Dudley's Girlfriend
By: Amanda, a.k.a. Rosie
Based on an idea from Silver Dragon. Also part of *big announcer voice* "The Invitation-only KiwiMelon15 Challenge".
Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm as stupid as JK Rowling. Not.
Also, I'm posting this without it having been "officially beta-ed". I've read through it several times so it should be peachy-king, fine-and-dandy
This is set with the background that Voldermort was killed at the end of sixth year. And Dumbledore didn't die and isn't gay*.
Summary: Contrary to the title, the story has NOTHING to do with Dudley or his girlfriend (thank God, right). Dudley has a girlfriend, & Harry's been relentlessly teasing Dudley about her. Dudley retaliates by with the typical, "At least I have a girlfriend," causing Harry to pull out a picture of Hermione and claim she's his girlfriend. What happens when the Grangers show up at the Dursley's and Dudley demands proof of Harry and Hermione's "relationship"?
*Please see Author's Note at end of Chapter One
*~*~*
"Aww, Duddykins going to see his wittle girlfriend," Harry teased as he followed his cousin up the stairs. "Well, she's not so little, is she, Dudley? She's got a good size on her." He leaned casually against the doorframe of his room watching Dudley's retreating back continue down the hall, Harry commented, "What's she five foot six, two-fifty?"
Dudley turned, anger in his eye. Seeing the smirk on Harry's face upset him more. Harry, knowing what was going through his cousin's slow brain, crossed his arms. "Now, Dudley," he said, "need I remind you that I am seventeen years old, of age in the wizarding world, a legal adult and able to perform magic outside of Hogwarts."
Dudley paused in his advance on Harry, his eyes narrowing as if trying to read a bluff. "You wouldn't," he replied finally. "Dad'll beat you good and lock you in the cupboard."
Harry blew air through his lips creating a sputtering sound of mockery. "Yeah, I'm sure," he told Dudley sarcastically before backing into his room. "Have fun with your hippo tonight," he called out before shutting his door. Hippo was the name Harry had taken to using when referring to Dudley's girlfriend since the girl had come to meet the family (minus Harry, of course, but he'd caught a glimpse of her). While his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had fawned over how cute a couple they were, Harry believed there had been a mix up with the cages at the zoo. Since when did hippos and pigs breed?
Seething, Dudley barged into Harry's room.
"Ever heard of knocking?" Harry asked from where he was lying on his bed.
"You know what?" Dudley yelled, ignoring Harry's question. "At least I have a girlfriend!"
"Are you implying I don't have a girlfriend? What would give you any reason to say one way or another?"
"Who would want to date a freak like you?" Dudley pressed. "You're a freak among your other freaks."
"Yes, because `Mister Former-Junior-Boxing-Champion' over here is such a desirable catch." Harry sat up on the bed and swung his legs over the edge. "Dudley, leave my room, now," he told him seriously.
"HA! I am right! You don't have a girlfriend and you're jealous of me because I do!"
"Yes, that's precisely it; I'm envious that you're dating a whale."
"And now you admit it!" Dudley stated triumphantly, missing the obvious sarcasm in Harry's words.
Fed up with Dudley and vastly annoyed by him, Harry realized the only way to shut his cousin up and get him out of the room was to prove him wrong. "You don't think I have a girlfriend?" Not waiting for an answer, he went to his nightstand and picked up a picture of Hermione and him taken earlier that spring. He stared at a moment, reflecting on the day it was taken, how gorgeous Hermione had looked. "This is my girlfriend," he told Dudley, handing him the frame, hoping Hermione wouldn't find out and hex him within an inch of his life.
Dudley's eyes grew wide. "The picture!" he gasped. "It's- It's m-moving!"
"Well, it's from the wizarding world, you dolt," Harry responded, taking the picture back and gazed down at it, watching as the picture versions of himself and Hermione hugged slightly and waved at the camera.
"It's that the girl you're with at the train station every year? Hermione?"
