Word Count: 3064

Warnings: Referenced Canonical Child Neglect

Family Reunion

"Are you ready?" Harry asked, a small smile on his lips getting bigger as Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"Yes, I'm ready," she huffed playfully, shaking her head at him. "But really, Harry, you can't rush a woman when she's getting ready. It takes effort to look this good!"

"You're always the most beautiful person in the room to me," Harry told her, earning himself a kiss to the cheek.

He wasn't lying. For Harry, Ginny looked just as beautiful in her sweats as she did in a ballgown. Tonight, she was wearing a short black dress, and she'd done something to her hair to make it curly and bouncy.

Harry always wondered about the magic witches—and some wizards—must learn for such sorcery, but the few times he'd asked GInny about it, she'd just laughed and winked at him without actually answering the question.

Harry was lucky if he could make his hair behave enough that it didn't look like a bird's nest.

He took her hand in his own, and they left the house together, walking down the path to the edge of the wards. Even though they could have created an allowance for the two of them to Apparate through their own wards, they'd decided against it. Creating gaps was always a risk, and Harry didn't want to risk her safety.

Especially not for the sake of convenience.

They'd decided to go into Muggle London for the night. It could get tiring going out in the Wizarding World, where Harry still had people wanting to be near him, and Ginny was growing her own following, playing for the Harpies.

Besides, Harry had gifted Ginny a box in her favourite theatre in the West End, and they didn't get the opportunity to use it that often, so it seemed like an easy choice.

They Apparated together, appearing in an alleyway a few blocks from their destination, and walked, hand in hand, at a leisurely pace.

Harry loved being in Muggle London with Ginny. She often pointed out things that he wouldn't have even noticed, and she always seemed fascinated with the most mundane things. Harry supposed that was the effect of growing up with Arthur Weasley as a father.

Almost as soon as they entered the building—showing their pass to get them in through the quick line—Ginny dragged Harry over to the bar.

Muggle cocktails were much more fun than their Wizarding counterparts, according to Ginny, and Harry was always down for anything that made his girl happy. As she ordered for them—a beer for Harry, the fruity drinks gave him headache—Harry gazed over the crowd.

It was a habit whenever they were anywhere crowded, one that he'd never been able to shake. He could handle crowds better now than when they were immediately post war, but he expected he'd always be a little bit wary in busy public spaces.

He was about to turn back to Ginny, when his heart almost stopped in his chest. Across the room, glaring daggers in his direction, stood his Aunt Petunia, and his Uncle Vernon.

Turning away from them, he leant against the bar. "We should go and get seated once we have the drinks," he said. "It's busy in here tonight."

Something in his tone must have caught her attention, because she glanced up at him with a slightly worried expression. "Harry, we have a private box and forty five minutes before the curtains open. We have plenty of time. Are you okay?"

He nodded silently, his jaw clenched. Ginny had never met his aunt and uncle, and he was very much hoping to keep it that way.

Their drinks arrived, and Harry paid for them, keeping his back to his family. He could practically feel their eyes creating daggers in his back.

"Harry, really, are you okay?"

He shook his head, unable to lie to her, but unwilling to tell her what was actually wrong. He didn't want to still be affected by his aunt and uncle like this. He should be stronger.

"Harry?" she pleaded. She put her hand over his, and looked around the room, checking for some indication for his sudden mood change.

"My aunt and uncle are here," he mumbled, half hoping that she wouldn't hear him.

"Where?" she demanded, her eyes suddenly turning cold. She'd been spitting feathers when Harry had told her about parts of his childhood, and he really didn't want her to storm over to them, pitching a fit about something that had happened years ago. Something he should be well and truly over.

"Gin, leave it please," he whispered, pulling her closer to him, so he could wrap his arms around her.

"You don't want to introduce me to your family?" she asked, biting her lip as she peered up at him from beneath her lashes.

He frowned. "Not really," he admitted. "They're not the kind of people I want you near at all to be honest."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "You don't think I can handle myself?"

He stared at her for a moment before he noticed the playful look in her eyes. Shaking his head, he said, "Ginny. Are you trying to give my brain a heart attack?"

"Run that by me one more time," she replied, giggling.

He laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. She leant up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then smiled at him.

"Ignore them, Harry. Don't let them ruin our night. If they decide to talk to us, then so be it. You don't owe them anything, and they're certainly not worth ruining our night for."

He nodded, feeling a little better. He glanced over at them once more to see that Dudley, and a girl Harry didn't recognise had joined them. He saw his aunt gesture at him and Ginny and quickly looked away.

Ginny was right, he shouldn't let them ruin his night.

…

Petunia had never felt so good as she did walking into the theatre, holding onto Vernon's arm. She had been looking forward to this night for weeks, if only for the bragging rights it would afford her when she next met up with her friends for coffee.

Vernon was looking very dapper in his suit, and she had spent most of the day preparing herself for the evening. Her dress alone had cost almost twice as much money as any other item of clothing in her wardrobe.

