Written for the Pride of Portree Quidditch Team as their Keeper

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

...

The thud of a glove connecting with flesh rang out through the small scale arena, barely a thousand people in attendance to watch as Dudley Dursely unsuccessfully attempted to lock the blow aimed at his ribs. The second and third strikes Dudley managed to drop his guard low enough to mitigate the damage before weaving underneath the haymaker that threatened to knock him out. Dudley raised his guard to block against the next strike but found it unnecessary as the bell rang, signaling an end to the third round.

In theory, there were still five rounds to go.

Dudley knew that he wouldn't survive five more rounds, let alone try to score a victory though judge's decision. This was his first time fighting on such a stage and the first time his fight was being broadcast on a broad stage. Until now he had made his way to the few victories he had done so via points by holding on to the slight advantage he had made early on.

As his brow was wiped down by his coach, Dudley didn't even pretend that he hadn't fluked himself into this position. He was in the opening match of the card because of his record, nothing great but nothing bad. Hence, against the caliber of opponent he was fighting who had four straight wins to his name, he was expected to be fodder and lose to progress someone else. That didn't mean that he had to simply submit to the force he was facing. If he was going out, he was going out on his own terms.

The ding of the bell signaled the start of the fourth round, Dudley raising his guard to meet his challenger in the middle of the ring. Two swift jabs tested Dudley's defense, causing him to extend out with his left to try and create some kind of pressure. In what seemed like a surprising twist of fate, almost like magic, Dudley's punch managed to breeze past his opponent's guard and connect with his face. It wasn't a damaging blow but it was the start of something as Dudley tried to utilize this opening to his advantage.

He managed to push his competition into the corner, raining down heavy blows in an attempt to swing the battle in his favor. While a couple hits managed to slip through the guard, they weren't enough to swing the fight. Still, this was the opening that he needed, now he just needed to capitalize.

...

Dudley sat in his changeroom, an ice pack pressed against his brow from where the knockout blow had come from. He had almost managed to make it to the eighth and final round and while he had put on a valiant show, it just wasn't meant to be. At least Dudley was pretty sure that he had managed to make more than just a simple impression on future bouts along with the crowd in attendance. He hadn't had anybody particularly cheering for him in the beginning but when he had almost gotten the upper hand, he had swayed the crowd in his favor.

He wished that he had heard the cheers of his parents but he had known well in advance that they wouldn't come. His mother had come to Dudley's first fight but refused to come to another, Petunia making it obvious she never wished to see harm come upon her 'Precious Duddekins.' He was incredibly glad that none of his friends or coaching staff had heard those words. Because Petunia wouldn't make it, neither would Vernon. Knowing his father like he did, Dudley knew that Petunia wouldn't so much as let him leave the house so that he would be forced to keep her company through such trying times.

As for his friends, while they had been there for his first couple of fights, like with most people they had gone their separate ways. They still kept in contact every once in a while and purely because of distance, he couldn't expect them to travel for his fights. At least not at this level. Maybe if he was fighting for a championship it would be a bit different. For now though, all he could do was try to make as many fans as he could.

"Rough day Dudley?"

Dudley found himself somewhat startled by the sound of a somewhat familiar voice. While he didn't recognize the person by their voice right away, the scar on the forehead was a dead giveaway as to who it was.

"Harry," said Dudley in disbelief, wanting to rub at his eyes to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. Given how many hits he had taken though, the last thing he wanted to do was to rub at his wounds.

"You put up a pretty good fight Dudley, you should be proud of how you performed," said Harry.

"Cheers," said Dudley, still a bit dumbfounded that his cousin was actively here. "So...what are you doing?"

"Well, is it wrong to invite my cousin for a pint after his most recent fight?"

Still somewhat bewildered, Dudley could only nod his head knowing that a pint would definitely do right about now.

...

