She looked like something out of a dream...the way her long, blonde tresses flowed and moved from the slight spring breeze...the way her sparkling, green eyes gazed up at me, twinkling in the moonlight. She stepped closer to me, and I could barely contain myself. "I love you," I breathed, and I was delighted when she gasped oh-so-prettily, her breath catching in her throat.
"I...I love you too..."
"Oi, Potter! Don't tell me you've gone faggot on me!"
Harry nearly fell off the sofa as his cousin loudly sauntered in the room where he had fallen asleep watching the news. Unfortunately the news had ended quite some time ago and a mushy romance movie had begun. Of course, that was the perfect time for Dudley to decide to come home (from wherever it was he had been) because it was the perfect time to pick on Harry.
"Oh, come on," he mumbled sleepily. "You know I wasn't watching that."
"As if you expect me to believe that," Dudley scoffed as he marched into the living room and clicked off the television set. "I oughtta just call you Pansy Potter from now on."
"Pansy this," Harry said, and flipped the Dursley boy the bird, to which the larger boy snorted as he plopped down in the recliner to read the daily newspaper.
It's rather amazing what a few years can do to any sort of relationship. Harry had graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, and just afterwards had an ordeal with Voldemort that had completely obliterated the older wizard but also rendered Harry nearly powerless. Although he was still very much accepted in the wizarding world, the boy had elected to convert a portion of his fortune into muggle money and buy a small apartment. He was tired of everyone feeling sorry for him or telling him how great he was. He wasn't going to feel sorry for himself, or grasp hopelessly for some sort of 'cure' for his condition. If he wasn't going to have his perfect dream life, then he was going to work damn hard to make a decent, normal living for himself. Because of this, he hadn't seen any of his cohorts from Hogwarts for over a year and a half, though the occasional owl did fly in from time to time.
So where does Dudley fit into all this? Well, as it turns out, once he had hit puberty and discovered the opposite sex, Dudley had grown quite tired of his pampering parents. A kid can only stand so much parental cuddling and sweetness in front of his friends, and after being embarrassed one too many times than he would have liked, Dudley had begun rebelling against Petunia and Vernon Dursley in a vain attempt to get them off of his back. He would often do the opposite of what they asked of him (if he did anything for them at all, that is) and he even defended Harry a few times just to spite them. He joined the football team despite their wishes to keep their 'Little Dudders" safe from harm, and within a few years had toned up his disgustingly pudgy body and became the leading offensive lineman for his local college's team.
When Harry had purchased his own apartment, Dudley turned up there a few months later - what better way to annoy the older Dursleys than to live with the accursed Harry Potter? Although still arrogant, Dudley's personality had rounded out a bit and Harry found living with his cousin to be quite tolerable - especially because the Dursleys insisted on sending money to Dudley every month. Harry was quite sure that Dudley hadn't told his parents that the money was going towards the rent and other general expenses. He couldn't blame his cousin really - if the Dursleys knew that Dudley had developed a sense of honor and dignity, they probably wouldn't send him money at all.
Harry groaned and sat up, running his hands through his unruly hair. He worked the night shift at the public hospital, and upon a glance at the clock, he saw that he had just enough time to take a quick shower before he had to leave. He enjoyed his work at the hospital, and didn't even mind the night shift so much. He was given that shift because most of the freak accidents happened around that time. People would come in with strange abrasions, rashes, and other symptoms that the hospital staff had never seen before. Of course it happened throughout the day as well, but usually the cases weren't so bad and they were given a room to stay in until their 'specialist' arrived at 8:00 PM.
This job was, for the most part, Harry's only connection to the wizarding world. The people he treated were usually those that had stumbled unwittingly into a stray magical creature or plant of some sort. When Harry had first applied there, the head nurse was skeptical about hiring someone with no training. However, during his trial month he had managed to successfully treat so many patients with baffling symptoms that the staff was happy to have him aboard. They found his methods to be a bit odd (to say the least), but since they tended to work, they didn't make a fuss.
After a quick shower and another futile attempt to tame his hair, Harry walked to work; the hospital was only a few blocks from his apartment. Upon arriving, he was greeted with a smile from the receptionist. She was a pretty little thing, really; she had fair skin, short black tresses, and sensual curves. She was also peeved that Harry didn't even seem to notice, though she would never mention it to him since he didn't express preference to any of his coworkers.
"Mornin', Gloria! Got anything for me?"
Yeah, the hots, she thought with a smirk. "Actually, an hour ago a young woman came in with a strange case. It appears that she's...uh...blue."
"Blue?" he repeated, a bit confused.
"Yeah, blue," she confirmed, handing him the woman's information. "You know, like the color. Blue as a smurf, she was, and the doctors couldn't do a thing with her. She's in room 107 now."
He pouted slightly, unable to remember anything that would cause a person to turn blue. "Thanks, 'Ria," he said with a wave before shuffling off to room 107. He was really baffled about this one - usually his memory was quite good, and this would have definitely been a symptom that was odd enough to be easily remembered.
Harry reached the designated door and pushed it open. He was about to look down at the woman's folder when he realized that he didn't need to. Although he hadn't seen her for almost two years, the woman sitting on the bed (and staring with rapt attention at the television) was immediately recognizable to him. Why she was blue was anyone's guess.
"Hermione?"