Wednesday Evening
14 October 2009
Harry's POV
I stood in front of the mirror, frowning at my jumper, despite the mirror's assurance that I looked "ravishing," and groaned, shoving my hands through my hair in frustration.
"Are you getting all dressed up for your date with Dudley?" Draco teased, leaning casually against the doorframe of the closet.
"Should I be nervous?" he asked, winking at me as he took a sip of tea from the mug he held in his left hand.
I rolled my eyes, letting my hands fall to my sides.
"Yes," I retorted. "Very."
Draco set his mug down on the island of drawers in the middle of the closet and crossed over to my side, his eyes flicking over the mess, reminding me that I really needed to tidy my side up before Draco blew a fuse.
When I had officially moved in a few weeks ago, Kreacher in tow, I'd nearly doubled over in laughter to discover that, instead of downsizing any of his massive wardrobe to make room for mine, Draco had merely added more space to his already enormous closet.
A smaller side, made for, you know, a normal-sized wardrobe.
A smaller side that I, for some reason, could never keep neat even despite Kreacher and Bessie popping up once a week to tidy up.
If I wasn't certain it would've sent Draco into another rage, this time actually burning down the Dursley's house, I probably would have tried joking that my inability to put clothing away properly stemmed from having grown up in a cupboard with no proper closet or dresser to speak of.
"I wouldn't have pushed so hard for you to talk to him if I'd have known I had any competition," he joked, hands tugging and arranging my jumper and the button-down beneath it so that they did exactly what I'd been trying to get them to do for the past five minutes.
"Well, he is blond," I dead-panned, nodding sagely and Draco snorted and laughed quietly.
"Wow, Potter. You decide you have a type, and you just go all out, hmm?"
While Dudley may have lost a considerable amount of weight and, according to Draco, had also undergone a considerable attitude adjustment, he still couldn't hold a candle to Draco.
And I was pretty sure that was in anyone's opinion, and not just my very Draco-obsessed one.
"You're joining us later, right?" I reminded him.
He insisted he had something to do for work and would be running late; I was sure there was no work involved, and Draco only wanted me to stumble my way through an endless half-hour of awkward conversation with Dudley on my own before he showed up.
"Don't worry," he reassured me, giving me a quick kiss. "I'll meet you just as soon as I finish up."
"Mmm," I replied, pulling him back for another kiss. "Finish up soon, then."
***
A short while later, I found myself ambling along Camden High Street, eyes seeking the large, noticeable black exterior of the pub with The World's End emblazoned in gold lettering where Dudley had decided we'd meet for a few pints.
I found him easily enough, sitting at one of the bars when I entered, and he raised his pint in greeting as I ambled up to the bar.
"Hi, Harry," he greeted, looking just as awkward and nervous as I was.
"I would've ordered you a pint, then realised I have no idea what you two like. Paid for this first round, though. Just have to let the barman know your order... your... he's coming, right?"
The barman came over just then, and I ordered my pint from the impressive lineup of taps and picked out a blond ale for Draco.
"Where is your... boyfriend?... partner?" Dudley seemed uncertain of what to call Draco.
"Boyfriend," I agreed, taking a sip of my pint and taking a look around at the place. It looked like a fantastic pub, huge, with lots of light flooding in from the glass ceilings and a cosy-looking mezzanine upstairs, and I knew I'd be suggesting it as a possibility when Draco and I met up with Hermione, Ron, Blaise, and Pansy for another night out.
"He had to do something for work, but he'll be here soon."
"We could've waited to grab his pint," Dudley reasoned. "So it'll be cold when he gets here."
Oh.
Right.
Muggles had to worry about shit like that.
I'd nearly forgotten what it was like to drink a lukewarm beer that had been sitting on a bar table for far too long without a stasis charm to keep it cool.
"Don't worry," I said quickly. "I can... erm... I'll... make sure it stays cold."
Draco was insistent that Dudley had changed, and my cousin was being downright pleasant so far, but I still wasn't sure how he felt about magic.
Especially after Draco's visit to his parents' house over the weekend.
"Oh. Well, okay," he agreed.
"Do you want to find a table upstairs? It's nice on the mezzanine with the light shining in."
