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hp_misfitfics2008-02-22 09:07 pm
humantales.livejournal.com) wrote in hp_misfitfics2008-02-22 09:07 pm
Dudley Dursley and the Knights of Walpurgis - Chapter 1
Title: Dudley Dursley and the Knights of Walpurgis
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
humantales
Rating: PG13
Summary: After twenty years of happy normalcy, Dudley sees another letter from Hogwarts. This one is addressed to his daughter.
Author’s Note: Many thanks to MuggleProf for her beta job.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
July 7, 2018
Meals seemed pretty normal, as long as you didn't watch the washing up too closely. But now they were going to this Diagon Alley, by way of the Floo. Dudley's tension had skyrocketed as soon as that was mentioned, so Sophie thought it was likely something he'd seen when he was growing up. Something that had gone wrong and no one had explained it to him. When she finally got to discuss this with her in-laws, Sophie would have a few things to say to them.
What really worried her was this war. Both Harry and Ginny had insisted that it was over, that there were no remnants of it being fought. Judging from the fact that the children treated it as boring, something to sleep through in history class, Sophie thought that was probably the truth, but it was also obvious that it still affected Harry. She planned on checking out the history section at the bookstore; surely there would be something there.
Breakfast was much like breakfast in her own household, but with owls to bring the post and a magical scrub brush to clean the dishes. The breakfast conversation was a comparison of magical scrub-brushes and dishwashers; the two women concluded that they were pretty even, all things considered.
While helping Ginny to brush everyone clean after they stepped out of the Floo, Sophie wondered if the efficiency and non-existent travel time was worth the soot and falls associated with magical travel. Watching Harry complain as he fell out of the fireplace on the other end made her wonder why they didn't just drive.
The entrance to Diagon Alley turned out to be behind the Leaky Cauldron. Someone magical had to open it; Dudley and Sophie would never be able to go there on their own. Harry tapped a couple of the bricks and the wall opened up onto the alley.
The rest of the morning turned into a blur for Sophie. Harry and Ginny were clearly old hands and moved them along quickly and efficiently. It took a bit for Sophie to realise the main reason they were doing so; whenever they stopped for more than a minute, people began coming up to Harry, shaking his hand, and thanking him for everything he'd done. What he'd done was never explicitly stated, although one old man thanked him for "making our world safe for my grandchildren". It made Sophie wonder. Until now, considering how little Dudley knew, she'd assumed that Harry had been part of the fight, but no more important than would be expected for a teenager. As she watched the people watch Harry, even when they didn't approach him, and the practiced way he greeted and thanked them, Sophie began to think that whatever it was that Harry had done was a little more than simply fighting in their war.
Their second to last stop was the bookstore. While the others went looking for the necessary schoolbooks, Sophie went for the history books. To her surprise, not only were there quite a few about the war, but there were several specifically about Harry. She pulled out the two general books that looked to be the most complete and tried to decide which of the biographies she should get. As she was trying to determine which was the best from the front flap material, a man walked up to her and asked, "Need some help?"
Sophie looked up, a bit startled; she hadn't heard him. He was about her age, tall and slender with pale blond hair, grey eyes and a pointed chin. "Just trying to decide which of these to buy. Do you have any suggestions? And you are?"
"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm Draco Malfoy. And I'm probably not the best person to ask for the best biography of the Boy Who Lived, Ms.--?"
"Sophie Dursley," she said, holding out her hand to shake. "I was looking for some information on Harry Potter. Is he really called the Boy Who Lived?"
"Only in the newspapers. Malfoy," Harry said, walking up behind her. He looked at the books she was browsing and winced. "This is the best of the histories," he said with a sigh, handing one of the history books she'd chosen, "and I'd go with this one to supplement it." He pulled another book off the shelf that Sophie had discarded as she hadn't been able to determine what it was about. "And I promise you, Daphne will be perfectly safe; the war is over."
Before Sophie could say anything, Mr. Malfoy said, "It sounds as if Mrs. Dursley would like to make sure of that herself. Daphne is your daughter?" he asked Sophie. "I had a Daphne Dursley on my list of Muggleborn first years, but she was crossed off."
"Dudley is my cousin," Harry said, his voice tight. "He was more comfortable having me explain things than a total stranger."
"Of course," Mr. Malfoy drawled. "I've compiled a reading list for first year Muggleborns and their parents; it's designed to help explain the Wizarding world and allow the children to fit in better once they begin attending Hogwarts. May I send it to you?"
"Yes," Sophie said, wishing that one of them would step away. The tension between the two men was giving her a headache.
"May I ask why you've compiled the list? You don't know anything about Muggles or what they do and don't know." Harry was glaring at the other man.
"I know more than you might think," Mr. Malfoy said. His posture was relaxed but his voice was almost as tight as Harry's. "I've been helping Muggleborns get used to the Wizarding world since I was eighteen. Oh, and I would recommend this one for the biography. It's on the reading list." He pointed to one of the books she'd been looking at, The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Defeater of Voldemort: And All Without His NEWTs. He turned and walked away.
Once he was out of sight, Harry sighed heavily. Then he looked at Sophie with a rueful smile. "Sorry about that. We hated each other in school and I've hardly seen him at all since then. You know, I'll answer any questions you have; really, I will."
"Yes," Sophie said, although she had her doubts, "but I don't know what questions to ask. Dudley might have a better idea, but--"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, but it's all tied up with all the stuff we're carefully not discussing. Dudley now's not a bad bloke. I can see spending a pleasant evening in a pub with him. Back then, well, his favourite game was Harry Hunting. It makes some discussions tough."
"So, I'll read this book and then I'll know what questions to ask," Sophie said. "Do people really call you these things?"
With a sigh, Harry shrugged. "Not so much any more. Twenty years ago, well, even then it was mostly the newspapers. As for why I was in the newspapers . . . Merlin, I hate talking about this stuff. It makes me sound so, so, arrogant. Why does anybody care?"
"There you are!" Ginny said, turning a corner behind Harry. "What happened? You two look like something happened."
"Malfoy," Harry said. "And Sophie's looking for a little light reading." He suddenly turned to Sophie. "Are you related to the Grangers?"
The non sequitor surprised Sophie. "Who?"
"One of my sisters-in-law," Ginny said absently. "What kind of books were you looking at?" Then she saw the books Sophie was holding. "Oh. Tomorrow, ask my mother about Harry. She'll tell you everything you could possibly want to know and then some. Come on; the kids are dying to get to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."
Ginny's brothers' shop was everything a teen or preteen could want in a joke shop. It was bright, loud and filled with jokes that were, as a friend had once put it, "rude, crude and socially unacceptable". Rich was frustrated that he wouldn't be able to show most of the jokes to his friends since they relied on magic; Sophie made herself a note to check his bags when they got home in case of smuggling. Then she realised she'd have to check all three of the kids. And maybe Dudley as well.
As they sat at an ice cream parlour once they'd finished their shopping, Sophie looked at her family. Daphne's eyes were bright and she was chattering away to anyone who would listen to her. She'd pulled out her wand and was waving it around, despite the lectures on wand safety that both Harry and Ginny had given her. Other people noticing her smiled; they seemed to be both amused and nostalgic. Tom was chattering at Albus at a million miles a minute; Albus was being kind enough to allow it. Rich and James were quiet and seemed to be casually checking out the pretty girls. Casually for young teens, anyway.
Sophie leaned over to Dudley. "They all look happy, don't they?"
He nodded, his eyes still a little shadowed. "I was talking to the lady at the book shop; she said there was to be a Hogwarts tour for all the first years and their families in two weeks. I signed us up. I, I can't just let her go without--"
Harry leaned over. "What's this about a tour?"
