July 16, 2018
See introductory post here for explanations.
Dudley watched Harry walk into the pub and felt himself relax. Even though he knew it was stupid, he'd been expecting the sullen, defiant teenager he remembered from his own teenage years, not this cheerful man dressed in jeans and a bright red jumper. As Harry walked back to his booth, Dudley reminded himself of what he wanted to say -- and not say.
After Harry had sat down, and they each had a pint in front of them, Harry sat back and asked, "What's up?"
"Couple of things," Dudley said, looking at his pint. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but he had to. "We had Mum and Dad over yesterday--"
"Sorry to hear that," Harry said. His smile said it was a tease; he didn't seem to be serious.
"Er, yeah. They want to come on the tour. Can it be arranged?"
Harry sat forward abruptly. He didn't say anything for several minutes; his expression, when Dudley peeked up at him, was stunned. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia want to tour a magical school? Full of witches and wizards and other freakish, unnatural sorts? 'Cause, you know, there are non-human people around. Centaurs and such."
"Yeah," Dudley said, not looking up. "And, well, Sophie made Dad promise not to say 'freak'. Or anything similar. He's not happy, but he agreed to it."
"That's nice," said Harry, his voice faint. Another minute passed before he said, "Why?"
Dudley finally forced himself to look up at his cousin. There was so much past behind them; it was hard to believe they could ever get along, let alone be friends. But Dudley had made himself a promise the night before, as he'd lain in bed, holding his sleeping wife and watching the clock. He and Harry should have been like brothers. It had taken him nearly forty years, but he was ready, if Harry was willing. He sighed. "Because they don't want to lose Daphne. That's what it all comes down to.
"Did you know, Mum always thought Hogwarts steals kids. Not really, but their hearts. There was some boy, not your father, that your mum met and Mum thinks he convinced your mum that she didn't belong in her family any more, now that she was a witch. And, from what Mum says, he was kind of, I dunno, weird-looking or something. Anyway, I think she always wanted to see the school, so . . . "
When he looked up, Harry didn't look quite as stunned as Dudley had expected. Instead, he looked thoughtful. After finishing his pint, and pouring a second from the pitcher and drinking half of that, he finally smiled. "You know, that actually makes sense. I know the boy she's talking about, and, well, he's not who you'd choose as an example of a 'fine upstanding Wizarding youth'. One of my least favourite professors when I was at school." He took another drink. "Probably the bravest man I ever knew, but no one'd call him nice." He looked down at the table and said, so softly Dudley almost couldn't hear him, "'Cept maybe Mum."
It took another couple of drinks, and a bracing deep breath, before Harry said, looking straight at Dudley, "I'll set it up, but it won't be easy. I never told, but my friends did, how they treated me and, after, all the idiot biographies made a big deal of it." He shrugged. "I'm sorry about that, but there's not much I can do about it."
Dudley nodded, struck by what Harry had said. 'I never told.' It sounded like every TV show about abused children he'd ever seen. He shook his head. "I'll tell them, but it's no more than they've earned, wouldn't you say?"
Harry smiled at him. "Ah, Dudley," he said quietly, "if all we ever got was what we earned, we'd all be in sad, sad shape."
"You remind me of a saint, sometimes," Dudley said in wonder. He'd never been any good at forgiving. Not even Sophie and the kids.
Harry snorted, spraying beer. "Don't let Ginny hear you say that," he said, sniggering. "Or any of her brothers. They'd never let me live it down. Now, how have things been going with Daphne? I know she's been sending letters to Lily and Al, who I won't call Asp, no matter how much he wants me to, but I'd like to hear how you're seeing it.
They spent the next several hours, talking about Daphne and how excited she was. Then the conversation wandered to their favourite sports teams. To Dudley's surprise, Harry still followed football, although he wasn't as keen on it as Dudley was. By the time they left the pub, neither of them could walk very straight.
"Y'don' mind if I crash on y'r couch, d'ya?" Harry asked, weaving a bit as he walked home with Dudley. "I'd splinch m'self for sure 'f I tried to App'rate now. 'N borrow Daphne's owl so Ginny won' worry. Don' wan' her to worry."
"Good husband, y'are," Dudley said, hoping he was heading in the right direction.
"Hell, no," Harry said, laughing. "Y'ever had bats comin' out y'r nose? She's nasty when she gets angry." His eyes got distant, and his smile broadened. "Beaut'ful, though. Even more'n normal."
The next morning, Harry looked no better than Dudley felt when he got up. "Thank Merlin I'm in charge of my department," he said, looking at the clock. "No one'll yell at me when I'm a little late. Thanks for the couch," he said as he kissed Sophie. He shook hands with Dudley and said, "See you Saturday, unless it's earlier. Hope you're feeling better than me." He shook his head and disappeared.
"I just hope Ginny doesn't spell bats up his nose," Dudley said thoughtfully as he looked at the empty place where Harry had been standing.
"Can she do that?" Sophie asked, and shook her head when Dudley shrugged. "Handy thing to know," was her final comment.
What can I say? I had a good writing day.
