First off, I'd best say right off the bat, I'm not JK Rowling, and I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Notes:

Just so you know, this is the first story I'll have ever put on Fanfiction, so I'd appreciate any reviews you'd like to give me letting me know what you think. Good? Bad? Ugly? Some constructive criticism would be great, as well as any encouragement you may want to give me. Or flame me. Whatever.

This idea basically came to me, What if the Dursleys had had another son, a year younger, who turned out to be a muggle born? And to make things interesting, I made him gay too.

WARNING: This story will eventually contain slash, as well as mpreg themes.

But that's not going to be for quite a while yet, as Brandon Dursley is still pretty young at the beginning of this story. In fact, this story is listed under genres adventure and friendship, not romance, because I may write this story in multiple volumes, and if I do, it likely won't be until the next one that any kind of romance really emerges.

I'm not a hundred percent sure who I'm going to pair him with yet, but I do have my main candidates chosen already, though I choose not to reveal them thus far. Feel free to let me know what you think on the matter, though don't expect your opinions to change anything. I will say definitively, right now though, that Draco Malfoy will never be paired with this particular OC in this story.

Update 05-15-16: Well, I've added a cover image to the story. I'm casting William Moseley (who played Peter Pevensie in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe and Prince Caspian) as Brandon Dursley.

Anyway, without further ado:

Chapter 1

As the Dursley family were all enjoying a fine breakfast - prepared by Harry, as always - Brandon was surprised when his father spoke, "Get the mail, Dudley." Vernon never had Dudley do anything, it was always Harry, and If their cousin wasn't available to perform any menial tasks, they were always delegated to Brandon next and Dudley last.

So it wasn't altogether surprising that Dudley would protest, "But I'm eating! Make Harry get it." Of course this wasn't true; he'd already finished, and Harry had only just been allowed to sit and eat his portion.

Unperturbed, the whalish Dursley patriarch predictably redirected his demand, "Get the mail, Harry."

At this, Brandon spoke up, "I can get it."

Harry gave him a smile and replied, "Thanks Bran."

After he strode through the kitchen and down the hall to the front door, he found the small pile of letters lying in front of the door under the mail slot. Looking through them real quick, one caught his eye for it's bold green ink and wax seal on the other side with a strange coat of arms. But what really took him aback was the address:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

"Come on son, hurry up!" Vernon yelled. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" he could hear his father chortling at his own joke.

More than a little puzzled at the specificity of the address, Brandon made his way back to the kitchen. First he handed his father his mail, then he sat back down at his spot at the table and subtly handed Harry his letter, whose eyebrows promptly furrowed in confusion.

"Mine?" Harry mouthed quietly.

"Just look at the address, dumb dumb," Brandon whispered very quietly.

Harry only just managed to break the seal when Dudley saw. "Dad! Harry's got something." He then proceeded to yank it out of Harry's hand.

"Hey, give it back! It's mine." Harry yelled.

"Yours?" Vernon said with a nasty smirk, as he snatched it from Dudley. "Who'd be writing to you?"

But after he opened it and glanced over it, the smile fell from his face which blanched considerably.

"P-P-Petunia!"

After taking it and looking at the first line, she didn't look much better. "Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"

"I want to read that letter." Dudley said loudly.

"It's Harry's letter to read, not yours." Brandon told him, indignant on his cousin's behalf.

"Get out, all three of you." Vernon commanded.

"It's my letter. I want to read it," Harry said more firmly than he normally would have.

"Let me see!" Dudley yelled.

"OUT!" Vernon yelled, grabbing Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and throwing them out the door. Brandon followed quickly, thankful that his Dad had only two hands.

Harry and Dudley quietly fought for the keyhole to listen, but Dudley quickly won. Brandon might have dragged Dudley away to let Harry listen alone, but Dudley would just yell that Harry was listening at the door to give him away, so he settled down next to Harry by the crack under the door to listen.

Petunia's voice was quivering, "How do they know where he sleeps? Could they be watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - could be following us." Vernon said wildly.

"But what should we do? We could write back and tell them we don't want -"

Vernon was silent for a while, and Brandon and Harry could see his black shoes pacing back and forth through the kitchen. Finally he replied. "No. It's best if we just ignore it. If they don't get an answer . . . Yes, that's probably best . . . We won't do anything . . ."

"But - " Petunia began.

"I'll not have one in the house, Petunia. When we took him in, we swore that we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense."

X X X

"Harry's going to be moving into your bedroom with you," Vernon told his younger son later that evening after he'd gotten home from work. "And before you ask, no, no one is going to move into the guest bedroom. We need that for when your Aunt Marge comes to visit."

"That's fine," Brandon replied without argument. If nothing else good comes from this letter, at least it finally got Harry out of that stupid cupboard.

His father eyed him suspiciously, obviously wondering why he wasn't complaining. "We'll bring up his cot for him to sleep on until we can purchase a second bed."

"Okay." Brandon would let Harry sleep with him in his bed until then, but he decided not to say so for now, in case his father might think it was abnormal.

After dinner, Harry and Brandon pulled the cot out of the cupboard and brought it upstairs, along with his few other belongings. They made it up like Harry was going to sleep on it and messed it up a little bit too, so that it would look like it had been slept on in the morning. Petunia never usually actually opened the door to wake Brandon, or Harry when he had lived in his cupboard, so they hoped that she would continue that trend the next day. Not that they thought that they would get into any real trouble if they got caught, after all, they hadn't been expressly told not to sleep in the same bed together, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

It didn't take long for the two of them to settle in together and turn the lights out. Harry cuddled up next to his younger cousin. "Thanks for this, Bran. You really didn't have to, you know. You're my favorite cousin."

"That's saying a lot," Brandon laughed. "You're my favorite cousin too."

"I'm your only cousin, silly," Harry laughed too.

"How could you forget!" Brandon replied dramaticly, but not any louder than necessary. "I'm going to tell poor Ripper that you forgot all about him, next time I see him."

Harry moaned, "I'm not likely to ever forget that nightmare."

"Aunt Marge was going to leave you up in that tree until midnight, but I convinced her to call Ripper off by nine o'clock."

"You never told me that," Harry replied. "See, you're the best cousin ever."

"I know," Brandon said, after which he received a light thwack upside the head.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Bran."