"Yeah, they were saying at Flourish and Blott's that they were trying to ease the first years in a bit more than is traditional," Ginny said, leaning over. "There's a tour, a shopping day at Diagon Alley, and maybe even a Quidditch match, although that's still open. Some of the old biddies are complaining about how 'It's not traditional,' but I think it's great. Especially for the Muggleborns. Hermione still complains about how scary it was to start without knowing anything."
"Hermione knew plenty," Harry said with a laugh. "She'd memorised all her textbooks and was working on Hogwarts: A History by the time we got on the Hogwarts Express."
Daphne's eyes were huge. "Really. Should I start on mine?"
"I don't believe that," said Sophie as Harry said, "Absolutely not." When Sophie indicated he should continue, Harry said, "Hermione did that for her own peace of mind. I'd skimmed a few of mine, but I hardly knew anything when I started. And you'll get yourself a reputation if you do memorise them."
"It didn't hurt Hermione any," Ginny said.
"I'm not so sure about that," Harry argued. "If it hadn't been for the troll--"
"There's trolls?" Daphne asked, looking enraptured. "Are they nice?"
"No," Harry said. "Fortunately, you very, very rarely see them around people. This one had been lured there to be a distraction. We got very lucky."
"No trolls. Got it," Daphne said, a smile back on her face. "And I don't have to memorise the books, but reading them over's a good idea. Right?"
"Right," Ginny said, standing up. "Why don't we head back to the house and relax for the rest of the evening?"
Everyone seemed agreeable to that idea. Once home, the two girls set themselves up on the living room floor. Daphne was reading her new textbooks and Lily was reading Daphne's fantasy novels. The boys went upstairs, from which bangs and thumps came for the rest of the day. "We have a ward that lets us know if they've done anything dangerous or destructive," Ginny told Sophie when she was starting to go up to check on them after one particularly long bang followed by silence. "Mum gave it to me when I was carrying James. We've found they cause less trouble when we don't look over their shoulders. Harry'll go up for something in a few minutes and look in on them then."
"Hell with that," said Harry. "It sounds like they're having fun; I'm going to go up and join them. How about you, Dudley?"
Once they'd straightened up a bit, Ginny indicated the girls. "Shall we join them?" Sophie was agreeable; she wanted to know what questions to ask.
Sophie read the biography first. She started off writing notes as she read, but it wasn't too long before she was just reading. It was gripping reading, if you could forget that the child she was reading about was real. She finished late in the afternoon and put the book aside.
She'd been so absorbed that she hadn't noticed that the girls had left and that Harry was now sitting in the "Dad" chair. He was glancing through some papers, but looked up at her when she put the book down. "What did you think?"
Sophie had no idea how to respond to his wry question. "How can you be so normal?" was what came out, to her dismay.
Fortunately, Harry chuckled. "It's down to frame of reference," he said, settling back. "Reading it like that, as an adult, knowing what's normal for most kids, it probably does sound pretty horrible. I haven't read it, by the way; I've not read any of the biographies. It feels weird, reading about myself that way. Anyway, it was just my life. Kids don't get a choice in who raises them and how and," Harry paused, seeming to struggle for words. "People also go on about what a hero I was, but I never saw any real alternatives. Not without changing who I was, who I am. Even--" Harry shook his head. "Sometimes it was hard, but it was the right thing to do. So I did it."
Sophie stared at him. Some of the things he'd done were truly heroic, difficult decisions that most people could never make, and this pleasant, unassuming man said it was just what he had to do? She couldn't get her head around it. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but not that Dudley's cousin, who didn't get along with his parents and never came to family gatherings, was one of the two, maybe three, key figures in a war. And, now, his life felt unnaturally normal. That actually made sense to her; after the events of his childhood, she could see how he would want a "normal" life.
"Daphne's going to have problems at Hogwarts, isn't she?" she finally asked. "It's pretty clear that people know how Dudley and his parents treated you."
"We're working on that," Harry said with a shrug. "I've been talking to everyone at work, as has Ginny, about what a nice guy Dudley grew up into. Once they meet him, Ron and Hermione will work on that, too."
"They're pretty protective of you, huh?" Sophie asked. It was clear from her reading that the relationship between Harry, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger was unusually tight. She wondered idly if Hermione Granger and Ginny's sister-in-law were the same person; it seemed possible.
"You have no idea," Harry said, chuckling. "Then, I sat James and Al down and explained things: both what happened when Dud and I were kids and what's going on now. They've been charged with keeping an eye on her and treating her just as they would a little sister. They'll probably tease her unmercifully, but they'll keep anyone else from doing so. And again, after tomorrow, the rest of the Weasleys should be doing the same thing. I'm kind of hoping she gets sorted into Gryffindor. The Head, Neville Longbottom, is a good friend of mine; I know he'll keep an eye on her." Harry was smiling fondly when he said, "Well, he would anyway, but he can do a better job if she's in his House. We'll keep her safe; I promise."
"From you, that means something," Sophie said, still having trouble reconciling the man she was getting to know with the one in the book. He seemed too . . . happy. That realisation crystallised what she was feeling. "How were you able to keep going, to not, I don't know, demand the world from everyone?"
Harry grinned. "I already had what was most important to me. And, because I never tried for it, I also had as much power, as much wealth, and more fame than I ever wanted. I'm perfectly happy not living on a grand scale. Now," he asked as he stood, "how does some food sound? Ginny's throwing a couple of salads together, and Dudley's burning some meat on the grill."
Sophie grinned. Dudley was nearly a gourmet cook as long as it involved the grill. "Sounds good."
July 8, 2018
Dudley woke Sunday morning to Sophie shaking his shoulder. "Wha'?" he mumbled, burrowing more deeply into the bed.
"Get up!" his wife said, sternly. "You need to get up and get moving or we'll miss church."
"Harry never went to church," Dudley grumbled as he disentangled himself from the covers.
"Your parents never went to church," Sophie said, getting dressed now that she was sure Dudley was getting up. "It doesn't matter; we're all going this morning."
"Good thing we brought nice clothes," Dudley said, fumbling his dressing gown on to go and shave.
"Yes, it's a good thing I know how to pack. Now, get moving."
Breakfast wasn't as rushed as Dudley had expected from Sophie's rushing; apparently, she'd given him plenty of time. To Dudley's surprise, Harry made it. "Wouldn't have thought you'd ever cook after . . ." he muttered.
Harry grinned at him. "Knowing I can eat as much as I want, and snitch bits as I'm cooking, makes all the difference. I enjoy cooking these days."
Ginny snitched a piece of bacon, for which Harry smacked her hand. He then apologized with a kiss. "Get a room!" their eldest, James, yelled.
Harry stuck out his tongue. "I got the house, so there!"
Ginny smacked his bum. "Behave yourself!"
The light-hearted banter continued as they left the house. "The church is just a little ways away," Harry told him. "We always walk unless the weather's really bad."
"Plus this way we don't put the whole town at risk of Harry's driving," Ginny said, laughing.
"I'm not that bad," Harry said.
Dudley sidled up to him. "Is this a . . . one of our churches or one of yours?"
Shaking his head, Harry said with a laugh, "There's really no difference, but there's both Muggles and wizards in the congregation, so magic never gets mentioned. Don't worry; you'll be fine."
To Dudley's relief, Harry was right. The service was just like the one at home. Neither Harry nor Ginny seemed to be much involved in the church's activities, but they were very well known. Dudley found himself introduced to a lot of people. Unlike yesterday, when Harry had seemed ill at ease with all the attention he attracted, he seemed comfortable with it this morning. When Dudley whispered the question, Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I know the people here; it's not just because of Voldemort and stuff. Here, I'm mostly answering questions about the kids."
Dudley nodded. He understood that; he could talk all day about his kids easily.
As they walked home, James suddenly stopped, turned and walked down another street. "James," Harry called. "C'mon; we're going to the Burrow."
