(A/N: Hello everybody! This was written for the Round 3 in the Fanfiction Idol competition on the HPFC forum. It ended up a tad longer than originally planned, but I was actually really happy with it. Enjoy!)
Harry James Potter strolled down the streets of Muggle London happily, hands in his pockets and untidy hair flopping this way and that in the slight breeze.
It was a prefect day-not too hot or too cold—and it was one of Harry's few days off from work. As head of the Auror office, days off were rare and special, and Harry usually liked to spend them with Ginny, or the kids if he could. But today Ginny was out with her woman's Quidditch club (she had been suffering from Quidditch withdrawal ever since she had stopped playing with the Harpies), and the kids were all at Hogwarts. This year was Lily's first year, and Harry and Ginny had been writing to her every week, asking her how everything was going. Their youngest had written back every time in lengthily letters, telling them about how she was receiving top marks on all her work, how amazing Hogwarts was, how Hugo forgot about the disappearing step for the fifth time the other day, and how James let her watch the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice on occasion.
Receiving her letters brightened both of their days, and it made Harry's heart swell with pride to see how wonderful his little girl was doing. Little Albus too was exceeding with top marks, especially in Defense Against the Dark Arts, much to Ginny and Harry's glee. He was already showing interest in becoming an Auror, and Harry couldn't have been happier with his decision to strive for it.
James was a different story altogether. During his first week at Hogwarts, the mischievous boy had lost no time in claiming the pedestal of school prankster. Armed with Harry's invisibility cloak, James had not wasted a second in exploring the castles' every corridor at night, using the Marauder's Map to guide him. (It had mysteriously disappeared from Harry's desk.) Soon James knew every secret passage in the castle and used them to pull off all sorts of pranks.
Nevertheless, James' marks weren't horrible, and overall, Ginny and Harry were extremely proud of all three of them. Watching them grow and go on their own magical journeys through Wizarding school, Harry could not help but reflect on his own school years at Hogwarts. He smiled at the fond memories that surfaced. Although his school days had been quite unordinary compared to that of a normal wizard and quite a bit more dangerous, Harry had loved every second of his seven years at Hogwarts. Retaking seventh year after the Battle of Hogwarts hadn't been a pain in the slightest, and Harry had been happy to take it over again with Ron and Hermione at his side.
Pushing his hands deeper into his pockets, Harry's smile slipped somewhat as his mind flashed back on what had been supposed to be his seventh year at Hogwarts. His lips pursed at the thought. He usually tried not to think about that year. Remembering it made his scar seem to tingle again like it used to, even though he knew his enemy was long dead and gone, never to threaten him, his family or his friends again.
Still, the memories would never leave him. Or the nightmares. Most every night, the same nightmare would plaque him. A mixture of all the horrors that he had experienced since he was one year old. They would all flash through his mind, one by one, and each image was more horrible and painful than the last.
The final thing he'd see before he'd wake up to Ginny shaking him and calling his name would be Voldemort's face, pasty white and snake like, holding the Elder Wand to his forehead, his scar burning with pain unlike any other and the Dark Lord mouthing two words.
"Avada Kedavra."
The kids had been instructed at an early age not to ask about the nights that they heard the screaming. They had learned to ignore it and go back to sleep and let Mummy handle it. They were taught not to ask Daddy about it the next morning and to try and forget all about it.
But it still bothered Harry to no end. It was over. Done. Voldemort was gone, and he was never coming back…but yet it seemed even in death Voldemort plagued him and his family.
His children should have been able to grow up in a household without their father screaming the names of those long gone in his sleep every other night.
But he couldn't let himself think like that. Harry took a deep breath to collect himself as he kept walking, fingering some Muggle money in his pocket and trying to look at the shop displays for something he might buy for himself, just this one time. He tried to forget about the nightmares and the war and Voldemort altogether. His children knew. They knew what their father had gone through, and they knew what he had done to make the Wizarding community safe for them to grow up in. They knew the horrors that had happened before their time, even though they had not experienced them first hand. It was all over now. It was their time to grow up and live their lives. The past didn't matter anymore.
He told this to himself every day.
But it seemed no matter how many times he said it in his mind; it never helped. His mind would never rest.
The memories would never leave him and he would never forget.
With a sigh Harry temporarily closed his eyes, biting his lip as he forcefully pushed the dark thoughts from his mind. He refused to let himself dwell on that kind of thing any longer. All it did was bring him down even more. Today was a good day. His day off, and he was spending it getting away from magic and taking a nice pleasure walk through the Muggle community. No more thinking about magic, he told himself firmly, as he turned another street corner and made his way down another small street, trying to forcefully make himself enjoy the perfect weather, the delicious smells and the bright, happy colors of the London streets and shops.
