Dudley pushed open the heavy oak door that led to the retirement home. As soon as he stepped in, the smell of despair pushed its way into his nose, nearly choking him. He hated the large building that tried hard to be cheerful with the paintings hung on the brightly coloured walls. Most of all, he hated that his dad was trapped here, that he belonged here.
As his feet traced the familiar path thought of his father and was reminded of a jovial grin as he left for work after kissing Dudley's mother on the cheek. He thought of his face turning red as he defended Dudley when the neighbours accused him of vandalism. When he thought of his father, Dudley didn't think of the grey-haired old man who looked forward to daily visits from his still-mobile wife.
"Hi, Dad," greeted Dudley as he eased himself into the chair next to his father's bedside. Today, Vernon was propped up in bed, watching a muted television through thick glasses.
Vernon laboriously turned his head to face Dudley. His face lit up. "My boy!" he said, his voice raspy. "How are my dear grandchildren?"
Dudley sighed. Not again. "They won't come and visit you anymore, remember?"
His father's head lolled against the pillows. "Why not? We're family."
"The last time they were here," Dudley began carefully, "you screamed at them. You made Beatrice cry, Dad." He tried not to let the words sound accusatory, but he couldn't help the bitterness that seeped into his tone.
Vernon struggled to sit up further. "I wouldn't do that."
Dudley placed his hand on his father's shoulder and pushed him gently back onto the pillows. "You did."
The old man's face was a picture of confusion. Part of Dudley wanted to gloss over the past, but the honest and bitter part of him controlled his mouth. "My children are like Harry, Dad. They have magic. I love them, and I love their world."
"Magic?" spluttered Vernon, his face growing red. "There is no magic in my family!"
Dudley stood up. He'd had enough. "My kids are magic, whether you like it or not. And they aren't just magic for what they can do with a wand, and if you won't accept that, then it's your loss."
Vernon's eyes had lost their focus; he seemed to be staring at the yellow wallpaper. "Go," was all he managed to croak. Or was he saying no? Either way, Dudley was done with his father's attitude.
"I'll tell Mum I'm not coming back until you learn to not be such a bigot. Goodbye, Dad."
A/N: it's been a year and I reward you all with Vernon and Dudley Dursley? Apologies, I'm not feeling very inspired. I know the Dursley's aren't the most exciting, but leave a review if you can!