Dudley and his lovely girlfriend, Camille, would be meeting them, and they had rather good seats to enjoy the show. Of course, she would have given almost anything to have been the ones in the private boxes, but Vernon's salary, while enough to keep them comfortable, would never stretch to such an extravagance.

She looked around the atrium, trying to pinpoint those who would be in the boxes. People wore that kind of privilege, after all, she was sure that she'd be able to spot them.

Diamonds dripped from the young women in their post cocktail dresses, and many of them were hanging off the arms of men much older than themselves, wearing expensive looking suits, and real Rolex watches.

Vernon rejoined her, and she sipped at her drink as she watched the doors for Dudley's arrival. Her attention was diverted when she saw a young couple walk through the doors.

The man had messy black hair, and the most easily recognisable green eyes she'd ever seen. Her nephew. She hadn't seen him since he'd brought them home after their 'war' was over.

With him, a beautiful redhead holding his hand, laughing. Whatever he had just said had obviously just amused her. The girl was beautiful, Petunia could admit, in her own head.

She watched as they walked to the bar with disdain. Why would someone like Harry be here? Surely his kind had their own entertainment to enjoy, instead of forcing their presence on normal folk.

Vernon must have followed her gaze, because when she looked at him to tell him who was there, he was already glaring in the direction of the couple.

"How dare people like him come here?!" He demanded, though she was grateful that he kept his voice down. It wouldn't do to make a scene in such a lovely place.

"I don't know," she replied, patting his arm. "Ignore them, Vernon. They're certainly not worth our time."

Vernon nodded, though she could tell he was reluctant to let it go. Luckily, it wasn't long before Dudley and Camille arrived, and Vernon was refocused on greeting his son and—hopefully—soon to be daughter-in-law.

…

"Come on, love, let's go and sit down," Ginny said, picking up her second drink and sliding off the stool she'd been seated on.

Harry nodded, picking up his own drink, and holding out his arm to guide her up the stairs. It was their bad luck that they found themselves queueing right in front of the Dursleys.

"Heya, Harry," Dudley greeted, when he saw Harry.

Harry turned to find his relations—and the woman with Dudley—all looking at him. Choosing to ignore his aunt and uncle, he took the offered hand of Dudley and shook it.

Allowing a small smile, he nodded his head and replied, "Hey, Dudley."

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Dudley asked, nodding his head to Ginny, who was watching on curiously.

Harry looked at her and bit back a sigh. "Ginny, this is my cousin, Dudley. Dudley, this is my fiance, Ginny."

Ginny offered a tight smile to Dudley, though she didn't offer to shake his hand and something in her expression seemed to convince Dudley not to offer.

"This is Camille," Dudley said, gesturing to the woman on his arm. "We've been dating for a little over a year. Camille, this is Harry, my little cousin."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Harry said, a genuine smile on his face this time.

Despite the years they'd shared thoroughly hating each other, Harry was glad that Dudley was settling down and seemingly had his life on track.

"And you," Camille replied, a small smile gracing her face. "Dudley told me a little about you, but he said it was unlikely that I'd ever get to meet you."

The queue moved up, and Ginny tugged on Harry's arm, pulling him along with it. Despite the friendliness of his cousin, Harry was very willing to go. He really wanted to get away from his aunt and uncle; it was a very good thing that looks couldn't actually kill.

"Where are you guys sitting?" Dudley asked, when the queue stopped again.

Before Harry could answer, Ginny said, "Oh, we have a box." She had a small smile on her face, and when Harry looked at her, he almost laughed at the mischief in her eyes.

This wasn't going to end well, he could already see it, but when he saw the disbelief in Petunia and Vernon's faces, he couldn't deny that he gained a small amount of vindictive pleasure.

"You have a box?" Petunia blurted out. "Just for the two of you?"

"Well, tonight it's just going to be the two of us, but we often bring friends and family with us," Ginny replied sweetly.

"Family, you say," Vernon barked, his tone gruff. "You won't mind if we join you then, will you, boy?"

Harry frowned. "Actually, Vernon—"

Ginny cut him off, squeezing his hand. "We'd be happy for you to join us, Dudley. And you, Camille."

"That's settled then," Vernon asserted, a smug smile on his face.

Harry raised his eyebrow. Petunia looked unsure, Dudley was frowning, and Camille didn't seem to know what to do or say for the best.

The Dursleys and Camille followed the two of them up to their box, where there was a waiter already waiting for them.

"Ah, Harry, Ginny, it's very nice to see you again," He greeted. "You have new friends with you this time?"

"Hello, Stuart," Harry replied, shaking his hand. "I hope you're well?"

"Hello, Stuart," Ginny said, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek. "This is Dudley, and Camille; Harry's cousin and his partner."

She and Harry had grown fond of Stuart in the time they'd had the box, and he always made sure to be servicing their box when they alerted the theatre that they were coming.