By some miracle his internal command worked and Harry felt his spirits lift as he looked in on the various shops, studying the Muggle toys, the café's and the clothing window displays. It was comforting to see such normal, everyday Muggle things and Harry felt the corners of his mouth lift slightly. It had been a good idea to spend the day here, to get his mind away from everything. He really needed it, especially now that all three kids were away at school and he was feeling the common parental withdrawal from their children and the slight pang of seeing them grow up and begin to move away from their parents to make their own way in the world.
As he window-shopped, Harry found his mind drifting back to the past, but not back to Voldemort. His mind went further back than his years at Hogwarts, back to when he had lived in ignorance of the Wizarding world and was still residing in the little house of number 4 Privet Drive with the Dursley's.
It had not really been a happy time. At least, Harry had not considered it as so. He had despised his life at the Dursley's and had been more than happy to leave it every September to travel back to Hogwarts where he belonged and was wanted. But although he had never considered his aunt and uncle's house home, he still grew up there, and it still meant something to him. He hadn't known it while he lived there, but he had realized it eventually. At least on the day when he finally said goodbye to it. He remembered it as clearly as if it were yesterday.
He had cleaned out his room and packed up his stuff, waiting for the Order members that were coming to pick him up to arrive. He had peeked into his old room, the cupboard under the stairs, as he waited, finding himself suddenly sentimental as he stared at the small space he had called his own for the first eleven years of his life. Although he felt no love for the spotless house or the small, dank cupboard, he found the realization that he was leaving the house he had lived out his summers in and grew up in before that, was actually somewhat sobering for him. He thought, maybe, in some deep corner of his heart, he might actually miss the place.
That in mind, he never thought he'd ever miss his relatives. Aunt Petunia had never talked to him once about her sister the entire time Harry had lived with her, and she had never once thanked him for any help that he might have given to her. Uncle Vernon hadn't even bothered to mumble a "take care of yourself" before he was packing the car and yelling at Dudley to hurry along. No, Harry was positive that he hadn't missed his aunt and uncle, and still didn't.
But to his full surprise, he found that he sort of did miss Dudley.
Back when he was eleven, he would never, ever think that he would miss his abusive older cousin. All Dudley had ever done to him the entire period they had lived together during their childhood was bully him. Tiny, weak and skinny Harry Potter was always Big D's scrawny punching bag, and usually, Dudley wouldn't even give him a second thought.
But Dudley had changed somewhat. Not a whole lot—barely, even—but he had changed. After Harry had saved Dudley's life—well, soul actually—from the dementor that had attacked them during the summer before Harry's fifth year, Dudley's attitude had changed toward Harry, however slightly. Then, Harry had thought that he was probably just scared of him; even more now that he had seen more of what Harry was capable of.
It wasn't until Dudley said goodbye to him that Harry saw how very wrong he was.
Hestia Jones was outraged that Uncle Vernon had said that Harry was simply going "Off with some of your lot," and was ranting about how didn't they know the "Unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti-Voldemort movement?"
"Er—no, they don't," Harry had tried to explain. "They think I'm a waste of space actually, but I'm used to—"
"I don't think you're a waste of space."
Harry had been too shocked to respond at first. He wasn't even sure if it was his cousin who had spoken. He didn't think he would have believed it, if Dudley hadn't blushed in embarrassment.
"Well…er…thanks, Dudley," he had said awkwardly, not really sure how to respond to his cousin's out of character show of appreciation, if that's what it could be called.
"You saved my life," Dudley mumbled, looking uncomfortable and unsure of what he was saying.
"Not really," Harry had said, slightly touched by Dudley remembering this incident, although at the same time confused and mind-boggled that the two of them were actually having a conversation. "It was your soul the dementor would have taken…"
It was then that Harry realized that the cup of tea he had stepped on by accident that morning might not have been a booby trap like he had originally thought. Astounded and also surprisingly touched, Harry had simply watched as Dudley had opened his mouth a couple times, as if to say more, before blushing a deep scarlet again and shutting his mouth in embarrassment.
Harry had expected him to simply leave with that being said. But he hadn't. Instead, as his parents got ready to go with Hestia and Diggle, Dudley had held out his hand to Harry.
"Blimey Dudley," Harry had breathed, stunned, "Did the dementors blow a different personality into you?"
"Dunno," Dudley had said, looking uncomfortable. "See you, Harry."
"Yeah…" Harry said, taking Dudley's hand. "Maybe. Take care, Big D."
Harry thought Dudley had nearly smiled, before he turned and left to join his Dad out in the car.
Harry found himself pondering this memory as he stared at the display for a new video game that had just come out, eyes glazed slightly as he spaced off. He hadn't seen Dudley or either his aunt or uncle since that day. He was sure Dudley was on his own now—Harry had a feeling he'd probably want to get away from his parents as soon as possible—and maybe even married with his own kids by now. He didn't know. Frankly, he hadn't thought much of Dudley in a long while. He figured maybe the Muggle community had brought all the thoughts of his life with the Dursley's back to his mind.
Whether he saw them again or not, though, Harry hoped Dudley was doing well. He wasn't all bad, and after all, he had sort of thanked Harry for saving his soul that night so long ago. And unlike his parents, he had at actually said a goodbye—a goodbye he had actually meant, which was even more shocking.
