Although he shouldn't be surprised, Dudley was somehow surprised he was here at the Quidditch pitch. Between Harry and almost the entirety of the first year Slytherins, they'd gotten him away from his books and research and practicing wandwork. He'd put the blame and final straw onto Neville though. Neville had made his way over to their table that morning, ducking his head at the looks he garnered as Hermione strode chin up beside him, and then looked completely stunned when Draco answered him.

"Do you...you think it'd be all right if we watch the game together?" Dudley had stilled at the question. "I know there's the whole rivalry between our houses, but—"

"If we can convince him to join us down to the pitch. Dursley says he's thinking of taking advantage of the quiet to keep with his recent incessant reviewing." The boy had turned back to stare disbelievingly at Dudley. "It's Quidditch."

Neville's head had spun over to Dudley, mouth agape as he stared at him. "You're not going?" And Neville had just stood there with that same look stuck on his face. Even Hermione had seemed taken aback. With a glance about the table-Draco with his raised eyebrow and Daphne coolly peering over the edge of Witch Weekly and Theodore lazily switching from gazing at Neville to Harry and Harry leaning forward with an anticipating grin-Dudley slumped. He wanted to go after all. Maybe he was being silly or taking it too far.

"I'm going."

Harry had whooped and cheered loudly. "Of course you're going! Hurry up Dud, we gotta get good seats, I bet Hermione's never been!"

There'd been complaints out of Draco and Pansy about allowing Hermione to tag along, Hermione going pink in the cheeks as she insisted it wasn't that big of a deal as she wasn't really that much into most sports after all, but they all made it to the pitch and claimed a piece of the stands for themselves among the other early fans. There had been, and still a few now, odd stares over at the group of first years because of the two clearly not Slytherin students. Yet no one had made comment over it despite the looks every now and again. Considering the types of fans he'd seen at Quidditch matches they'd gone to, Dudley quickly realized why on the looks. Sabotage. Revenge. The only reason he could guess no one said anything was because they were just first years. What could two first year Gryffindors do while surrounded by the entire Slytherin first years and the upper years of Slytherin all in the area?

"Did you see that?" Harry shouted. Most of the Slytherin first years let out woots of excitement. Twisting about to get a better look to see that, yes, that was excitement, Dudley turned to share a look with his cousin. Someone else beat Harry before he could speak up though.

"That's terrible!" Hermione sputtered out from where her and Neville stood just in front of Dudley and Harry. The binoculars that were up at her eyes were quickly at her side as she spun about. Neville carefully snuck a hand in and gave an experimental tug. She let go of them without a fight. He raised up the binoculars and made for a closer watch at the free shot for Gryffindor. "McLaggen barely hung on! He could have been really hurt by that stunt!"

"Muggleborn," Pansy scoffed. "You don't know anything."

Harry scrunched up his nose. "What I think she means is about professors being here to cast spells for safer landings. Like they'll do for league play."

"It's a common tactic," Draco explained with an air of importance. Then groaned as Gryffindor made the free shot. "Block the seeker and draw the foul so you can take advantage of more time to catch up on points."

"True. But Flint was much closer on the knocking into him than blocking into him." Harry's nose scrunched up again at that, looking up and clearly trying to decide how much of that was on purpose or due to lack of experience compared to those who played the sport for a living. Dudley glanced up as well, thinking it was more on purpose or at least not minding that's what wound up happening when Flint blocked the Gyffindor seeker.

"It worked." Draco shrugged it off and Hermione looked ready to burst at his blasé attitude. But Draco's face lit up, leaning where he was at to get a better look down at Harry. "But that reminds me Potter, I don't think we've ever discussed leagues. What's your favorite league team? Falmouth Falcons I bet."

Both Dudley and Harry turned with outrage. "No!"

Neville laughed, coughing to cover it up. Curious, Hermione stared at them. "What's wrong with the Falmouth Falcons?"

