That Far Cry
A HariPo drabble
Note: The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. This pairing was discovered by me, so please gimme a little mention if you write them! Thanks! It is one of many of Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings, most of which you may find in the M&MWP forum. Check out and join the forum FUN! Read, review, and enjoy!
Marge Dursley paused at her favorite coffee stand on the way to work. Granted, the caffeine was a bit tepid today, but it helped. For a summer day, it was awfully breezy in England.
She grabbed a newspaper from the vendor's small stack and passed him the money. She flipped through the paper just like any other day, nothing much catching her eye.
"No Prophet, eh?" a voice asked the vendor.
Marge turned to get a look at the speaker. He was a rather small man with spectacles and graying hair, though he looked to be about her age. The vendor shook his head, and Marge felt as though she'd missed something.
"Oh well, then…" The man turned and met Marge's eyes. "Hullo, madam. Good day."
"If you can't find what you're looking for, there's a newsstand 'round the block," she informed him. He looked somewhat pitiful, the way his form looked…defeated. He walked away, and Marge sniffed. "Can't even say thank you…just like that Potter boy…," she grumbled to herself.
The man stopped, his eyes suddenly bright. "Beg pardon?"
She paused. "What?"
"Potter, you said Potter… You know Harry Potter?" He appeared hopeful.
"I do, unfortunately," Marge sniffed. "What's it to you? Who are you?"
"The name's Amos Diggory, madam," he replied, holding out his hand. He pulled it back without offense when she didn't shake it. "My son… Harry was with my son when he died."
As heartless as Marge Dursley liked to be, even she felt uncomfortable when Amos stated that. "Oh," she replied. What more could she say to—to that?
A silent moment passed, and Amos kindly smiled. "May I?"
"May I…er, have a coffee with you?"
She raised an eyebrow and her cup in hand.
"Oh, of course… I was just—I was wondering what you knew about him."
Marge huffed. "He's my brother's nephew. He's nothing special." Though Marge had to wonder what that boy had done at his school. Vernon hadn't told her about any deaths at that school! She felt grateful that he and Dudley weren't attending the same institution.
Again, Amos looked broken, and Marge rolled her eyes. "All right, then, I haven't eaten."
He picked up his head and at least he didn't look as sickly as before. He led her to a little restaurant nearby with an outside area. They sat and he let her order whatever she wanted, but he appeared to want to ask her any question. "So, what's it like?"
"What's what like?"
"Being related—even if indirectly—to Harry Potter?"
Marge raised an eyebrow again. What did he want to hear? "Wouldn't really know," she answered. "Thankfully I only visit my brother's family every now and then. He's a handful of trouble, you know."
"Trouble?" Amos' brow furrowed.
"Trouble. Nothing but bad things happen when he's around. Maybe he's why his 'peculiar' parents died in that accident…" She shook her head. "I admire my brother's strength for taking him in."
"Accident? His parents' accident?" Even as he asked it, Amos seemed to be losing his pleasant mood.
That made Marge falter. "Well, I didn't really know them. But they were an odd pair. And…well, they bred something quite odd themselves."
Amos nodded, but he'd gone quiet. His hands were folded on the table and he wasn't eating anything himself.
"So…," Marge said, changing the subject, "you said your son…"
Amos removed his glasses and locked eyes with her. "Harry almost saved my son. But it wasn't up to him. So he brought me his body. Seeing Cedric devastated me and caused the heart attack that cost me my wife, as well, but… Harry's a brave boy, Miss…"
"Miss Dursley. And you think Lily and James Potter were peculiar?" Amos shook his head, and Marge wondered if he was hiding some quiet anger. "I knew them. I went to school with them. They were some of the best people around. They were murdered by—" He stopped, thinking better. "Oh, you don't know, do you? You're a Muggle, aren't you? Of course… Lily was a Muggle-born, of course…"
Marge had no idea what he was talking about, these Muggles and Muggle-borns, but…well, she certainly felt out-of-touch and insulted. Of course, to be told that Potter had tried to save someone's life and that his parents were some of the best people around… It was a far cry from what Vernon and Petunia had told Marge about the boy. And, by comparison, Marge felt like she was a far cry from what this man was telling her the Potters were like. He spoke about them with a kind of reverence that made Marge feel that she had never done anything of worth. Even compared to her brother, who had a job, wife, family, and home… What had she done all these years?
"I'm sorry. It was a mistake to ask you about Harry," Amos said abruptly, standing from his chair.
"Ah—" Marge stopped, words caught in her throat. Never had anyone caught her like this before, and been pleasant with and chided her all at once before.
"Good day, Miss Dursley."
It felt like a slap in the face, his words being so polite they were curt. Marge stood. "Ah, Mr. Diggory—"
He paused and let her speak.
"I, er… You—you said you were friends with Potter's—ah, Harry's parents."
"I was." His eyes softened, and Marge felt funny as she hoped he might kindly smile again.
"Perhaps—perhaps you could tell me what my brother and his wife couldn't. Sometime."
While his eyes were still sadly soft, Amos gave her a very tiny grin. "Sometime."
Very subtle, but I kind of wanted someone to set Marge straight about James and Lily. Who better than Amos? :] I have another idea for Margamos that I think I like more… It's called, "Way Back Then," and isn't set in the same universe of this, though. Hope you enjoy it, though!
Thank you very much for reading, and please review!