It wasn't a whole lot, but it at least made Harry want to wish him well.
Straightening and taking his hands out of his pockets, Harry carried on his way, thinking that maybe he would stop in one of the café's and get a coffee or something. He hadn't had coffee and forever, and it might actually be a sort of nice change from the Wizarding drinks he was used to now.
Before long, he had found a nice little café on a corner of one of the tiny streets. Peeking in, he found at a glance that it wasn't extremely crowded, so he entered, walking up to the counter to get ready to order. He glanced above at the menu, scanning it with his eyes and familiarizing himself again with the Muggle terms. After making his decision, he approached the cash register to take his order.
"Good morning," he greeted the girl behind the cash register, a teenager who was chewing gum that Harry could smell the mint flavor of clearly.
"Mornin'," the girl said, carelessly, looking incredibly bored. "May I take you order?"
"Yes please," Harry said politely, reading off his choice from the menu.
The girl nodded and punched a couple of buttons on the cash register before telling him what he owed. Harry then dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out the little bit of Muggle money he had, counting it and hoping dearly he remembered the amounts correctly, before handing it to the girl.
She placed it into the cash register and it made a little dinging noise. "Your order will be ready for you in a couple minutes," she said, handing him his change.
"Thank you," Harry said, before stepping away from the counter and moving out of the way to let customers through, putting the change back in his pocket as he waited for his coffee to be ready. Yawning a bit, he leaned against a vacant table.
In a sudden flash of movement, Harry was suddenly knocked over by someone roughly pushing passed him, causing him to almost fall over the chair standing next to him. Grabbing it, he steadied himself, turning to face whoever had bumped into him in annoyance. Frowning, he came face to face with an overweight man about the same age as himself.
"Oh, sorry," the man said, putting a hand on Harry's arm and helping him regain his balance. "I didn't see you there. Are you okay?"
Harry nodded, straightening his circular glasses, which had fallen askew. "Yeah, I'm fine," he murmured. "Don't worry, accidents happen, it's no big deal."
Harry expected the gentlemen to simply apologize and continue on his way, but instead the man stared at Harry, eyes wide. Frowning, Harry looked up at the man, a little unnerved. "Um," he said, a little awkwardly. "Can I help you?"
The obese man blinked, looking like he had just snapped out of a daze. His mouth flapped uselessly for a moment, before it seemed he found the will to speak.
"H-H-Harry?" he breathed.
Harry's mouth dropped open somewhat and he stared at the fat man for a long moment, shocked that he knew his name. "Do I…know you?" he asked.
The man shook his head in wonder, looking flabbergasted. "Uh, yeah," he managed. "It's…it's me. Dudley."
Harry's eyes widened in shock and his mouth fell completely open.
No. Way.
"D-Dudley?" he got out, overcome with shock. Was this really his cousin? His green eyes ran over his supposed cousin's overweight frame in disbelief, before meeting Dudley's small eyes in astonishment.
Dudley laughed awkwardly, smiling somewhat. "Yeah," he said. "Blimey, you…you look so…different."
"Yeah," Harry managed to get out, shaking his head in wonder. "You too. Wow."
Dudley smiled. "Man, I thought I was going crazy," he said. "When I first saw you I thought it was you, with the glasses in everything, but I thought I was just being silly. But when you stood up I…I saw your scar and…" he shook his head again, laughing. "Fancy seeing you here, Harry Potter."
Harry was still almost too shocked to speak. "Dudley, I—yeah, yeah fancy seeing you here. I-I mean…h-how long has it been?"
Dudley frowned, brow furrowing like the math was too complicated for him. "Um…I…well…I'm not sure I…"
Harry frowned and did the math himself. "Twenty-two years," he said after a moment, sparing Dudley the strain of actually having to do a little subtraction. "Wow. I didn't realize it's been so…long."
"Twenty-two years?" Dudley repeated, eyes wide. "I didn't realize it had been so long either. Blimey, that's crazy."
Harry exhaled, looking at loss for words. This was incredibly awkward. Having a civil conversation with his cousin twenty-two years ago had been weird, and this was even more socially awkward than that—which was saying something. What were the chances that he ran into Dudley, of all people?
"Well, wow…" he spluttered, not sure what to say. "Um…h-how've you been, Big D?"
"Sir?"
"Doing…doing all right, I suppose," Dudley said, shrugging and looking just as uncomfortable as Harry. "Supporting the family."
"Excuse me? Sir?"
"Family?" Harry echoed, aghast. The possibility that Dudley was married and had children had crossed his mind, but now that he knew it was true, he found himself embarrassingly flabbergasted. "Y-you're mar…ah, I mean, you're married then?"
"SIR?"
"Yeah," Dudley said, not meeting Harry's eyes and blushing somewhat. "Yeah. I mean…yeah."
