For a moment, Harry thought it was a hallucination or a stupid mistake. How could Dudley be here?Warnings:
The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.Author’s Notes:
This was written for this week’s sortinghatdrabs
; the characters were Dudley Dursley and one of the Trio, and the prompt was let me introduce you to...
For a moment he thought it was a hallucination brought on by the headache he always got from art (or more precisely, the headache he always got from Draco trying to explain art to him). The massive blond man wasn’t facing Harry. It was probably just a stupid mistake.
Harry felt sick.
“Harry?” Draco caught his expression, and looked worried. But Harry couldn’t look at him. His eyes were fixed on the wide back as it turned, and yes: of course. Dudley Dursley.
The blue eyes landed on Harry and went wide. Harry’s stomach twisted. Dudley’s mouth opened in shock and for a moment the cousins stared at each other.
Dudley looked like Uncle Vernon. And he was coming this way.
“Harry.” Dudley looked half-paralysed with awkwardness.
“I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend,” Dudley said.
“I’d like to introduce you to a world of pain,” snarled Draco. His eyes were narrowed in pale slits of hatred.
“How… how are you?” Dudley’s small eyes were fixed nervously on Draco, but like all nice middle-class boys from the Home Counties, he kept mouthing the social pleasantries like nothing was wrong.
Draco stepped closer, his hands curling into fists. Like all posh English aristocrats from the country, he was too confident to be put aside from anger by niceties. Especially when he was this angry.
“Stop it,” Harry said, his voice tight. Any fight between Draco and Dudley was a foregone conclusion. But the sight of his slim boyfriend squaring up to Dudley filled him with irrational panic.
For a moment Draco didn’t turn. The muscles of his back were so tense Harry wasn’t sure he could
Then he came back, and it was just a few feet but the relief of having him where Harry could touch him was enormous.
“I’m well. This is my boyfriend, Draco.”
“Ah,” Dudley said, the nervousness spreading itself across his face increasing. “I’m, um, I’m middle management at Barclay’s these days.”
Harry nodded. This wasn’t meant to happen. This was an evening art exhibition that Draco had dragged him to. It was part of his grown-up life, of his escape: he was an adult with a boyfriend who loved him, with places to be of an evening, with family. How could Dudley be here?
“Maybe, er, we could get together some time,” Dudley continued doggedly.
“I don’t think so.” And Harry was leaving, half-running with Draco’s hand at his back. Forty seconds later they collapsed on a park bench with Harry’s face pressed against Draco’s stomach, Draco’s hands in his hair.
Dudley. With a girlfriend and a job. Not just the boy who’d said he wasn’t a waste of space and terrorised him his whole childhood.
They were cousins and they could have been brothers, but they didn’t know each other back then and hadn’t the faintest knowledge of each other now. Maybe Dudley wanted to change that, but Harry had never needed closure.
He’d escaped. He’d won. He didn’t have to go back.
He kissed Draco, sweet and long. “Let’s go home.”