Fic: It's a Start (Harry, Dudley)
Title: It’s a Start
Character: Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley
Word Count: 1210
Rating: Any Age
Note: This contains spoilers for Deathly Hallows. The summary is beneath the cut.
Summary: It might not be normal, but maybe it’s a start
The cottage is too quaint and tidy. There’s laundry on the line out back, a garden feature burbles water in the front, and it’s just an idyllic postcard setting. It’s not at all what Harry had pictured in his mind, not that he’d given it much thought during the past year. There were far too many more important things to think about, to worry about. It was only after it was all done, after the celebrations had ended, the dead were buried, and the reality of rebuilding and reconstruction had taken hold of the community that he had thought of them and wondered.
It was shocking to find that he actually cared. For so many years, he had wanted nothing more than to get away from the Dursleys. The way they had treated him was horrid, something he could never forget, and he’d seen off last year with an expectation of never seeing them again or wanting to see them again. If there was anything he’d learned in recent weeks, though, it was that he had to learn how to forgive or he’d risk becoming an angry, bitter person. He didn’t want to be that man, not when he’d lost so much and there were finally reasons to live.
It had taken him time to understand and realize what he wanted. Ron still didn’t understand, but Hermione had accepted it with a small smile that he knew meant she ‘got him’ even when no one else did. It wasn’t much of a surprise when, a few days after he’d mentioned it, she’d given him a scrap of parchment with an address written on it that very, very few would even know.
He hadn’t asked how she’d got it because he was too relieved that he wouldn’t have to ask someone and risk bringing attention to the family the wizarding world forgot he had. Hermione understood that, too, since she was still weighing the decision of bringing her parents back from the life they’d built for themselves in Australia, happy and content without a daughter they didn’t remember, or just leaving them there in peace even if it meant losing them.
The cottage hasn’t changed in the half hour that he’s been standing there, leaning against a tree staring at it while trying to decide if he’s really ready or if he even wants to do this at all. It would be so easy to just Apparate away and leave them in peace. It’s the decision he thinks Hermione’s going to make, even if she hasn’t accepted it yet. It wouldn’t be cruel, not when her family doesn’t even remember and his wishes to forget. Still, he lingers by the tree, pacing back and forth and muttering to himself as he practices what he might say when he finally does get the courage to go ring the bell.
“Oi, you there. What are you doing?”
The voice comes from behind him, and Harry has his wand in hand before he even finishes taking a breath. He turns and finds himself standing face to face with Dudley, who looks shocked to see him. Harry quickly tucks his wand away, glancing around furtively to make sure no one saw him holding a stick, and then looks at Dudley. “Hi.” Well, that was certainly anticlimactic.
“Harry? Is it really you?” Dudley asks suspiciously. “Tell me something only Harry would know.”
“You slept with a teddy bear until you were eight,” Harry says, wondering if it makes him evil for choosing an embarrassing memory instead of one of many that would be far more tolerable.
“You’re alive!” Dudley doesn’t even seem to care about the bear comment because he steps forward and actually hugs Harry. He suddenly lets go and steps back, running his hand through his hair as he shifts on his feet and looks awkward. “I mean, it’s good that you’re here. You won, then? Diggle said he’d let me know, but I guess he forgot.”
“Knowing Diggle, he’s been pissed since the celebrations began.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and frowns slightly. “Diggle was going to owl you?”
Dudley nods. “Yeah. He talked to me a lot, mostly cause I‘d listen. He and that fit bird were here all the time until a couple of months ago, when an owl arrived from that Kingsley bloke. Did they, uh, make it?”
“I don’t know,” Harry says honestly, sighing as he leans back against the tree. Dudley actually looks concerned about Dedalus Diggle, which has left him rather speechless. Maybe even more so than Dudley’s unexpected worry about him all those months ago. “Maybe I can find out, if you want.”
“Good. I’d like to know. They saved us. Well, you did, but right.”
