A/N: This is my first fanfic in quite a while, so please don't be too harsh! Haha, please review and whatnot. Thanks! =D

Dudley stood with his back to the television in the hotel room, facing his mother and father. He still gripped the letter in his hands, dropped through the window by a small brown owl nearly an hour ago. He had spent that last hour arguing with his parents about what to do next. "Harry is safe. You are free to return to your home. The war is over." There was no signature, no indication where it came from.

"Who cares what Harry does," his father asked. "We can't trust these people. How do we know they're not waiting for us at the house?"

"That's why I want to find Harry," Dudley retorted. "We've been over this a hundred times. I want to be sure everything is alright, that we will be safe."

"Duddykins," his mother interjected, "It's very sweet of you, but," she trailed off after a Vernon shot her a glare. Dudley stomped over to the window, trying to control his anger at his parents. All he wanted was to make sure it was safe for them. To be sure this letter wasn't from – what had they called them? Something horrible like Death Omens, he thought. He wanted to be sure no one was trying to trick them into a trap.

"Fine," he said firmly, staring out the window. "Stay here. I'll be back." He went into the bathroom and fit his fake moustache on his face. He thought it was stupid, but the little man who had taken them to the hotel told him it was the only way he knew "muggles" could disguise themselves. He shook his head again, thinking back on that conversation. The little man seemed so confused by what he called "muggle technology."

Finally, Dudley stormed out of the bathroom, picking up his knapsack, which had been filled with food and clothing by his mother. He was dressed in jeans, a pair of old sneakers, and his boxing jersey from Smeltings Academy. He slung the knapsack over his shoulder and kissed his mother on the cheek before he left the hotel room. As he walked down the hallway, he tried to decide where to go. The only thing he remembered was dropping his cousin off at King's Cross Station. Perhaps Harry would return there. It was his only hope. Dudley jumped in his father's car and headed for the train station.

Their hotel was very close to the station, so the drive only took a few minutes. He stood by the car for a while, thinking about the last time he had seen his cousin. Nervousness built inside him at seeing Harry again. What he had said felt stupid now. He gathered his courage and walked into the train station. Dudley went to the bench where he used to wait with his parents for Harry's return each year. While he waited, he thought back on all of the strange things that had happened there over the years. He felt sure that Harry would appear any minute, just as he had so many times before.

Sure enough, as he sat on the bench, people began to appear in the station, seemingly from nowhere. No one else ever seemed to notice, but the station filled with people dressed in strange clothes that didn't match, long cloaks, seemingly too hot for the weather, and there was even a little man he recognized by his odd top hat. He smiled to himself, knowing he was in the right place, and continued to wait for his cousin to appear.

Harry appeared on the platform nearly an hour after Dudley had arrived, hand in hand with a red haired girl Dudley recognized from previous years. He stood and rushed forward toward his cousin, greeting him with a sense of relief. Harry seemed surprised, but shook Dudley's hand and walked away with him to a quieter corner. Dudley quickly questioned Harry about the events of the last several months.

"What's with the moustache?" Dudley quickly took it off and stowed it in his pocket, waving off the question. "Yes, we've defeated him, he's gone for good," Harry finally concluded. "Why do you care?"

The question made Dudley uncomfortable. He realized he hadn't been the best cousin, but he had hoped Harry could forgive his past discretions. "Well," he hesitated, thinking what to say, "We got a letter. It said things were fine, but we didn't know who it was from, so I wanted to be sure it was okay to return home."

"Oh," Harry responded. He turned to leave, but Dudley caught his arm.

"Harry, I-" Dudley stopped as an incredibly beautiful dark-haired girl approached them sheepishly.

"I, er," she began, "Hi, Harry. Congratulations." She blushed and turned to leave, but Harry seemed to notice the slack-jawed look on Dudley's face.

"Cho," he said to the girl, "Thanks. This is my cousin, Dudley. He's just come to check up on me. But he knows all he needs to now. Right, Dud?" Dudley nodded, feeling suddenly sick. He wasn't very good with women. He had been on a few dates, sure, but he was awful at stating conversations or charming women. He cleared his throat nervously as Harry turned and left. The dark-haired girl, Cho, stayed behind, smiling at Dudley. He smile made him feel sicker.

"Nice to meet you, Dudley," Cho said shyly, turning her eyes to the ground, still smiling.

"It's, er, nice to meet you, too." Dudley took a deep breath and gathered his courage. "Is there any chance I could get your, er," he gulped nervously before finishing his sentence, "Phone number?"

"Oh, um," Cho began, and Dudley's heart fell through his stomach. "What's a phone number?"

Relief flooded through Dudley, and he laughed at the question. "How about a cup of tea," he asked instead. When she nodded, he grinned at her and led her off toward the exit, shooting a wink back at Harry and mouthing "Thank you."