I nodded and grabbed my two pints, then followed Dudley up the spiral stairs adjacent to the bar to the mezzanine, where we found an empty table near the wrought-iron railing that overlooked the main pub downstairs.
I set my pints down and gave a casual wave of my hand towards them to keep them cool, then looked up to see Dudley watching me in fascination.
"Did you just do..." he trailed off as I, on a whim, waved my hand towards his pint.
"Now your beer won't get warm," I informed him with a grin.
"Bloody hell, that's cool," he practically sighed in awe.
"So..." I began awkwardly, despite the sense of relief I felt at Dudley's decidedly excited reaction to magic that was so refreshingly opposite of how he'd been as a child.
"Erm..." he said at exactly the same time, and we both took an equally awkward sip from our pints.
"What does... Dray-coh?" he sounded out carefully, and I nodded for him to continue.
"Draco," he repeated as though to commit the name to memory. "What does he do?
"I mean, what sort of jobs do..." he glanced around surreptitiously, and I realised he was worried about being overheard.
"Don't worry," I encouraged him with another smirk. "They can't hear us."
He frowned.
"You lot have a spell for that, too?"
I nodded, and Dudley chuckled and shook his head.
"Jesus, I wish I could relive my childhood and be nicer to you," he confided.
"I mean, not just... you know... so you could do cool magic shit for me, but..."
He took another sip of his pint and averted his gaze.
"Erm. Thanks, Dudley," I replied earnestly. "So, erm, I think you were... maybe going to ask what sort of jobs wizards do?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I mean, I don't know why, but I just sort of assumed the jobs you have are different. Or are they?"
"I think they sort of correlate to Muggle jobs," I mused. "Like, my best mate, Ron... he's the one who used to scream into the telephone because he didn't know how they worked?"
Dudley grinned and nodded.
"Red hair?"
"Yeah, that's him. He's an Auror, and that's more or less like a detective."
"Draco..." I continued, frowning.
"Honestly, this is going to sound a bit odd," I admitted sheepishly. "But, I'm not quite sure what it is he does."
Dudley frowned back.
"Yeah, that's a bit odd," he agreed.
"I mean, I know what he does, but," I paused again, trying to think of the easiest way to explain an Unspeakable to Dudley.
"He works for a department in the Ministry for Magic called the Department of Mysteries, his official job title being what's called an Unspeakable.
"No one knows exactly what they do except that they work in one of four areas: love, thought, death, or time. And it's all highly confidential, obviously.
"I think it's mostly research and writing reports and then advising the ministry.
"Lots of research," I added, rolling my eyes as I remembered the latest pile of books and parchments Draco had brought home with him.
Dudley looked horrified.
"That sounds awful," he stated. "Like... endless uni, or something."
I nearly spit out my mouthful of beer at Dudley's apt description.
"You know, I think if I ever need to describe Draco's profession ever again, I'm borrowing that."
"So, you two were mates back at school, then?"
I actually did sort of spit out my beer this time.
"No," I managed, wiping a stray dribble away with my sleeve. "Definitely not."
Dudley looked intrigued at my reaction, so I continued.
"His family were... on the opposite side during the war, and I was... kind of leading the good side, so, erm... you know. Not the best formula for a friendship."
"Oh, right," Dudley nodded. "Was his dad really that maniac's right-hand man?"
I nodded.
"I think he kind of lost favour at the end, but yeah.
"He was one of his biggest supporters throughout the years and a truly evil man."
"He's dead then?" Dudley asked, looking genuinely relieved. "Did you? I mean, was it you that, erm..."
"No," I shook my head.
"He got sentenced to Azkaban, the wizard jail. And, erm, remember those Dementors?"
Dudley nodded and shuddered a bit.
"Well, yeah. That."
"You'd think that'd be encouragement enough not to fuck up in your world," he commented, and I nodded in agreement.
"Explains a bit, though," he continued. "No offense, mate, but your Draco-person is a bit scary."
I chuckled, thinking of what kind of first impression I'd have had if I'd "met" Draco on Saturday, eyes blazing, throwing my parents up against the wall while he magically shattered every bit of glass in the house.
"Erm... yeah, he can certainly be intimidating when he wants to be," I admitted.