"Wow," Harry whispered. The sudden flow of new information about his cousin was much more overwhelming than he had thought it might have been. "I…wow. That's…that's great Dudley. Um…congratulations."
Dudley smiled weakly. "Thanks," he said, cheeks still turning a fierce scarlet.
Harry opened his mouth to ask something else when suddenly someone walked between them.
Harry stared down at the young teenage girl from the cash register dumbly as she stuffed his coffee in his face, an annoyed expression written all over her features. "Your coffee," she said coolly. "Sir."
"Oh," Harry said, taking it and blushing. Unicorn turds. He hadn't realized that she had been calling him. You are such an idiot Harry, he thought to himself in disgust. "Sorry…I…uh…thank you."
The girl simply huffed and stalked away.
He heard Dudley chuckle a little and looked up at him with scarlet cheeks.
"Not used to the normal way of getting a drink, eh?" Dudley whispered, smiling a bit and looking a little less uncomfortable now that he was actually making fun of Harry somewhat. That was at least something he knew how to do, Harry guessed.
"I well…yeah," Harry admitted, blushing deeper. "It's…it's been a while."
"Yes…well," Dudley said, smiling fading suddenly as he seemed to realize the situation, eyes darting this way and that as his awkwardness returned again. "I'll…I'll be…seeing you then?"
"Ah, yes, yes," Harry said, clutching his coffee as if this were the only thing he was sure of anymore. "Sure. See you."
Dudley nodded and began to lumber away. "Well, nice seeing you," he said over his shoulder, before making his way out the door.
Harry watched him go, still a bit shell-shocked, before scanning for an empty booth to sit down in, trying to ignore the stares he was getting after the coffee episode and trying to calm himself so he would stop blushing.
Sitting down, he put his coffee on the table top, running his hand through his hair.
Wow. Dudley! After all these years, he had actually run into his cousin again. And he was married! The fact shouldn't have been that shocking to him, but for some reason it was, and Harry couldn't seem to get over it. Taking a sip of his coffee, he tried to wrap his mind around it, wondering what else had changed since they had last met.
Suddenly, a long shadow moved over him.
Looking up, Harry was shocked to find Dudley standing beside him, cheeks a shade of red so dark Harry thought his head might explode.
"Whoa," he spluttered, feeling like an idiot and finding it oddly hard to comprehend the sudden reappearance of his cousin. "Um…hello again."
"Hi," Dudley said uneasily, rubbing the bald spot on his blond head and looking like he was contemplating bolting at any second, eyes darting. Harry was surprised to see a battle raging in those very same small eyes. Like Dudley was fighting with himself over something.
There was a long awkward moment in which Harry waited for Dudley to speak. Cocking his head slightly, Harry looked at Dudley square in the eyes. "Do you need something?" he asked slowly.
"Well, n-no," Dudley said, speaking incredibly sluggishly. "I just…well, I thought it was rude that I…I just sort of left like that. I mean, we haven't seen each other in over twenty years and thought…thought it was polite to y'know…catch up?"
Harry stared at Dudley. Long in hard. Who was this, and what had he done with his cousin? The other man's attempt at politeness was scaring him.
"Uh…sure," Harry said clumsily, feeling his face burn again. "That's…that's all? You just want to catch up?"
Dudley seemed to fumble with his words for a moment. "Well, you see, I…I thought I was being rude," he said. "And…and you…you did save my life b-back when…when…you know…a-and you were never really that bad, and I was pretty mean to you and I…I…"
He trailed off for a moment before shutting up, wisely quitting while he was ahead and before the strain of trying to say something nice imploded his brain.
Harry was almost too astounded to respond. This was not the Dudley Dursley that he had grown up with. It was almost like Dudley was…apologizing for how he had treated Harry when they had been kids. Apologizing! Dudley Dursley was apologizing!
The idea was almost too preposterous and appalling for comprehension.
Forget being polite. Harry could not let this one stay buried.
"Dudley…" he said, pronouncing each syllable as if in slow motion, not daring to believe it. "Are you…saying sorry?"
Dudley looked extremely flustered at the question and his mouth flapped a couple of times like a fish out of water, before he closed it roughly and settled on simply nodding, not meeting Harry's eyes.
Harry vaguely realized his mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it.
"Well then," he said, breaking the extremely awkward quiet that had followed Dudley's silent affirmative. He gestured to the empty seat in the booth across from him jerkily. "Uh…care to join me?"
Dudley opened his mouth again, as if to accept graciously, before closing it for the umpteenth time and just nodding again, shuffling over and sitting down on the plush seat, fiddling with his hands and avoiding eye contact.
Harry stared at him, not really believing that this was all actually happening, or quite grasping the idea that he was about to have a sit-down chat with his one and only cousin.
If things could get any more awkward, Harry thought he might just die. That is, if Dudley didn't keel over from his own unease first.
They sat in silence for what felt like eternity, neither man knowing quite what to say to the other.
Finally, Harry figured he might as well start talking and get it over with.
