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D+D=D by Hibiscus

Format: Short story
Chapters: 3
Word Count: 2,859
Status: WIP

Rating: 12+
Warnings: No Warnings

Genres: Humor
Characters: Harry, Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, OtherCanon

First Published: 10/07/2006
Last Chapter: 12/02/2006
Last Updated: 12/02/2006

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A short story about what would happen if Dudley Dursley and Draco Malfoy met. The idea came to me in the bath tub. (Banner by me. Yes all of it. Even the crudley done stick figures. I'm left handed, which means I'm sinister apparently.)(On permenant hiatus. I might add the last chapter later, when I find it <_< don't really feel like rewriting)

Chapter 1: Bed Time Conversations.
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Disclaimer: I do not own any HP characters, themes or what have you, they all rightly belong to J.K. Rowling, who deserves credit for such a wonderful imagination. This is a work of fiction, as in, none of this has ever happened, is happening or ever will happen.

Authors note : This about Draco Malfoy and Dudley Dursley. This story does not contain any slash, so don’t get your hopes up. I don’t believe in turning some body else’s work into a pile of sleaze so don’t expect any. This story takes place when Harry, Draco, and Dudley are five years old. Also, you may notice that Petunia is a bit out of character in the first part, but then again, we don’t know much about Petunia’s personal life with Vernon. For all we know, she could be the pant’s wearer in the family.

Vernon and Petunia Dursley were sitting in bed. It was nearly bed time and the two of them were getting in their reading fill before the lights went and they drifted off to sleep.
Petunia was reading a celebrity tabloid, while Vernon read over an instruction manual to their new state of the art stereo system. He had bought it the day before and for the life of him, he could not figure out how it went together.

“Why does everything have to be so bloody complicated these days? Why I remember back when you listened to music, you listened to it on a record player. No sir, you didn’t have half as much as these bloody wires these new fangled tape cassette slash C.D. player’s do,” he grumbled, unintentionally sounding like his father.

“I warned you Vernon. I tried to talk you out of it, but you insisted,” Petunia said in a tart voice with out looking up from her magazine. She patted the rollers that were nestled in her hair as she looked at a picture of an up and coming actress, who had appeared to be having a bad hair day. Vernon grunted in distaste at his wife’s comment. She put her magazine down in her lap and looked at him over the rims of her reading glasses.

“I believe your exact words were, ‘Timberg has one, and he never stops talking about it. I’ll show that snot nosed brownnoser that he isn’t the only one with expensive taste,’” she said imitating his voice with out flaw.

“Well I’m not the one that showed up to work with a piano key neck tie,” he said in irrelevant distaste. Timberg was his arch enemy at work. Whatever Timberg did, Vernon did that and then some. In this case, Vernon had purchased five extra speakers that he could hook up to their 20 inch wide screen television set.

“At any rate, don’t forget Dudders has a play date tomorrow. His new school mate is coming over to play with him, while his parents have tea,” She said, as she put her magazine on her nightstand and turned off her lamp. Vernon looked at her.

“With who? I never heard any one say anything about a playdate!” Vernon was absolutely horrified at the fact considering that the living room was a complete mess of wires.
“With the Malfoy’s. Vernon, I told you last week! They’ll be over at two tomorrow afternoon, so I expect you to have gotten those speakers set up, or else taken back to the store!” Petunia did not tolerate messes. Vernon set down his manual on his night stand so it was completely adjacent to Petunia’s magazine on the opposite nightstand.

“Oh, the Malfoy’s. Yeah, I met the father when I dropped Dudley off the other day at school. Strange fellow. Didn’t like the likes of him. It seemed like he was looking down his nose at me, and I barley said three words to the chap,” Vernon said as he switched off his lamp and settled in to the blankets.

“Well, from what I understood from his wife, nice lady she is, he comes from money. So I expect you to be on your best behavior, and to use your best manners, including when it comes to the boy.”

“The boy,” rolled off her tongue as if she had just bitten into a very bitter apple. Vernon grunted.

“Talking of him, what are we to do with him? Send him off to Ms. Figg’s?” Vernon asked in a hopeful manner, because it was very hard for him to be nice to the boy, pure torture.

“I’m afraid not, she’s fallen ill, I expect she’s finally developing an allergy to all those nuisance cats. We’ll just have to make do, and be civil to him. Now good night Vernon. I’ve got a full day tomorrow, as do you.” She snuggled deeper into the covers and drifted off while Vernon lay awake for half an hour seething over the prospect of tomorrow’s events.


Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were settling in to bed, around the same time. Lucius was angry as Narcissa had just reminded him of the play date that their son had tomorrow. He did not want anything to do with dratted muggles.
“It wasn’t my idea to put him in that muggle pre-school. Why should I have to suffer?” He asked Narcissa.
“Because he is your son, Lucius, and you need to be part of his life, as you have been avoiding for the past 5 years. He isn’t going to be little forever. If you like, I could take him out of that school and you can home school him until he turns 11? Would that be better?” She asked him, knowing what his answer would be.

