A/N warning - there is a little bit of physical violence in this chapter - it's not much, and it doesn't last long, but as it's a form of assault I thought that some people might prefer a warning.
Eventually, when it came to it, Lyra was the one to pick up Dudley.
Which was why when Vernon Dursley left the head office of Grunnings - the drill company that employed him, he found his wife's niece leaning against a bollard outside as if she belonged there.
Rather than meeting his son, who also worked for the company, inside in the main reception area, they tended to meet outside the building now it was summer. The building was often hot so standing in the courtyard where it was less busy meant that there was often more of a breeze.
Dudley worked in the finance department of the company, while his father was the director, so their working lives barely overlapped. However, as they shared transport to and from the office, they did have to wait for each other. Vernon was always impeccably on time, he always started at nine o'clock on the dot and finished at five. He never started a minute late, never left a minute early. Dudley always started as soon as he'd settled down - placed his lunch in the fridge, put his bag down and switched on the computer. He also often stayed a little late to ensure that everything was saved appropriately and that the work was completed.
So on this day, the thirtieth of July, Vernon left the building to see a figure from his past, resting against one of several bollards and facing the main doors that he had just used. His eyes fell upon her and it took him a few moments to recognise her, as when she had stayed with them in the summer holidays she had been dressed in old clothes bought cheaply from a charity shop. Even when her godfather had started purchasing her clothes, Lyra had, when she had been with them for the week or so they were forced to have her, dressed in simple, plain clothes that made it all the more easier for them to ignore her.
But here she was, his wife's sister's daughter. Sitting outside his office and dressed in knee length denim shorts and a bright blue top. The complete opposite of what he and his wife were used to. It was impossible to ignore her now, and Vernon turned purple as he approached.
It wasn't until she turned to look at him and the smile that she had on her face flickered that he realised that they weren't in his house or in any other private area and if he shouted and raved at her it would draw the attention of his colleagues who would want to know who she was. Vernon did not want to be associated with her.
When he opened his mouth, his voice was furious, but quiet. "What do you think you are doing here?" He spat, his eyes on his surroundings to see who could see him with her.
Her eyes locked with his, and they narrowed, before flicking past him to the doors and back again. "I'm meeting someone" she told him, still perched on the bollard, "do you mind?"
Vernon saw red, and gripped her arm which was resting on her lap tightly in an effort to draw her attention back to him. Instantly, Lyra's hand snapped to her pocket, where he presumed her stick was, but Vernon wasn't offered the chance to find out, instead being stopped by something else.
"Dad!" His son had suddenly appeared by his side and was glaring at him. While Vernon hadn't wanted to draw attention to his confrontation with Lyra, Dudley had no qualms and was standing before his father, straight backed and with a glare in his eyes that Vernon had never seen before. As their colleagues started to look over Dudley ripped his hand off Lyra's wrist and tried to step in between them, only being stopped by Lyra jumping off the bollard and putting a hand on his forearm.
Vernon focused on the action, turning to stare from the hand to his son, who stood before him with his niece facing him together. "What do you think you were doing?" Dudley shouted, "you can't do that to people!"
Vernon cast a nervous look around the area. "Are you done?" He hissed, "stop making a spectacle of yourself! Why are you defending the freak?" Lyra reared back but her tone when she spoke was calm and polite.
Ignoring her uncle, she turned to her cousin. "You ready?" She asked. Dudley gratefully nodded, and it wasn't until then that Vernon noticed his son had brought a suitcase to work with him.
"You're going with her?" He spluttered, before noticing that all his colleagues had left. He immediately felt relieved, and raised his voice. "Why are you taking him? I won't have you infecting my son with your lot!"
"I'm going because I was invited! I told you last night that I wouldn't be at home for the weekend!" Vernon immediately remembered his son telling them just that over dinner the previous night, but it had flown out of his memory at some point in the night and upon seeing the girl outside had allowed his rage to consume him.
"Besides, Vernon" Lyra added, "you have a very twisted view of biology if you think that magic can be spread the same way that colds can." With that, she smiled at Dudley and they both left the side of the road, heading down to an alleyway that Dudley had identified a week before and Lyra was using as her apparition point. Vernon stared after them, for once feeling confused and alone. He soon left, heading to his car so he wouldn't need to see her in his sons presence any longer.
Once they reached the alley, Dudley was quiet. He was gazing down at her wrist with shock in his eyes, and upon glancing down Lyra realised why. Her wrist was bruised from the grip Vernon had held on it, and it was very visible. Lyra swore.
"If Sirius or Uncle Remus see this they're going to be furious!" She exclaimed. Dudley looked nervous.
"I'm sorry Lyra" he said quietly, "is there anything you can do?" Lyra's eyes widened and she smiled gratefully, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a tiny jar, one that looked like it should hold lip balm. Dudley stared at it, before raising his eyebrows.
"Bruise balm" she replied to his unasked question, and he watched as she rubbed the balm onto her wrist. "Anyway" Dudley looked back at her, "you ready?" He nodded and she grinned at him, looking down the alley to check there were no others about before she pulled out her wand. "Put your suitcase down" she remarked, and once he had done so she said something quietly, twisting her wand as she did so, and his suitcase disappeared.
"It will be easier to apparate if we don't have to worry about that" she said, "anyway, hold my arm." Lyra held her arm out, the arm which used to hold the bruise his father had just inflicted her with, but the bruise had gone. He stared at her in shock but she just merely smiled and proffered her arm again. He took it, and felt a tightening in his chest as if he was being squeezed through a very small hole. When he opened his eyes again, he was in London, standing in an old looking square.
"Err..?" He asked, "where are we?" He gazed round the square curiously, taking in the tall thin houses. There was a small patch of grass in the middle of the square that they were standing on, but other than that there wasn't much life surrounding him. Lyra turned to him.
"We're at my house!" She answered, smiling. "But it's unplottable and hidden from Muggles - sorry - non magic people. And other than the fidelius charm the house has the tightest security you can think of - Sirius' family liked their privacy so most wizards can't find it and if they can they can't get in. Anyway, your suitcase should be inside. You coming?" Dudley nodded, before pausing.
"If Muggles can't see it, how am I going to get in?"
"Oh!" Lyra exclaimed, "sorry Dudley! You'll have to hold my hand." She held out her hand and he grasped it, immediately being led towards numbers 11 and 13. He could not see 12, even though he knew that was where she lived, but was being led up some steps that appeared to him as he climbed, until he reached a door that he knew he had not seen from the street.
Lyra opened the door, and they stepped inside. Dudley followed her into the house which contradicted the dark appearance of the houses from the street. Inside the house they entered into a large open plan room with sofas all facing a fireplace. But Lyra led him through the room, past the stairs, and down some more steps until Dudley was standing in a warm cozy kitchen.
"Sirius!" Lyra suddenly cried, and Dudley noticed a man sitting at the table who immediately smiled and got up from the table, drawing Lyra into a hug before greeting Dudley.
Soon, Dudley was sitting at the table with Lyra and her godfather discussing the weekend. Four years ago, Dudley had never assumed that he would be comfortable in his cousins world, but here he was. Dudley Dursley was sitting in a kitchen belonging to his magical cousins godfather, being served what Lyra called Butterbeer by Kreacher the house elf, holding an actual conversation. He felt he preferred this version of himself to the cowardly bully he used to be, and felt a twist in his gut as he remembered what he had been like and how glad he was that he was not that person any longer.