"I think they should see it," James said. Dudley recognized the sound in his voice; it was the same Harry would get when he'd finally dug in his heels and refused to move.
Harry and Ginny exchanged a look. "I think it'd be good," she said. "You don't have to come."
Harry's sigh sounded as if it came from beneath the sidewalk. "No, you're right and I'll come."
They were walking through the main square, right toward a war memorial. Then, Daphne gasped. "Daddy, did you see that?"
Dudley looked over at Sophie, who shook her head. Apparently, you had to be magical to see the whatever-it-was that James wanted them to see. Before he could say anything, Daphne grabbed his hand to pull him towards it. With a shock, Dudley watched the memorial change into a statue, a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses who looked a lot like Harry, a pretty woman with long hair and a kind face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. The Wizarding world's war memorial, he supposed, or one of them. It left him with an ache in his throat; this would have been Harry's family before his parents had died, before he'd been given to the Dursleys, when he was still . . . He looked away.
Sophie had taken Tom's hand and was looking at the statue gravely, and Rich, Ginny's hand on his arm, just looked uncomfortable. After a few minutes, James looked at Dudley, solemn as only a teenager could manage. "I thought you lot needed to see it. We're going to the Burrow, which is great, but we should have had two sets of grandparents. They were heroes, and I sometimes think they get forgotten." Then he looked over at his father a little sheepishly. "Not you, Dad. I mean, in general."
"'S'okay," Harry said, his voice tight. "But we've seen it now. Let's go on."
The adults walked home slowly, but Harry's kids were racing. "What's so exciting about going to your grandparents?" Tom finally asked when Al tried to hurry him along for the fifth time.
"Don't you like going to yours?" Al asked, sounding incredulous. "Gran and Grandpa are great! And all the uncles'll be there, and aunts, and cousins. Is it true," he asked Ginny, bouncing, "that Uncle Charlie's going to be there?"
"That's what I've heard," Ginny answered, sounding amused.
"My parents are a bit older," Sophie said, explaining, "and Dudley's are, well--"
"Don't worry; I understand perfectly," Harry said. Unfortunately, Dudley knew he did.
Once home, Harry's kids raced upstairs to get changed; Dudley's had begun to pick up the excitement and were moving almost as quickly. "We'd better make it quick ourselves," Ginny said, laughing. "They'll bounce the house off its foundations if we make them wait too long."
All too quickly, they were ready to go. This was vastly different from going to Diagon Alley yesterday; Dudley could pretend it was one of those fairs where people dressed up as lords and ladies from long ago. It was also different from the year he and his parents had spent in hiding. There hadn't been any electricity, and those things they were used to using electricity for were done by magic, but they hadn't been doing anything flashy, anything "abnormal". And the fear of what might happen if they were found had drained all excitement from what was going on around them; it had been a horribly grim year.
Harry's in-laws, though, were used to using magic for everything and, when they were kids, at least, they'd used magic to play pranks and such. Dudley had admired the joke shop yesterday--it had clearly been a thriving, professionally-run business. He could still remember that candy, though, and that made him nervous.
They took another Floo trip to get to Ginny's family's home, the Burrow. As he came out the other side, spitting ashes again, Dudley asked, "I know they have cars in your world, Harry; they even fly. Why can't we take one of those?"
"That car!" a woman's voice snapped. "Fortunately it was confiscated, or I'd, I'd--"
"Hi, Mum," Harry said, laughing. "Dudley had never seen anything fly before, except airplanes. Speaking of which, this is my cousin, Dudley Dursley, his wife, Sophie, and their children, Rich, Daphne and Tom. And this is my mother-in-law, Molly Weasley."
Molly Weasley was a short, plump woman, with fading red hair, and a kind smile. "Welcome, we're so pleased you could come. Make yourselves at home; you can see we don't stand on ceremony here--"
"What ceremony are we not standing on now?" asked a man who had just walked in to the house. He was tall, with long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, a discreet earring, and horrible scars on his face.
"Any of them," Ginny said. "Hey, there, what did you bring?" Dudley hadn't noticed the dish and large pot Ginny had brought with her.
"Lamb," the man said, laughing. "What else?"
"Oh, you," Molly said, swatting at him. "This is my oldest, Bill. Everyone else is out back in the garden. Come on back. The younger ones can play Quidditch while we adults talk." She started to lead the way through the kitchen when she suddenly stopped. "Oh, no," she said, looking dismayed, "I don't know if broomsticks work for Muggles. Which of you two--?"
Dudley was proud of his oldest. Rich leaned over and hugged Molly, and said, "If I'd been meant to fly, I'd have wings. It sounds like fun to watch, but I like both my feet on the ground."
Molly hugged him back, and then held him out at arm's length. "And you're?"
"Rich," Rich answered.
"And a very sensible boy you are," she said. "Don't you worry, someone will explain all the rules to you." She put her arm around Rich and led them out into the garden.
Dudley looked around curiously. This was one of the two places Harry had looked forward to going when he was at school; the other was Hogwarts. Somehow, Dudley was expecting something grander, nicer than his parents' house. Even knowing how Harry had been treated, Dudley wouldn't have expected Harry to want to go to anyplace that wasn't as nice.
The reality was a slap in the face. There were signs that the house had been improved upon over the last several years, but it was an older home, and a bit on the shabby side. Clean, comfortable, inviting--it was all of those things, but his parents' house had been nicer. It was clear to Dudley that Harry had felt welcome here. To Dudley's shame, he suspected that Harry would have preferred a hovel, someplace filthy and horrible, if he were only made welcome. A lump formed in his throat as he was confronted with how he and his family had treated Harry when they were younger.
He'd stopped for too long; Molly had returned and put her hand on his arm. "Dudley? Are you all right?"
"Yeah," he said, hating the hoarseness in his voice. "It's kind of hard, realising what a prat I was." He looked at her, aware that his cheeks were red. "I'm glad you and your family took Harry in. We . . ." He couldn't continue.
Her lips pursed for a moment, but then she smiled. "It was our pleasure," she said warmly. "Harry was such a sweet boy. And we were all happy when he joined the family officially."
Dudley asked a question that had been worrying him. "Daphne. I don't want her . . . Harry seems to be so famous. If people know about us . . ."
Molly sighed. "Well, people do know about Harry's childhood, I'm afraid. That was one of the reasons he wanted Daphne to come here and get to know the other kids. He wanted to make sure that the Weasleys, at least, knew what kind of a person Daphne herself was, not what kind of people her grandparents are. Harry's never been one to judge a child based on his or her parents."
Wishing she'd turn that scrutiny elsewhere, Dudley dredged up a smile. "Just like I told Tom. He's a better person than we were. I've tried . . ."
"Well, it looks to me like you succeeded," she said. "They seem like such nice, well brought up youngsters."
"More Sophie's doing than mine," Dudley admitted.
"I doubt that." She smiled and took his arm. "Shall we go out and enjoy the sunshine?"
Once outside, Dudley felt more than a little overwhelmed. It felt as if there were as many people in the Weasley's back garden as there had been in Diagon Alley the day before. Today, however, more than half of the people had red hair, and they all knew one another. As they approached the group of adults sitting and watching the children play, Dudley noticed that all of the adults weren't there. "Where's Harry and Ginny?" he asked Sophie. She looked comfortable, as if she'd fitted right in. She probably had, Dudley knew; she had that knack.
"Harry and Ginny don't seem to be able to resist a call to Quidditch," Sophie told him. "At the moment it's parents against kids. The parents are winning, but I think that's because they're cheating."
"Hmph," said one of the men Dudley didn't think he'd ever met. He was as tall as the man from the kitchen, but his red hair was short, he wore spectacles, and even his casual clothes had a stuffy feel to them. "They're just better fliers than the children," he said, his voice prim and precise. "Experience tells. I'm Percy, by the way. Son Number Three. I think Bill said you met, sort of, in the kitchen." Bill was being given a scolding look; Dudley thought it was because he hadn't properly introduced himself. "He's the eldest of us. The other four, Charlie, George, Ron and Ginny are on brooms. And the ladies . . ."
