Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lily takes advantage of the red light to look in the rear mirror. Harry is sitting calmly on his child car seat, looking outside the window with interest.

‘Just a few more minutes, Harry’, she says and her son turns to her. ‘Do you remember what we've talked about?’

Harry nods as solemn as he can master at the age of six (almost seven, as he always remembers her). Lily feels her heart filling with love at the sight of him, looking so serious as if he hadn’t tried to run away last night for a midnight flight. He is too precious sometimes.

‘No magic on Grandpa and Grandma’s house’, Harry recites dutifully. ‘I will be polite and not talk too loud - no screaming also. I won’t ask for anything but if someone offers it I can accept it. And if I need to go to the bathroom I will ask for help. And…’, he frowns, remembering. ‘I will be nice’.

‘Don’t forget to have fun’, Lily adds with a smile, making Harry giggle.

That’s not something he needs to be remembered, she knows.

Harry is the most cheerful kid there is.

A few blocks away, she parks her car in front of her parent’s house. As she goes to unfasten Harry’s seat belt, she notices the shining new sports car in front of hers.

Oh, great.

She tries not to grimace, knowing Harry will be upset if he feels something is disturbing her. ‘Go take your bag’.

Harry picks his backpack, putting it on with Lily’s help.

‘You have your book?’, she asks, and he nods. ‘Good’, she whispers, more to herself.

As she walks up to her parent’s front porch, the door opens. Her mother beams at her, and Lily smiles back, even as she sees Petunia leaving the house too.

‘Oh’, Petunia says, her face closing. ‘I didn’t know you had another visit today, Mother’.

‘I’m just passing by, Petunia’, Lily says as amiable as she can. ‘Harry will stay here today’.

Harry nods excitedly, running to hug his grandmother.

‘Oh, how big you are!’, Rose Evans says, grinning at her youngest grandchild. ‘Go inside, I’ve made a cake for you and Dudley’.

Lily looks from her mother to Petunia.

‘Dudley is here today too?’

‘Both my grandchildren came to visit me’, Rose Evans says delightedly. ‘It must be Christmas’.

Lily avoids Petunia’s eyes now, both of them thinking of the last five Christmas and how they have an unspoken agreement of carefully avoiding meeting each other, something they’ve been so successful that her parents never noticed anything.

‘Maybe I can take Dudley with me during my errands’, Petunia says, grimacing.

‘Nonsense’, their mother answers, caressing Petunia’s arm gently. ‘I can watch both of them, and your dad will be home in a few’.

Petunia doesn’t seem very comfortable, but Lily knows she will not dare say anything in front of their mother.

‘I will just say goodbye to Diddykins’, she says, entering the house again.

Lily sighs.

‘Are you sure, Mum? If it’s too much -’

‘It will be fine, Lils’, her mother assures her fondly. 'I raised you two, didn't I?'

Lily thinks of how she and Petunia only exchange birthdays and Christmas cards and tries not to show any discomfort. It’s not like her gruesome relationship with her sister is her parent’s fault.

'And now I have one kid I appreciate you more and more, Mum', she says playfully, placing a kiss on her mother's cheek. 'I will be going then and I am back by five. Thank you so much again'.

Her mother nods dismissively, and Lily throws a last look inside the house.

Harry is already sitting on the carpet, taking his animal toys from his backpack and organising them on the coffee table there. Then she glances to the kitchen, where she can see only Petunia's blond hair as she talks to her son.

It will be alright, she tells herself. There is nothing to worry about.

She keeps telling herself as she goes on her errands - a job interview for a potion master position in St. Mungo's that takes all morning, then meeting Sirius for a quick lunch in downtown London and in the afternoon a walk through Diagon Alley to buy ingredients for her personal stock, stopping in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies to smile at a poster of James, looking dazzling in his Quidditch uniform, before meeting her friends for a drink on The Leaky Cauldron (butterbeer for her, because she is driving).

Her humour is pretty good when she parks her car once more in front of her parent's house.

'Lily!', her mother greets her, coming from the garden with Harry at her side. Harry seems unusually quiet, glancing briefly at her before looking back at his feet. 'Harry was helping me gardening - how was your day?'