“No, but I just don’t see the point in it, Narcissa,” he said, sighing. They had been debating this issue for the past two weeks, and Narcissa just wished he would drop it.

“Because, Lucius, Hogwarts requires at least 4 years of academic education. How would it look if our son was the only one who couldn’t read, when he goes to Hogwarts?” She asked tartly. Lucius didn’t say anything.

“That’s why I think we should send him to Durmstrang. They start education at the age of 7 and they teach ALL of it there!” He exclaimed. He had Narcissa had been arguing about this one since before Draco was even born. Narcissa shook her head vigorously. Lucius could not possibly understand the reasons why.

“No! Absolutely not! That is too young for him to be away from his parents! Besides, Hogwarts is closer to home; we could keep an eye on him better, what with you being on the board of directors. In fact it would be rather hypocritical of YOU if he went to Durmstrang. How would that look?” She shot back at him. Lucius didn’t say anything. But thoughts swam through his head.

I don’t know why the woman has to baby him.

Narcissa waved her wand and the lights went out. Neither of them said a word to each other the rest of the night.

Chapter 2: A Warm Welcome.
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The doorbell chimed. Petunia jumped at the sound, half expecting their guest not to show up. She had spent the morning cleaning the house completely, and thoroughly, to ensure that her prestigious guests would not find fault in her home. Vernon had managed to set up the stereo system to look presentable even though, much to his frustration, it still did not work.
The doorbell chimed again, and the two adults looked at each other, expecting each other to get the door. Vernon still wasn’t presentable, as he was fumbling with his tie, and Petunia still had rubber gloves on her hands. Their nephew stepped out of his cupboard looking disheveled, as he had been rudely awakened that morning by his cousin lighting matches between his toes. He had been ordered to stay in his cupboard until the guest arrived, and he was to comb his hair back and he was to wear some of Dudley’s old church clothes. He had been sternly warned that there was to be no funny business and he was to be polite to the guest, or else. He had been sorely tempted to rip holes in the knees of his slacks, but then again he did not want to find out what the “Or Else” was, and submissively behaved himself that morning the best way that he could, by staying out of the way.
“Get the door, boy,” Vernon hissed at him while Petunia ran off to the kitchen to dispose of her gloves.
The boy answered the door, and standing on the porch was a husband and wife, and a sullen looking boy, who appeared to be about his age. The woman smiled absently at the boy, not sure who he was. Mrs. Dursley had never mentioned another son, nor had she seen him around school. Harry did not welcome the guest in, nor did the guest give a sign of wanting to be let in. The three just stared dumbly at each other.
“Don’t be silly, Harry, let our company in,” said Petunia from behind him, and with a quick nudge from her hip, she pushed Harry out of the way and held open the door. She welcomed her guests in with a sweep of her arms. They stepped into the living room, where Vernon Dursley greeted the husband with a booming voice.

“You must be, Mister Malfoy. Vernon Dursley, at your service,” he said and held out a meaty hand. Mister Malfoy did not take his hand, but instead he looked around the house with a disapproving look.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” he said with an important air. Vernon stood there awkwardly for a second, not quite sure what to do next. Then he realized that they probably had not come just to stand around not saying anything.

“How rude of me, please, make yourselves comfortable,” Vernon gestured to the sofa and chairs, which the guests sat down on, rather stiffly. “Petunia, dear, go get Dudley, I am sure this young man did not come here to sit around all day.” He said and gave the boy a smile. The boy gave him a look of contempt, displeased that he had been singled out by this sausage of a man.
It was Mrs. Malfoy who spoke first. She had set out today determined to make they day go well. But her hopes were crumbling.
“Petunia didn’t mention anything about having another son.” She said in a conversational tone. Vernon looked over at the boy who was not his son, sitting comfortably in an armchair. He was displeased and a little bit embarrassed as the boy’s hair was messy, as per usual. The boy couldn’t do anything right. He supposed he’d just have to punish him afterwards, and put it out of his mind.

