On his way to drop off Dudley's laundry in his bedroom, Vernon paused when he heard the boys chattering away in Harry's room. Looking in through the cracked door, he saw his son bend down to rummage through Harry's trunk as the boy finished filling his pet owl's water dish.

"Hey! Is this the stuff you have to wear for that sport you play at school?" Dudley asked as he pulled out of Harry's school trunk what appeared to be shoulder pads.

Harry nodded as he came over to take the gear from Dudley. "Yeah," he answered.

Elbowing his way into the room then, Vernon set aside the laundry basket and began to look at the other pieces of Harry's sports gear that lay still lay in the trunk. Staring at the equipment, he tried to remember if Harry had told him about being a part of a sports team. Vaguely, he could recall something about Harry mentioning a time or two playing a game that involved brooms and flying spheres.

"You made a sports team?" Vernon asked his nephew as he turned around.

The boy turned away and reached into his owl's cage, beginning to pet its white feathers.

Dudley, however, had no qualms about gushing about what Harry must have told him. "Yeah, Dad! He impressed some professors with his skills flying a broom during flying class one day and was offered a spot on his house's team! He's the first first year in forever to make the team!"

Vernon blinked at Harry. His scrawny nephew made a sports team where you had to wear gear like this? "What do you do on your sports team, Harry?" he asked the boy.

"I'm the seeker," Harry answered. "I'm supposed to try and capture the snitch and stuff. You have to be fast and I am."

Nodding as he heard this, Vernon flashed him a bit of a smile, still miffed about the fact his nephew hadn't told him he was on the team. "That's good," he praised. "Sports are good for lads - they teach discipline."

Harry perked up at this. "Really? It's good I'm playing a magic sport?" he asked.

Vernon nodded.

A smile beginning at the corner of his lips, Harry told Vernon, "Professor McGonagall said my dad was good at Quidditch and flying too."

"Oh?" Vernon replied, surprised at this sudden, almost giddy offering of information.

Smile blinding now, Harry said, "Yeah."

While he knew he should be happy that Harry was feeling a connection with his father, he couldn't help himself when he said, "Don't try and become too much like him, lad."

"Why?" the boy demanded, smile gone and frown now marring his face.

Vernon sighed. "Being exactly like your father would probably end up with you dead too," he explained with some reluctance.

"Who should I be like then, Uncle Vernon? My mum ended up dead too."

Looking into his nephew's hurt, angry green eyes all Vernon could think was he'd made a mess of things yet again.

Putting a hand on his cousin's arm, Dudley began, "Harry…Dad didn't mean-"

"-Like Petunia. Petunia was smart and shrewd and she always could tell when something strange was going on. She also always had for plan fixing it," Vernon cut in over his son. Then, giving Dudley a long look, he told the boy, "You could do with being more like her too, son." Gaze wandering away from the boys, Vernon whispered, more to himself than anything, "We all could."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied.

Nodding, Vernon patted both boy's heads. "Good," he said before leaving the boys alone once more.

Vernon would never know it, but Harry would take his words to heart.

He'd never know that his nephew would practice these skills with hyper-vigilance and that it would be thanks to him that the diary that found its way into Ginny Weasley cauldron would end up in a certain blond Slytherin's school books instead.

All the same, Harry would find his way into the Chamber of Secrets. All the same, Vernon would be visiting Hogwarts for a second time..

He would begin to wonder if his yearly visit wasn't destined to become some kind of tradition.

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While Vernon's defining event of the year for 1993 may have looked like it was going to be his second visit to Hogwarts, he would find only a few months later, in actuality, it was his run-in with recently divorced Loraine Adams nee Temple, an old friend of his sister's.

Vernon had just finished dropping Harry off at the station and it was on his way out that he bumped into Loraine. She'd been ahead of him, walking with her hand in her purse, when she stopped abruptly.