'The interview was great', Lily replies distractedly, watching Harry. 'I will have a final one with the hospital director, though, next Friday, but I think I will get it'.

'I'm happy for you! Hear that, Harry?', her mother muffles Harry's hair fondly. 'One more day with us, what do you think?'

'I don't wanna bother you, Grandma', Harry answers politely.

'You never do, my dear boy', she assures him, and Harry gives a tentative smile. 'Are you sure you can't stay for dinner, Lily?'

'Maybe some other time, Mum. James will be expecting us’.

‘Invite him over too! I am sure you have your magical ways of talking to him’.

‘You shouldn’t talk about magic, Grandma’, Harry whispers in a low voice, making Lily and Rose laugh.

‘That’s okay, Harry, no one heard it’, Lily assures him. ‘Next time, Mum, I promise. Is Dad home?’

‘He is in the living room with Dudley’.

‘I will see him then. Are your things packed, Harry?’

Harry shakes his head, looking guilty, and he runs inside the house.

‘Was everything ok today?’, Lily asks her mother in a low voice.

‘Yes, yes, he is a sweet boy. He was just a little shy today’.

That makes Lily raises her eyebrows, but she doesn’t say anything as she enters the house. Her father greets her warmly, and while they talk she keeps looking around. Dudley is sitting on the couch, ignoring his aunt while he watches fixedly the television; Harry is kneeling on the floor, taking his toys and putting them carefully in his backpack, then he glances nervously at Dudley before going to the couch and taking one last toy from under it.

Lily frowns at this. This is not like Harry. As much as a mess he can make sometimes, his mess is strangely organized.

‘All set?’, she asks when Harry comes back at her side, holding his backpack that Lily takes for him. Harry nods. ‘Go say your goodbyes then’.

Harry runs to hug his grandfather, then he looks uncertainly at Dudley and waves to him, but Dudley doesn’t acknowledge him or Lily when she calls him.

She tries not to let that bother her.

Harry is biting his lips thoughtfully, seeming upset with Dudley’s disregard for him, and he bids farewell to his grandmother with considerably less enthusiasm.

‘Are you ok, Harry?’, Lily asks him in a whisper as they go to her car.

Harry just nods quietly. ‘You don’t want to stay here?’

‘I like it here!’, he replies instantly. ‘I love Grandma and Grandpa’.

That was not exactly what she asked him, but Lily lets it slide. Harry already sees his only living grandparents too little, she knows, though if she gets that job, he will spend most of his summer there. Maybe there is nothing to worry about.

But when she is fastening his seat belt, Harry looks at her, with his green eyes that are so like hers but much more innocent and he asks in a small voice:

‘Mum? Am I freak?’

The seatbelt slips of her hand.

‘What?’, she asks, more forceful than she intended to. ‘Who said that?’

Harry hesitates, watching her.

‘No one’, he says, but Lily can see through his lie easily. She forces herself to breathe evenly.

‘It’s okay, Harry, you can tell me’.

He bits his lips for a second.

‘Dudley told me he couldn’t play with me because I am a freak’.

He opens his eyes alarmed, and Lily knows Harry is seeing the anger flashing on her face. ‘I don’t wanna be a freak!’

‘You are not, Harry’, she assures him, holding his gaze. ‘I promise you. There is nothing wrong with you. Do you hear me?’

Harry nods gravely.

‘You are wonderful and if Petu - if Dudley doesn’t want to see it, just give him space. You should not be near anyone who doesn’t care for you. Don’t let him make you feel bad’.

He nods once more and Lily kisses him on the forehead. Harry smiles tentatively at her, and Lily finishes fastening his seatbelt. When she is almost starting the car, she sees another car light and then Petunia is parking her own car in front of hers.

Lily opens her door immediately.

‘Just a moment, Harry’, she says, but he is already distracted with his book.

Petunia is almost at the front porch when Lily catches her, grabbing her arm.

‘Oh! Don’t touch me!’

‘We can do this here in front of all the neighbours or we can go to the backyard’, Lily snarls, and, as she expected, Petunia stops fighting her, letting Lily take her to the side of the house.