"Relax a bit, would you, Percy?" laughed a familiar-looking woman. She had bushy brown hair, ink-stained fingers and kind brown eyes. "Since Percy's introduced the Weasleys, I'll do the spouses, shall I?" Not waiting for Percy to object, she said, "You know Ginny's husband, Harry, of course. I'm Ron's wife, Hermione. I think you saw me at King's Cross a few times; I was usually with Harry when your family picked him up." Dudley nodded; she was probably right. "George's wife is Angelina; she's playing Quidditch as well. Percy's wife is Audrey," a woman with rosy cheeks and a brown plait down her back nodded, "Charlie's not married and Bill's wife is Fleur, who's . . . Where did Fleur go?"
"Over 'ere, trying to bring order to ze food. Impossible task, I know." Fleur was an amazingly beautiful woman, with long silver hair and bright blue eyes. She was holding a little boy on her hip, who was babbling at her. "And you are Dudley, yes?" she asked, holding out her hand. Although Dudley shook it, he suspected she'd expected him to kiss it. "You 'ave ze misfortune of trying to remember all our names, while we only 'ave the few to remember. But don't worry; we're all used to it. Who is winning?"
"The parents, thanks heavens, or the kids would be insufferable." An older man walked over. Dudley definitely remembered him. Mr. Weasley, the man who'd blown up the fireplace, unshrunk his tongue and insisted that Dad had said good-bye to Harry that one year. The years had been good to him, if not to his hair; he was now completely bald. "Hallo, Dudley. Nice to meet you again. Now, which one is going to Hogwarts next year?"
"Our little girl," Dudley said, trying to pick her out from the gang of children. She clearly wasn't in the group of people on broomsticks. It took a minute, but he did finally spot her, in a group clustered around watching the match. "There, the little blonde."
Arthur looked for a few minutes and then smiled. "There she is. Pretty little thing, and it looks like she's fitting right in."
They settled into chairs and, within a surprisingly short amount of time, Dudley felt as he did at any get-together with good company. Although Dudley didn't know the Wizarding world's political issues, they sounded much the same as they did in his world. Today, however, was a day for discussing the children, and Hogwarts, and Quidditch. Children with scraped knees came begging for Mummy's kisses and a charm to stop the bleeding; other children came complaining about siblings, or cousins, or were a little confused as to which was which.
Sophie was in her element. Although the Weasley family was larger than her own, both families were large and close-knit. She'd settled in with Molly and Hermione for a good long chat about Harry's school days and war days. Dudley, on the other hand, found himself answering the weirdest questions he'd ever heard. Arthur and Percy had been having an argument about plugs and expected him to settle it. He did the best he could, but what he mostly knew about plugs was that you plugged them into the wall to get the whatever-it-is to work. Eventually, out of sheer desperation, he looked over at Sophie. "Soph, would you mind having Arthur, and Molly of course, over for an afternoon sometime soon? Maybe next weekend?"
"Not at all," Sophie answered, just as Molly said, "Arthur, stop pestering the poor man!"
"He's not pestering," Dudley said, defending Arthur. Dudley had come to the realisation that, regardless of how terrifying he had found the older man when he was a child, Arthur was the mildest and gentlest of men. "I just can't answer his questions, and I thought it might be easier to show him."
"Show who what?" Harry asked. Dudley hadn't noticed the Quidditch match ending. He looked up and realised that it hadn't; the teams had just changed. It now appeared to be Boys vs. Girls.
"Arthur about electricity and such," Dudley answered. "Who won your game? And who's going to win this one."
"We won, of course," answered another man. Not as tall as Arthur or Bill, missing an ear, and a face Dudley still sometimes had nightmares about. "As for that one, it'll be the girls."
"Good luck, Dudley," Hermione said, laughing and shaking her head. "My parents have tried at least a dozen times; it never quite seems to take." She stood and kissed Arthur on the cheek. "I haven't seen Hugo for a bit; think I'd better check on him."
Harry plopped down into her chair. "Enjoying yourselves? Your kids sure are. Rich is learning Exploding Snap and Daphne's begging for a try on a broom. Hope you don't mind; it's better she start with some adult supervision or she'll be sneaking it."
"Er, Exploding Snap won't hurt him or anything, right?" Dudley asked, visions of Aunt Marge in his head.
Harry grinned. "Only his eyebrows."
Sophie leaned over. "You killed a basilisk? At twelve? And nearly died? Where were the teachers?"
Looking as if he were about to face a firing squad, Harry asked, "Mum, what have you been telling her?"
"All the times you've saved our family," Molly answered. "Directly, that is. And about helping you onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters your first year."
Harry smiled fondly. "Yeah, that was brilliant. And Ron and I shared a compartment. We were best friends by lunchtime."
"Only because you shared your candy with him," Hermione said, returning with a dirty, squirming, little boy. "I'll be back as soon as I sort this one out."
"So, he saved Ginny's life her first year, Arthur's his fifth, Ron's his sixth--" Molly continued, to Harry's evident discomfort.
"Don't forget his giving us the money to start our shop," said the earless man, whose name Dudley couldn't remember and wouldn't ask, thumping Harry so hard on the back he fell out of his chair.
When Harry got up from the ground, his face was bright red. "Let's talk about Charlie, yeah?" he said, sounding tired. "He's not here, and his life is a lot more interesting than mine."
Molly took mercy on Harry and switched the subject, although she gave Sophie a wink that Dudley thought meant they'd be continuing the subject later, out of Harry's earshot.
When the sun set, Dudley caught Harry's eye. He smiled and nodded and began gathering his family together. Dudley went looking for his kids. He found Rich and James together, as they'd been for most of the weekend. At the moment they appeared to be seeing which of them could do a better job of grossing out the girls. Daphne was in the midst of a group of girls, exchanging addresses, recommended books, and packing tips.
Tom was the hardest to find. After nearly twenty minutes of searching, Dudley found him at least thirty feet in the air at the top of a tree that Dudley didn't think he could climb. "Tom! Stay there; I'll get help!"
"Don't worry, Dad," Tom called down and appeared to fall out of the tree. Dudley screamed and went running to try to catch his youngest son when he realised the boy wasn't falling, but flying. On a broom!
Once Tom landed, as neatly as if he'd been doing it all his life, Dudley noted distantly, Dudley grabbed his son's ear and dragged him back towards the house. "And if you think I'm ever buying you a broom, you have another think coming, young man!" he shouted.
"What did he do?" Molly asked, looking worried.
"He was in the top of that tree!" Dudley said, pointing to it. "Nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Flew up, eh?" Molly asked, her face growing stern. "Was anyone with you?"
As he hadn't when Dudley had been scolding him, Tom's body slumped in shame. "No, ma'am."
"Well, then," Molly said, "the next time you come to visit, the first thing you do will be to thoroughly de-gnome the garden; do you understand me, young man?"
Tom nodded and slunk away. Once his back was turned, Molly gave Dudley a wink. "Every one of mine have wound up in that tree. Ginny used to practically live in it. Sorry he gave you such a turn; I usually keep an eye on it."
"I don't think Tom will be doing that again," Sophie said, as she walked up with all three children. Harry, Ginny and their three were right behind her. "Molly, thank you all for inviting us. It's been a wonderful day."
The children all nodded and added their thanks. They Flooed back to Harry's, who set up a Portkey to take them home.
As Dudley collapsed into bed that night, the foremost thought in his head was that he'd been a fool to reject Harry when they were kids. He could have had such fun!
Author’s Note: This will be a full "year at Hogwarts" story. Updates will come as often as RL, my time and energy levels will allow—probably more slowly than I would like.