"What's wrong with them? Everything!"

"Hey, not everything Potter," Draco said as though he was thinking of arguing for the team. Then his mouth quirked up and made for a joking tone instead. "How the Chudley Cannons are still a team are beyond me."

Dudley thought Draco seemed disappointed at not getting a reaction out of Harry at that. However, Harry was still upset over how anyone could think he'd support the Falmouth Falcons. His cousin was delivering such a look of betrayal, it appeared to be affecting Draco. Enough that Draco explained himself.

"I thought you'd say something like that. Because it sounds like fowl mouth and because of those card games you showed us at the start of the year."

Harry's face cleared up. "Oh yeah, I probably would! Except Quidditch is an exception. Well, mostly."

"Actually," Hermione said shrewdly. "I don't think that being your reasoning would surprise me. So, what, exactly, is wrong with the Falmouth Falcons?"

"Exact opposite of the kinds of teams they cheer for," Neville answered her.

Gregory cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself. Draco shrugged at it. Which left Dudley wondering just how much Gregory and Vincent followed the Malfoy scion's lead. More than any of the rest of them humored Draco it seemed. Because, as though he was given permission to speak, Gregory did so, speaking with his soft voice. "Don't see what's wrong with them. They're my favorite team." Shocked, Dudley wasn't alone in giving Gregory a jaw dropping look at Gregory. Harry was doing so next to him. The other Slytherins shrugged, apparently not as invested about it to really care. "They make each game exciting."

"With all that rule breaking?"

"What's wrong with that?" Vincent spoke up. "All teams break rules. They know what they want. To win."

"What are you Potter, a Hufflepuff? And here we've been joking you're our stolen and token Gryffindor."

Dudley winced. It was too close to what happened in Albus's office after the troll. The reason he'd taken on a whole new thing to research outside of schoolwork goals he had set up for himself. Harry spun and shouted at Draco, spitting. "I'm a Slytherin! With Dudley!"

"With some very much Gryffindor tendencies. And Hufflepuff." Draco paused. "Yeah, okay, Hufflepuff-like, that fits you."

"Between rule breaking and their motto," Dudley spoke up dryly. "'Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads.' They're not exactly a team anyone cheers for when we go to matches. Any team we cheer on is one that focuses on the teamwork. Like the Wimbourne Wasps."

Harry grinned and quickly shot back. "Hollyhead Harpies!"

Draco's mouth dropped. And his wasn't the only one at that declaration. "But...but they're the witches team."

"They're flashy and acrobatic," Harry fired back gleefully. "The teamwork is amazing, but they're so much more fun to watch pulling off stunts like that then the Wimbourne Wasps. They're just...solid. Not much spontaneity."

At Harry's sniff, Dudley shook his head at the dramatics with a grin. "Which means they fumble and mess up more often, more prone to displays of showing off and sparking trouble among the chasers and beaters. Not like the Wasps." Amused at the gapping faces, he let them in on it a bit. "The Potter Cottage is agrees on excellent teamwork, but is split between the Harpies and Wasps. I'm with Uncle James with the better Wasps—" "Better, ha!" "—and Harry is with his mom in cheering on the Harpies. Sirius and his cousin Andromeda along with Nymphadora—" Harry grinned and giggled at the use of her first name. "—side along with the Harpies. Peter and Ted are with me and Uncle James with the Wasps. Albus usually goes along with them too to make it even, except if Puddlemore United is on the pitch. Which, they're a good team too, but..."

Harry wiggled his nose. "It's just not as much fun since we're all about trash talking each other's teams. And with Puddlemore, well, there's no fun with it. Not like with the Harpies or Wasps." Then he cheered up visibly and teased, "Still means us Harpies got more than your Wasps."

Gobsmacked, the entire group around them, goggled.

"You left me out," Neville said a bit dejectedly. "I'd make it even. Except, Gran doesn't really...accept invitations to join when it involves Harry's dad and godfather."