"Ah! Watch where-" Vernon had begun, angry. Who just stopped in the middle of a train terminal, after all? However, all those hostile feelings evaporated the moment she looked up.

He recognized her immediately. "Loraine?" he asked.

Blinking up at him with surprised brown eyes, she exclaimed, "My! You're Vernon Dursley, aren't you? Marge's brother!"

"That's right," he answered, a bit uncomfortable with the mention of his sister. He hadn't seen Marge in almost eleven years now. Her blatant hate for Harry had been too poisonous to allow around the boys.

Loraine was smiling at him now and it caused Vernon's eyes gravitated to the gap between her front teeth. He remembered, how when he was a boy, he'd thought the imperfection was sort of cute. "Who would think I'd run into you here of all places!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, it is a surprise," he agreed. Reaching out for her hand, he said warmly, "A happy one."

Looking down at their hands, Loraine gave it a squeeze before taking it back to rifle through her purse. A moment later, she pulled out a pen and a little notebook decorated with sparkles and stickers. Noticing how he frowned at it, she laughed. "My daughter made me a box-worth of customized mini-journals when she was ten. She's fifteen now, but I forgot about them until recently when I…moved."

"I see," Vernon replied, understanding there was much more to the move than her simply changing houses or flats.

Loraine scribbled down something on one of the pages of the journal and teared it out. "That's my address and phone number. Call me some time. I'd love to catch up!"

Taking the paper, Vernon thanked her and tucked it away in his pocket.

Still smiling, Loraine said, "I wish I could chat now, but I have to be at work in an hour! I hope I will see you soon, Vernon!" and with that, she was off.

Watching her disappear into the throngs, Vernon was already thinking of the best cafe in Little Whinging he could take her to.

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When Christmas rolled around, Vernon insisted Harry come home for the first time ever for the holidays. Harry seemed a bit surprised by Vernon's demand, but agreed without any seeming ill-will in his return letter. Dudley, of course, needed no prompting to come home and had instead written about all the things he wanted them to do together when Vernon told him Harry would be home this Christmas.

Wiping his hands down his pant legs, Vernon said, "I'm nervous."

Mrs Whitmore smiled at him as she took the fruitcake she had made out of the oven. "It'll be fine in the end, Mr Dursley, you'll see," she said comfortingly.

Getting up, he took the cake from her and said, "You really are too kind, Mrs Whitmore."

Rubbing her hands, she replied, "Maybe in another year you'll be living together, hm? I'm not getting any younger and my arthritis is only getting worse with each passing day. I just don't think I'll be able to keep up working here much longer, though, I'd hate to leave you in the lurch."

"Maybe," Vernon conceded. "Loraine and I have been talking, after all. But Mrs Whitmore…Even if you do decide to quit, I'd hope you'd still come by for tea once in a while. I've grown quite fond of your company."

Giving his arm a squeeze, she said, "So have I. Now, why don't you go get the boys while I finish cleaning up here?"

Nodding, Vernon finished his cup of tea before heading off.

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"What's your news, Dad?" Dudley asked as they piled into the car.

Gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles began to pale, Vernon said through a false smile, "Let's wait until we get home to discuss that, okay?"

Watching his son and nephew share a look through the rearview mirror, Vernon closed his eyes a moment, hoping that the boys wouldn't ask any questions.

"Uncle Vernon…" Harry said, sounding both nervous and hesitant.

He sighed. "Yes, Harry?"

"This…This isn't bad news, is it?" he asked.

Vernon looked back at the boys, feeling gobsmacked by the question. "No!" he sputtered. "It's good - I think."

"You think?" Dudley pressed, a frown on his round face.

Turning back around, Vernon corrected himself. "It is good," he told the boys. Finger going to the key waiting in the ignition, Vernon shook his head. It was probably best he get the conversation out of the way now, rather than later.

"Boys," he began, "I have some news."

"Good news," Harry mumbled.