Author:
humantalesRating: PG13
Summary: After twenty years of happy normalcy, Dudley sees another letter from Hogwarts. This one is addressed to his daughter.
Author’s Note: Many thanks to MuggleProf for her beta job.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
July 7, 2018
Meals seemed pretty normal, as long as you didn't watch the washing up too closely. But now they were going to this Diagon Alley, by way of the Floo. Dudley's tension had skyrocketed as soon as that was mentioned, so Sophie thought it was likely something he'd seen when he was growing up. Something that had gone wrong and no one had explained it to him. When she finally got to discuss this with her in-laws, Sophie would have a few things to say to them.
What really worried her was this war. Both Harry and Ginny had insisted that it was over, that there were no remnants of it being fought. Judging from the fact that the children treated it as boring, something to sleep through in history class, Sophie thought that was probably the truth, but it was also obvious that it still affected Harry. She planned on checking out the history section at the bookstore; surely there would be something there.
Breakfast was much like breakfast in her own household, but with owls to bring the post and a magical scrub brush to clean the dishes. The breakfast conversation was a comparison of magical scrub-brushes and dishwashers; the two women concluded that they were pretty even, all things considered.
While helping Ginny to brush everyone clean after they stepped out of the Floo, Sophie wondered if the efficiency and non-existent travel time was worth the soot and falls associated with magical travel. Watching Harry complain as he fell out of the fireplace on the other end made her wonder why they didn't just drive.
The entrance to Diagon Alley turned out to be behind the Leaky Cauldron. Someone magical had to open it; Dudley and Sophie would never be able to go there on their own. Harry tapped a couple of the bricks and the wall opened up onto the alley.
The rest of the morning turned into a blur for Sophie. Harry and Ginny were clearly old hands and moved them along quickly and efficiently. It took a bit for Sophie to realise the main reason they were doing so; whenever they stopped for more than a minute, people began coming up to Harry, shaking his hand, and thanking him for everything he'd done. What he'd done was never explicitly stated, although one old man thanked him for "making our world safe for my grandchildren". It made Sophie wonder. Until now, considering how little Dudley knew, she'd assumed that Harry had been part of the fight, but no more important than would be expected for a teenager. As she watched the people watch Harry, even when they didn't approach him, and the practiced way he greeted and thanked them, Sophie began to think that whatever it was that Harry had done was a little more than simply fighting in their war.
Their second to last stop was the bookstore. While the others went looking for the necessary schoolbooks, Sophie went for the history books. To her surprise, not only were there quite a few about the war, but there were several specifically about Harry. She pulled out the two general books that looked to be the most complete and tried to decide which of the biographies she should get. As she was trying to determine which was the best from the front flap material, a man walked up to her and asked, "Need some help?"
Sophie looked up, a bit startled; she hadn't heard him. He was about her age, tall and slender with pale blond hair, grey eyes and a pointed chin. "Just trying to decide which of these to buy. Do you have any suggestions? And you are?"
"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm Draco Malfoy. And I'm probably not the best person to ask for the best biography of the Boy Who Lived, Ms.--?"
"Sophie Dursley," she said, holding out her hand to shake. "I was looking for some information on Harry Potter. Is he really called the Boy Who Lived?"
"Only in the newspapers. Malfoy," Harry said, walking up behind her. He looked at the books she was browsing and winced. "This is the best of the histories," he said with a sigh, handing one of the history books she'd chosen, "and I'd go with this one to supplement it." He pulled another book off the shelf that Sophie had discarded as she hadn't been able to determine what it was about. "And I promise you, Daphne will be perfectly safe; the war is over."
Before Sophie could say anything, Mr. Malfoy said, "It sounds as if Mrs. Dursley would like to make sure of that herself. Daphne is your daughter?" he asked Sophie. "I had a Daphne Dursley on my list of Muggleborn first years, but she was crossed off."
"Dudley is my cousin," Harry said, his voice tight. "He was more comfortable having me explain things than a total stranger."
"Of course," Mr. Malfoy drawled. "I've compiled a reading list for first year Muggleborns and their parents; it's designed to help explain the Wizarding world and allow the children to fit in better once they begin attending Hogwarts. May I send it to you?"
"Yes," Sophie said, wishing that one of them would step away. The tension between the two men was giving her a headache.
"May I ask why you've compiled the list? You don't know anything about Muggles or what they do and don't know." Harry was glaring at the other man.
"I know more than you might think," Mr. Malfoy said. His posture was relaxed but his voice was almost as tight as Harry's. "I've been helping Muggleborns get used to the Wizarding world since I was eighteen. Oh, and I would recommend this one for the biography. It's on the reading list." He pointed to one of the books she'd been looking at, The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Defeater of Voldemort: And All Without His NEWTs. He turned and walked away.
Once he was out of sight, Harry sighed heavily. Then he looked at Sophie with a rueful smile. "Sorry about that. We hated each other in school and I've hardly seen him at all since then. You know, I'll answer any questions you have; really, I will."
"Yes," Sophie said, although she had her doubts, "but I don't know what questions to ask. Dudley might have a better idea, but--"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, but it's all tied up with all the stuff we're carefully not discussing. Dudley now's not a bad bloke. I can see spending a pleasant evening in a pub with him. Back then, well, his favourite game was Harry Hunting. It makes some discussions tough."
"So, I'll read this book and then I'll know what questions to ask," Sophie said. "Do people really call you these things?"
With a sigh, Harry shrugged. "Not so much any more. Twenty years ago, well, even then it was mostly the newspapers. As for why I was in the newspapers . . . Merlin, I hate talking about this stuff. It makes me sound so, so, arrogant. Why does anybody care?"
"There you are!" Ginny said, turning a corner behind Harry. "What happened? You two look like something happened."
"Malfoy," Harry said. "And Sophie's looking for a little light reading." He suddenly turned to Sophie. "Are you related to the Grangers?"
The non sequitor surprised Sophie. "Who?"
"One of my sisters-in-law," Ginny said absently. "What kind of books were you looking at?" Then she saw the books Sophie was holding. "Oh. Tomorrow, ask my mother about Harry. She'll tell you everything you could possibly want to know and then some. Come on; the kids are dying to get to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."
Ginny's brothers' shop was everything a teen or preteen could want in a joke shop. It was bright, loud and filled with jokes that were, as a friend had once put it, "rude, crude and socially unacceptable". Rich was frustrated that he wouldn't be able to show most of the jokes to his friends since they relied on magic; Sophie made herself a note to check his bags when they got home in case of smuggling. Then she realised she'd have to check all three of the kids. And maybe Dudley as well.
As they sat at an ice cream parlour once they'd finished their shopping, Sophie looked at her family. Daphne's eyes were bright and she was chattering away to anyone who would listen to her. She'd pulled out her wand and was waving it around, despite the lectures on wand safety that both Harry and Ginny had given her. Other people noticing her smiled; they seemed to be both amused and nostalgic. Tom was chattering at Albus at a million miles a minute; Albus was being kind enough to allow it. Rich and James were quiet and seemed to be casually checking out the pretty girls. Casually for young teens, anyway.
Sophie leaned over to Dudley. "They all look happy, don't they?"
He nodded, his eyes still a little shadowed. "I was talking to the lady at the book shop; she said there was to be a Hogwarts tour for all the first years and their families in two weeks. I signed us up. I, I can't just let her go without--"
Harry leaned over. "What's this about a tour?"
"Yeah, they were saying at Flourish and Blott's that they were trying to ease the first years in a bit more than is traditional," Ginny said, leaning over. "There's a tour, a shopping day at Diagon Alley, and maybe even a Quidditch match, although that's still open. Some of the old biddies are complaining about how 'It's not traditional,' but I think it's great. Especially for the Muggleborns. Hermione still complains about how scary it was to start without knowing anything."