“I’ll find out,” Harry promises, wondering for a moment if Dudley feels just as awkward and weird about this as he does. “So, you like it here?”
Dudley shrugs his large shoulders and kicks a pebble. “It’s okay. Miss my mates, but I don’t know. Feels like maybe it was a good thing to happen. Dad still hasn’t really settled in, but Mum’s happier. I don’t know why. Mums are just strange, I guess. I’m working at a garage nearby, learning how to fix automobiles and the like. Right good at it, and it doesn’t require a lot of fancy smarts. Just being good with my hands and remembering things.”
“I should see your mum sometime.” Harry has realized while talking to Dudley that he isn’t ready to see Petunia yet, not when Snape’s memories are still so fresh, and he isn’t sure how she’ll like him knowing so many things about her. Seeing Dudley is a relief, though, which is a surprise and almost makes him question whether hell might be freezing over. That thought makes him think about Neville and Voldemort, and he glances down, running his hand through his hair as he tries to push away thoughts of death and loss.
“You know what? There’s a pub just around the corner, the Laughing Dog, and they’ve got a great ale there. Want to come for a pint?” Dudley asks after a moment of silence and feet shuffling. Harry glances up, and can tell that Dudley’s surprised at the invitation, too. Dudley smiles crookedly. “Well, it’s just a pint with my…my cousin, and I think maybe cousins have pints together, you know? And talk about birds and footy while ranting about family and work and other shite. Might be too normal for us, though, eh? Big hero like you and me with grease on my hands.”
Harry shakes his head and slowly smiles. “A pint sounds good. I don’t know anything about footy, really, but I can tell you about Quidditch, which is much more exciting.”
Dudley nods and smiles, wiping his hands on his denims before he puts them in his pockets and starts to walk to the pub. “What’s qwidich? Can’t be better than footy!”
“It’s definitely better than football,” Harry argues, taking a moment to cast a charm around them so no one can eavesdrop before he starts to explain Quidditch, watching Dudley’s eyes widen when he hears about flying around on brooms. It might not be normal, but maybe it’s a start.
End
Character: Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley
Word Count: 1210
Rating: Any Age
Note: This contains spoilers for Deathly Hallows. The summary is beneath the cut.
Summary: It might not be normal, but maybe it’s a start
The cottage is too quaint and tidy. There’s laundry on the line out back, a garden feature burbles water in the front, and it’s just an idyllic postcard setting. It’s not at all what Harry had pictured in his mind, not that he’d given it much thought during the past year. There were far too many more important things to think about, to worry about. It was only after it was all done, after the celebrations had ended, the dead were buried, and the reality of rebuilding and reconstruction had taken hold of the community that he had thought of them and wondered.
It was shocking to find that he actually cared. For so many years, he had wanted nothing more than to get away from the Dursleys. The way they had treated him was horrid, something he could never forget, and he’d seen off last year with an expectation of never seeing them again or wanting to see them again. If there was anything he’d learned in recent weeks, though, it was that he had to learn how to forgive or he’d risk becoming an angry, bitter person. He didn’t want to be that man, not when he’d lost so much and there were finally reasons to live.
It had taken him time to understand and realize what he wanted. Ron still didn’t understand, but Hermione had accepted it with a small smile that he knew meant she ‘got him’ even when no one else did. It wasn’t much of a surprise when, a few days after he’d mentioned it, she’d given him a scrap of parchment with an address written on it that very, very few would even know.
He hadn’t asked how she’d got it because he was too relieved that he wouldn’t have to ask someone and risk bringing attention to the family the wizarding world forgot he had. Hermione understood that, too, since she was still weighing the decision of bringing her parents back from the life they’d built for themselves in Australia, happy and content without a daughter they didn’t remember, or just leaving them there in peace even if it meant losing them.