"So," he said firmly, determined to rid himself of his previous bumbling speech. "You're…employed then?"
"Yes," Dudley answered, looking relieved that it was Harry, not him, that had begun the conversation. "I…I work at a bakery."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "A bakery?"
"Yeah," Dudley said, smiling a little. "We're actually quite famous. We have the best jelly-filled donuts around. My job is making the dough."
A mental picture of Dudley in a white apron kneading dough with a giant smile on his face wheedled its way into Harry's inner eye and he wasn't sure if he should be happy for his relative or laugh loudly.
He decided not to say a whole lot. He didn't think he trusted himself not to laugh. "That's nice," he said shortly, holding back a chuckle.
"Yeah," Dudley said, looking more at ease now that the conversation had actually started. "It's not bad. Pays pretty good too, as long as the business keeps up."
"That's good," Harry said, not sure what else he was supposed to say.
Dudley nodded. "Yeah."
Another lengthily silence followed. Harry was pretty sure that this was where Dudley was supposed to ask Harry what his job was, and Dudley knew it too. Harry could see it, in his eyes, as well as the obvious hesitation to do so.
Harry didn't really blame him. Dudley knew that it would be something magical based, and he didn't think that his cousin probably wanted to know. Part of him wanted to spare Dudley the awkwardness of having to ask, but he had no idea how to do so without asking another question, so instead he just sat there in silence.
After what felt like all eternity and beyond, Dudley apparently finally mustered up the courage to ask.
"And what, may I ask, is your…job?" Dudley asked, the last word coming out a little weakly, eyes darting sideways to look at the rest of the customers, as if he was worried that they might overhear their conversation.
"Ah," Harry said, dreading having to explain his occupation to Dudley. "Well, I'm…I'm an Auror."
Dudley blinked. "A what?" he said, confusion temporarily overriding his worry of finding out what his wizard cousin's job was. "An Aurora? Like the Aurora Borealis?"
Harry sighed. "No," he said. "An Auror. It's like…like…" he searched for some way to explain it simply. "Like the wizard police. We catch all the law breakers."
Dudley looked relieved. "Oh, okay," he said. "That's…that's not that…"
"Unordinary?" Harry suggested, smiling a little.
"Yeah," Dudley said, exhaling.
"It isn't, really," Harry said, not thinking. "Except we use wands instead of guns and catch wizard criminals while keeping it off the Muggle media."
Evidently this was the wrong thing to say, because Dudley looked horrified. "There are wizard criminals?" he gasped, looking frightened.
Harry sighed. "Well, yes," he said. "But none of them are too dangerous. Not anymore, anyway."
Dudley looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, they used to be more dangerous…" Harry said. "Before…" before I killed Voldemort, he finished silently, trailing off instead, hoping Dudley wouldn't ask.
Unfortunately, he did. "Before what?" he asked, brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened. "You mean the bad stuff those Order people that took us away from our house were talking about," he whispered. "T-that guy. You-Know-Who they called him."
Harry was incredibly impressed by Dudley's recall. He didn't think that Dudley remembered half of the things that had been said that day, but apparently he had a better memory than he had let on. And apparently Hestia and Diggle had talked a bit about Voldemort.
"Yeah," Harry admitted, seeing no point in trying to skate around it now. "He called himself Voldemort. He…he was the wizard that killed my parents."
Dudley's eyes were as round as saucers. "Is he dead?" he whispered.
Harry nodded. "Yes," he said. "I killed him."
A flash of fear ran through Dudley's eyes. "You killed him?" he exclaimed.
Harry sighed. There was no point in explaining it all to Dudley, because he knew that he would never understand. "Look, it's a long story," he said. "You don't really want to know. The important thing is he's gone, and all his followers are either dead or in Azka—the wizard prison. Everything's a lot safer now."
Dudley nodded, looking satisfied with that note and Harry was relieved that that was over with.
A small silence followed and Harry realized it was back to him to ask a question.
He sighed. "So…" he said. "You're married."
Dudley blushed suddenly. "Oh…" he said. "Yeah. I am."
"Whose the lucky girl?" Harry asked, taking a sip of his coffee, actually somewhat interested.
Dudley rubbed the back of his neck, biting his lower lip. "Her name is Angelina," he said, his eyes getting somewhat distant. "She's…" he sighed. "She's beautiful."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What does she look like?"
Dudley looked at him, actually grinning a bit. "Well, she's blonde with lovely blue eyes. We're…about the same size, and she has a lovely taste in ties."
Harry had to stop himself from chocking on his coffee. "That's…nice…" he said, trying to keep his voice from wavering. He hid a smile behind his coffee cup.
"Yeah, it is," Dudley said. He smiled out the window for a moment, before looking back at Harry, grin wavering a bit. "So…what about you?" he asked. "Are…are you married?"
"Well, as a matter of fact, yes I am," Harry said.
Dudley looked actually a bit surprised for a moment, before recovering and looking slightly awkward again. "Is she…y'know…"
"A witch?" Harry said for him, sparing him the trouble of saying it himself. "Yes, she is."