Sending the twelve-year-old a narrow-eyed stare, he dipped his head in agreement. "Good news," he concurred, "I've met a very kind lady and we are thinking about moving in together this summer."

Both boys just stared at him, their young faces showing every one of the emotions this statement evoked in them. They both started with shock, however, while Harry's mellowed into something not quite disgruntled, Dudley's took on a truly furious expression.

"What about Mum?" he cried. "Have you just forgotten all about her? That's her home too, you know!"

"Your mother's dead, Dudley," Vernon reminded him in a strangled tone.

Tears beading in the corners of Dudley's eyes, he yelled back, "That doesn't matter! It's still her home!"

Sending a helpless look to his nephew, Vernon attempted to find the right words to tell Dudley that his mother wouldn't mind sharing their home. That his mother would be happy knowing he'd found someone, that he'd found someone to be a true mother to Dudley. Mrs Whitmore may have been a wonderful, caring nanny, but she never could have loved Dudley as much as Petunia. She, a childless woman, could never have given him the things mothers seemed to instinctively.

Glaring at him with almost hateful eyes, Harry reached over and wrapped an arm around his cousin. "It's okay, Dudley," he soothed. "Even if this lady comes to live at our house, it'll never be hers."

Watching as Harry comforted his son, Vernon knew he'd have to sell his home on Privet Drive. He'd have to buy a new one, a home where he and his boys could become a real family with Loraine and her daughter.

The thought of giving up the home he and Petunia had started their lives in was heartbreaking, but Vernon just didn't know how else he was going to fix this one.

"Let's go home," he said after a long moment.

Starting the car, Vernon began to drive.

He did his best to ignore the way his son sniffled and the sound of Harry's soft voice promising him all kinds of things that he could never fulfill. It was disconcerting how much it reminded him of the late nights where Petunia would do the same with an equally upset, but infant Dudley.

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"Vernon, I don't know if this will work."

"What do you mean?"

"Your son has made it quite clear he thinks I'm some kind of villain and your nephew just glares."

"They'll come around."

"Are you sure about that? Or are you just hoping?"

"Look, this is a first for them, okay? They've…They don't know what it's like to see me dating."

"…Alright."

"Really?"

"Yes, love."

"You're a beautiful woman, you know that?"

"I think you've said that before…"

"I love you Loraine."

"I love you too, Vernon.

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Staring long and hard at his nephew, Vernon could only sigh. "How do you get in so much serious trouble, Harry?" he demanded.

The boy just stared at his toes.

"This letter your professor sent me sounds almost fantastical, Harry! I just don't understand how a thirteen year old boy does all this!" he shouted at his nephew as he waved around the letter.

Jaw set mulishly, Harry declared, "I just do."

"You want to know something, Harry? I don't know what to do with you."

Glaring at him, the boy said, "There's nothing to do. This is just how I am!"

"Well, you better change that, Harry. I can't have this. I can't have a nephew who's going to risk life and limb every damn year while he's at school. What will I tell Dudley and Mrs Whitmore when you come home in a casket? They love you and it would just kill them if you died."

Jumping to his feet, Harry yelled, "I bet you'd be glad if I was dead! Then I wouldn't be a burden anymore!"

Vernon threw down the letter, fed up. "You are being absolutely ridiculous, Harry," he growled. "I want you to go upstairs to your room and don't come down until you're feeling reasonable."

Harry barked a laugh before walking toward the stairs.

Watching the boy stomp up the steps, Vernon held back a groan and dropped his face into his hands. A few moments later, he felt thin fingers brush against the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry, love," Loraine whispered.

Lifting his head up, he grimaced at his fiancee. "It didn't sound too pretty, did it?" he asked.

"He's just being a teenager," she soothed. "I can't tell you how awful the rows I used to get into with Samantha were. I'd yell, she'd scream, I'd threaten, she'd cry…"

"How'd you get past that?" Vernon questioned.