Harry nodded absentmindedly, not caring how Dudley recalled her name, still absorbed in the beauty of Hermione. "Why wouldn't I be if she's my girlfriend?" he said, wishing more than anything those words were true. At the end of fifth year, Harry had realized he cared for Hermione a great deal, and throughout their sixth year (after having some surprising and arousing thoughts regarding him, her, and a empty Quidditch locker room), he came to the conclusion he loved her in the romantic sense. Feelings as strong as his for her could only mean that.
"She's been your girlfriend all these years?" Dudley asked, looking impressed and awed.
"No, you prat. We were best friends until the end of this year, when we became involved."
"Have you shagged her?"
Harry glared at him. For one, he seemed a little too eager to know, and two, that's not something Harry would be willing to share with Dudley.
"Dudley, leave before I get my wand. Why don't you go get ready to return your girlfriend to the wild animal park?"
Dudley glowered at Harry. "You're lucky I need to change," he muttered, exiting the room, the door shutting behind him.
Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin," he said, reaching for his wand and locking the door.
Feeling tired, Harry felt a nice nap was in order. He hadn't slept much the night before. He'd stayed up to finish some homework then had one of the various nightmares he endured and hadn't been able to go back to sleep after waking. This time, he didn't see dark, scary things of death, but beautiful, calming memories of him and Hermione.
*~*~*
A warm weight was on him, straddling his waist, firm, tender breasts pressed to his chest, soft lips against his, delicate hands grazing his skin. Her tongue touched his bottom lip seeking entrance and he willingly opened his mouth to hers.
He brought his hands over her smooth back to her bushy hair. "Hermione…" he gasped as her lips skimmed down his neck. He moved his hands to cup her butt pulling her down as he thrust up himself up slightly, showing her what she was doing to him.
"Harry," she moaned, feeling his arousal pressing into her. "I want to taste you," she told him, placing kisses down on his bare chest heading towards the erection straining in his boxers. She slipped the interfering article of clothing off his body and eyed him appraisingly. "Oh, Harry, I must say I'm impressed," she said before lowering her head.
Tap, tap, tap
Harry woke to a small noise and the morning sun creeping through his window. A look at the clock told him he had slept the rest of yesterday and all throughout the night, and it was now six a.m.
Hmm, thinking about Hermione helps more ways than one, he thought with a grin, have to keep that in mind…
Tap, tap, tap
There it was again; that infernal sound that woke him from his wonderful dream. He glanced at the window and saw Hedwig there, clutching a note in her beak. Pulling on his glasses, he could make out his name written in the neat cursive that was Hermione's.
Grinning madly, he leapt out of bed, his morning wood momentarily forgotten in his eagerness to read what Hermione had to say.
Harry,
Since Ron is visiting Bill in Egypt with his family, my parents and I are coming tomorrow to take you to get your school supplies. And so you won't have to go back to those awful people that are your relatives, you will be spending the remainder of the summer at my house.
I won't take no for an answer, Harry James. We'll be at your house at eleven sharp, so be ready. See you tomorrow.
Love from,
Hermione
"As if I'd say no," Harry muttered to himself, stripping and walking into the private bathroom he'd conjured for himself as soon as he was able to legally. Spending the rest of the summer with Hermione was his idea of heaven.
Thinking of Hermione returned his attention to what his dream had caused. He stepped under the warm spray that cascaded down his body, imagining it was Hermione's fingers caressing his body. His thoughts turned to his dream as he soaped his body, remembering how Hermione felt on top of him, what she was about to do to him, what he wanted to do to her. His lathered hand moved to grasp himself, sliding from head to base and back again.
Imagining Hermione's body against him, he thrust repeatedly into his hand. Her curves at his finger tips, her tight, wet warmth wrapped around him, her beautiful brown eyes staring into his, her full pink lips curling into a smile as she whispers three little words to him…
Harry groaned, leaning back on the shower wall, her name escaping his lips in a breath as he came.
He smiled sadly, resuming his shower. Dreams, fantasies, and masturbation will have to suffice, he thought, since I'll never have the real thing.