That’s the thing about Petunia, she is so predictable that Lily should have known better. It’s the last time she will give her sister the benefit of doubt.

‘What’s your problem?’, Petunia asks in a hissed whisper.

‘My problem?’, Lily hisses back. ‘What’s your problem? What the hell are you doing calling my son a freak?’

Petunia blushes and doesn’t answer.

‘I get that you hate me, Petunia, and I gave up trying to fix our relationship a long time ago. But I won’t stand you insulting my son - the nephew who you don’t even know’.

‘You don’t know Dudley either’.

‘And whose fault is that?’

‘Yours! And your abnormality, yours and of that wastrel of your husband and -’

‘Don’t, Petunia’.

‘And your freaky son!’

Lily doesn’t really register what she is doing, but the next thing she knows there is a sharp sound, and her hand is burning; when she blinks, she sees her own hand raised and Petunia fallen on the ground, a dark red mark already shining on her pale face.

Her sister is breathing heavily when she raises.

‘I don’t want you or your spawn in my son’s life’, Petunia spits, looking at her venomously. ‘You already messed enough with my life’.

‘Oh, and how is that? It’s not my fault you are not a witch’.

‘Don’t say that word!’

‘Witch’, Lily replies, not bothering to keep her voice low now. ‘I am a witch and I’m proud of it – and you know what? I hope Dudley is a wizard’.

Petunia recoils more than when Lily slapped her.

‘He would never –‘

‘Magic is in our family’s blood’, Lily says, her eyes sparkling with fury and spite. ‘He could be one – and you know what’s the difference between us? As much as I despise you, if he is a wizard, I would welcome him’.

She doesn’t need to ask if Petunia would do the same for Harry. He could have no magic and it would not matter.

Petunia would never see him as anything more than the child of a sister she can’t stand.

‘If you ever insult my son again, I will hocus pocus you’.

It doesn’t mean anything, but Petunia doesn’t know that – she could have known, though, if she ever tried to hear when Lily would talk about her classes with their parents -, so, as Lily wanted, Petunia looks shocked and fearful, turning on her heels and walking away.

Lily is still breathing heavily when she returns to the car. Harry has closed the book now, and he looks curiously at her.

‘Are you ok, Mama?’

She looks at him through the rear mirror.

‘I will be’, she assures him, letting Harry’s smile warm her.

With his mother’s new job, Harry sees more and more of his grandparents during summer, before school starts again. He loves staying there, and how Grandma and Grandpa are nice too him, explaining everything he asks and showing him muggle things. He especially loves watching cartoons and movies, which he can’t do at his own home because they have no television.

That’s why he doesn’t like it much when Dudley is around.

He comes mostly twice a week, in August, and usually, Dudley ignores him. But his cousin always gets the remote control of the tv, and no matter how much Harry asks him to change to his favourite cartoon in the morning, Dudley doesn’t listen to him. After a while, Harry just gives up – maybe this is really important for Dudley, even though Harry doesn’t understand what is funny in the programs Dudley likes to watch.

He could play with his animal figures, but ever since Dudley pushed one to below the couch claiming they were stupid, Harry doesn’t trust him near his toy. But he has his books, so he sits on another couch reading them quietly, losing himself in Narnia and Wonderland and Neverland.

‘What are you doing?’, Dudley once asks him, after Harry lets out a giggle in one of his favourite parts.

‘Reading’.

‘My father says reading is a loss of time’, Dudley says pompously, looking at Harry with disdain, but Harry just shrugs. He likes to lose time reading.

‘My dad says reading takes you to other places. Like travelling without moving’.

‘That’s stupid’, Dudley declares.

‘No, it’s not. There are whole worlds in these pages!’, Harry insists. He opens the first page of his book and sits next to Dudley. ‘Here, read this’.

‘I –‘, Dudley looks nervously at the book. ‘I can’t – I don’t want to read’.

‘I can read for you if you like. Mum likes to read for me’.

‘I am not a baby! I don’t need a bedtime story!’.

Harry sighs.