"Oh," Dudley said, looking at loss of what to say next. Taking a leaf out of Harry's book, he went for looks. "What does she look like?"
"Well, her name is Ginny," Harry said, smiling a bit as he pictured his redheaded, spirited wife. "She has shoulder-length red hair, brown eyes and likes Quidditch."
Dudley looked bewildered. "What's Quidditch?"
"Oh," Harry said, momentarily forgetting his cousin's ignorance of the Wizarding world. "It's a wizard sport. Played on broomsticks."
Dudley looked unnerved by this and wisely decided not to ask more. "How nice," he squeaked instead.
A predicted quiet followed this short bit of speech and Harry sighed, knowing he was going to have to start the conversation again. It was turning out less awkward than expected, but not by much.
"Do you have any kids?" Harry ventured, deciding children was always a safe topic to inquire about.
Dudley nodded. "Yes, two," he said. "A girl and a boy. Jacob and Kelly. Kelly's thirteen now and Jacob is ten. They both take after their mother."
Harry smiled. "That's great Dudley," he said sincerely. "They both doing well in school?"
Dudley smiled a bit, nodding. "Kelly is head of the game club, and Jacob has shown interest in boxing."
Vaguely remembering that Dudley had done boxing as well, Harry figured this was something he was proud of. "That's awesome," he said. "I'm glad they're doing well."
"Yeah," Dudley breathed, looking distant for a moment, before coming back to reality. Harry saw the hesitation flash in his eyes quickly as he debated asking the same question Harry had just asked.
"Do you…do you have any kids?" he asked slowly, looking like he was scared to know the answer.
Harry politely pretended he didn't notice. "Yes," he said. "Three."
Dudley looked shocked. "Three?"
Harry nodded, smiling. "Two boys and a girl. James Sirius Potter, Albus Severus Potter and Lily Luna Potter. James is the oldest, fifteen and in his fifth year at Hogwarts. Albus is thirteen and in third, and Lily is eleven and starting her first year."
Dudley looked extremely uneasy now. "They…they all go to that school of yours?" he whispered.
Harry nodded. "Yes, they're all magical," he said. "And all of them are receiving top marks too. Well, James' are just average. He gets in trouble a lot. He's a bit of a troublemaker. Has too much of his grandfather and godfather in him, I think."
Harry knew he was scaring Dudley. He also knew he was being mean and he probably should stop, but the look on his cousin's face was too priceless. He knew that Dudley remembered that his godfather was Sirius Black, known to the Muggle community as a mass murderer, and the fact that his eldest son supposedly took after him probably wanted to make him run and hide his children from James.
Harry didn't blame him. He had a feeling James would find the fact that his cousin's children were Muggles an amazing opportunity for 'fun'. He didn't think Dudley would be too happy if his son pulled a Fred and George on either one of his children like they had on him before fourth year.
The memory of Dudley's tongue stretching to six times its normal size was almost too funny to remember.
Dudley had obviously decided it was time to change the subject, although Harry could tell he had no idea what to change it to. He had a feeling anything Dudley could ask him would end up magical related, and Harry could tell that Dudley desperately wanted to avoid that.
He was about to spare him the trouble and just the end the conversation politely before taking his leave when he stopped short.
A man had just entered the coffee shop, in his early twenties with a black beard and dark, jumpy eyes. He was wearing a green jumper, a stained white shirt, jeans and work boots, but it wasn't the man or his clothes that caused Harry to freeze.
It was what was sticking out of the man's jumper pocket.
A long, thin piece of wood, adorned with carvings.
A wand.
Dudley was looking at Harry weirdly. "Are you all right?" he asked, confused by Harry's sudden change in behavior.
"Shhh!" Harry hissed, moving into the booth more and digging into his pocket, pulling out his wand.
Dudley's eyes went wide at the sight of it. "What are you doing?" he squeaked in fear.
"Shhh, " Harry shushed him again, never taking his eyes off the man, who was ordering his drink. "That man. He's a wizard. And a wanted one. I recognize him. His name is Charlie Bartolouis. He steals artifacts with low magical abilities from Muggle museums and sells them illegally."
Dudley's eyes bugged and a look of complete and utter fear overtook his features. "He's one of you people?" he spluttered, horrified. "And he's a criminal?"
Harry nodded again, casually setting his wand on the table. "He's slipped through my teams' fingers twice already," he whispered. "I have to get him while I can."
"You're going to nab him here?" Dudley exclaimed. "Are you crazy?"
"I'll make it inconspicuous," Harry assured him. "I don't want to get into trouble with any of the other offices. The Minister would have my head."
"Inconspicuous?" Dudley blubbered. "Inconspicuous how?"
"Follow my lead," Harry hissed, standing and keeping his wand halfway up his sleeve. He began to walk casually toward the door. He heard Dudley splutter behind him, but also heard him get up and follow, much to Harry's relief. He had to make this look like an accident, or he was totally in for it.