*~*~*
On his own accord, Harry woke at six-thirty the next morning, excitement coursing through his veins. He had thought of nothing else but her arrival since receiving Hermione's letter. He was nervous, anxious, enthusiastic, and praying that being so near to her, yet so far away wouldn't kill him
Two hours later, he had eaten (as much as he queasy stomach would allow), packed, and showered and was now pacing nervously in his room with Hedwig watching him as she sat sleepily in her cage.
Thinking back to breakfast when he had informed his aunt and uncle Hermione was coming over later that day, he scowled, hoping his "family" would mind their manners.
"Yes, Vernon," Harry had said in a bored tone, refusing to give his uncle a respective title anymore, "she's like me, but her parents are like you."
"So they'll know my pain," Vernon had replied form behind the business page of the paper.
Harry rolled his eyes, thinking, His pain my arse. Too happy about Hermione coming later that day to start an argument, he had gone straight up to his room and packed.
Ten-thirty rolled around and Harry checked his appearance for the eighth time since getting dressed. "Maybe I should wear the black sweater she gave me for Christmas," he mumbled, looking at the reflection of him in loose blue jeans and a black shirt that showed his muscle definition. "No, too hot for a sweater."
"Talking to yourself, freak?" Dudley asked form the doorway.
"Dudley, how would you like to be in a full body bind?"
"Why do you care so much how you look? It's only one of your freak friends coming to get you."
"Don't say that about Hermione," Harry replied slowly through a clenched jaw.
"The girl from the picture? Hmm…" Dudley said as if in thought, leaving the room.
Harry nodded, not realizing his cousin had left, his attention focused on the link of his shirt. Palming his wand he muttered a cleaning charm that acted as a lint roller and waved his wand over his body. "Better," he said, checking his appearance as the doorbell rang.
At that simple sound, Harry's eyes widened, his head snapped in the direction of the door and the butterflies in his stomach increased tenfold.
"It's just Hermione, just Hermione," her repeated to himself quietly as he headed quickly down the stairs. Yeah, just Hermione, who you're in love with and who doesn't know it.
He reached the entry hall when Hermione was stepping through the door his uncle held open for her and stood in awe at the beauty before him. Her hair, no longer bushy but curly and full, hung loose around her shoulders, her fitted sundress ending at mid-thigh accentuated her slim figure, the light pink color of the material looked perfect on her. It was a simple dress, but looked exquisite on her.
Her eyes met his and she smiled happily at him. "Harry," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as his encircled her waist, "I missed you so much."
Harry pulled her close to him, inhaling her scent. Strawberry vanilla. "You look so beautiful, 'Mione," he whispered, barely audible, "and you wouldn't believe how much I missed you."
Whatever Harry expected Hermione's reaction to be to that, it didn't come. Instead, her embrace seemed to tighten around him. Vaguely in the background, he heard his uncle say, "Dr. Granger, what brings you to our home?"
"What?" Harry said, reluctantly drawing away from Hermione as Vernon's words sunk in. "You know the Grangers?" he asked thoroughly confused.
"The Grangers are our dentist, boy," he replied, placing emphasis on our. The Dursleys had never taken Harry to a dentist; it really was a wonder he still had all his teeth, "as if it's any of your concern."
Hermione frowned at him, an expression Harry was sure was mirrored on his own face. "Let's get your trunk, Harry, we don't want to have to spend any more time here than necessary. I'll introduce you in the car," she added, knowing Harry was going to say he needed to meet her father.
"Alright, my trunks in my room."
She nodded, calling over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs, "We'll be right down, Daddy."
Harry followed Hermione upstairs, watching the sway of her hips as she took each step, then chastising himself for staring so blatantly at her. Then continuing to stare. He was a teenage male, after all.
She led him right to his room and he was impressed she remembered that his would be the one with the numerous locks on the outside doorframe. Throwing a few shirts he was debating to change into at the last minute in his trunk, they were in the middle of locking it, enjoying the easy small talk about Dudley's second bedroom when Dudley himself stopped in the doorway.
