Title: Visitation

Author: Bastard Snow

Rating: K

Authors Notes: So, this is my first foray into Harry Potter fic. A little late to the party, I guess. This is also the first thing I've written in something like 6 years. It's short, and I may continue it, if the mood strikes me. No promises, though.

Dudley Dursley was bored. His summer holidays were in shambles. He'd spent a lot of time during the year trying to get a hold on his anger, and done a good job, so his teachers had said. But when he got home, his old mates had been there, and they'd expected him to be the same old Big D.

Dudley fell into old habits again, only this time he paid for it. He'd not been beaten up, nor gotten in trouble, either with his parents or the law. But when he'd gone to kick a trash can over he'd found it full of concrete, and now his foot was broken and he was using a bloody knee scooter to get around.

And now he could barely do that. Dad was off at work, and mum had gone out to do the shopping, leaving him a large soda and a bacon sandwich for if he got hungry. His mates, if he could call them that, abandoned him once he couldn't go out with them, and now he was stuck at home watching the telly all day.

It wasn't that he minded television. He didn't, he loved it. But after two weeks in a row of it all day everyday, it did get a bit samey, and the shows that were on in the middle of the day didn't really appeal to him. He'd almost got bored enough to start reading.

There was a knock at the door.

Dudley looked out the front window. There weren't any cars or vans there, and mum hadn't said anything about any workmen. It must mean someone had walked, to the door, then, and that meant he had to answer it. Mum would be - well, not furious, she didn't really get angry at him, but she'd be upset if he just ignored a neighbor. And anyway, it was something else to do.

Dudley heaved himself up off the couch and put his leg on the scooter, then wheeled himself towards the front door. Whoever it was knocked again as he'd rounded the corner from the living room.

"Be right there," Dudley called. He rolled up to the front door, took a quick breath, the grasped the knob and opened it. He would not have been more surprised if the Queen herself had been standing there.

"Harry," he said, shocked.

"Hey, Dud," his cousin said. "Can I come in?"

"Oh!" Dudley said, scooting back a little bit. "Yeah, sure, of course. Come in."

Harry walked in and shut the door behind him.

"Is that like a," Dudley paused and whispered, "magic thing? Have to be invited before you can enter a house?"

"No," Harry said, smiling slightly. "That's vampires. I just don't live here anymore, so it's, you know. Polite."

"Right, right," Dudley said. "Well. Come in, then, I guess. Fancy some tea? Only I guess... I can't really serve it."

"That's all right, Dudley," Harry said, following his cousin into the living room. "What happened to your leg?"

"My foot," Dudley said. "I broke it, foolin' around with some mates."

"What'd you do?" Harry asked. "Kick a curb?"

"Nah," said Dudley. "A bin filled with concrete."

"You kicked a bin?" Harry asked, incredulously.

"Yeah, well," Dudley said, a little sheepishly. "It was havin' a go, I guess."

Harry stared at his cousin for a solid ten seconds, and then burst out laughing. Dudley watched Harry for a second, and then had a little chuckle at himself, too.

"So what brings you around?" Dudley said. "I didn't really think I'd ever see you again."

"I wasn't sure either, to be honest," said Harry.

"Were things..." Dudley trailed off. "Was it bad this year? I know... I mean, I heard some things that sounded weird. Some people died."

"A lot of people died," Harry said. "Some of them were my friends. I don't really want to talk about it right now."

"Sure," said Dudley. Did that mean, though, that he wanted to talk about it later?

"Really, I just came by because I left a few things here, and I'd like to get them back."

"Yeah," Dudley said. "I had wondered if you were going to come for those. That book with teeth is... dangerous."

Harry grimaced. "I'd forgotten that one, actually. The Monster Book of Monsters. Maybe I'll get Hermione to disenchant it..."

"Hermione?" Dudley asked.

"A friend," Harry said. He glanced at the clock above the mantel. "Listen, I have to get going soon. Do you mind if I just...?"

"Go on," Dudley said. "I'd help you but my foot, you know."

"No problem," Harry said, getting up from the couch. "I should just be a minute or two."

Dudley waited awkwardly in the living room as his cousin went up to the spare room and gathered his things. A couple of minutes later, Harry came back down with a bag - Dudley hadn't seen a bag when he came in - full of books and some clothes.

"Lucky you showed up when you did," Dudley said. "If Mum'd been here, she'd'a had a right fit."

"Not luck, actually," Harry said. "Mrs. Figg rang me up to let me know."

"Mrs. Figg?" Dudley asked, pointing toward the woman's house. "The nutter who lives just up the street?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Only she's not a nutter, she's one of us." He seemed to consider this for a second. "Well, mostly."

Dudley decided not to pursue that any further.

"Anyway, thanks," Harry said, shouldering the bag. "For letting me get my stuff."

"It's your stuff," Dudley said with a shrug. "And anyway, it was uh. Good to see you. Knowin' you're alive, you know?"

Harry tilted his head slightly to one side. "Yeah, actually," he said, considering it. "It was good to see you too."

Dudley smiled.

"Do you trust me?" Harry asked, suddenly.

"Do I what?"

"Do you trust me?" Harry asked. "Just a little bit?"

"I guess so," Dudley said, surprised at the question.

Harry smiled and pulled his wand from his pocket, and pointed at Dudley's foot. "Episkey," he said with a quick hand motion.

Dudley immediately felt an easing of the pain in his foot.

"Give it a day or two. I've only started using that one in about the last month." Harry sighed, and Dudley knew there was more to that story as well. Dudley took his foot off of the scooter and tested it gingerly on the ground. There was no pain.

"Thanks," Dudley said. "That's brilliant."

"Just don't walk on it when people are around," Harry said. "At least your mum and dad. They'd go mental."

"Yeah," Dudley said. "Probably best if I don't mention you were here, actually. But I'm glad you dropped by."

"Listen," Harry said. "I've got a place in London. Kind of an old house, I inherited from my Godfather."

"The criminal?" Dudley asked.

Harry face flashed momentarily with anger, but it was gone just as quickly. "Yeah, him," Harry said. "Anyway, if you're going to be in London, and you think you might want to drop by, let Mrs. Figg know, and she can get word to me."

"Can't just give me the address?" Dudley asked.

"Not really," Harry said. "Magic stuff. Sorry. If you decide to come, let Mrs. Figg know a couple days in advance. Just you, though, right?"

"Right," Dudley said. "Thanks. I might take you up on that."

He and Harry stood awkwardly at the doorway for a moment.

"Well," Harry said.

Dudley nodded at him. Harry turned around and walked down the drive, and off up the street. Dudley shut the door and turned around. He tested his foot again, and still felt no pain. Not minding what his cousin had said, he limped on his cast back to the telly and sat down. Four more weeks until the cast came off. That might be a good time to go to London.