Dudley watched Harry walk into the pub and felt himself relax. Even though he knew it was stupid, he'd been expecting the sullen, defiant teenager he remembered from his own teenage years, not this cheerful man dressed in jeans and a bright red jumper. As Harry walked back to his booth, Dudley reminded himself of what he wanted to say -- and not say.
After Harry had sat down, and they each had a pint in front of them, Harry sat back and asked, "What's up?"
"Couple of things," Dudley said, looking at his pint. He really didn't want to have this conversation, but he had to. "We had Mum and Dad over yesterday--"
"Sorry to hear that," Harry said. His smile said it was a tease; he didn't seem to be serious.
"Er, yeah. They want to come on the tour. Can it be arranged?"
Harry sat forward abruptly. He didn't say anything for several minutes; his expression, when Dudley peeked up at him, was stunned. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia want to tour a magical school? Full of witches and wizards and other freakish, unnatural sorts? 'Cause, you know, there are non-human people around. Centaurs and such."
"Yeah," Dudley said, not looking up. "And, well, Sophie made Dad promise not to say 'freak'. Or anything similar. He's not happy, but he agreed to it."
"That's nice," said Harry, his voice faint. Another minute passed before he said, "Why?"
Dudley finally forced himself to look up at his cousin. There was so much past behind them; it was hard to believe they could ever get along, let alone be friends. But Dudley had made himself a promise the night before, as he'd lain in bed, holding his sleeping wife and watching the clock. He and Harry should have been like brothers. It had taken him nearly forty years, but he was ready, if Harry was willing. He sighed. "Because they don't want to lose Daphne. That's what it all comes down to.
"Did you know, Mum always thought Hogwarts steals kids. Not really, but their hearts. There was some boy, not your father, that your mum met and Mum thinks he convinced your mum that she didn't belong in her family any more, now that she was a witch. And, from what Mum says, he was kind of, I dunno, weird-looking or something. Anyway, I think she always wanted to see the school, so . . . "
When he looked up, Harry didn't look quite as stunned as Dudley had expected. Instead, he looked thoughtful. After finishing his pint, and pouring a second from the pitcher and drinking half of that, he finally smiled. "You know, that actually makes sense. I know the boy she's talking about, and, well, he's not who you'd choose as an example of a 'fine upstanding Wizarding youth'. One of my least favourite professors when I was at school." He took another drink. "Probably the bravest man I ever knew, but no one'd call him nice." He looked down at the table and said, so softly Dudley almost couldn't hear him, "'Cept maybe Mum."
It took another couple of drinks, and a bracing deep breath, before Harry said, looking straight at Dudley, "I'll set it up, but it won't be easy. I never told, but my friends did, how they treated me and, after, all the idiot biographies made a big deal of it." He shrugged. "I'm sorry about that, but there's not much I can do about it."
Dudley nodded, struck by what Harry had said. 'I never told.' It sounded like every TV show about abused children he'd ever seen. He shook his head. "I'll tell them, but it's no more than they've earned, wouldn't you say?"
Harry smiled at him. "Ah, Dudley," he said quietly, "if all we ever got was what we earned, we'd all be in sad, sad shape."
"You remind me of a saint, sometimes," Dudley said in wonder. He'd never been any good at forgiving. Not even Sophie and the kids.
Harry snorted, spraying beer. "Don't let Ginny hear you say that," he said, sniggering. "Or any of her brothers. They'd never let me live it down. Now, how have things been going with Daphne? I know she's been sending letters to Lily and Al, who I won't call Asp, no matter how much he wants me to, but I'd like to hear how you're seeing it.
They spent the next several hours, talking about Daphne and how excited she was. Then the conversation wandered to their favourite sports teams. To Dudley's surprise, Harry still followed football, although he wasn't as keen on it as Dudley was. By the time they left the pub, neither of them could walk very straight.
"Y'don' mind if I crash on y'r couch, d'ya?" Harry asked, weaving a bit as he walked home with Dudley. "I'd splinch m'self for sure 'f I tried to App'rate now. 'N borrow Daphne's owl so Ginny won' worry. Don' wan' her to worry."
"Good husband, y'are," Dudley said, hoping he was heading in the right direction.
"Hell, no," Harry said, laughing. "Y'ever had bats comin' out y'r nose? She's nasty when she gets angry." His eyes got distant, and his smile broadened. "Beaut'ful, though. Even more'n normal."
The next morning, Harry looked no better than Dudley felt when he got up. "Thank Merlin I'm in charge of my department," he said, looking at the clock. "No one'll yell at me when I'm a little late. Thanks for the couch," he said as he kissed Sophie. He shook hands with Dudley and said, "See you Saturday, unless it's earlier. Hope you're feeling better than me." He shook his head and disappeared.
"I just hope Ginny doesn't spell bats up his nose," Dudley said thoughtfully as he looked at the empty place where Harry had been standing.
"Can she do that?" Sophie asked, and shook her head when Dudley shrugged. "Handy thing to know," was her final comment.
What can I say? I had a good writing day.