‘Fine, I will just read aloud for myself’, he says, with a grimace, and ignoring Dudley he accommodates himself better on the couch, pointing with his finger to help him don’t lose the line. ‘ This is a story about something that happened long ago when your grandfather was a child… ’

Harry is not very good at reading aloud (he stumbles upon some words), but Dudley doesn’t mock him. At first, Harry doesn’t even think he is listening, but after a moment he sees his cousin quietly turning off the television and accomodating himself closer to Harry.

‘What’s the problem with Uncle Andrew?’, Dudley asks, when Harry stops reading after Grandma calls them for lunch.

‘You have to keep reading to find out’.

‘Tell me now!’

Harry is not impressed.

‘You will only know if you read –‘

‘If you don’t tell me I will –‘

‘If you keep yelling I won’t read’.

Dudley's face gets very red and he looks on the verge of screaming, but he doesn’t complain anymore. His face is all wrinkled, evidently annoyed, and for once he doesn’t seem to be hungry. He keeps stealing glances in Harry’s direction and, as soon as Harry finishes eating, he stands up.

‘Come on!’.

Harry looks at his grandmother, who seems a little confused, but she nods to allow him to leave the table.

They stay in the living room all day, and Harry’s throat is hurting when he finally finishes reading the first chapter of the book.

Dudley looks revolted at him.

‘You can’t stop now! ’

‘My mum will be here soon’, he says. ‘And Dad always tells me to stop at the end of a chapter, or you don’t remember where you stopped to begin again'.

‘But Polly has just vanished!’

‘We can continue tomorrow’, Harry promises. ‘Or you can keep the book if you want to read more’.

Dudley blushes.

‘No, I can wait for you, I suppose’.

‘Are you sure? Aunt Petunia would read to you if –‘

‘I told you I’m not a baby’, Dudley cries, crossing his arms and looking away. Harry gives up trying to talk to him for the day.

As in the other days of that week that they’ve met, Dudley doesn’t say anything when he waves him goodbye, but there is a tiny nod that makes Harry smile.

They take two weeks to finish the book, advancing a lot when Grandpa realizes what Harry is doing and takes the book to read for them (he reads a lot faster and Harry’s voice is too rusty at this point). Harry notices that instead of coming only twice, Dudley is at their grandparent’s house every day now, but no one explains anything to him and he just lets the thought slide. It’s been fun reading the book with Dudley, especially because Dudley laughs and complains at all the right parts, just like Harry did the first time he read that book.

His mum arrives early on the day when they are finishing the penultimate chapter, and though Harry always likes this part with the apple (and how it’s important to always do the right thing, no matter the temptation), he can’t help but hear his mum talking with Grandma in the kitchen.

‘How’s work, darling?’

‘Good, we are advancing on a very important potion - what’s dad doing?’

‘Well, I should think it’s obvious’, Grandma chuckles. 'He is reading for them'.

‘But they are both listening? Harry already knows the story by heart’.

‘I don’t know how it started, but Harry was reading for Dudley, I think, and then your father decided to help them. They stay quiet all afternoon listening. It’s better than watching tv, at least’.

‘Yeah, it’s just… weird’.

‘What’s weird about it?’

His mum doesn’t answer.

The next day, when they finish the book, Dudley doesn't seem happy.

'Is that it?', he asks, upset, when Grandpa leaves them. 'But what happens to Narnia?'

'There are other books!', Harry says excitedly, going through his things until he takes out another book. 'Here, this the next one! We can read it next week. It's amazing, there are these four kids -'

'No', Dudley interrupts him, flushing. 'My school starts next week and my mother said I can't keep coming here. I screamed and I said I would throw up, but she said I have to go to school'.

Harry thinks Dudley's reaction is a little bit exaggerated, but he doesn't say anything. He thinks he will miss his cousin's company, even if he is excited about his own school in ten days.

'That's fine', he says instead, trying to be nice because Dudley seems really down. 'You will get books to read at school'.

Dudley mumbles something.

'What?'

'I don't read too well', he whispers, his face pink, looking at Harry as if daring him to mock him.

Harry just blinks.

'I didn't read well before too', he admits. 'Mum sat with me to help. Maybe Aunt Petunia can help you?'

Dudley doesn't seem very convinced.