He waited until Dudley was walking next to him before he made his way toward the door purposely and ordinarily. But when he neared Bartolouis, who had just received his order, the man's shifty eyes spotted him and Harry saw his eyes widen as he caught sight of the lightening scar on his forehead.
Dragon bogies. Why did he have to be so famous?
In a split second, Bartolouis bolted, and without thinking, Harry put his plan into action, hoping against hope that it worked. He didn't need to get in trouble with any of his coworkers.
In a fluid motion Harry stuck out his foot like he was going to accidentally trip the fleeing man, before pointing the tip of his wand at him with his sleeve and whispering "Pertrificus Totalus."
He said it quiet enough that no one heard but Dudley, whose eyes widened in horror as they watched Bartolouis suddenly become stiff as a board as the full body-bind curse hit him, causing him to fall to the ground, his coffee spilling everywhere.
Before anyone could react, Harry took action.
"Oh, I am so sorry!" he said loudly, making sure everyone heard him. "I didn't see you there! Did I trip you? I am so very very sorry sir. Here, let me help you."
Bending down Harry pulled the bound man up and held him tightly, so that it wasn't easy to see the taut position that he was standing in.
"Here, take my coffee as a replacement," Harry said, pretending to give Bartolouis his cup and making it look like he was holding it. "I'll help you to your car. I am so very, very sorry." He looked back at the counter for good measure. "Sorry about the mess," he apologized, putting some money down on the counter. "Take this for the trouble."
With that, he began to 'help' the body-bound man out of the coffee shop, saying false apologies as he went, shooting Dudley as sideways look that said 'follow'.
The bewildered Dudley obeyed and the three men left the shop.
Once they were a little ways away, Harry led them into a small alley, letting go of Bartolouis and leaning him against the wall, roughly grabbing the wand out of the criminal's pocket. "All right Bartolouis," he said, eyes hard. Waving his wand, he lifted the full body-bind and replaced it with a less strong one, giving the thief limited movement. "You know who I am?"
Bartolouis didn't say anything, simply glaring at Harry, dark eyes shooting daggers at him.
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Allow me to introduce myself then," he growled. "I'm Harry Potter, Head of the Auror Office. You are a wanted thief and you are coming with me."
"Harry—" Dudley whispered, looking around worriedly, as if scared something might jump out at them. "Do you have to do this here? Anyone could come around at any moment and see us and—"
"Dudley, don't worry," Harry assured him. "I got him. I just need to Apparate him back to the Ministry real fast and then I'll come back and we can—I dunno, finish up and exchange addresses so we can send each other friendly Christmas Cards. I just need to—"
But before Harry could say another word he was punched hard in the face, causing Dudley to emit a very unmanly scream and Harry to grunt, glasses shattering.
Recovering, Harry held his wand to his eyes and yelled "Reparo!" loudly, fixing his glasses just in time to see Bartolouis running away, having broken free of Harry's body bind while he was distracted and yanked his wand out of Harry's hands.
"Stupefy!" Harry yelled, sending a jet of red light after the criminal, but the thief was too far ahead.
With a snarl Harry began to give chase, but stopped when he heard Dudley scream his name behind him. Turning, Harry saw the bewilderment and fear on his cousin's face at the magic that he had just witnessed and sighed, knowing he just couldn't leave his cousin here in the alleyway in this state, no matter how much he wanted to and no matter how much he wanted to give chase to Bartolouis.
With a quick glance at his escaping prisoner and the street that he was disappearing down, Harry realized with a jolt he knew where Bartolouis was headed. The entrance to the Leaky Cauldron was only a couple blocks away. He must be headed there. If he weren't, then he would have Disapparated the second he had gotten his wand back.
Another plan formulating itself in his mind, Harry turned on his heel and rushed back to Dudley.
"Harry—" Dudley squeaked, looking about ready to piss his pants. Harry wouldn't be surprised if he had already. "What—"
"Look, Dudley," Harry said hurriedly. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this. This isn't fair to you, but this is extremely important. I need to catch that man. I need you to trust me. Think you can do that?"
Dudley looked at Harry with wide, fearful eyes. "W-what are you going to do?" he bumbled. "H-he's gone, y-you can't possibly c-catch…"
"Yes I can," Harry said. "But I have to do something. Can you go somewhere?"
Dudley shook his head. "N-n-no," he whimpered. "Angelina is going to pick me up at f-four. I-I don't have anywhere to g-go."
Harry sighed. "Okay," he said, exhaling through his nose. He knew he could probably find some place for Dudley to stay at least until he caught Bartolouis, and he knew Dudley could too—he could at least go back to the café. But Dudley's mind was scrambled with fear and he was obviously not thinking straight or Harry figured he'd already have bolted, and there was no time for Harry to get him anywhere. He had two choices.
Leave Dudley hear to be possibly mugged, or bring him with.
With a sigh, Harry made his decision.