"Albus Dumbledore supports Puddlemore United?"

"You call him Albus?"

Harry blinked. "Yeah. And yeah. We've always called him Albus." Catching the tail-end of what the announcer was going on about, being told off by Professor McGonagall yet again, Harry cracked up laughing. "Who is this guy and where can I find him?"

"You've already tried that," Hermione said crossly.

Harry blinked down at her and frowned. "I did?"

"He di—oh right. Lee Jordan's a third year Gryffindor."

"Biased announcer much," Pansy sniffed. Millicent and Tracey nodded fiercely beside her.

Making an unpleasant face, Hermione added, "And the Weasley twins' friend."

"Very biased," Draco agreed. "Disgusting use of favoritism to the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress's own house. Go, go, go!"

The Slytherin chasers had gotten a hold of the quaffle and were having a decent run as they made their way to the Gryffindor goal posts. Gryffindor's chasers were having a hard time catching up, when they did, the quaffle switched hands among the Slytherin chasers quickly enough to keep the Gryffindors scrambling. Arm rearing back Flint flew past both Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell of Gryffindor and threw it in past the reaching arms of Oliver Wood. The Gryffindor keeper mouthed something, then flew back up into position, determination etched thicker across his face.

Meanwhile, their entire section burst out into cheers, stamping their feet at Slytherin team's first 10 points of the match. Being polite, Neville clapped his hands together a couple of times and, looking baffled at the sheer amount of noise over this, Hermione did the same, not looking sold with her dubious clap. There were groans and creaks in the stands as their side celebrated. And then a sharp snap.

"Is that...normal?" Pulling herself apart from Neville, Hermione stepped back into a Slytherin third year, but had her hands outwards as she pushed them all apart. Dudley stepped back, Harry following suit, the four of them looking were she was looking. There were grumblings from those around them as they bumped into them. But there was then enough room to see what Hermione was talking about and most everyone's eyes went wide. "That wasn't there before, I'm sure of it!"

"It's just a crack," said the older Slytherin boy next to her, giving her a nudge back over. "These stands are old, nothing new about that. It holds up fine."

Frazzled, Hermione stumbled back, trying not to step too close to the crack going up from her and Neville's spot to where Dudley and Harry stood just one row up behind them. The other first year Slytherins grouped around it tightly, getting a longer and better look at it. Theodore was the one who spoke. "I saw it. It just happened when we were cheering. She's right, that was not there before."

There was a silence among the first years, then Harry broke it. "I'll test it!" And Dudley's heart leapt up to his throat as Harry jumped before he could make a move to stop his cousin. In the hush, Harry's thud back down on the stands seemed to echo, all eyes on him. With a couple of bounces on his heels, green eyes looked up from his feet, smile flashing. "All good!"

Dudley pulled his cousin back away from the crack near their feet, Harry smiling wider and giggling about what he'd done now.

"Harry!" Flabbergasted, Hermione stood there, aghast. "You don't... I can't believe you! Well, I think we should still inform a professor about it."

Still laughing over Harry actions, Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Please, Potter just tested it for us. Resourceful, if not showcasing exactly what kind of house raised him in how he did so. Seeing that face on you...worth it," he finished with a relish.

Huffing, she swiped the binoculars back from Neville and peered over to the booth where the professors and Lee Jordon was at. "Look, Professor Snape is already looking over here." And headless of any animosity that the Potions professor gave her or other Slytherins, Hermione raised up her hand and waved. Ignoring any of the stunned looks when she finally lowered the binoculars, she said smugly, "He's on his way over."

"Imagine if you fell and got injured," Dudley said under his breath to Harry. Then gave his cousin a jab. Harry startled, then the color drained from his face as he seemed to realize, head swiveling from the crack to Dudley's arm where a thin scratch still lay underneath the cloak.

"I didn't...I don't want hurt you Dud." Harry's voice sounded strangled and he'd gone subdued again, just like he had when Albus had shared his theory.

