Author's Note: I do not and never will own Harry Potter.
Written for the Pairing a Day Challenge. Dudley/Piers.
"So where's your cousin?" Piers asks, kicking a stone down the street. Dudley's hand clenches, stopping the near-reflex to rub the seat of his trousers where the pig's tail had finally been removed.
"School," Dudley remembers to answer. "St. Brutus's."
"Nice," Piers grunts in appreciation. He's a scrawny boy, with a rather ratty face and scruffy dark hair, but he looks great to Dudley.
"Hope he never comes back," Dudley says. He's bound for Smeltings in a few hours, him and Piers both, but he relishes this moment, with watery light streaming down on both of them, saying an unconscious goodbye to Privet Drive.
Piers laughs, an unpleasant, grating chuckle.
"Then who would we play with?" he snickers. Dudley can't quite join in the laughter this time, though he tries for old time's sake. He remembers Hagrid, the giant of a man who pointed a pink umbrella at him and tried to turn him into a pig, the man who said Harry was a wizard, and his parents had been, too, before they were murdered.
"Think Smeltings will be fun?" Dudley asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He knows what his father says. But he also knows that Vernon doesn't really know much. Especially not about the ways of children. Not anymore.
"We'll make it fun," Piers declares, stopping and hooking a stray stick between his trainers. "You'll uh, look out for me? Won't you?"
"Always," Dudley vows, not caring how stupid it sounds, like he's one of those weeping, over-emotional girls on Petunia's television shows. "C'mon, it's almost time to go."