"Hermione knew plenty," Harry said with a laugh. "She'd memorised all her textbooks and was working on Hogwarts: A History by the time we got on the Hogwarts Express."
Daphne's eyes were huge. "Really. Should I start on mine?"
"I don't believe that," said Sophie as Harry said, "Absolutely not." When Sophie indicated he should continue, Harry said, "Hermione did that for her own peace of mind. I'd skimmed a few of mine, but I hardly knew anything when I started. And you'll get yourself a reputation if you do memorise them."
"It didn't hurt Hermione any," Ginny said.
"I'm not so sure about that," Harry argued. "If it hadn't been for the troll--"
"There's trolls?" Daphne asked, looking enraptured. "Are they nice?"
"No," Harry said. "Fortunately, you very, very rarely see them around people. This one had been lured there to be a distraction. We got very lucky."
"No trolls. Got it," Daphne said, a smile back on her face. "And I don't have to memorise the books, but reading them over's a good idea. Right?"
"Right," Ginny said, standing up. "Why don't we head back to the house and relax for the rest of the evening?"
Everyone seemed agreeable to that idea. Once home, the two girls set themselves up on the living room floor. Daphne was reading her new textbooks and Lily was reading Daphne's fantasy novels. The boys went upstairs, from which bangs and thumps came for the rest of the day. "We have a ward that lets us know if they've done anything dangerous or destructive," Ginny told Sophie when she was starting to go up to check on them after one particularly long bang followed by silence. "Mum gave it to me when I was carrying James. We've found they cause less trouble when we don't look over their shoulders. Harry'll go up for something in a few minutes and look in on them then."
"Hell with that," said Harry. "It sounds like they're having fun; I'm going to go up and join them. How about you, Dudley?"
Once they'd straightened up a bit, Ginny indicated the girls. "Shall we join them?" Sophie was agreeable; she wanted to know what questions to ask.
Sophie read the biography first. She started off writing notes as she read, but it wasn't too long before she was just reading. It was gripping reading, if you could forget that the child she was reading about was real. She finished late in the afternoon and put the book aside.
She'd been so absorbed that she hadn't noticed that the girls had left and that Harry was now sitting in the "Dad" chair. He was glancing through some papers, but looked up at her when she put the book down. "What did you think?"
Sophie had no idea how to respond to his wry question. "How can you be so normal?" was what came out, to her dismay.
Fortunately, Harry chuckled. "It's down to frame of reference," he said, settling back. "Reading it like that, as an adult, knowing what's normal for most kids, it probably does sound pretty horrible. I haven't read it, by the way; I've not read any of the biographies. It feels weird, reading about myself that way. Anyway, it was just my life. Kids don't get a choice in who raises them and how and," Harry paused, seeming to struggle for words. "People also go on about what a hero I was, but I never saw any real alternatives. Not without changing who I was, who I am. Even--" Harry shook his head. "Sometimes it was hard, but it was the right thing to do. So I did it."
Sophie stared at him. Some of the things he'd done were truly heroic, difficult decisions that most people could never make, and this pleasant, unassuming man said it was just what he had to do? She couldn't get her head around it. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but not that Dudley's cousin, who didn't get along with his parents and never came to family gatherings, was one of the two, maybe three, key figures in a war. And, now, his life felt unnaturally normal. That actually made sense to her; after the events of his childhood, she could see how he would want a "normal" life.
"Daphne's going to have problems at Hogwarts, isn't she?" she finally asked. "It's pretty clear that people know how Dudley and his parents treated you."
"We're working on that," Harry said with a shrug. "I've been talking to everyone at work, as has Ginny, about what a nice guy Dudley grew up into. Once they meet him, Ron and Hermione will work on that, too."
"They're pretty protective of you, huh?" Sophie asked. It was clear from her reading that the relationship between Harry, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger was unusually tight. She wondered idly if Hermione Granger and Ginny's sister-in-law were the same person; it seemed possible.
"You have no idea," Harry said, chuckling. "Then, I sat James and Al down and explained things: both what happened when Dud and I were kids and what's going on now. They've been charged with keeping an eye on her and treating her just as they would a little sister. They'll probably tease her unmercifully, but they'll keep anyone else from doing so. And again, after tomorrow, the rest of the Weasleys should be doing the same thing. I'm kind of hoping she gets sorted into Gryffindor. The Head, Neville Longbottom, is a good friend of mine; I know he'll keep an eye on her." Harry was smiling fondly when he said, "Well, he would anyway, but he can do a better job if she's in his House. We'll keep her safe; I promise."
"From you, that means something," Sophie said, still having trouble reconciling the man she was getting to know with the one in the book. He seemed too . . . happy. That realisation crystallised what she was feeling. "How were you able to keep going, to not, I don't know, demand the world from everyone?"
Harry grinned. "I already had what was most important to me. And, because I never tried for it, I also had as much power, as much wealth, and more fame than I ever wanted. I'm perfectly happy not living on a grand scale. Now," he asked as he stood, "how does some food sound? Ginny's throwing a couple of salads together, and Dudley's burning some meat on the grill."
Sophie grinned. Dudley was nearly a gourmet cook as long as it involved the grill. "Sounds good."
July 8, 2018
Dudley woke Sunday morning to Sophie shaking his shoulder. "Wha'?" he mumbled, burrowing more deeply into the bed.
"Get up!" his wife said, sternly. "You need to get up and get moving or we'll miss church."
"Harry never went to church," Dudley grumbled as he disentangled himself from the covers.
"Your parents never went to church," Sophie said, getting dressed now that she was sure Dudley was getting up. "It doesn't matter; we're all going this morning."
"Good thing we brought nice clothes," Dudley said, fumbling his dressing gown on to go and shave.
"Yes, it's a good thing I know how to pack. Now, get moving."
Breakfast wasn't as rushed as Dudley had expected from Sophie's rushing; apparently, she'd given him plenty of time. To Dudley's surprise, Harry made it. "Wouldn't have thought you'd ever cook after . . ." he muttered.
Harry grinned at him. "Knowing I can eat as much as I want, and snitch bits as I'm cooking, makes all the difference. I enjoy cooking these days."
Ginny snitched a piece of bacon, for which Harry smacked her hand. He then apologized with a kiss. "Get a room!" their eldest, James, yelled.
Harry stuck out his tongue. "I got the house, so there!"
Ginny smacked his bum. "Behave yourself!"
The light-hearted banter continued as they left the house. "The church is just a little ways away," Harry told him. "We always walk unless the weather's really bad."
"Plus this way we don't put the whole town at risk of Harry's driving," Ginny said, laughing.
"I'm not that bad," Harry said.
Dudley sidled up to him. "Is this a . . . one of our churches or one of yours?"
Shaking his head, Harry said with a laugh, "There's really no difference, but there's both Muggles and wizards in the congregation, so magic never gets mentioned. Don't worry; you'll be fine."
To Dudley's relief, Harry was right. The service was just like the one at home. Neither Harry nor Ginny seemed to be much involved in the church's activities, but they were very well known. Dudley found himself introduced to a lot of people. Unlike yesterday, when Harry had seemed ill at ease with all the attention he attracted, he seemed comfortable with it this morning. When Dudley whispered the question, Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I know the people here; it's not just because of Voldemort and stuff. Here, I'm mostly answering questions about the kids."
Dudley nodded. He understood that; he could talk all day about his kids easily.
As they walked home, James suddenly stopped, turned and walked down another street. "James," Harry called. "C'mon; we're going to the Burrow."
"I think they should see it," James said. Dudley recognized the sound in his voice; it was the same Harry would get when he'd finally dug in his heels and refused to move.
Harry and Ginny exchanged a look. "I think it'd be good," she said. "You don't have to come."
Harry's sigh sounded as if it came from beneath the sidewalk. "No, you're right and I'll come."