"But don't worry, I think you'll be meeting a very different side to Draco tonight."
"It makes sense," Dudley shrugged. "If I ever found out someone treated Alice like that, and I could do that sort of thing, I'd do the same."
"What do you do?" he asked, bringing the subject back to his original question.
"For work?"
"Me? I'm a... professional Quidditch player."
Dudley stared at me blankly.
"It's... kind of like wizard football."
"Bloody hell, you're, like, famous!"
I shrugged.
If only he knew.
"And it's really a lot like football, then?"
"Merlin, no," I laughed. "Not at all.
"It's played about thirty to sixty metres up in the air on broomsticks, for starters.
"And there are four balls and three goalposts to worry about."
Dudley was staring at me, pint paused halfway to his mouth.
"Wow."
"What about you?" I realised I'd been dominating the conversation and hoped I didn't seem rude. "What did you end up doing?"
I knew Uncle Vernon had hoped Dudley would follow in his footsteps at Grunnings, but something told me he hadn't.
"Real estate," he shrugged. "Nothing exciting. Pays the bills."
"So... your mum and dad... they were both wizards, right?" Dudley seemed determined to keep the conversation focused on the wizarding world, I guess.
"Erm. Yeah."
"So... being a wizard... it's kind of like a gene, then? Like, they passed it on to you?"
"I... yeah. Something like that."
"But... your mum was my mum's sister, and she's not..."
"A witch?" I supplied. "No, she's definitely not."
"And my grandmum and granddad weren't either, so..."
"I don't really know how it works, Dudley," I admitted again with a shrug.
"I know there are non-wizard couples that have wizard children, and there are wizard couples that have non-wizard children.
"I just assume sometime in the past, one of our ancestors was born non-wizard from a wizard family or something."
"Do you..." Dudley began tearing the paper coaster in his hands nervously.
"Do you think... maybe I could have that wizard gene or something?"
I stared at him, unsure as to how to answer politely.
"Well, I wouldn't know... but I think you would have had a few clues, at least, by now."
"No," he rolled his eyes and chucked the remainder of the coaster at me good-naturedly.
"Not me, silly. I mean... do you think there's a chance my... you know, Callum, and Violet, and Alfie...?" he trailed off, and my mouth fell open, realisation dawning on me.
Dudley, doing everything he could to be helpful to Draco on Saturday.
Dudley, seeming indifferent towards his parents.
Dudley, obsessed with wizard genes and what wizards do after school.
"It's... very possible, I'd assume," I replied honestly. "Why?"
"Well... it's just... you remember how odd stuff would happen around you when you were a kid?"
I nodded, and Dudley took a deep breath, pressing forward.
"Well... a lot of odd stuff happens around them, too.
"Not, you know, exactly the same. Like, none of them have ever ended up on top of the school kitchens or anything."
"That was pretty extreme," I admitted, downing the remainder of my pint because, fuck, my cousin had pretty much just informed me that his kids were wizards.
"So, what kind of stuff?"
"Well, it's hard to say because I think I just rationalised it a lot while Callum was younger, and so I don't know how well I'm remembering some of this, but, like, we would find piles of lima beans in the plants or under the sofa..."
"That's classic," I laughed. "Any of my mates with kids complain about finding deposits of disliked veg all over the place."
"Alice and I just thought he was stuffing them in his pockets or a napkin and then hiding them."
Dudley seemed amused as he also finished the last of his pint.
"You never did that," he added as an afterthought.
"I was just happy to eat any food that was offered to me," I reminded Dudley, a little more relaxed thanks to the pint.
Dudley winced.
"Right. Erm... sorry," he apologised again.
"Not really your fault, but thanks," I replied.
"So... Callum's a wizard, huh?" I grinned, remembering the Christmas card that had come last year and how I'd liked the impish grin spread across the eldest boy's face.
"Christ, Harry," Dudley rested his forehead in his massive palm and stared across the table at me with a rueful grin.
"The other week, he came home from a sleepover with bright blue hair, and Alice lost her mind. She called the other boy's mum to give her an earful, and the poor woman had no idea what she was talking about!"
"So, Alice doesn't have any idea then?"