"So this is your girlfriend?" he asked, eyeing her disgustingly and appraisingly.
Harry moved so he was standing in front of her, blocking Hermione from his perverted view. "Go away, Dudley, I'm trying to leave."
"Easy, cousin," he replied, causing Harry to narrow his eyes. Dudley never acknowledged they were related. "I just want some proof."
"Proof of what?" Harry asked, knowing full well what he meant.
"That you're really dating. I think you were lying to me, and you couldn't get a girlfriend, even another freak like you, if your life depended on it. And there's no way in hell you could get someone as hot as her."
Harry's eyes blazed angrily before panic overtook him. Oh, shite, Harry thought, not caring what Dudley's opinion of him was, Hermione's going to kill me. I can't lose Hermione's friendship, especially not for something as stupid as this. And I'm quite sure I'm overreacting but, dear Merlin, I'm a guy, that's what I do with the opposite sex.
At a loss for what to do, Harry simply stood there, staring at Dudley with hatred in his eyes. Then he felt her hand on his shoulder, touching lightly, asking him to turn. He faced her, his back now to Dudley and the door. He mouthed his apologies to her repeatedly, only stopping when she placed her hand softly to his cheek. Not to slap him, but to sooth him.
"Harry, if he wants proof, why not give it to him and prove him wrong?" she told him with a quick wink and small smile.
"Um…okay," he responded slowly, automatically, no other words coming to mind and not realizing how Hermione intended to prove to Dudley they were dating.
Comprehension dawned on him when her hand moved from his check to the back of his head, the other sliding up his chest to his neck. Instinctively, his hands went to her hips, then around her back pulling her close to him. Even if it isn't real, I'll take what I can get, he thought miserably.
Hermione tilted her head up, bringing Harry's to meet her. He grazed his lips against hers in a gentle, chaste kiss. He went to pull away, but the pressure form Hermione's hands refused to let him. Harry had no choice but to continue kissing her. Poor me, he thought slyly, his mouth forming a slight grin against Hermione's.
As if taking his smile as a cue, Hermione's mouth opened under his, her tongue brushing across his lower lip. Again on instinct, and maybe partially shock, Harry parted his lips to her, allowing her to deepen the kiss.
It was so perfect for Harry, excluding that Dudley was watching. Her mouth tasted so sweet, so uniquely Hermione. His hands moved to her hair, cradling her head softly.
He felt his body begin to react to their closeness and actions and had to fight to control it. Judging from the very quiet moan Hermione gave into his mouth, he hadn't completely succeeded.
"That's, uh, proof enough," Dudley stammered. Hearing his cousin's voice brought him back to reality and Harry reluctantly broke apart from Hermione, his chest heaving. He stared at her in amazement and admiration, thinking in the back of him mind she looked disappointed, while in the forefront he was wondering, Why on earth would she do that for me?
"We better get back downstairs," he said to her, turning from her and lifting his trunk and Hedwig's cage. "Your dad'll be wondering what's taking so long."
"Harry," Hermione said in the hall, "as much as I enjoy seeing your muscles in action, there's an easier way to do that." She pulled out her wand, giving her wrist a swish and flick, murmuring the levitation charm and directing the trunk to the entry hall, the owl cage perfectly balanced on top. "Now you can do this," she added softly, taking his hand in hers.
Words, yet again, escaped him and he stared down at his fingers laced with hers. Her hand was so warm, so soft. Just like her, Harry thought, a smile coming to his face as they walked down the stairs.
Seeing Hermione's parents standing near the door conversing with his aunt and uncle sent a jolt of fear through Harry and he dropped Hermione's hand from his. He immediately regretted it, missing the soothing comfort of her hand instantly and the slightly hurt expression on her face nearly broke his heart in two.
"Actually, we're quite proud of our daughter," Dr. Granger was telling Vernon Dursley. "She's the top of her class and has become quite accomplished."
"And I must admit, some spells do come in handy around the house," added Hermione's mother with a laugh. "Oh, there you are, dear," she said catching sight of Harry and Hermione.