They were walking through the main square, right toward a war memorial. Then, Daphne gasped. "Daddy, did you see that?"
Dudley looked over at Sophie, who shook her head. Apparently, you had to be magical to see the whatever-it-was that James wanted them to see. Before he could say anything, Daphne grabbed his hand to pull him towards it. With a shock, Dudley watched the memorial change into a statue, a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses who looked a lot like Harry, a pretty woman with long hair and a kind face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. The Wizarding world's war memorial, he supposed, or one of them. It left him with an ache in his throat; this would have been Harry's family before his parents had died, before he'd been given to the Dursleys, when he was still . . . He looked away.
Sophie had taken Tom's hand and was looking at the statue gravely, and Rich, Ginny's hand on his arm, just looked uncomfortable. After a few minutes, James looked at Dudley, solemn as only a teenager could manage. "I thought you lot needed to see it. We're going to the Burrow, which is great, but we should have had two sets of grandparents. They were heroes, and I sometimes think they get forgotten." Then he looked over at his father a little sheepishly. "Not you, Dad. I mean, in general."
"'S'okay," Harry said, his voice tight. "But we've seen it now. Let's go on."
The adults walked home slowly, but Harry's kids were racing. "What's so exciting about going to your grandparents?" Tom finally asked when Al tried to hurry him along for the fifth time.
"Don't you like going to yours?" Al asked, sounding incredulous. "Gran and Grandpa are great! And all the uncles'll be there, and aunts, and cousins. Is it true," he asked Ginny, bouncing, "that Uncle Charlie's going to be there?"
"That's what I've heard," Ginny answered, sounding amused.
"My parents are a bit older," Sophie said, explaining, "and Dudley's are, well--"
"Don't worry; I understand perfectly," Harry said. Unfortunately, Dudley knew he did.
Once home, Harry's kids raced upstairs to get changed; Dudley's had begun to pick up the excitement and were moving almost as quickly. "We'd better make it quick ourselves," Ginny said, laughing. "They'll bounce the house off its foundations if we make them wait too long."
All too quickly, they were ready to go. This was vastly different from going to Diagon Alley yesterday; Dudley could pretend it was one of those fairs where people dressed up as lords and ladies from long ago. It was also different from the year he and his parents had spent in hiding. There hadn't been any electricity, and those things they were used to using electricity for were done by magic, but they hadn't been doing anything flashy, anything "abnormal". And the fear of what might happen if they were found had drained all excitement from what was going on around them; it had been a horribly grim year.
Harry's in-laws, though, were used to using magic for everything and, when they were kids, at least, they'd used magic to play pranks and such. Dudley had admired the joke shop yesterday--it had clearly been a thriving, professionally-run business. He could still remember that candy, though, and that made him nervous.
They took another Floo trip to get to Ginny's family's home, the Burrow. As he came out the other side, spitting ashes again, Dudley asked, "I know they have cars in your world, Harry; they even fly. Why can't we take one of those?"
"That car!" a woman's voice snapped. "Fortunately it was confiscated, or I'd, I'd--"
"Hi, Mum," Harry said, laughing. "Dudley had never seen anything fly before, except airplanes. Speaking of which, this is my cousin, Dudley Dursley, his wife, Sophie, and their children, Rich, Daphne and Tom. And this is my mother-in-law, Molly Weasley."
Molly Weasley was a short, plump woman, with fading red hair, and a kind smile. "Welcome, we're so pleased you could come. Make yourselves at home; you can see we don't stand on ceremony here--"
"What ceremony are we not standing on now?" asked a man who had just walked in to the house. He was tall, with long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, a discreet earring, and horrible scars on his face.
"Any of them," Ginny said. "Hey, there, what did you bring?" Dudley hadn't noticed the dish and large pot Ginny had brought with her.
"Lamb," the man said, laughing. "What else?"
"Oh, you," Molly said, swatting at him. "This is my oldest, Bill. Everyone else is out back in the garden. Come on back. The younger ones can play Quidditch while we adults talk." She started to lead the way through the kitchen when she suddenly stopped. "Oh, no," she said, looking dismayed, "I don't know if broomsticks work for Muggles. Which of you two--?"
Dudley was proud of his oldest. Rich leaned over and hugged Molly, and said, "If I'd been meant to fly, I'd have wings. It sounds like fun to watch, but I like both my feet on the ground."
Molly hugged him back, and then held him out at arm's length. "And you're?"
"Rich," Rich answered.
"And a very sensible boy you are," she said. "Don't you worry, someone will explain all the rules to you." She put her arm around Rich and led them out into the garden.
Dudley looked around curiously. This was one of the two places Harry had looked forward to going when he was at school; the other was Hogwarts. Somehow, Dudley was expecting something grander, nicer than his parents' house. Even knowing how Harry had been treated, Dudley wouldn't have expected Harry to want to go to anyplace that wasn't as nice.
The reality was a slap in the face. There were signs that the house had been improved upon over the last several years, but it was an older home, and a bit on the shabby side. Clean, comfortable, inviting--it was all of those things, but his parents' house had been nicer. It was clear to Dudley that Harry had felt welcome here. To Dudley's shame, he suspected that Harry would have preferred a hovel, someplace filthy and horrible, if he were only made welcome. A lump formed in his throat as he was confronted with how he and his family had treated Harry when they were younger.
He'd stopped for too long; Molly had returned and put her hand on his arm. "Dudley? Are you all right?"
"Yeah," he said, hating the hoarseness in his voice. "It's kind of hard, realising what a prat I was." He looked at her, aware that his cheeks were red. "I'm glad you and your family took Harry in. We . . ." He couldn't continue.
Her lips pursed for a moment, but then she smiled. "It was our pleasure," she said warmly. "Harry was such a sweet boy. And we were all happy when he joined the family officially."
Dudley asked a question that had been worrying him. "Daphne. I don't want her . . . Harry seems to be so famous. If people know about us . . ."
Molly sighed. "Well, people do know about Harry's childhood, I'm afraid. That was one of the reasons he wanted Daphne to come here and get to know the other kids. He wanted to make sure that the Weasleys, at least, knew what kind of a person Daphne herself was, not what kind of people her grandparents are. Harry's never been one to judge a child based on his or her parents."
Wishing she'd turn that scrutiny elsewhere, Dudley dredged up a smile. "Just like I told Tom. He's a better person than we were. I've tried . . ."
"Well, it looks to me like you succeeded," she said. "They seem like such nice, well brought up youngsters."
"More Sophie's doing than mine," Dudley admitted.
"I doubt that." She smiled and took his arm. "Shall we go out and enjoy the sunshine?"
Once outside, Dudley felt more than a little overwhelmed. It felt as if there were as many people in the Weasley's back garden as there had been in Diagon Alley the day before. Today, however, more than half of the people had red hair, and they all knew one another. As they approached the group of adults sitting and watching the children play, Dudley noticed that all of the adults weren't there. "Where's Harry and Ginny?" he asked Sophie. She looked comfortable, as if she'd fitted right in. She probably had, Dudley knew; she had that knack.
"Harry and Ginny don't seem to be able to resist a call to Quidditch," Sophie told him. "At the moment it's parents against kids. The parents are winning, but I think that's because they're cheating."
"Hmph," said one of the men Dudley didn't think he'd ever met. He was as tall as the man from the kitchen, but his red hair was short, he wore spectacles, and even his casual clothes had a stuffy feel to them. "They're just better fliers than the children," he said, his voice prim and precise. "Experience tells. I'm Percy, by the way. Son Number Three. I think Bill said you met, sort of, in the kitchen." Bill was being given a scolding look; Dudley thought it was because he hadn't properly introduced himself. "He's the eldest of us. The other four, Charlie, George, Ron and Ginny are on brooms. And the ladies . . ."
