THC October Challenges:

Theme: Running/facing one's fears.

Prompt: "That's mine."

Word Count: 1337

Beta: CupCakeyyy.

Dudley Dursley frowned as he examined the abomination that he had just created. Black on the outside, liquidy in the middle. How? What had he done wrong? How did his wife make it look so easy?

Dudley turned off the cooker and sat down, not only disappointed in himself, but in his upbringing. He had never cooked. Not once. His mother did the majority of the cooking and baking. And the only time she got a break was when Harry had made the food, usually breakfast. But at a young age, his cousin, the same age than him, had been more successful in cooking than he currently was - and he was in his mid-thirties. Thirty-four to be exact. And he still failed to fry bacon without burning it, make a cake that was even edible, or even heat up a premade meal - at least the latter was edible, though.

A sigh left him as he looked over at his two children, wondering how he could face telling them that he's failed again. He was good at his job, but things at home? He was absolutely awful. The way his two children communicated was brilliant - they talked, played, and were civil to each other at all times - nothing like he had been to Harry.

Currently, he observed them playing with a toy.

"I'm going to colour her in!" his son announced proudly, holding the baby doll.

"That's mine!"

His son smirked. "And?"

Dudley observed as his daughter's face grew red and she tried to grab her doll back. But, as there was a two-year difference between the two, it was proving difficult. Dudley stood up, ready to intervene - maybe there were some similarities between his childhood and his current life when his children decided to fight.

"Give it back!"

"Make me."

Dudley stepped forward as his son backed away tauntingly but froze when the doll flew into his daughter's arms. "You're a witch," he muttered, however, both of his children had heard. "You're a-" he stopped suddenly. No, his daughter wasn't a freak… but he didn't know anything else about it. Harry had been ridiculed for his powers his whole life and sent away. Would he have to send his daughter away? He didn't want to. He didn't want her to be a witch. He backed away and walked out into the garden - he just couldn't work out how to process this.

He had been brought up to hate it.

Magic scared him; he had been trapped in a snake's cage, given a pig's tail, had his life sucked away by air, and moved out of his house because they had been targets. Magic was dangerous. Or could be. But Harry wasn't a bad person, right? No, of course not.

Oh no.

Dudley's face drained of all colour completely as he realised - his parents wouldn't want anything to do with his daughter if they knew - would they hate her? Lock her up? Be rude to her? Disown her? What if they disowned him as well? For breeding magical offspring?

"Dad?"

Dudley looked up at both of his children. His eight-year-old daughter, Amelia, was almost in tears, and his ten-year-old son, Riley, looked slightly hesitant.

He had to find answers, but he refused to treat them any differently.

"I…" he took a breath. "The cake didn't go very well. Burnt and uncooked," he informed them slowly.

There was a long silence before Riley spoke; "Maybe we could help you."

Amelia nodded slowly. "We can read the instructions."

Dudley took another breath. "That's a good idea. I do need to send an email… well… text… well… letter first." He headed in. "Maybe you two could dispose of the failed cake while I'm gone."

Dudley walked in, hoping that his reaction hadn't imprinted on their minds too much, and wrote a letter to the only person he thought could help; Harry Potter himself. Hopefully, his cousin didn't hate him too much.

Hours later, almost nearing 4pm, a knock came at his door. Dudley stood up from watching the TV to answer it. He was shocked as he came face to face with Harry. He looked… different. "Harry."

"Dudley," his cousin started. "How are you?"

Many replies ran through his head before he settled on: "I don't know." He paused. "Come on in."

Harry nodded and entered the house before allowing Dudley to lead him into the living room.

"Dad, who's that?"

"My cousin. Do you two want to go play upstairs in your rooms for a little while? I just want to catch up with him for a bit."

His children obliged, throwing curious looks at the stranger in their house.

"They look like you."

"Oh, I hope not," Dudley immediately replied. "They look more like their mother. I don't know what I'm going to tell her - what if… what if she doesn't understand?"

Harry's expression was very calm and neutral, but supportive. "She'll understand eventually."

Right at that moment, the front door opened and Dudley's heart dropped. His wife was home early. Why would she choose this moment? Though logically, he knew it was a Saturday and she was only doing overtime as she had a big case coming up, so knew she could be due home at any time, he had half wished she would be home late.

This is not something he ever wanted to do. Being involved with magic was terrifying and now he was pulling his wife into this mess - he hoped she didn't hate him. If he had known, he'd have told her before they got married so she could have decided for herself.

In she walked, her ginger hair a little messy and a big folder in her arms. "Sorry that took so long," she muttered as she put her stuff down, checking her watch, and then glancing around. "Where are the kids?" as she finished that question, her eyes set on Harry.

"I can explain…" Dudley started, trying to find the words.

"How do you know Harry Potter?" his wife asked.

Dudley went speechless for a few seconds.

"Hello Susan, how have you been?"

"Wait… wait… you two know each other?" Dudley asked, his anger growing. What was going on?

His eyes scanned his wife and he just knew what she was going to say; she was a witch and didn't have the decency to tell him. With a deep breath, he turned and walked out of the house - he just couldn't handle this right now.

How could she have done this to him? How could she have lied and dragged him into this awful world? The one that almost destroyed his family. She claimed she loved him… but if she really did, then why would she force him into the dreadful Wizarding World without his permission. Or knowledge. Why would she force his daughter, his little girl, to leave to a world he'd never be a part of. Just like his aunt had left his mother - it was like history was repeating itself. Why would she make their daughter this way? And leave out their son?

Dudley turned around and caught the sight of his two children looking at him through the window. And in that second, he knew he wouldn't turn his back on her, on his family.

While every fibre in him told him to leave, to avoid the weirdness, the freakiness… he knew that none of that was true. All of his thoughts were out of fear, not facts. He genuinely didn't understand anything about the world his wife was once a part of - or maybe she was still a part of it. Susan was incredible, sweet, and understanding; if she kept this from him, maybe it was for a reason, but either way, he wasn't going to turn away from her, from his children, or from his family.

Sending a smile up to his children, he took a breath and walked back into the house. "Okay," he started with a sigh. "How can I help?"