A/N: This story is set in my "That's Life Together" Drarry universe, but it can be read alone. For those who have read those stories, this takes place in mid-September of 2008, after Christmas Memories and before To the Victors…
IWSC Competition Information
Title: Facing Demons
Theme: Beauxbatons - The past haunting you
Mandatory Prompt: [Event] Wedding
Additional Prompt: [Word] Dirt
Word Count: 1822
Year: 4
Additional Info: This is an alternate universe where Harry and Draco got together several years after the war, and Harry and Dudley eventually reconciled.
Warning: Implied homophobia, referenced canon child abuse and trauma
Facing Demons
"Come on, we're going to be late."
Harry scowled, but he pulled his suit jacket from the backseat of the car and slid it on. "This is going to be a disaster."
"Ah, yes, but it'll be an entertaining disaster," Draco said with a smirk as he joined Harry, his own jacket perfectly situated and somehow unwrinkled. He turned to Harry and began adjusting Harry's tie. "Besides, we already skipped the ceremony because you didn't want to cause a scene. We can't miss the reception as well."
Harry sighed. It was true. He couldn't miss the reception. He'd promised Dudley and Charlotte he'd be there, despite the ire he knew he'd draw from his aunt and uncle. He really despised the idea of ever having to see them again, even if he and Dudley saw each other regularly now.
It'd been nearly two years since they'd reunited and become friends. Draco and Charlotte were thick as thieves almost immediately, eagerly coaxing their boyfriends into monthly dinners and card parties. So, really, had Harry and Dudley even had a choice in forming a new relationship with his cousin?
Had Harry even wanted a choice? His cousin was different now—his edges softened, his humour actually funny when Harry wasn't the target, and his manners friendly. He was a friend in a way Harry had never imagined he'd be.
"Harry, look at me." Harry met those cool grey eyes. "Dudley has already told them you're coming and that if they don't like it, they shouldn't attend. He wants you there, so you'll be there."
Harry forced a smile, then straightened his shoulders and nodded. "Right. Let's do this."
Draco patted Harry's cheek with a grin. "And if you need me to curse anybody, just point."
That drew a laugh, and Harry took Draco's hand to walk towards the reception where Dudley, Charlotte, and their guests all waited.
The large, white wedding marquee was bright with fairy lights in the mid-September evening as Harry and Draco followed the other guests into the tent. White and pale green cascades of flowers were tastefully distributed on all the tables, and low candles flickered in little bowls, reminding Harry of the painting of a fairy garden Luna had given him.
Across the room, the bride and groom greeted guests, Charlotte's silky brown hair twisted back from her face and falling in soft curls over her shoulders. Her lace dress was simple, but it suited her small frame and let her kind, round face and bright brown eyes stand out. Dudley looked on from her side, his dark-blond hair falling into his face when he leaned down, whispering something in his new wife's ear.
A band played softly in the corner, and the sound of an old ballad shifted through Harry's senses. "Champagne?" Draco asked, interrupting Harry's musings as a waiter passed by with a tray.
Harry shook his head. His stomach was already in disarray. He didn't need to add bubbles to it.
"All right. Enough of this." Draco took Harry's arm and tugged him towards the table laid out with cheese and fruit as starters. "You'll feel better once you eat. I swear you've hardly touched a bite since we got up this morning."
Draco pushed his way through the milling guests and around the scattered tables, pulling Harry behind him until he came to a sudden stop and Harry nearly ran him over.
There, like demons from some half-remembered nightmare, stood Petunia and Vernon.
They were older, of course, but Merlin, when did they get old? Petunia's once-blonde hair was more grey than not under her pale-blue fascinator, and though Harry assumed she chose that colour to match her eyes and dress, it only served to wash her out and draw more attention to the prominent teeth she hated so much.
Vernon, however, was the bigger surprise.
He'd always loomed larger than life in Harry's memory. While Petunia had been full of spite and neglect, Harry had always known somehow—maybe it was that look she got in her eyes sometimes when she thought he wasn't watching—that she wouldn't really hurt him. But Vernon had been a threat, and if Harry were utterly truthful with himself, he'd admit that Vernon featured in more of his bad memories than even Voldemort did.
But Vernon seemed so small now, about an inch or two shorter than Harry, his bulk still prominent but less intimidating. His head was mostly balding with a few thin hairs brushed over the top in an awkward attempt to hide it. His grey moustache made his eyes look beady behind his wireframe glasses, and though he was glaring at Harry with obvious hatred, Harry could only stare back and ponder his reaction.
What do I feel?
No fear. No anger. He'd expected those, but they were conspicuously absent, leaving Harry slightly bewildered. He knew himself well enough to recognise the acceptance that settled into his chest. Acceptance that these people before him no longer held any pull over him. Acceptance that they wouldn't ever change, even if their son had. Acceptance that he needed to let it all go if he was going to move on.