"Harry," her father began, offering his hand, which Harry shook, "a pleasure to finally meet you properly. Hermione's told us a good deal about you."
"Nice to finally meet you, too, Dr. Granger, both of you. And most of what you heard is most likely exaggeration."
"Please, call us Robert and Helen, and somehow I doubt Hermione exaggerated at all."
"Deliberately withheld information is probably more accurate," included his wife. "Hermione said you were good looking, but she neglected to tell me how very handsome and so fit you were."
"Mother!" Hermione hissed from his side, blushing crimson.
"Thank you, ma'am," Harry felt his face warm as well at the compliment, and that Hermione thought he was good looking.
"Well, why don't we get going, then?" Robert said before his wife could embarrass his daughter further. "Have everything, Harry? I don't believe you'll be coming back for some time. If ever," Harry distinctly heard him mutter.
"Yes, sir, I'm sure," Harry answered, holding back his laughter. I'm not the only one that dislikes the Dursleys.
"Well, good," he said, clapping his hands together. "We'll stop off at the house to drop off your trunk before heading into London."
"Yes, sir." He turned toward his relatives, the ones who had so poorly cared for him the past sixteen years. "Well, bye. Maybe I'll stop by after graduation," he said politely, without emotion before walking out the door, his trunk floating in front of him to the car where they placed his trunk in the boot.
"Thank you for letting me rescue Harry, Daddy," Hermione said as she and Harry slid in the back seat of the car.
"Yes, thank you very much, sir," said Harry, "I really appreciate it. I can only entertain myself for so long in that house."
"Think nothing of it, Harry," Helen smiled. "After all the times you've saved our little girl, it's the least we can do."
"I actually think Hermione's saved me more than I've saved her. She's the brains behind our…escapades. I'm just the one that's usually the reasoning behind it."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "You swear like it's your fault, Harry. And half the time I have to force you to let me come along so I can save your neck."
"Yeah, but 'Mione, if it weren't for me-" he began, turning to face her, but she silenced him.
"Harry, it's not your fault, okay?" she said, taking his hands in hers. "Stop blaming yourself, please, Harry? We'll talk more about this later," she added with a subtle gesture toward her parents in the front seat.
He sighed heavily and nodded, recognizing to some extent, Hermione was right. He looked at her soft hands holding his rough ones, then up to meet her chocolate eyes. Harry felt a sudden, strong surge of affection, more so than usual, towards her that made his head spin.
That she could calm him with just a touch or a few choice words was what one of the things he loved most about her. Second only to the fact that she saw him as Harry, not The-Boy-Who-Lived (or the Man-Who-Conquered or whatever they were calling him these days), and stuck by his side enough to help him after endangering her life so many times.
Harry heard Hermione's mother give an odd sort of hum from the passenger seat and he looked up to see her having some sort of non-verbal conversation with her husband at the stoplight. He turned to Hermione again, giving her a questioning look with a glance at her parents. She gave a shrug in response before he realized they were doing the same thing as the Grangers. The thought caused a grin and a small laugh.
"What's so funny, Harry?" Hermione asked, a smile of her own creeping to her face at his random laughter.
"I'll tell you later, 'Mione," he replied, lacing her fingers with his giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Okay, Harry." He felt her watch as he laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. "Tired?"
"Mm-hmm. Got up early; too excited to sleep."
"Why were you so excited?"
"'Cause you were coming," he answered, cracking his eye a bit to gauge her reaction. She was blushing; he made her blush. He smirked a bit at the thought, feeling pleased himself.
"Oh," was all she said. After a moment, she laid her head on Harry's shoulder and he never wanted her to leave.
*~*~*
Thanks for reading. Please leave your thoughts.
Chapter 2 soon
=)
* My reasoning for omitting Dumbledore's sexual orientation is simply because it had absolutely no relevance to the story. I have nothing against homosexuals or anyone in the gay community in general. But I do not see what Dumbledore being gay could possibly add to the story, especially when Rowling announces it after the series is completed.
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