Title: Freak
Summary: HP/X-Men xover. Dudley asks a question but Harry never answers.
"What's it like to be a freak?" Dudley asked Harry.
He always asked Harry. He asked in anger, in disgust, in honest curiosity…but Harry never answered. Not once.
"What's it like to be a freak?" Dudley asked Harry, and his silence said something Dudley couldn't understand.
Then, of course, there were questions Dudley could have asked. There were questions he might have gotten answers to. He could've asked them but he didn't. He kept his mouth shut and he thought up all the unasked questions.
'Is it disgusting?' he wondered, as he thought of extra long tongues and pig's tails.
'Is it scary?' when Harry woke up screaming and crying for parents long gone.
'Is it tough?' every time he saw a new scar, too many times to seem right.
'Is it lonely?' when he saw Harry pounding the streets every night, alone, and steered his gang in the opposite direction.
There were questions after questions and then more questions that were against his very nature and tutelage to ask because he wouldn't know what to do if Harry answered in the positive.
'Is it fun?' when that redheaded family popped out of the fireplace and Harry's smile was a mile wide.
'Is it adventurous?' with thoughts of flying cars and sports on broomsticks.
"Is it better than here?' when he saw that calendar that counted down the days until September.
'Is it accepting?' thinking of big redheaded families and the pretty brown-haired girl.
And, of course, the most important of all, 'Is it worth it?' when he put all those questions together. And, damn it, he didn't have those answers and that was bad 'cause he was just supposed to know. He was taught that he was supposed to know.
Question after question and silence after silence and he feels like Harry is telling him something he just can't hear. Looks like he might say something once. He stares at Dudley but no words come out. Dudley throws a cup at him and holds back a scream, "I don't understand."
But Harry never answered. Not once.
And Dudley didn't understand. Not at all.
He didn't understand. He didn't comprehend. He didn't get it until he punches through a brick wall and the kid stares at him like he's a freak and Harry is there. He's standing to the side. He's staring. He's always staring. He's always watching. He's always looking and saying so much when he doesn't actually say a thing.
This time, his mouth opens, but it's not his words. It's Dudley's and it's coming back to bite him in the ass.
"What's it like to be a freak?"
And Dudley is silent.
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