“Oh, him. He’s our nephew, Harry. Took him in when he was just a baby. He was orphaned. Parents died in a car crash. So, Mister Malfoy, what do you do for a living?” Vernon replied trying to steer the conversation away from Harry. But Mr. Malfoy did not answer, for he was far more interested in the nephew, Harry

Chapter 3: Hide and Go seek
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Disclaimer: I have no rights and such. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

(note: I realize Ninentendo 64 probably wasn't invented when they were five years old so, play along with me.Also i realize there is a bit of a formatting problem so please just bare with me)

"Want to play on my Nintendo 64?" Dudley asked Draco who was standing rather stiffly in the doorway. Draco shook his head firmly, and gazed around the room. Never in his life had he seen such muggle trash. Toys were strewn about everywhere, and
to be quite frank, Draco was more than a little disgusted. His room at home was immaculate, though that wasn't his doing.
Dudley shrugged his shoulders and turned on the little T.V. that sat by his bed. He rummaged around on his floor until he found a little grey box, which he roughly stuffed into an even bigger grey box.
"Are you sure?" Dudley asked again, stuffing his face with a doughnut he had snuck from breakfast.
"I'm positive." Draco said, with a slight sneer. He did not uproot himself from the spot he was standing.
Dudley looked at Draco with a confused look.
"What's the matter with you? Are you stupid or something?"
Draco glared at him.
"How dare you call me stupid, you fat, pink bottomed muggle!" Dudley didn't know what muggle meant, but it sounded like an insult. He got up and shoved his face into Malfoy's.
"Well at least I'm not some sissy rich boy!" He snarled.
"Well at least my room is clean!"
"Well at least I'M NOT BIG SISSY POOPY HEAD!" Draco was taken aback. He wanted to laugh at him
for coming up with such a lame insult. His father had taught him much better than that. Of course, Draco thought, I am better than he is. His father had also warned him that if he did not behave himself, his broom would be taken away. Draco also knew, if he embarrassed his father, his father would shun him for a couple of days, and all Draco wanted to do was to please his father.
"I came here to play, now lets play," Draco ordered,"How about hide and go seek?" It was a game that they were both all too familiar to. Dudley stepped back and contemplated for a second.
"I suppose..." He said cautiously,"But I don't want to be 'it'."
"Well you can't expect me to be 'it'."
"This is my house, and we do what I want to do, and I dont want to be 'it'!"
"But I'm the guest! Besides, you know all the best hiding spots,it would be unfair!"
"ONE TWO THREE NOT IT!" Draco exclaimed suddenly. It was a dirty trick indeed. It happened when Dudley least expected. Dudley's face screwed up like he was about to throw a temper fit. Draco smirked smugly at him.
"It won't work, I'm not 'it' fair and square."
Dudley knew he was beaten.
"You count to 100 while I hide." Of course, Dudley could not count to one hundred, but he wasn't about to admit it that.
He went outside his door and covered his eyes, but made a mental note which direction Draco had taken off in.
"" He wasn't quite sure what came after ten so he improvised."Oneteen...twoteen...threeeeeteen...fourteen...twenty-eleven...ONE HUNDRED! READY OR NOT HERE I COME!" He said and took off as fast as his fat rump would allow him.

In the mean time, Draco ran as fast as he could down the stairs. He caught a glimpse of the grown-ups having tea in the sitting room. His father looked stiff and rather forlorn. His mother and Mrs. Dursley were chatting away merrily,ingoring their husbands who both looked rather uncomfortable.
Draco spotted a door under the stairs.
"That fatso will probably be too scared to look in here." He thought, patting himself on the back for being so smart.
He threw the door open, rushed in and closed it behind him, completely oblivious that there was some one in there.
"Stupid pig. I bet he doesn't even know how to count to one hundred yet." He said. Something stirred behind him. He turned and saw the same boy who had answered the door.
"Who're you?" He asked rather rudley. The boy looked down at his feet, and didn't say anything. Harry was quite certain that introductions had been made, but perhaps Draco was too busy sulking.
"Are you stupid or something?" Draco mimcked Dudley," I asked you a question. Who're you?"
"I'm Harry." Harry said rather dully. Just then, the heard hurried footsteps coming down the stairs. The stairs creaked slightly. Then the door flew open, revealing a very satisfied Dudley.
"I knew this would be the first place you'd hide." He said. Draco felt stupid. He had thought this would be a great hiding spot, nevermind intruding on Harry.
"Oh, I see you found smelly old Harry. Stinky, smelly, stupid Harry!" Dudley exclaimed.
"Yeah, who is he though? I just found him sitting in here. Is he retarded?" Draco asked, grinning rather evily. Dudley didn't know what retarded meant, but he liked the sound of it. It sounded mean.
"Yeah, I think so. His parents are dead." Dudley said, sending angry tears springing to Harry's eyes. Harry would like nothing better than to clobber Dudley into a comatose state, but did not act on this impulse.
"So he's not your brother?" Draco asked rather curiously.
"Ew, no! He's my cousin. I know what we can play!" Harry knew what was coming.
"What?" Draco asked.
"What's pinata?" Draco asked, his nose crinkling. It sounded stupid.
"Well, we take a stick and take turns hitting the Pinata, until candy comes out. ONE TWO THREE NOT THE PINATA!" Dudley
shouted rather fast, as to make sure he didn't get the short end of the stick. Draco followed suit, having no desire to be hit with a stick.
"Well, Harry, I guess you get to be the pinata."