'Or you can practice alone. It's ok to go slow, the more you read the faster you will become. It's like flying on -'

Harry stops himself, his face reddening at his slip.

'Flying?', Dudley asks, curious, but also in that demanding way of his.

'I shouldn't talk about it', Harry whispers, looking nervously around, but there is no adult near.

'About what?'

'Flying and… that stuff'.

'What stuff?'

Harry bits his lips, squirming, before whispering in the lowest voice he can manage: 'Magic' .

Dudley shivers and takes a step back, looking in deep conflict. After a while, his eyes fall to the book they just finished.

'That word ', he asks in a trembling voice, 'is it like in the book? Like in Narnia'.

'Not really', Harry whispers back, more excited, as he always feels when he is doing something he shouldn't be doing. 'It's a lot different, I mean, the witch there is bad. All witches I know are good. Like Mum'.

'Your mother is a…?', Dudley asks, in a rush, and Harry thinks it's funny the words he can't seem to pronounce.

'She is the greatest witch', he declares proudly. 'Dad is a wizard too. He flies! On a broom, I mean', he adds, when Dudley looks confused.

'Like on Halloween? With that pointy hat and old brooms?'

Harry laughs.

'No, they almost never use a hat, only old people do that. And it's not an old broom, it's a new one. Dad plays Quidditch'.

'Kwitch?'

'Quidditch', Harry replies slowly, watching Dudley repeating the word in a low voice, testing it. 'It's the best sport in the world, we play in fast broomsticks'.

'You play too?'

'Not now, Dad says I am too young to train with the balls, but I have a broom. It's a kid model yet, so it's not very fast', Harry rolls his eyes, showing all his indignation with the situation. 'But when I grow up, I will play'.

'Oh', Dudley is looking impressed. 

'Maybe you can come to my house someday', Harry offers with a smile. 'I can teach you how to fly'.

Dudley doesn't say anything, but he beams at Harry.

A while later, when his mum comes to take him home, Harry stops as he is packing his things.

'Here', he says, giving Dudley his copy of "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe".

Dudley hesitates a little before taking the book, and Harry feels suddenly nervous when he realizes everything he ever saw of Dudley is always brandy new.

'It’s an old copy', he admits hurriedly. 'But you can keep it if you don't mind, just for practice and then I can send you a new one for Christmas or -'

'No, it's fine', Dudley says, not looking at him, pressing the book firmly on his hand.

'You can tell me later what you think', Harry says brightly. 'It's my favourite, there is war and a faun and Peter, oh, you are going to love him, he is the greatest -'

'Harry', his mum calls him, and though her voice is light Harry thinks she looks stressed. There is a line of worry on her forehead. 'You are going to spoil the book'.

'Oh, sorry, Dudley', Harry asks, looking back at his cousin, who just shrugs.

'Let's go now?'

Harry nods, waving to Dudley (at some point in the last days Dudley started waving him back), and kissing his grandparents before he rushes to the car.

'Are you upset, Mum?', he asks when she is storing his things in the trunk of the car, and he sees his mum is not smiling. 'Because I gave him the book?'

'No, Harry, I thought it was very nice of you', she says, and despite the truth in her voice, Harry can still hear the heaviness there. 'I am just worried'.

'Why?'

'Sometimes we love people who can't love us back', she says sadly. Harry doesn't understand what she means, but he hugs her, hoping it will help her just as her hugs help when he is hurting.

'I love you back', he assures her, and his mum messes with his hair tenderly.

‘I know that you do, Harry. Loving is your greatest gift’.

Somehow, Harry thinks, his mum doesn’t sound like that is a good thing.

The moment Lily parks the car on the next Monday to let Harry in her parent’s house, she sees Petunia’s car.

That looks like a bad omen, which is confirmed when Petunia is waiting for her, pacing on the front porch. As soon as Petunia sees her, her pale eyes burn in fury.

‘Go see Grandma’, she tells Harry, who nods but throws a curious look for Petunia. She ignores him.

‘What were you thinking?’, Petunia hisses to her, in a low voice.

‘What do you mean, Petunia?’, Lily asks tiredly, looking at her watch. Her shift begins in ten minutes and she really doesn’t want to be late because of her sister.