Of course, Albus also said he only believe it would activate once. That Dudley being magical had happened already and Harry not loosing too much blood had happened already. It tended to fit how things like this work, as much as their situation could be compared to anything. So it'd been a comfort of sorts. Yet Dudley had been taking it up as an additional research in the library, overly worried on the chance it would not prove to be true. And to find out more about their situation rather than just accepting it, accepting without too much thought of what was behind him being a wizard. He'd just kind of went with it...even if he spent enough time worrying about people knowing some way or what kind of wizard to call him or setting out to be the best and get the full exposure and take in as much of this world as he could as he was part of it. The only real test to Ablus's idea and what Aunt Lily agreed with in her knowledge of it, would be Harry getting injured again and seeing what happened to Dudley.

"I know Har. Albus said it wouldn't, but..."

Harry's mouth quirked up. "You're worried about me getting hurt anyway, aren't you?"

"With you? Always."

And his cousin laughed. Then sobered. "Don't worry. I won't forget. But...I don't think one person compared to the whole stands was going to make that crack worse."

Dudley jabbed him, mock scowling. "You only thought of that now."

"Caught!" Harry threw his hands up like he was at gun point, laughing again.

"Caught what exactly Potter," drawled a voice. They both pulled away from their previous whispering and looked up to see their head of house, whose gaze quickly zeroed in on the two Gryffindor scarves in their midst. "And why, pray tell, does the Slytherin stands have a pair of Gryffindors?"

"Bribery," Draco responded, completely unabashedly. Despite any of his previous arguments. "To make sure the first years stood in house solidarity at the first match of the year. It guaranteed all Slytherin members attending to support our team. Additionally, Neville Longbottom applauded Slytherin's first points of the match."

"Sir, Professor Snape," Hermione broke in. "Look. This appeared only a few minutes ago."

Shouts and cheers and stamping filled the stands around them again. Dudley glanced up, having lost track of the match in the issue of the crack and his worry of why he almost didn't come to the first match of the school year. It appeared as though Slytherin had scored again. And in swooping across, Dudley leaned as he tried to look, a Slytherin chaser snatched the quaffle from a pass to score again. The stamping grew louder, cheering louder, the next snap louder.

Their section scrambled, screaming and yelling at others to get out of their way as they tried to push against the crowds.

"Calm yourselves," squeaked a voice above the noise, sounding like Professor Flitwick.

Another voice added onto his voice and Dudley couldn't stop himself from looking, even in the pushing and shoving, trying to get an idea of who was there to help. Professor McGonagall. "Kindly refrain yourselves from shoving! Professor Snape will repair the damage! Please step to the sides of the Slytherin section!"

There was cracking and the split through the wood grew, shooting across and underneath. "Neville!" Dudley reached down to the row below. Harry's arms reached down as well, Neville's round face flushed as he scrambled to get away from the crack that'd grown underneath his feet. With a huge tug, they got him up. And then Harry dropped. Dudley grabbed a hold of his cousin's arm as his foot disappeared into the large crack.

"This way," Hermione screeched.

"Over here! Potter! Dursley! Longbottom! Over here!"

There was a shout, a spell casted. "Repario!" The chaos slowed. Everyone gaining some calm as they saw Professor Snape taking care of the crack. Then, in about two seconds, the calm disappeared as the crack in the stands shot all the way up and grew as the stands started pulling apart. "Jump toward the pitch!"

"What? But the ground must be—"

Those in the stands moved, covering up the rest of what Hermione was saying. Dudley didn't move either, but they were pushed toward the edge. Several students had already clambered onto the divide, pulling others up. Then, a group of Slytherin students glanced back to their head of house, got a nod as he held his wand up, and they jumped off.

"Arresto momentum!"

"First and second years who haven't learned the charm, get over to the pitch! Upper years, help get the younger years down!"

