A/N: Hi all, I've joined the International Wizarding School Championship writing competition, and this story is my fourth entry. To readers of my Harry/Draco series, those stories will continue to be listed in my profile to prevent confusion.

Please note that this story assumes that Dudley's transformation hinted at in the beginning of HP and the Deathly Hallows progresses in the ensuing year.

Submission information:

Story Title/Link: Stepping Stones

School and Theme: Beauxbatons, Hagrid's Hut (Look at those living at the border of society and how they attempt to reconnect.)

Main Prompt: [Genre] Hurt/Comfort

Additional Prompts: [Action] Skipping Rocks, [Quote] "The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing." - Walt Disney

Year: 6

Wordcount: 3078

Stepping Stones

Harry stood in the middle of the street and braced himself for what was to come. It was funny, in that odd way, not that funny ha-ha way—though he realised it might actually be funny ha-ha as well—that here he was, Harry Potter, The Man Who Vanquished, feeling sick at the idea of approaching a couple of Muggles he'd known his entire life. Flashes of the recent war streaked through his mind, but he pushed them away. They'd been overwhelming him too much of late, and he didn't have time at the moment to examine them as he usually did.

He looked at the plain, nondescript house in the upper-middle-class neighbourhood in Kent where his relatives had gone into hiding during the war and took a deep breath. He felt so far removed from them at this point that it was almost as though he were approaching strangers. If he had his way, this would be the last time he'd ever have to see Petunia and Vernon Dursley. He just needed to tell them they could go home now, that the war was over, and to let them know he'd taken all his things out of the house on Privet Drive and they'd never have to deal with him again. He was sure it'd be a relief for all involved.

He wondered if he'd see his cousin, but he was unsure what to think about Dudley as the last time they'd parted, Dudley had seemed to be changing. Shaking his head and pushing away his feelings of apprehension, Harry decided to take the wait-and-see approach in regards to his cousin and proceeded up the path to knock at the front door.

"Just a minute," came an unknown voice from inside the house. Harry waited, taking deep breaths and urging his stomach to calm. He was an adult who could use magic, and they could do nothing to him now.

The door slowly opened to show a young woman Harry didn't recognize. "Can I help you?"

Harry looked around behind her, trying to confirm that he was in the right place. "Uh, I was looking for the Dursleys. Am I in the right place?" She looked confused, and he remembered belatedly that he'd been told they were using a different name in hiding. "Sorry, I meant the Smiths."

The girl gave him a sweet smile, showing off nearly perfect teeth. She looked to be a year or two older than he was, but with her long brown hair pulled up into a tail at the crown of her head and a smattering of freckles across her nose, she seemed so much more innocent than he felt. A pang of jealousy ran through him at the life she'd likely led.

"Yes, of course. Just a minute." She closed the door and disappeared for a moment, returning seconds later with Harry's cousin.

Harry tried not to gape at the transformation Dudley had undergone over the past year. He'd continued to slim down slightly and build muscle, and though he still looked large, he no longer looked unhealthy. He'd let his hair grow out somewhat, and it suited his face much better than the severe cut his mother had always forced upon him.

The biggest change, however, was the expression upon his face. Joy. He looked genuinely pleased to see Harry, who almost didn't know what to do with that information. Before he could decide, Dudley had pushed through the door and thrown his arms around his cousin. The unexpected embrace left Harry stunned, unable to speak.

Dudley pulled back, and Harry just continued to stare. "Harry! God, it's good to see you. I've been so worried." He looked over his shoulder at the girl. "Patty, this is my cousin, Harry."

The girl, Patty, flashed a look of surprise before covering it with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Harry."

Dudley grinned, his hand still on Harry's shoulder. "Mum and Dad are out for dinner for the evening. They said we were going home soon." He lowered his voice so Patty couldn't hear them. "Is it over?"

Harry could only nod, but Dudley took a deep breath and appeared to relax.

"And you're here, which means you're okay, right?" Dudley looked truly concerned.

Again, Harry nodded, dumbfounded, and Dudley looked at Harry and cocked his head, seeming to realise that Harry had yet to speak. Harry wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words. He had no idea what to say. This was not how he had seen this going, and now he was lost. He felt like he was walking blind, trying to find something that felt familiar to orient him.

Dudley looked like he was trying to get the courage to say something. Finally, he got it out. "Can we talk? There's a little park down the street, and we won't have to worry about my parents coming home." He hesitated at Harry's silence. "I know I have no right to ask that, but—"

"No," Harry finally got out, then realised how that sounded. "No, it's okay. We can talk, I guess." He hesitated. "But if this is a trick, I'm not going to take it well."