‘This!’, Petunia throws a bag in her hands and Lily’s stomach drops when she recognizes the book inside. ‘How can you give something like that for my Dudley?’

‘It’s a children’s book’, Lily says, forcing herself to not lose control. ‘You read it when you were a kid, I read it, it’s no big deal’.

‘It’s a book about… things like you! And Dudley told me your son has been reading to him - you are trying to indoctrinate my son!’

Lily laughs without being able to control.

‘Indoctrinate? About what? This is a book about friendship and bravery’.

‘I don’t want your son near mine. Ever . You are not a good influence on my son!’

‘Because Harry read him a book ? How closed-minded can you be, Petunia, really?’

‘Enough to decide what’s best for my son and to know I don’t want you or your whelp near him’.

Lily watches her sister. Her face is red on her anger, but for once Lily sees beyond it, thinking of the small similarities her sister shares with Dudley. And no matter how unbelieving Lily was of that weird relationship between them when she first saw them together, they seemed to be fine with each other.

Despite their parents’ incompatibility, Harry and Dudley are still cousins, she thinks.

‘Petunia’, she begins in a soft voice. ‘I know it may be too late for us, but don’t mess with their relationship. They are still family’.

‘You are not my family’, Petunia declares, hateful. ‘You are not ever since you went to that school of freaks’.

Lily sighs.

‘Think about your son ’, she tries once more. ‘He deserves a good friend and Harry -’

‘He deserves normal people around him. I won’t allow Dudley to ever talk to your son again’.

‘You are pathetic, Petunia’, Lily mumbles. Petunia shakes her head.

‘I won’t let Dudley feel left behind when your son vanishes to that school’, she says, and for a moment Lily sees a flash of pain in her sister’s eyes before Petunia leaves her alone on the front porch.

Lily is breathing hard, trying to control her annoyance and to ignore a familiar guilty feeling - it’s not her fault for being a witch and she cannot control how Petunia reacts to it -, when she hears quiet footsteps.

‘Mama?’, Harry asks shyly. ‘Are you crying?’

Lily blinks, realizing that there really are tears in her eyes. She had not noticed them before - and she doesn’t know exactly what caused them.

‘No, no’, she assures Harry, kneeling to look in the eyes. ‘Mama is fine’.

Harry looks uncertain at her.

‘I heard voices’, he admits. ‘Dudley won’t come anymore?’

‘He is in school now, just like you will be next week’.

‘But… Aunt Petunia said Dudley can't talk to me again. Did I do something wrong?'

She hugs him.

'No, you did nothing wrong. It's just…', she sighs and raises to sit on the chair on the porch. 'Come here with me'. 

Harry sits on her lap, at least this time not complaining he is too old for that.

'Do you know how you are a wizard?', she asks, and Harry nods with a smile. 'Your cousin Dudley is not. Does this bother you?'

Harry looks confused at her.

'Why should it bother? He is nice most of the time'.

Lily thinks of a toy under the couch and tries not to grimace.

'Well, do you think he cares that you are a wizard?'

Harry thinks for a moment.

'I told him I was one. He didn't mind'.

Lily smiles softly, even if she doesn't believe Harry's impression is right this time.

'Well, my sister, your aunt, she isn't a witch. And that created a rift between us'.

'Rift?'

'Like we were in two worlds that are too apart from each other'.

'Oh'. Harry frowns. 'Like you are in Narnia and she is in Wonderland?'

'Like that, yes. And I know you don't care, that now it doesn't seem to make any difference, but someday it might. And that's why Petunia doesn't want you and Dudley to be friends. She is afraid'.

'I would always be nice to him!', Harry declares.

'I know. And I want you to be like that, as long as he wants too, ok? If he… if he doesn't want to talk to you - and I promise you it won't be your fault, Harry - you just let go, ok?'

'Ok, Mama', Harry agrees, though Lily can see he is upset. She pulls him into her arms.

'It will be ok, Harry. Now, go play ok? I will see you at night'.

Harry nods, placing a wet kiss on her cheek, before running inside the house again.

Lily looks at her watch. She is late, but she has another stop to make.