"How could she?" Dudley asked. "I mean, she knows there's weird things that happen around them, but she keeps finding ways to explain it away.
"I mean, so did I, until one day I remembered you ending up on that roof, and it sort of clicked."
"We're getting my Harry all caught up, then?" Draco's voice suddenly appeared as he sat on the stool beside me, setting another round of pints on the table.
"The barman said he remembered what you ordered," he explained, sliding one of the pints in front of Dudley and another before me.
"Thanks," Dudley said, and I could tell that he was just a tad nervous.
Not that I blamed him after the spectacular show Draco had put on last Saturday.
"Dudley was just telling me about the magical bursts his kids have. His eldest might be a Metamorphmagus... changed his hair blue and everything!"
"I know," Draco replied, taking a large sip of his pint and smirking across the table at Dudley. "Does Alice still think it was George?"
"Yes, and she's quite upset with George's mum for refusing to admit that she allowed them to dye his hair during the sleepover.
"So, you really can read minds, huh? Does it get annoying?"
"It's not exactly mind reading," Draco frowned. "It's... it's more like... like I'm watching a video clip you recorded on your phone with your commentary on it... does that make sense?"
"Yeah," Dudley nodded. "Yeah, actually, it does."
"Is Callum the only one?" I asked, and Dudley laughed.
"No," he said with an emphatic shake of his head.
"Actually, it was little Alfie who got me thinking about it, really. He's... well.
"You know how I said we found ways to rationalise Callum. Like, maybe it's natural for all toddlers to go hide lima beans in the hallway plant and whatnot."
"I hid my corn," Draco volunteered. "I hate corn."
"Who hates corn?" I demanded, scrunching up my face and giving him a weird look.
"Me," he replied. "I do. I just told you so."
"I'm sorry, Dudley, what about Alfie, though?"
"Well, he does things that you really have trouble rationalising," Dudley explained, talking at the table, brow furrowed in thought.
"Like, you'd tuck him in for the night, then find half his stuffed animals that had been put away on the shelves in the crib with him next morning.
"Or a box of biscuits that we store high up in the cupboards so even Callum can't reach them, empty on the floor, and crumbs all round little Alfie's mouth.
"And... this mind-reading thing," he paused and glanced up at Draco.
"I don't know if there's more than one kind or if he's like you, but he responds to things I'm only thinking in my head."
Draco and I were both staring at Dudley in curious surprise.
"What?" he asked, looking somewhat nervous again.
"Your son, Alfie," Draco began slowly. "He's how old?"
"Four."
"And... you suspect he might be a Legilimens?"
"Look, I don't know what that word means, but if it means doing that video-watching-with-commentary thing in his mind, then yes.
"I mean, the other day, for example, I was upset because I hadn't closed a sale like I'd thought I would... and the money was going to go towards a nice holiday for all of us at Christmas..."
"What? Not an enormous pile of presents?" I teased.
Dudley smiled sheepishly.
"We don't do presents at Christmas," he confided. "Only a few for their birthdays.
"Mum and Dad think it's all Alice, of course, but we do a nice holiday at Christmas to spend time together and be a family. Usually somewhere in the UK, but this year, we were hoping to make it to New York... anyway.
"There we were, waiting outside the school to pick up Callum and Violet, and I'm thinking to myself what a bummer it is we won't be going to New York, and Alfie looks up and says, 'It's okay, Papa, we can go to New York another time'."
"You do realise that most Legilimens need to be taught?" I asked.
"No," Dudley replied, taking another sip from his pint. "Why would I know that?"
"It's definitely a learned skill," Draco said.
"Then how do you know if you have it?" Dudley asked, brow furrowed.
"You don't, necessarily," Draco replied. "It's sort of a Dark Arts... erm... obscure magic, if you will.
"And, it's a talent, really, like, I dunno... football?
"A child could have a wonderful talent for football, but you'd never know if you never signed him up for the local kiddie league...."
"Who taught you?" I asked, suddenly curious.
"My mum," Draco replied immediately. "Who else?"
"I dunno. Always assumed Bellatrix."
Draco turned to stare at me, horrified.
"Bellatrix?" he demanded. "Having access to my mind? I'd be fucking dead."