The cottage hasn’t changed in the half hour that he’s been standing there, leaning against a tree staring at it while trying to decide if he’s really ready or if he even wants to do this at all. It would be so easy to just Apparate away and leave them in peace. It’s the decision he thinks Hermione’s going to make, even if she hasn’t accepted it yet. It wouldn’t be cruel, not when her family doesn’t even remember and his wishes to forget. Still, he lingers by the tree, pacing back and forth and muttering to himself as he practices what he might say when he finally does get the courage to go ring the bell.
“Oi, you there. What are you doing?”
The voice comes from behind him, and Harry has his wand in hand before he even finishes taking a breath. He turns and finds himself standing face to face with Dudley, who looks shocked to see him. Harry quickly tucks his wand away, glancing around furtively to make sure no one saw him holding a stick, and then looks at Dudley. “Hi.” Well, that was certainly anticlimactic.
“Harry? Is it really you?” Dudley asks suspiciously. “Tell me something only Harry would know.”
“You slept with a teddy bear until you were eight,” Harry says, wondering if it makes him evil for choosing an embarrassing memory instead of one of many that would be far more tolerable.
“You’re alive!” Dudley doesn’t even seem to care about the bear comment because he steps forward and actually hugs Harry. He suddenly lets go and steps back, running his hand through his hair as he shifts on his feet and looks awkward. “I mean, it’s good that you’re here. You won, then? Diggle said he’d let me know, but I guess he forgot.”
“Knowing Diggle, he’s been pissed since the celebrations began.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and frowns slightly. “Diggle was going to owl you?”
Dudley nods. “Yeah. He talked to me a lot, mostly cause I‘d listen. He and that fit bird were here all the time until a couple of months ago, when an owl arrived from that Kingsley bloke. Did they, uh, make it?”
“I don’t know,” Harry says honestly, sighing as he leans back against the tree. Dudley actually looks concerned about Dedalus Diggle, which has left him rather speechless. Maybe even more so than Dudley’s unexpected worry about him all those months ago. “Maybe I can find out, if you want.”
“Good. I’d like to know. They saved us. Well, you did, but right.”
“I’ll find out,” Harry promises, wondering for a moment if Dudley feels just as awkward and weird about this as he does. “So, you like it here?”
Dudley shrugs his large shoulders and kicks a pebble. “It’s okay. Miss my mates, but I don’t know. Feels like maybe it was a good thing to happen. Dad still hasn’t really settled in, but Mum’s happier. I don’t know why. Mums are just strange, I guess. I’m working at a garage nearby, learning how to fix automobiles and the like. Right good at it, and it doesn’t require a lot of fancy smarts. Just being good with my hands and remembering things.”
“I should see your mum sometime.” Harry has realized while talking to Dudley that he isn’t ready to see Petunia yet, not when Snape’s memories are still so fresh, and he isn’t sure how she’ll like him knowing so many things about her. Seeing Dudley is a relief, though, which is a surprise and almost makes him question whether hell might be freezing over. That thought makes him think about Neville and Voldemort, and he glances down, running his hand through his hair as he tries to push away thoughts of death and loss.
“You know what? There’s a pub just around the corner, the Laughing Dog, and they’ve got a great ale there. Want to come for a pint?” Dudley asks after a moment of silence and feet shuffling. Harry glances up, and can tell that Dudley’s surprised at the invitation, too. Dudley smiles crookedly. “Well, it’s just a pint with my…my cousin, and I think maybe cousins have pints together, you know? And talk about birds and footy while ranting about family and work and other shite. Might be too normal for us, though, eh? Big hero like you and me with grease on my hands.”
Harry shakes his head and slowly smiles. “A pint sounds good. I don’t know anything about footy, really, but I can tell you about Quidditch, which is much more exciting.”
Dudley nods and smiles, wiping his hands on his denims before he puts them in his pockets and starts to walk to the pub. “What’s qwidich? Can’t be better than footy!”
“It’s definitely better than football,” Harry argues, taking a moment to cast a charm around them so no one can eavesdrop before he starts to explain Quidditch, watching Dudley’s eyes widen when he hears about flying around on brooms. It might not be normal, but maybe it’s a start.
End