Dudley watched from the booth he had settled in as Harry stood at the bar and ordered them a round. The young man was still having trouble believing that his cousin was standing before him. The last he had seen of him had been a few years back when he and his parents had left Privet Drive for the last time. He could still see the image of Harry standing there with purpose, watching as they fled from a danger they were powerless against.

If Harry was here, then that meant that that danger was gone. Surely?

"Here you go Dudley," said Harry as he put down Dudley's drink.

"Thanks," said Dudley as Harry took his seat before the two of them raised their respective glasses and lightly clinked them against one another before taking a sip. "So...I mean...how have you been?"

Dudley knew it was a weak start to a conversation between two people who hadn't seen each other in a few years but words were still not his greatest ally right now. "It's been challenging," said Harry. "We're actively trying to get things back in order after we won. There's still a few remnants of his will that we're chasing down but all in all things are looking good."

"That's good," said Dudley, still struggling to use a majority of his vocabulary. "So it's all over then?"

"For the most part but like with everything, there will always be those who resist change," said Harry with a shrug. "Give it a few years and things will settle down."

"I see," said Dudley as he had a bit more from his glass. "It's good to see that you made it through Harry."

"Thanks Dudley," said Harry in a tone which was a little less settled than previous. Dudley remained silent but could read what hadn't been said. In any sort of battle there was always going to be a winner and a loser, but that didn't necessarily mean that the victor walked away without injury. Given the scale of the enemy that Harry had been facing, Dudley could only imagine the losses that were suffered along the way. "So what made you take up boxing Dudley?"

Dudley was somewhat surprised by the change in topic but was somewhat glad for it. At least it was a topic which he could actively contribute a little more to.

...

It was a couple hours later when the two young men stepped out of the pub they had been drinking at, both of them a little worse for ware. "Do you want me to take you home Dudley?" offered Harry. "Tell me where you live and you'll be there in a second."

"I think I'd rather take a cab, at least I know that mode of transport as opposed to whatever way you're talking about," countered Dudley. "Don't want you whooshing me off down some alleyway."

"Fair, fair," said Harry, giving Dudley a hearty pat on the back before reaching into his pocket. "At least let me pay for your cab."

"Harry, you bought every round tonight, I can at least pay for my own cab home," said Dudley, trying to brush Harry's offer aside.

"Dudley, the joy of having saved the world is you somehow end up with way more money than you know what to do with," said Harry as he offered Dudley a thick wad of hundred pound notes.

"Harry, no!" said Dudley sternly. "That's way too much!"

"Dudley, please," said Harry somberly. "I nearly got you killed five years ago and thats haunted me for years. You had to move because of me and I'm sure Uncle Vernon would have fled the country if he thought it would be a safer option. Please Dudley."

Dudley swallowed a nervous lump that had formed in his throat before taking the offered money. He recalled the event that Harry was talking about and how it had effectively terrified him for months after. It was in that moment that he understood just what kind of dangers his cousin had been fighting against. It was why when he and his family had left Privet Drive he had wanted Harry to leave with them.

It was still comforting to know that he had successfully gotten through all of that.

"On that cheery note," said Harry as he flashed Dudley a smile before offering his hand out, "I need to be off."

"Yeah, of course," said Dudley as he shook Harry's hand. "Take care of yourself Harry."

"You too Dudley," said Harry before he walked past his cousin. Once he was just out of his line of sight, Harry said one final thing. "Good bye."

By the time Dudley registered those words and turned around, Harry was gone and given the tone of his voice, Dudley doubted whether he would ever see his cousin again. No, Dudley realized that he had actively seen Harry for what would likely have been the last time. The two of them had different paths to walk and different worlds to explore. Still, it was good knowing that Harry was still doing well after all this time. For the longest of time he hadn't even known if his cousin was alive so just knowing that, that was good enough for him.

Now he just had to figure out whether he told his parents that Harry was doing well because he knew his father well enough to know that that conversation would go one of two ways, neither of them good. Given the entertainment it would provide, Dudley was still tempted to tell him.

...

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