Dudley nodded sadly. "I get it. No tricks, I promise. Hold on, let me get my jacket." He turned back into the house and murmured something to the girl, then returned with a jacket, closing the door behind him. "Patty's a friend. She's been taking care of the house for us," Dudley explained as they walked back down the path to the pavement and turned toward the park visible at the end of the lane. "She doesn't know everything about our past, but she listens."

They walked on in silence for several minutes, and Harry was still feeling disoriented, so he just remained quiet.

"We've talked about you," Dudley finally got out as they entered the park, and he led them away from the crowded playpark toward a large pond surrounded by trees and benches spread periodically around it. Harry stopped and looked at the man next to him.

"Me? What do you mean, you've talked about me?" Harry realised he sounded accusatory but couldn't help it. He couldn't think of any way that they could have talked about him that would have been okay. Did they talk about magic? Or did they perhaps talk about how Harry was the cause for all their problems? A felt a scowl slip over his face.

Dudley sighed. "Come on, let's go over there under the tree. I like to come here and think sometimes." He led Harry to the edge of the pond then reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of flat little rocks. "I pick these up as I find them and then bring them here to skim when I need to be alone." He handed one to Harry. "Have you ever skimmed stones?"

Harry stared at the rock in Dudley's outstretched palm then, looking up at his cousin, he took it, watching for any tricks. The stone was cold in his hand, but it was just a stone. Harry examined it as he thought about Dudley's question then decided he was going to do his best to try to have an honest conversation. He wasn't going to be sarcastic, and he was going to try to listen. And that began here.

"Not until I got to Hogwarts. I used to go sit by the lake outside the school, and my friend, Hagrid—you know, the giant who came to the island—anyway, Hagrid would sit with me, and he taught me. I've never seen you do this, though. When did you learn?"

Dudley looked down with an unreadable expression. "Dad taught me that time he took me camping when I was eight."

Harry nodded and skipped the first stone out into the pond, watching it bounce several times before it sank. "I don't remember that," he murmured. "I don't remember him taking you camping."

Dudley cleared his throat, staring out resolutely over the lake. "Listen, Harry, this is going to be really hard for me, but I have to get this out. I'm going to apologize now if I upset you, and if you need me to stop, I understand. I know it's probably going to be even harder for you to hear, and I'm sorry." Dudley flung his stone, and they both watched as it slid across the top of the pond for nearly twenty feet.

Harry still felt lost, as though he had been transported to some alternate reality that showcased aspects of his life he recognized, but that was so far removed from his actual experiences that he had no idea what to expect next. He breathed deeply and turned to look his cousin in the eye. "Okay. Go on."

Dudley picked up another stone and turned it around in his hand, studying it. He looked uncomfortable, as if he was forcing himself to push forward against his will. "What they did to you—no, what we did to you—was wrong." He paused, took a breath, and continued quickly, perhaps thinking the momentum would help him. "You should have been raised as my brother. I've thought about it from every possible angle over this last year, and there is absolutely no excuse I can find for what we did to you all those years, how we treated you. You were just a little kid, and we kept you on the outside of our family, always looking in. We treated you worse than we would a dog, and it makes me sick to remember."

It made Harry sick, too, and he usually tried not to think about it. Being confronted with this now, being forced to listen to someone who'd been there, who had seen what he'd lived through, felt like a kick to the gut. He worked on keeping his breathing even, hoping to stop the burning he felt behind his eyes and the hot flash of panic itching beneath his scalp and squeezing his chest.

Dudley continued, "I can't talk to Mum and Dad about this, as they're still insistent on not changing a damned thing." Dudley's voice rose, and an edge crept into it. He flung the stone in his hand, not even trying to make it skip, just throwing it with all his strength. "But I'm not going to be like them. I decided that this year. I've seen how the anger and the hate can eat at you and turn you into a monster. And I've been a monster, I know this." His voice hitched. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what it was like to be you all those years, to watch us go on trips and holidays, always leaving you behind, and for me to get everything I asked for while you got nothing. And oh, God, Harry, when I think about the food—"

"Stop. I can't. Just—just give me a moment, please." Harry could feel his breathing quickening, his breaths starting to come in shorter, tighter gasps. Images passed through his mind in a frenzy: sitting in his cupboard on Christmas while listening to Dudley unwrapping gifts; missing meals with roiling hunger in the pit of his stomach; cat flaps in rundown rooms. He felt as though he was sinking in memories, like one of the stones he'd just thrown into the pond, and he thought he might actually be having a panic attack. He'd read about them, and this was what they had sounded like. He put his hands on his knees and breathed in and out, in and out, until the pond started to come back into focus. He heard the birds chirping and concentrated on the sound of their calls. The entire time, Dudley stood in silence.