She looks around, but the street is empty, so she just turns in the spot. When she opens her eyes, she is in the house she only visited once in her life, though for some reason she knows the address by heart.

Privet Drive, number 4, Surrey.

There is no one in the house, just as she expected. She glances around, grimacing at how strangely clean and organized the house looks, before going upstairs. In the second door the opens, she finds Dudley's room.

She places the book on his bed and looks around until she finds a piece of paper and a pen.

'That's yours and Harry's secret' , she writes, attaching the note to the book. Then Lily takes her wand and casts a Concealing Charm on the book, before apparating away.

Grandpa dies on a Thursday morning. Harry is in school when his father comes, looking serious, and takes him home.

There he explains that Grandpa's heart was not very good for some time and now he is gone. Harry knows what death is - he remembers the old grumpy cat they had that went to sleep one night and never woke up anymore, and he went once to the funeral of Uncle Moony's father.

He feels sad, thinking of how Grandpa always smelled of old cologne and how he would lend Harry books he had never read before and how he taught Harry to play football (in exchange Harry explained everything to him about Quidditch).

But he thinks his mum is sadder, so he hugs her when she comes home looking distraught, her eyes red, and he doesn't complain when she makes him wear a black suit. His dad has to wear one too and Harry feels very grown-up at his dad's side. He is already ten after all. Next year he will go to Hogwarts, so he isn't such a child anymore.

He feels very young, though, when they go to the funeral and Grandma is even sadder than his mother, looking so frail and lost. Harry hugs her too, and some tears fall from his eyes, especially when he sees Grandpa looking so still in his coffin.

Afterwards, his father brings him some water and asks if he can sit quiet one moment while James goes to help Lily. Harry nods, knowing his mother needs more comfort than him.

He looks around. There are few people he knows - neighbours from his grandparents, a distant uncle he saw once or twice. And then there is a family Harry knows. The Dursleys.

Aunt Petunia looks the same, though she is as sad as his mum now and Harry thinks it's strange that, even though they don't look alike, they have the same distraught expression on their faces.

He glances briefly at Uncle Vernon, avoiding his eyes because there is something menacing in Uncle Vernon that always made him feel uncomfortable; his uncle clearly doesn't like him.

And then there is Dudley, who Harry saw only a few times in the last three years. Though Harry would stay most of the summer break in his grandparents' house, Dudley wasn't much there and if he was, he would ignore Harry, even when Harry would invite him to play with the other neighbour kids.

Sometimes he thought Dudley was looking at them playing in the backyard, but whenever he looked back Dudley was already gone.

Dudley looks older and bigger than Harry remembers, but his anger expression is the same as he reacts to something Vernon Dursley is saying to him, stomping the ground and leaving the room.

Harry wonders what happened, but Dudley doesn’t come back from wherever he is. After a few minutes, Harry gets up, warning his father he will go to the bathroom.

As he is washing his hands, though, he hears a sniff coming from one of the reserved cabins. He stops, wondering what he should do, but he suddenly recognizes the sneakers appearing below the door.

'Dudley?', he asks very softly, and then there is silence as if Dudley even stopped breathing. 'You can come out, I know you are there'.

'Leave - leave me alone', he hears a trembled voice.

If Harry was there, he thinks he would not want to be alone. He would want his parents or his godfather to be at his side.

'It's ok to be upset', he says, thinking of the sniff he heard. 'I am sad too'.

'I - I am not sad , go away'.

Harry frowns, his gaze going to the door, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he says: 'I think of Grandpa's laugh. I wish I could hear him laughing just one more time… that makes me sad'.

There is another sniff.

'He laughed like a duck' .

'Yeah', Harry agrees with a small chuckle, even as longing burns inside him. 'It was weird'.

'Very weird'. There is a pause. 'And when he told his jokes about rabbits?'

'They were the worst jokes ever’.

'But he laughed every time'.

'Yeah, he did'.

Another pause and Harry hears the door unlocking. After a second, the door opens, showing Dudley, somehow looking smaller than he is, his eyes very red.

'I miss him', he admits, not looking at Harry.

Harry nods. 

'Me too', he says. 'It's strange seeing him there, so still'.

