A/N:

This is written for reminiscent-afterthought's 'So you think you know your character?' competition. The competition consists of 11 questions about a character of the writers choice. I chose Mundungus Fletcher, and all 11 questions will be answered in the chapters of this fic. Though aspects of his personality are slightly different to fit into the AU of my story 'Harry Potter: Scourge of Knockturn Alley,' most of the base character is the same, so I would imagine that these short stories can be read with or without reading that first. So, without further ado, on to the challenge!

Question 5: What sort of relationship do you have with your family?

For those who are unaware, my AU is one in which Mundungus has ended up raising Harry. This chapter written through the eyes of someone else, looking in on Harry and Mundungus' relationship.

Mundungus had a mother. Biologically he also had a father, but neither he nor his mother, nor anyone else had the slightest idea who that might be. The story of his mother though, is not a happy one, so let us turn instead to the observations of Mrs Mary Kennedy a retired teacher with a stern exterior and a kind heart.

Mrs Kennedy was out for a walk one day, as was her habit. As usual her walk took her through the park and as usual she stopped for a time to enjoy the sun on a bench by the path. There were a certain number of regulars, retirees like herself or parents with young children who she would often meet and say hello to. Today though, there was a man she didn't know sat on 'her' bench. He was really rather unsavoury looking if she was honest. He wore pale jeans with a hole in the knee and several more besides, a grubby grey t-shirt that had probably once been white, and a baseball cap so old the rim was starting to detach on one side. He was closely watching a young lad who was struggling to mount a small rusty bike.

The youngster was an adorable boy of 7 or 8 years old. He was small and skinny with a messy shock of black hair. As Mrs Kennedy watched, he pushed off the ground determinedly, only to fall off in the other direction before he got his feet on the pedals. It looked painful, so Mrs Kennedy couldn't help but disapprove when the man beside her's reaction was to chuckle slightly under his breath.

After watching the young boy go through a few more attempts, getting gradually more upset, Mrs Kennedy was startled and slightly alarmed when the man next to her rose suddenly and started towards the boy.

He stooped to talk to the lad, and Mrs Kennedy realised with some relief that they must be in some way related.

"Righ' then Harry, will you let me help now? Please?"

The boy looked rebellious for a moment, but nodded, his eyes shining a little with tears he desperately tried to blink away.

The man fiddled with the bike a bit, and when he rose again the pedals were gone. He then motioned the boy to get back on the bike, and began pushing him carefully along the path, gradually building up speed and letting the boy get used to balancing.

Mrs Kennedy stayed on her bench a while longer than usual that day watching the odd pair together. Scruffy as his appearance may have been the man was clearly utterly devoted to the boy. She drifted off for a while, remembering when her husband had first taught their son to ride a bike in the cul-de-sac outside their house. Her son was fully grown now, with children of his own and another on the way... David was nearly 6 now, perhaps he was learning to ride too...

She was wakened from her happy reverie by the joyous shout of the youngster on his bike. Looking up she saw that the bike pedals had now been reattached, and the little boy was cycling along on his own - albeit very precariously with the man there ready to catch him at a moments notice.

After cycling a little way away, he put down his feet to stop the bike and tumbled unceremoniously off it. Leaving the bike dumped on the ground behind him he ran back to the man with the energy only a child of that age can. Hitting the man like a speeding bullet, he hugged him delightedly about the waist.

"Did you see that Dad! I did it I did it I did it!"

"That yer did." The man's voice was rough. "Yer a clever lad Harry. Took me ten times as long when I was your age." He seemed to be blinking a lot, and Mrs Kennedy could understand his emotion. His little boy was growing up.

"Love you Daddy." Said the little boy with a grin.

The man smiled, and suddenly he didn't look so scruffy anymore. He was just another proud dad.

"Love you too son, love you too."

A/N:

D'aaawe :)

I originally thought of writing a straight up description of Mundungus and Harry's relationship, but it felt a little forced so I decided instead to focus on something that would show their relationship to an outsider. I have fond memories of my Dad teaching me to ride in the same way Mundungus does it here, and our friendly next door neighbour coming to congratulate me with a Kit Kat (and 2 whole pounds, a big deal when you're 4 years old!) when I succeeded, so this story is loosely based on that.