AN: Hey y'all. It's summer! Most of you are probably out doing fun things, but here I am with a week between things to do, so I've been writing. This is an idea I've had half written for a while. I finally finished it today, and while I don't think it's incredible, it's better than most of the other crap I have in my fanfics folder so it's good enough to post. I got the idea from Call-me-Cassandra's story Fortunate Son, chapter six, Living in Cages. Basically, to sum this up, it's Dudley's POV when he sees Harry the first time at the train station after his first year at Hogwarts. I've never written a Dudley thing before, (though I have another one half finished) so, like I said above, it's probably not very good. But try to enjoy anyway!

Responsibilities.

That's how my parents had explained it off when I had asked why we had to go get the freak from the train station. Well, really just my mother. My father agreed with me. It still made little sense to me, even with an explanation. He had left us on his own accord, and now we were just taking him back! We were so much better without him! By picking him up, we were guaranteeing ourselves a horrible summer.

But still, my mother had said tearfully, "Oh, Diddykins! I don't want to go either! I can't believe I'm going to ruin my precious Diddy-dums summer! But we have responsibilities! If we don't pick him up, people would start to wonder, and we'd get another visit from—from one of…them." She choked on the word.

I remembered the giant man breaking down the door or the hut and giving me a pigs tail. I shuddered. Another visit was not something I wanted.

"He can live at the station for the whole year for all I care. Their kind don't like to live civilized like us." My father had responded, but still, my mother was adamant.

So here we were, standing in Kings Cross station, trying to look like we were waiting for the 6 o'clock train on platform nine, while we were secretly scouting out of the corners of our eyes for the boy, in the crowd of other freaks coming out of the wall. Yes, out of the wall. I would simply never understand why they had to be so abnormal. It would be so much easier not to go through a wall, but still, that's what they did. Freaks definitely had messed-up minds.

To an untrained eye, it wouldn't look like anything unusual was happening. Only three freaks were coming out of the wall at a time, and they were dressed fairly normally, in school uniforms, except for the colorful ties they were wearing. That was abnormal because: 1) the girls were wearing them. Ties were a man's thing, and 2) they were weird colors you didn't normally see in a uniform. Some of them were even yellow and black striped! Talk about clashing!

Sighing, I turned away. At the rate that the freaks were coming, it might be a while before I saw my dratted cousin again. Since this was the last time I would be an only child all summer, I took a moment to imagine what it could have been.

I could be hanging out with my gang every day. We would go to the play park and terrorize the little children. But, the freak was here, and it was my duty to make sure he didn't do any of his—his abnormality… I would have to stay home. It would be boring, but I could make fun of him again. Except it would be different this time because he could fight back. I would have to be careful.

My father could protect me! That was it! He was the strongest smartest, best man I knew. If anyone could stop the freak from doing his thing, it was him.

But suddenly, while admiring my father, I saw him turn a deep shade of red. That could only mean one thing, the freak was back. I whipped around as fast as I could, frantically searching the space where he should be. But he wasn't there. Confused, I searched some more, but all I could see were a tall, red-haired boy, a girl with crazy brown hair, and a boy with glasses and black hair.

Next to us, a woman with red hair was trying to control her daughter. "There he is, Mum, there he is, look! Harry Potter! Look, Mum! I can see—"

"Be quiet Ginny, and it's rude to point." The mother shushed her flame-headed daughter.

The girl was pointing at the black haired boy. But Harry Potter. That was his name. Why would she be calling him that unless…

Then it hit me. The boy with glasses and black hair was him! Harry! The Boy! He looked so different, I couldn't believe it! Before, he had been skinny, small, and sallow. His messy black hair had just made his pail and sickly skin look even paler and sicklier. His broken glasses had been falling off his nose, and his baggy, over-large clothing had hung off his body accentuating his skinny limbs. I remembered just looking at his wrists and imagining how easy it would be to break them with a single snap.

Now, it was completely different. He was completely different. Even after I had realized it was him, I was still having trouble recognizing it. Searching my head for the right word, I realized what the difference was. He looked healthy, the very picture of a fit, eleven-year-old. In fact, he might have even been normal if it hadn't been for the giant trunk and the owl he was carrying.