Finally, he thought he might have himself back under control. "Why?" he asked his cousin, hating the sound of weakness in his voice. "Why are you doing this? Why now? What do you hope to accomplish?" He tried to keep his voice from sounding accusatory but heard the undertone anyway.

Dudley nodded, as though he had expected the question. "I read this quote recently—I've been doing a lot of reading lately, making up for lost time, I guess—and it made me question a few things. It said, 'The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.' I realised that if I wanted to change things between us, I needed to take the first step. This isn't about apologizing so I feel better—though yeah, that's part of it. But I want to have a cousin, Harry. To hell with Mum and Dad's opinions. I want to be your cousin. I want to act like your cousin. I want to see you live a good life, and to be at your wedding, and to have our kids play together. I want more. And this is the first step. I need you to know that I regret waiting this long to change, but that I mean to begin doing it."

Harry took another stone from the bag and ran his fingers over the cool surface, letting it ground him. He considered Dudley's words—probably the most he'd ever heard him say that didn't include hurled insults—and pushed himself past the memories of his solitary childhood to the present.

Could he forgive his cousin? He'd always desired exactly what was being offered. He had a family now with the Weasleys, Hermione, even baby Teddy and Andromeda. But could one ever have too much family? And wouldn't it be good to have someone who understood where he had come from? He'd never completely be able to talk about everything he'd experienced as a young child, but with Dudley, he didn't need to. To have someone with that shared experience be part of his life and be there to support him, even peripherally? Could he say no to that?

He replayed the quote Dudley had mentioned in his mind. 'The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.' He could talk about forgiveness and peace in the wizarding world until he was blue in the face. If he couldn't live by those principles in his own life, what kind of hypocrite did that make him?

He threw the stone across the pond and felt as though part of his pain had gone with it, slowly sinking into the water. He grabbed another, mentally loading it with the memories and anger, and again threw it, this time making it bounce a full ten times before it sank. He let out a deep breath, feeling lighter than he'd felt in ages.

"You know, Dud?" Dudley turned in surprise at the nickname. "I don't know what's come over you in the last year or so, but if this is the new you..." Harry hesitated, then decided to stay his course and continued. "I think I'd be more than happy to be your cousin and friend." He looked at his cousin and gave him a slight smile. "I don't know that I can just forget everything that happened, but I think I can forgive you, at least. You were a kid, too. You weren't taught any differently, and now that you're grown and can see with your own eyes, you're turning out to be alright, I think."

Dudley chuckled at that. "Thanks for the glowing endorsement, mate."

Harry laughed, too, and marvelled at the lightness of the sound. "Anytime."

They settled in and skimmed stones for several more moments in now comfortable silence, each lost in their thoughts. Harry replayed the entire visit, trying to make sense of it all, then remembered something he'd wondered about. "So, Dud. Patty, huh? Just friends?"

Dudley smiled, showing more than a hint of the troublesome child Harry remembered. "Well, maybe just a little more than friends. She's really helped me work through some of my confusion this past year. Mostly, she's just listened and told me off when I was being stupid, making me take responsibility for my actions. I've been looking at a lot of the parts of how I was raised and comparing them to how I want to be as an adult. I've needed someone to help me work that out, and she's been a really great listener. She's heading to uni in the fall, though, so I don't expect we'll keep in touch after the move."

Harry nodded with a faint smile. "Well, I came in the first place to tell you that you could return home, but it sounds like you've already got word. I've had Privet Drive cleaned and prepared, and it's ready when you all get there. I'd planned to talk to your parents and give them a 'good-bye forever' speech, but now… well, if we're going to keep in touch, perhaps I'd best just leave it as it is. Would you mind passing on the message about the house?"

"Sure. Are you just going to leave from here?"

Harry looked around and saw that there was no one around that could see their current location. "I think so. I'll just Apparate from behind that tree there, to be safe."

"How do I get ahold of you? Do you have a phone?"

"No, but I've been considering getting one. I'll give you Hermione's number for now, and if you call her, just let her know when I can call you back that I won't be getting your parents."

"Oh no, I have a mobile now. Here's my number." He pulled a pen out of his jacket and scratched out his number onto a slip of paper. "No one answers but me."

Harry smiled. "Perfect." He shoved it in his pocket. "Well, guess I'll see you later."

Dudley stood, and they walked over to the tree, both looking at each other awkwardly. Dudley smiled. "Quit talking and begin doing," he muttered, then threw his arms around Harry in a hug. "Take care, Harry. Don't be a stranger."

Harry tentatively patted Dudley on the back then pulled away. "I'll try not to be." Harry looked around, finally feeling as though he had some direction. "Begin doing," he said, then gave a decisive nod and Apparated back to Grimmauld Place. He looked up at the house and sighed.

It was time to stop living in the memories and start doing, and damned if he didn't have a long list he needed to start on.