Loraine sat down beside him, weaving her fingers into his. Lips puckered thoughtfully, she gave one of her curly brown locks a tug and said, "You know, it seems so simple now. One day, I think I just told her I was tired of our fighting and asked her why we always had to. She didn't have a real reason and we just stopped. After that, whenever things between us got heated again, one of us would stop and ask if we were really fighting about anything important."

Smiling at him, Loraine said to Vernon, "Usually we weren't. When we were, though, we'd start thinking of solutions instead of yelling after we identified the problem."

"I don't know if that will work with Harry and I," Vernon replied after a pause. Their fights were always over the trouble Harry got into. Whenever Vernon tried to figure out why he was causing so much trouble, Harry never had an answer.

Giving his cheek a kiss, Loraine remarked, "From what little I've seen, it just looks like Harry's testing you. He's seeing if there's a point where you'll just throw in the rag. I'm not surprised, I have to say. He is your nephew, not your son. Poor Harry has probably feared for some time that one day you'd just give up when he proved to be too much of a bother."

Vernon pulled back.

"You got all that from watching what, two or three fights between us?" he demanded.

Loraine shook her head. "It's more than just the fights, Vernon. Have you ever seen the way he looks at you sometimes? It's so like he's so…scared. Sometimes, I wonder if Harry thinks you'll turn on him. Dudley never looks that way. Even when I know he's angry with you, there's never any fear."

"Harry's scared," Vernon murmured, "Harry's scared."

Resting her head on his shoulder, Loraine agreed, "Yes, scared."

As he sat there, Vernon began to think of all the ways he could manipulate Harry into behaving with this fear of his. Then, because he knew if he did something like that it wouldn't be only Harry who couldn't forgive him, he forgot it all in favor of thinking ways to show Harry he didn't have to fear Vernon disowning him.

His ideas were much fewer with the second option, but Vernon hoped it would be worth it.

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Shortly into Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, he received a letter from his nephew. Reading and re-reading it, he came to shake his head.

Pencil between her lips and crossword laid out in front of her, Loraine raised an eyebrow in question.

Putting the letter down, Vernon sighed. "It's-It's-" he stopped in frustration, too upset to form the right words.

She pulled the pencil from her lips and set it aside. Reaching across the table next, Loraine laid her baby-blue painted nails on Harry's letter and asked gently, "May I see?"

Vernon nodded. She knew about Harry's magic school - he had to tell her. It didn't seem right to let her move in with him and keep such an intimate part of his and his boys' lives secret. Taking the letter, she read it. Then, just like Vernon, read it a second time.

"…He's been entered in some kind of tournament meant for older students? Is this even safe for Harry?" Loraine questioned.

He shrugged. "Who knows," he answered.

"You should write his Headmaster," Loraine said. "This seems wrong. If children his age aren't even supposed to enter, why are they letting him participate?"

Vernon looked at her for a long moment. "Do you think that will do anything? I'm not a wizard or anything, hell, I'm not even his father."

"Of course it will, Vernon! You're as good as his father! If you don't want him involved in this tournament they have to listen to you! If they don't, pull him from Hogwarts. You can send him to Smeltings for the rest of the year and we can begin to look into alternative magic schools for him in the meantime," Loraine argued.

Beginning to nod, Vernon said with great hesitancy, "I'll give it a go."

"Good," Loraine replied. Satisfied that things were resolved, she picked up her pencil and began to work on her crossword once more.

Staring at Harry's letter, Vernon came to feel with a stomach-dropping intensity that things would not be nearly as straightforward as Loraine made it out to be. No, he was sure that his letter to the Headmaster would only be the beginning.

A/N: Thanks for reading and please vote and comment!

What were your thoughts on this chapter? How do you feel about the addition of this woman, Loraine? How about the expansion on Harry and Dudley's relationship? About the way Harry and Vernon are really starting to butt heads now? And also this is not a drarry story.