"I see. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you," Stuart said, with a smile. He moved so that the four of them could enter the box, stepping back into place deftly, before Petunia and Vernon could follow.

"Can I help you, Sir, Madam?" He asked politely.

"We're with them," Petunia squeaked, before Vernon could get angry.

Stuart raised his eyebrow.

"Mr Potter?" he called, causing both Harry and Ginny to turn around.

"Yes?"

"There are two more people here, requesting entrance. They tell me that they're with you?"

"Oh, mum and dad," Dudley said, with a small, definitely nervous, chuckle.

Harry raised his eyebrow at Ginny. "Well?" he asked.

"Allow them in, Stuart," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. She waited until they were in earshot, before she added, "you know, because they're such loving relatives to their only nephew."

Vernon looked slightly ruffled as he took a seat beside Dudley, and Petunia had the decency to blush and look at the carpet as she sat down.

Ginny and Harry took their usual seats in the middle of the box, and Harry pulled her close, his arm around her, tucking her against his chest. Merlin but he loved this woman.

…

Petunia walked down the steps, not paying attention to the conversations going around her. Deep in thought, she relied on Vernon to lead her and make sure that she didn't fall over.

Getting her wish of sitting in a box hadn't been as thrilling as she'd expected. She knew she would have to research the play before she next saw her friends, because she hadn't been able to concentrate on the stage at all.

The young couple—her nephew and his fiance—had taken up centre stage in her mind instead.

They seemed like a regular young couple, not unlike her Dudley and his Camille, and if Petunia didn't know what they were, she knew she could probably enjoy their company.

They had seemed to have fun during the break, engaging Dudley and Camille in conversation that had the four of them laughing and joking like they were old friends.

For a heart stopping moment before the show, she'd been almost certain that the redhead was going to tell the waiter that they weren't allowed inside the box. She couldn't imagine how horrible it would have been to do a walk of shame back down the stairs, to their regular seats.

She wondered, vaguely, what she and Vernon would have done had their positions been reversed, but realistically, she knew that they wouldn't have allowed Harry anywhere near a box of theirs.

Vernon, she knew, would have taken great pleasure in telling them where to get off.

Tuning back into the conversation as they reached the atrium, she heard Dudley asking if Harry and Ginny had any plans for the rest of their evening.

"I think we're going to have a walk over to Covent Garden. There's an Italian place called Orso that does incredible pasta dishes," Harry replied. "It's Ginny's favourite restaurant."

"Would you mind if… I mean…" Dudley cut himself off, blushing as he looked away.

"Would you like to join us, Dudley?" Ginny asked, her tone kind.

"We'd love too," Camille replied, answering for the both of them.

She already had her arm linked with Ginny. Apparently, during her musings, Petunia had missed the two girls firmly hitting it off.

"Dudley, I thought that you were coming home to eat with us?" Vernon said, tone belligerent.

"Nah, I'm enjoying catching up with Harry," Dudley replied, smiling. "I'll come over to yours next weekend instead."

"Well, why don't we come with you now, and then we can go home together," Vernon said, even as Petunia squeezed his arm.

She didn't think it would go well if Vernon kept pushing, and the way that Camille's eyes narrowed slightly, she couldn't be sure which side her son's girlfriend would be on.

"Because you're not invited," Ginny said, before anyone else could answer. "I don't really understand why you believe that Harry or I would want your company, to be perfectly honest."

"Now you listen here, girl—"

Harry cut him off. "Don't you dare speak to my fiance like that. You've got absolutely no right." He shook his head and then turned to look at Dudley. "Dudley, Camille, you're more than welcome to join us for dinner." With a final glance their way, Harry nodded to her. "Have a good evening, Aunt Petunia."

He turned around for the door, and Ginny fell into step beside him. Petunia saw her squeeze his hand. Dudley looked at Petunia and Vernon for a moment, before he looked at Camille. They had a silent conversation, and then Dudley shrugged.

"Night mum. Night dad."

When Dudley and Camille followed Harry and Ginny towards the exit, Vernon huffed. Petunia could see the redness creeping up his neck, betraying his anger.

"Little upstart, thinks he can speak to me like that?" He growled. "Come on, Pet, I want a word with my nephew."

"Leave it, Vernon. He's… they're right. We treated him terribly when he lived with us, why on earth would he want to dine with us now?"

"But Petunia…"

"No. Come, let's go home. I'll make us something nice to eat, and you can watch the football that you recorded."

Vernon stared at her for a moment, before he softened. "Okay, dear, if that's what you want. You're right. I don't want to eat with him anyway."

Petunia smiled as he took her arm in his once more and led her from the building. Vernon might be easily riled, but she had always been able to calm him when necessary.

Sometimes, she wondered if she should have done so more often when the boys were children.

Later that night, as she climbed into bed beside him, and his arm automatically wound around her waist, she sent a silent prayer to the gods.

No matter what her feelings were towards him, she wished her nephew the happiest life possible.