Horcrux was destroyed because of your mistake. Do you think he'll forgive you?"
At that moment, Lucius's world comes crashing down. His face is as white as a sheet, and his legs give out. He collapses to the floor. If the only thing he had done was turn his back on Voldemort, he might have been able to talk his way out of it. But destroying the one thing that made his master immortal? As one of Voldemort's earliest followers, he knows what kind of man the Dark Lord is.
"Even if he doesn't give you the killing curse, what do you think he'll do to you and your family, now that he can't trust you?" Dudley says. "You, your wife, and Draco will be branded. The Malfoy family will be ruined forever."
Lucius might not be a good man or a good wizard, but he is a good husband and a good father. He grabs Dudley's pant leg, his voice full of desperation. "You have to help him! You have to help me!"
"I'd help him even if you didn't ask," Dudley says. "Draco is my friend."
The next day, Lucius and his wife leave Malfoy Manor in a hurry, claiming that they have business to attend to. Draco is left in charge of the estate.
---
### Lessons at the Manor
"Dudley," Harry says, rubbing his lightning bolt scar, "I had a strange dream last night."
Dudley's eyes light up. "What did you dream about?"
Harry's face is filled with revulsion. "A giant snake and Peter Pettigrew... and a goblin with Voldemort's face. All wrinkled and without a nose. It was so ugly." The thought is so disgusting that Harry loses his appetite for his boiled egg.
Dudley nods, a clear look of understanding on his face. He then tells the others at the table, "Starting today, we're going to learn a very useful bit of magic—Occlumency."
"I want everyone to try to master it before the holidays are over."
Occlumency is an advanced magical art, and everyone at the table is excited to learn it.
Life at Malfoy Manor is quite comfortable, with good food and a pleasant place to live. The group stays for almost a month. During that time, Harry and Neville go through a growth spurt, and their bodies fill out. They're still not as big as Dudley, but their muscles are starting to show, and they're becoming more like him. Ron also has a growth spurt, but Draco, no matter how much he eats, stays the same size.
Draco often complains about this. "It's not fair," he whines. "I was supposed to be the tall one!" His lamentable cries would make anyone feel sorry for him.
"Dudley, help me," Draco says, looking at Dudley like a cast-off wife. Hermione has to fight the urge to roll her eyes.
From then on, Draco has to drink a potion that's three times more bitter than a gallstone before bed every night.