"Relax a bit, would you, Percy?" laughed a familiar-looking woman. She had bushy brown hair, ink-stained fingers and kind brown eyes. "Since Percy's introduced the Weasleys, I'll do the spouses, shall I?" Not waiting for Percy to object, she said, "You know Ginny's husband, Harry, of course. I'm Ron's wife, Hermione. I think you saw me at King's Cross a few times; I was usually with Harry when your family picked him up." Dudley nodded; she was probably right. "George's wife is Angelina; she's playing Quidditch as well. Percy's wife is Audrey," a woman with rosy cheeks and a brown plait down her back nodded, "Charlie's not married and Bill's wife is Fleur, who's . . . Where did Fleur go?"
"Over 'ere, trying to bring order to ze food. Impossible task, I know." Fleur was an amazingly beautiful woman, with long silver hair and bright blue eyes. She was holding a little boy on her hip, who was babbling at her. "And you are Dudley, yes?" she asked, holding out her hand. Although Dudley shook it, he suspected she'd expected him to kiss it. "You 'ave ze misfortune of trying to remember all our names, while we only 'ave the few to remember. But don't worry; we're all used to it. Who is winning?"
"The parents, thanks heavens, or the kids would be insufferable." An older man walked over. Dudley definitely remembered him. Mr. Weasley, the man who'd blown up the fireplace, unshrunk his tongue and insisted that Dad had said good-bye to Harry that one year. The years had been good to him, if not to his hair; he was now completely bald. "Hallo, Dudley. Nice to meet you again. Now, which one is going to Hogwarts next year?"
"Our little girl," Dudley said, trying to pick her out from the gang of children. She clearly wasn't in the group of people on broomsticks. It took a minute, but he did finally spot her, in a group clustered around watching the match. "There, the little blonde."
Arthur looked for a few minutes and then smiled. "There she is. Pretty little thing, and it looks like she's fitting right in."
They settled into chairs and, within a surprisingly short amount of time, Dudley felt as he did at any get-together with good company. Although Dudley didn't know the Wizarding world's political issues, they sounded much the same as they did in his world. Today, however, was a day for discussing the children, and Hogwarts, and Quidditch. Children with scraped knees came begging for Mummy's kisses and a charm to stop the bleeding; other children came complaining about siblings, or cousins, or were a little confused as to which was which.
Sophie was in her element. Although the Weasley family was larger than her own, both families were large and close-knit. She'd settled in with Molly and Hermione for a good long chat about Harry's school days and war days. Dudley, on the other hand, found himself answering the weirdest questions he'd ever heard. Arthur and Percy had been having an argument about plugs and expected him to settle it. He did the best he could, but what he mostly knew about plugs was that you plugged them into the wall to get the whatever-it-is to work. Eventually, out of sheer desperation, he looked over at Sophie. "Soph, would you mind having Arthur, and Molly of course, over for an afternoon sometime soon? Maybe next weekend?"
"Not at all," Sophie answered, just as Molly said, "Arthur, stop pestering the poor man!"
"He's not pestering," Dudley said, defending Arthur. Dudley had come to the realisation that, regardless of how terrifying he had found the older man when he was a child, Arthur was the mildest and gentlest of men. "I just can't answer his questions, and I thought it might be easier to show him."
"Show who what?" Harry asked. Dudley hadn't noticed the Quidditch match ending. He looked up and realised that it hadn't; the teams had just changed. It now appeared to be Boys vs. Girls.
"Arthur about electricity and such," Dudley answered. "Who won your game? And who's going to win this one."
"We won, of course," answered another man. Not as tall as Arthur or Bill, missing an ear, and a face Dudley still sometimes had nightmares about. "As for that one, it'll be the girls."
"Good luck, Dudley," Hermione said, laughing and shaking her head. "My parents have tried at least a dozen times; it never quite seems to take." She stood and kissed Arthur on the cheek. "I haven't seen Hugo for a bit; think I'd better check on him."
Harry plopped down into her chair. "Enjoying yourselves? Your kids sure are. Rich is learning Exploding Snap and Daphne's begging for a try on a broom. Hope you don't mind; it's better she start with some adult supervision or she'll be sneaking it."
"Er, Exploding Snap won't hurt him or anything, right?" Dudley asked, visions of Aunt Marge in his head.
Harry grinned. "Only his eyebrows."
Sophie leaned over. "You killed a basilisk? At twelve? And nearly died? Where were the teachers?"
Looking as if he were about to face a firing squad, Harry asked, "Mum, what have you been telling her?"
"All the times you've saved our family," Molly answered. "Directly, that is. And about helping you onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters your first year."
Harry smiled fondly. "Yeah, that was brilliant. And Ron and I shared a compartment. We were best friends by lunchtime."
"Only because you shared your candy with him," Hermione said, returning with a dirty, squirming, little boy. "I'll be back as soon as I sort this one out."
"So, he saved Ginny's life her first year, Arthur's his fifth, Ron's his sixth--" Molly continued, to Harry's evident discomfort.
"Don't forget his giving us the money to start our shop," said the earless man, whose name Dudley couldn't remember and wouldn't ask, thumping Harry so hard on the back he fell out of his chair.
When Harry got up from the ground, his face was bright red. "Let's talk about Charlie, yeah?" he said, sounding tired. "He's not here, and his life is a lot more interesting than mine."
Molly took mercy on Harry and switched the subject, although she gave Sophie a wink that Dudley thought meant they'd be continuing the subject later, out of Harry's earshot.
When the sun set, Dudley caught Harry's eye. He smiled and nodded and began gathering his family together. Dudley went looking for his kids. He found Rich and James together, as they'd been for most of the weekend. At the moment they appeared to be seeing which of them could do a better job of grossing out the girls. Daphne was in the midst of a group of girls, exchanging addresses, recommended books, and packing tips.
Tom was the hardest to find. After nearly twenty minutes of searching, Dudley found him at least thirty feet in the air at the top of a tree that Dudley didn't think he could climb. "Tom! Stay there; I'll get help!"
"Don't worry, Dad," Tom called down and appeared to fall out of the tree. Dudley screamed and went running to try to catch his youngest son when he realised the boy wasn't falling, but flying. On a broom!
Once Tom landed, as neatly as if he'd been doing it all his life, Dudley noted distantly, Dudley grabbed his son's ear and dragged him back towards the house. "And if you think I'm ever buying you a broom, you have another think coming, young man!" he shouted.
"What did he do?" Molly asked, looking worried.
"He was in the top of that tree!" Dudley said, pointing to it. "Nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Flew up, eh?" Molly asked, her face growing stern. "Was anyone with you?"
As he hadn't when Dudley had been scolding him, Tom's body slumped in shame. "No, ma'am."
"Well, then," Molly said, "the next time you come to visit, the first thing you do will be to thoroughly de-gnome the garden; do you understand me, young man?"
Tom nodded and slunk away. Once his back was turned, Molly gave Dudley a wink. "Every one of mine have wound up in that tree. Ginny used to practically live in it. Sorry he gave you such a turn; I usually keep an eye on it."
"I don't think Tom will be doing that again," Sophie said, as she walked up with all three children. Harry, Ginny and their three were right behind her. "Molly, thank you all for inviting us. It's been a wonderful day."
The children all nodded and added their thanks. They Flooed back to Harry's, who set up a Portkey to take them home.
As Dudley collapsed into bed that night, the foremost thought in his head was that he'd been a fool to reject Harry when they were kids. He could have had such fun!
Author’s Note: This will be a full "year at Hogwarts" story. Updates will come as often as RL, my time and energy levels will allow—probably more slowly than I would like.
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Truely, well done! You pegged the OC's dead on and your OOC's are full and rich and multi-dimentional. The dialogue has great rhythm, the scenes flowed smoothly and the action brisk without being rushed or stilted.
I am eager to read more.
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