"Who's Bellatrix?" Dudley asked.
"My insane Aunt, who's, thankfully, dead," Draco replied.
"Damn. So you've got a little Metamorphmagus and a baby Legilimens on hand..." I mused.
"What about Violet?"
"Honestly, I've no idea," Dudley responded, sighing. "I mean, there are lots of things that happen when she's around, like the telly changing stations back and forth, like the kids are fighting over what to watch, but I can't tell if she's involved or just there and caught up in Callum and Alfie's nonsense.
"It's, I think, sometimes very convenient for her to be the middle child and the only girl... most things she just passes off on her brothers."
We all sat in silence for a bit, drinking our pints.
"Look, maybe... hopefully," Dudley began, twirling his glass in his hands and staring down at it as though it were the most fascinating object he'd ever seen.
"I hope you both realise that what I want is to support my children."
Dudley glanced quickly at Draco and I, then back down to his pint.
"I... Harry, I'm so sorry, really.
"I've felt horrible about the way we treated you since, you know, the Demon-soul-sucky thing, but I had no idea how to go about doing anything about it.
"Still don't, honestly. I mean, all I can do is say I'm truly sorry, and I don't think that'll ever nearly be enough, but... all that was compounded, like, a hundred-fold when I had my own kids, and... well... I... I just want to be there for them, and I really don't know how in these situations.
"I imagine they have to know they're different, and... I want to help them navigate that, so... you know... any advice or help you'd be willing to offer..."
I could only stare at Dudley for a minute.
"Dudley," I began, trying to find the words. "That's... honestly... the nicest thing you could have said to... I dunno... fix our childhood?"
"Yeah," he admitted gruffly, not quite meeting my eyes. "Well, I love my kids..."
"No matter what," he added, staring at both Draco and I bravely.
"We should meet them," Draco suggested, leaning one elbow on the table and cradling his chin in his palm.
"Absolutely," Dudley agreed, nodding vigorously. "That'd be bloody fantastic."
"You should tell Alice," I added.
"I know, but..."
"How?" Draco finished for him, and Dudley nodded.
"I think you're the only one here with experience with that," I teased, looking over at Draco.
"Yes, and it went horribly," he reminded me. "I had to Obliviate him."
"What's that mean?" Dudley asked.
"I erased his memory," Draco replied.
"I mean, just of the part where we were together. Not all of it," he amended, seeing the terrified look on Dudley's face.
"You didn't have to erase your entire relationship," I reasoned. "Just the part where he freaked out about the magic."
Why I was offering my current boyfriend relationship advice regarding one of his exes was beyond me, but here I was...
"What, so then we'd still be in a relationship, and I'd still have to tell him I was a wizard, and he'd still freak out, and then I could just keep Obliviating him so it'd be like some sick real-life rendition of that stupid '50 First Dates' movie?" Draco demanded.
"But... you loved him."
"I know," he hissed, eyes flashing, and I took the hint and turned my attention back to Dudley.
I couldn't imagine what it'd feel like if I ever had to Obliviate Draco of everything we'd shared.
"So, maybe don't tell Alice?" Dudley asked.
"You don't have to tell her quite yet," I said slowly.
"I mean, could you just say, you know, next time something odd happens, that stuff like that used to happen with me? Then it might be easier to tell her when we're all together, meeting up for the first time?"
"That could work," Dudley said slowly.
"I mean, I don't know Alice... you do whatever you think is best for you, but..." I glanced at Draco. "It'd be lovely to have you all over for dinner or something. Maybe after the holidays?"
"It would be," Draco agreed. "I'd really like to meet Alfie, in particular. He could probably use some pointers... you know... on how to... stay out of minds."
"Yeah, that'd all be brilliant," Dudley said, nodding his head emphatically.
"I'm really glad you agreed to meet me for a pint, Harry," he told me earnestly, and I couldn't help but smile back.
"Me, too, Big D."
I couldn't help but throw out his childhood nickname and grin at him cheekily.
I glanced down at our empty pints, then back up at my cousin, asking if he had time for a third, and final, round.
He assured me that he did, and our evening continued, the three of us discussing and planning a meeting between Draco and I, and my, apparently, very magical little cousins.