Before Dudley knew it, he found himself and his cousin and Neville and Hermione and Theodore and all the other first years had been pushed to the front, the whole jump looking terrifying. Even if he had gotten to the point on a broom that this wasn't scary, this was. Harry grabbed his hand and Neville clung to his other, then before he could even process anything with the chaos, they were pushed off the edge. Groups of students fell around them, screaming until the charm slowed their movement down to a soft landing on the Quidditch pitch.

Green scarves filled up the pitch, eyes upraised as Professor Snape now had the aid of a few upper years as well as Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall directing students out of the stands with the same charm. A few who had managed to get to the stairs in all the mess, were clinging to one side as the bottom part of the crack had gone sideways and split the stairway. Professor McGonagall directed them safely down after they got her attention before jumping off. With all the students off, she raised her wand and shouted, "Accio Nimbus 1500!" In a matter of seconds, as the stands groaned and creaked apart and nearly knocked Professor Flitwick off his feet, a broomstick fly to Professor McGonagall's open hand. "Go ahead and jump!"

And, with giving the shorter professor a hand up to the ledge, Professor Snape and Flitwick jumped, Professor McGonagall casting the charm for their slower fall and safe landing with the students. Then she mounted her broomstick and flew off of the unstable section of the stadium. Professor Snape's black cloak was already snapping and swooping behind him as he moved among the students, checking for any visible injuries before striding back to the stands.

Cheers burst across the stands and the students standing around them on the pitch cheered and Lee Jordan's voice was heard over the cheers.

"That's it! Gryffindor's won the match against Slytherin! At a final score of 170 to 60! Gryffindor's won!"

Everyone on the pitch went silent, heads going skyward to see the end result of the game playing out above them, a few players in green zooming down to the crowd as they called out for a sibling or relative or friend.

"Of course," Draco finally said. "They cheered for Gryffindor winning."

"That's not right," Hermione sputtered out angrily.

Draco's eyebrows went up as his head spun over to look at her. She stepped back into Dudley and Neville, who still had tears from sobbing earlier on his face. Then her chin went up, daring him to say she was wrong. After a moment of appraisal, Draco's eyes went to Dudley and Harry. "I think I just may not hate this muggleborn," he informed them. And then turned back to Blaise, Hermione standing there speechless as it appeared someone had finally done it, made her go silent in sheer utter confusion of how exactly to take that comment.

"Er, I think that's a good thing," Dudley suggested to her. "With what Harry and I grew up hearing about his family. I'm more concerned at how that just happened."

With his reminder to what just happened and they'd jumped off of, all four of them stared up to the Slytherin section of stands, a great big yawing hole stretching down and over to the stairwell. It wasn't until he looked up at it, that Dudley thought about how perfect that was. Right through the middle of their section and taking out the path to enter and leave that section. They'd been lucky Hermione had gotten the attention of the professors, all three of them making it over before it took out the path to the section. But...it was almost as though that had been done on purpose, not through time and excited stamping on the stands.

Left leg suddenly twinging and hurting from twisting around and his turn of thoughts, Dudley reached down and rubbed at it, still staring up at the stands the rest of the students who'd been in the other sections were only starting to realize looked like that, voices all abuzz in question.

Author's Note: Well, that took off on me halfway through. Had some fun looking up league teams and making up my own things for them to go along in my head though. Also, just couldn't resist to give McGonagall a Nimbus since that's the brand she gave Harry in the books. I figure she picked it for a reason. Man, I tell you, still feels a bit weird to be writing about Dudley after all this time. But, I do hope to keep Sunday updates going for a while. That's my goal for this November. Not a full 50K for words, but I'm aiming for at least half of that with other life things going on. So, it's also weird that I was writing about Dudley on a day that wasn't Sunday. But since my little one-shot 'What If' seems to have become it's own little story...I'm going for it! Thank you to the favorite and follows and to the reviewer Lady Mage.