word count: 777

Warnings: child abuse and neglect


His mother doesn't pack his lunch or make sure he is bundled up warmly. Really, Piers isn't sure if his mother notices that he leaves for school at all. Maybe she doesn't care; maybe she's just glad to be rid of him for the day.

"Bye, Mum!" he calls because he wants to pretend he's a normal six year old with parents who actually love him. There is no answer, not that he expected one at all.

And so he goes, walking through the rain with his bag over his head, though it doesn't offer any real protection from the freezing, unrelenting droplets that fall and splash against his skin. He tells himself this is fine. Lots of kids walk to school. There's nothing strange about this. His parents are just busy.

Sometimes he almost believes the lies he tells himself.

He sits against the wall of the gymnasium. The rain hasn't let up, so the kids can't play outside. Piers hates it. At least outside, he can slip away unnoticed, hiding behind a tree or lying in the tall grass. When he can disappear, no one really notices him, and he likes it much better that way. In the gymnasium, though, everyone can see him, and he knows they stare. He knows they have to notice the way he's just a little too skinny, or the way he always has bruises and cuts and scrapes that he can't explain without stuttering and panicking because what if they learn the truth?

"Don't you wanna play?"

Piers looks up. He vaguely recognizes Dudley, though the two of them have never spoken to each other. Why is the blond boy suddenly so interested in him now? He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

It would be nice if Dudley would just go away. Piers doesn't like questions. Questions are dangerous. Questions could mean someone figures out his life isn't normal, and he doesn't know what he would do then.

But there's a part of him that likes it. Piers has never had any friends. All he's ever done is watched others play, wishing he could be a part of that. "I just... don't," he answers, wringing his hands together.

Dudley snorts and sits down beside him. No one has ever sat with Piers before, and it makes his heart flutter. "Me neither," he says. "It's stupid."

Piers nods. He doesn't really agree, but he thinks he would do literally anything to make sure Dudley likes him. "Yeah. Stupid," he says, and he nods his head with a little more enthusiasm.

"Want some chocolate?" Dudley asks, pulling out a bar.

Piers is never allowed to eat chocolate. His mother once screamed at him and locked him in the closet for two whole days because the neighbor gave him chocolate when he was four. She had told him that boys like him, nasty little bastards don't deserve sweets. Now, part of him is afraid, and his hand trembles as he holds it out. "Yes, please."

..

It's still raining when school ends. Piers sighs, prepared to walk home in the downpour once again. This is his normalcy, even if it might be weird to anyone else looking in on his life. He's learned to accept it.

"Hey! Hey, Piers! You aren't walking, are you?" Dudley asks, catching him by the arm and making him flinch.

"Y-yeah," Piers answers. "I always do."

The other boy snorts and links his arm with Piers'. "Don't be stupid. My dad can take you home. Come on."

Piers thinks he should probably say no, but he's too excited. This is what life is supposed to be like. Kids are supposed to have parents who love them and care. Maybe Piers will never experience that first-hand, but at least he can have a glimpse of it. "Thanks, mate."

With that, he gets in the car. The boys laugh and chat the whole way, like they're the best of friends, and have been their whole lives. It's different, but in the best way possible.

Piers doesn't feel so lost and lonely anymore. Dudley has found him, and he finally has a friend to make things okay.

...

His mother screams at him for bothering Mr. Dursley and accepting a ride home. She tells him useless he is, how all he does is cause problems for everyone he meets. At one point, she even slams him against the wall and digs her nails into his arm until he cries.

It hurts, but maybe it's okay. Dudley will be waiting for him at school tomorrow. There is finally a silver lining, and maybe, just maybe, he can get through this.