"Hold on tight," he said, and before Dudley could so much as utter a word, Harry grabbed him by his fat arm and Apparated on the spot.
As the feeling of being flushed down the toilet knocked the breath out of him, Harry grit his teeth and held onto Dudley tightly, ignoring his cousin's girly screams as he focused on the street of the Leaky Cauldron.
With a crack, they appeared on the street that Harry had been envisioning.
With a small chocking noise, Dudley moved away from Harry and retched all over the ground.
Harry just had a split second to feel bad for him before Bartolouis was sprinting down the street toward him, wand in hand.
With a gasp the criminal caught sight of Harry and turned, probably to Disapparate, but before he could move Harry pointed his wand at him and murmured "Stupefy."
With a flash of red light Bartolouis fell, wand spiraling out of his hand.
Walking over to the fallen thief Harry pulled him to his feet and with his wand quickly transfigured a soda can lying on the ground into a pair of handcuffs. Slapping them on Bartolouis' wrists and picking up his fallen wand, he turned to the frightened Muggle bystanders. "It's all right," he assured them. "I'm with the police. I only shot him with a dart filled with a formula to sedate him. He'll be all right."
To Harry's relief, the Muggle's seemed to buy the fabrication and went back to their business.
Dragging Bartolouis with him, Harry stalked back to Dudley, who was only just recovering from Apparating.
"You okay?" Harry asked.
"I-I-I…" Dudley spluttered. "How—what—"
"It's called Apparation," Harry explained. "All of-age wizards can legally do it to travel more efficiently. It usually makes people sick the first time; you'll be all right. Sorry for not warning you."
Dudley simply stared at him, looking like he was about to faint.
Harry smiled, holding out a hand and helping his poor cousin to his feet. Slowly, he led him into another out-of-the-way alley to let him recover.
"I have to bring this guy to the Ministry," Harry said, nodding at the unconscious Bartolouis. "I'll be right back. You just stay here and collect yourself, all right?"
Dudley simply whimpered in response. Harry gave him a slight pat on the back before Apparting to the Ministry and dropping the freshly caught criminal off at the Auror office, before Apparting straight back.
Dudley was still leaning against the wall where Harry had left him, looking quite sick. His eyes bugged when Harry reappeared with a crack in front of him again, looking like he was going to hurl for a second time.
Feeling bad for him, Harry cast a simple mental spell on him, relieving him of his sickness.
Dudley squeaked when Harry pointed his wand at him, but instantly felt better as the spell washed over him.
"Better?" Harry asked.
"Y-yeah," Dudley got out, straightening, still uncoordinated and flustered.
"Sorry about that," Harry apologized again.
"S'okay," Dudley said, though it was obviously not and Harry could tell that all he wanted was to run as far away as he could.
Sighing, Harry thought he should end this quick. Pulling out a piece of parchment, he quickly ripped off two small bits of the bottom. Digging a quill out of the depths of his jumper, he quickly scribbled a Muggle address on it. "This is the address that Ginny and I went through the trouble of getting just to make things easier for connecting with the Muggle community," Harry explained. "We have a personal mailbox in the closest post office to our house that we had requested to have all our mail put in. We told them are our house was just really hard to reach."
He handed it to Dudley, smiling sheepishly, before giving the other piece of parchment and the quill to him along with it.
"Mind writing down your address?" he asked. "Just so, y'know, I can maybe send you and Angelina a Christmas card during the holidays." He gave a weak smile. "Maybe you can send us some of those famous jelly donuts you mentioned?"
Dudley looked at Harry with eyes that clearly said that he didn't care in the slightest if he got a Christmas card from Harry, all he wanted was to get out of there, but he took the parchment nonetheless and wrote down his address, holding the quill awkwardly. He hesitated for a moment, before writing his phone number down as well, not meeting Harry's eyes as he handed the sheet and the quill back, stuffing Harry's address in his pocket.
Harry smiled weakly as he politely took the slip and the quill and tucked them away. "Thanks Big D," he said, running a hand through his messy hair awkwardly. "Um…we'll have to do this again some time?"
Dudley's eyes went wide again. "Do that again?"
"The coffee I meant," Harry said quickly. "Not the Apparation part."
Dudley looked relieved. "Sure, yeah, maybe," he said hurriedly, eyes darting toward the alley exit.
Harry hesitated for a moment. "Would you like me to, ah, Apparate you back to the café?" he asked slowly.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Dudley said, waving his hands in a motion that clearly showed his horror. "I can walk, I can walk!"
Harry nodded; relieved he didn't have to Apparate with Dudley again.
They stood there for a long moment in silence.
Then Harry sighed. "See you around then?" he said with a weak smile.
"Yeah," Dudley said, laughing forcefully. "See you around."
And with that, he left the alley, not looking back.
Harry sighed.
Well, at least he had tried. With a crack, he Apparated back to the Ministry, thinking maybe despite it being his day off it was best he got some work done regardless.
He didn't want to even think about who he'd end up running into otherwise.
.
.
Fin.