He'd deserved more as a child. He knew that now, and as much as his therapist tried to convince him it was his relatives' failing, not his, the pang in his stomach still reminded him of what he'd lost. But he couldn't go back and change that any more than he could change their hatred.
A squeeze to Harry's hand reminded him of Draco's presence, and he realised everyone around him had grown silent. Not that he could draw his eyes from his aunt and uncle to look.
"Petunia. Vernon. Congratulations on a lovely reception," Harry said, his voice polite and neutral and sounding nothing like his own. "This is my boyfriend, Draco."
Petunia's gaze swept from Harry to Draco, her eyes dropping to their joined hands and her lips pursing tightly. Vernon's face reddened, and he took a step towards them as if he could intimidate them by such a simple movement.
Draco, however, took his hand from Harry's and wrapped his arm around Harry's waist. "My, my, Harry. You never told me what a lovely couple your aunt and uncle are. I had no idea a horse and walrus could mate. It's good Dudley must have taken more after your own mother, or else I'd fear for our dear Charlotte's sanity." He placed his other hand on Harry's chest, snuggling into him and casting a flirty glance up at Harry before looking back at Petunia. "Lily made such a handsome son, didn't she? I can hardly keep my hands to myself."
Harry choked as Draco's other hand dropped to Harry's backside and gave a gentle squeeze that neither Petunia nor Vernon could overlook. It was flamboyant and over the top, and while Draco might often be the latter, he was never the former. This was an act aimed at needling the people in front of them, and Harry found he was beginning to enjoy himself.
"You dirty, filthy little—"
"Mum, I don't think you want to finish that sentence." Dudley stepped up behind Harry, setting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry and Draco are our guests, and I've asked them to join me at the family table."
"Not only has he brought a date who's clearly one of them, but he's flaunting his disgusting lifestyle to all who'll watch," Petunia hissed at her son, her eyes darting between them.
Vernon grunted his agreement. "Probably diseased. Marge was right from the beginning. Should have put him down—"
Harry was an Auror. He had been for nearly a decade, but he couldn't do anything to stop the two men, one on each side of him, who simultaneously lunged at Vernon. Dudley got there first, pushing his father back out of Draco's reach and into a corner where Harry couldn't make out anything other than Dudley's low snarl.
Draco shifted directions towards Petunia, but Charlotte stepped up and took his hand, her other in Harry's. "Petunia, Dudley and I think you both should leave. You're disturbing our party, and we'd like to get back to it. Harry, Draco"—she wrapped one hand around each of their elbows—"I want to introduce you to my mother and sisters. They're dying to meet you both. I've told them all about you, and my dad is eager to share police stories with you, Harry."
"Charlotte," Petunia snapped, and she reached out to grab the lace of the young bride's sleeve. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. He's tainted, dirty, and no good will come from being around him." She shot a glare at Harry, one he'd seen more times in his life than he cared to count, but her eyes softened as she looked back at her new daughter-in-law. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
Charlotte cocked up one side of her mouth into a sly smile, one that reminded Harry slightly of Draco's when he was about to deliver a particularly cutting remark to an enemy. "I certainly do, actually. Being around Harry is absolutely…magical, don't you think?"
Petunia gasped at the realisation that Harry and Dudley had clearly told Charlotte about magic, yet Charlotte still accepted them. She dropped her hand, stumbling back. "But—"
Dudley's firm voice cut her off. "Dad is waiting for you at the entrance, Mum. It's been a long day. I think you should go home." He kissed her cheek. "Good night."
Harry watched, stunned, as his cousin turned his back on his mother, gathered his new wife in his arms, and kissed her deeply to the cheers of everyone around. Including Harry. And when Harry glanced back, Petunia was gone.
Warm arms wrapped around Harry's waist. "Are you okay? You didn't say much."
Harry leaned back into the embrace and considered. "For so many years, I fought back against them. I was so alone, so angry and hurt and miserable, and I lashed out whenever I could. They were terrible to me, and I was terrible back."
Draco growled. "You didn't deserve what they did to you."
"No, I didn't. That's not what I'm trying to say."
"Then what?"
"I didn't need to fight back tonight." He watched Dudley escort Charlotte out onto the dance floor and move to the music. "He's not that much older than me, you know. But he was so much bigger, and when we were little, I remember wishing he could be like a real big brother. One that looked out for me instead of trying to hurt me."
"Harry," Draco murmured, his voice low and pained in Harry's ear.
"But tonight…" Harry trailed off, his throat thick with emotion. "Tonight, he was."
And when Dudley and Charlotte introduced them to their friends and Charlotte's family, that's how Dudley referred to him.
"This is Harry, my family."
Finis
Endnote: If you'd like to see more of this universe, check out my That's Life Together series in my user profile. If you'd just like to see more of Charlotte and Dudley, look for chapters 2 and 17 in Christmas Memories, and then again in You are Cordially Invited, where you'll see them attend Harry and Draco's wedding in return.