Where his messy hair used to look dirty and had given the illusion that his head was far too big for his body, it now didn't look so bad. His hair looked perfectly clean, and I grudgingly admitted to myself that it looked good on him, like messy was his style. His skin was tan and healthy as well, like he had actually been spending some time outside rather than being locked in the cupboard under the stairs. His school uniform fit him well. His legs were hidden in long black pants and fancy black shoes, so I couldn't see how they looked, but the sleeves on his white shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows, and I could see that his forearms were decently muscled. His grey sweater vest fit snuggly, and I could tell that his torso wasn't ridiculously skinny anymore either. (Just for the record, he wore a red and gold tie. I didn't like those colors either.) Upon staring at him some more, I also noticed that his glasses had somehow been fixed. They, too, looked a great deal better without a wad of tape in the middle.

Time seemed to have slowed down, for The Boy was still walking toward the red-haired woman and her daughter. He was talking to the girl and boy on either side of him, and I thought that they might even be his friends! Of course, they would be losers to then. No one in their right mind would be friends with him.

Finally, they arrived in front of the woman who smiled down at the three. I wondered if she might be the red-head boy's mother, as he and the little girl looked similar. Trying to be quiet, I moved closer so I could hear their conversation.

"Busy year?" The woman asked them.

"Very." Harry replied. I wondered what they did in freak school. I doubted they had to do work or anything, like normal people did. Dad always said they would go no where in life, so that seemed reasonable.

"Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Ms. Weasley." Harry continued. That lady had given him presents? Who would do that?

"Oh, it was nothing, dear." The woman who must have been Mrs. Weasley replied. Dear? What was this world coming to?

My father chose this time to get The Boy. "Ready, are you?" He demanded, expecting him to just say yes and come with us.

However, the freak woman, Mrs. Weasley actually turned to talk to us. "You must be Harry's family!" She said, looking excited.

"In a manner of speaking." My father replied, not wanting to seem too unusal. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He added, ruining the impression of tolerating The Boy at least somewhat. He turned and started to walk away, so my mother and I followed him. I trailed a little behind so that I could hear the rest of what they were saying. It seemed that they were just saying goodbye, so, not being able to stand their friendship, I walked away before they had finished talking.

During the car ride home, I was careful to stay as far away from The Boy as I could, despite the fact that we had to share the back seat. The familiar expression that was a mix of sad, angry, and lonely that he used to wear all the time was back on his face, and I liked it that way. Still, though, there was a very firm difference in the way he held himself. You could tell that he was much more confident now, he was someone that would be hard to boss around, so unlike the old Harry. And though he didn't seem to realize it, I did, and it upset me greatly.

The new Harry was so different from the old one. So different that I could feel the times changing. Just last year, I wouldn't have hesitated to make fun of him, but there was something stopping me now. Maybe it was the fact that he would no doubt fight back. Whatever they had done at that school had fixed him. He was no longer the broken boy without any parents, but the boy who could fend for himself.

This would be an interesting summer…

AN: So? How was it? Love it? Hate it? All reviews are appreciated! While I'm sitting here typing, I feel like I should tell you that I've recently become obsessed by the fanfic author, Molly Raesly. (I think thats how you spell it...) try searching her!She is currently working on her last fanfic ever which I read the first chapter of last night, and I loved it! In case you're wondering, no, I am not being paid to advertise. I'm just obsessed and I love telling people what to do.

So, anyway, enjoy your summer! I might post somthing soon, I might not. Who knows? If I have time between camp and the Women's World Cup, (another thing you should look into...) I have plently of half finished fics I'd like to complete, plus some new ideas. I have another semi-long one I'm working on now about Petunia's POV when Lily gets accepted to Hogwarts. It's the first fic I ever wrote, so it needs some heavy revising, but I might actually come out with it one day. (Yes, I know. You didn't come here to read my shamless self promotion.) So, until then, have a nice life!

~Lulu