'I don't want to see him', Dudley whispers. 'I never saw anyone… dead before'.

'Dad says it's ok to be afraid, you just shouldn't let it take over you'.

'I am not afraid!', Dudley cries, annoyed. 'I am not a baby!'

Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms.

'I didn't call you that! And grownups get afraid too'.

'My dad is never afraid', Dudley says smugly. Harry shrugs.

'My dad says he gets afraid sometimes. I have a godfather - he is… like a cop - and he got hurt last month. I never saw dad like that, but he was really worried and… afraid'.

Dudley frowns thoughtfully.

'And what happened to him? To your godfather?’

‘He is fine now’, Harry smiles. ‘Ready for the next one, he said, but Dad told him he should be more careful’. Dudley nods, as if agreeing, and there is another silence between them. ‘I can come with you if you like’, Harry says in a soft voice. ‘To say farewell to Grandpa’.

And he extends his hand. Dudley looks at his hand, and Harry thinks he is taking a step forward when a voice echoes in the room.

‘What is going on here?’

Dudley jumps as if he was electrocuted. Harry turns in time to see Uncle Vernon entering the bathroom and pushing Dudley to his side, as far from Harry as he can.

‘What do you think you are doing, boy? Trying to do anything to Dudley?’

Harry crosses his arms, fighting an instinct of just flying the scene, because Uncle Vernon is twice his size and looks really intimidating.

‘We were just talking, Uncle Vernon’, he explains, in the most polite voice he can manage.

‘And why do you think someone like you should talk to him?’

‘Now, now’, Harry turns to see his father arriving at the door, smiling nicely, though Harry thinks there is something forced in that smile; it doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘They are cousins, Vernon, it’s normal they should talk’.

‘There is nothing normal about any of you’, Uncle Vernon spats, looking nervous, and he leaves the bathroom dragging Dudley with him.

Harry notices his father doesn’t move from his place at the door, making Uncle Vernon pass right next to him.

When they are gone, James looks at Harry. ‘Are you ok, Harry?’

Harry nods.

‘Then come on, the funeral will be over soon’. 

James’ hand stay on Harry’s shoulder as they come back as if he wants to protect him.

‘What were you doing with Dudley?’, he asks quietly, and Harry feels like he is asking the same thing Uncle Vernon wanted to know, though the tone is very different.

‘We were just taking. About Grandpa’.

‘Oh’. James looks thoughtfully. They arrive at the reception, and they stand at the door. ‘And what do you think of your cousin?’

Harry watches Dudley take a deep breath and go to the side of Aunt Petunia, next to the coffin. His face is all wrinkled as he looks one last time to their grandfather, almost crying, before he goes back hurriedly to Uncle Vernon. 

‘I think he is rather brave’, Harry whispers.

Harry is finishing a letter to Ron when a shadow falls over him. He raises his eyes, already grimacing as he sees not one person, but four.

Dudley’s gang.

He sighs for a second before assuming a look of polite disinterest. It won’t help, he knows, but this at least allows him some moral consolation. It’s just his bad luck - those boys all live six to ten blocks away from his grandmother’s house. They shouldn’t have been there.

But it was not the first time their path had crossed with Harry, when they were returning home from some long trip they had made to enjoy their summer vacation. On all these occasions, they had mocked and teased Harry for his appearance, all of them much bigger than him.

Harry could take the mockery (he knew how to answer back enough to confuse them) and he could take the physical threats (they never did anything where people could look and Harry was very good at dodging anyway), but the part that always bothered him was how Dudley never looked at him, always laughing with his friends and never once standing up for Harry.

‘Look at that’, says one of the boys, the one Harry thinks it’s called Piers, taking the letter Harry was writing. ‘Is this a scroll?’

‘Oh, you know that word’, Harry says surprised. ‘Heard in a videogame?’

Piers ignores him, passing the letter around his friends. Harry closes his fists, annoyed.

‘Who writes on a scroll?’, another says. ‘There is a thing called paper, you know?’

‘I am vintage’, answers Harry, forcing a smile. ‘Care to get back?’

‘Oooh, it’s a letter’, Piers mocks when the letter comes back to him. ‘To dear Ron – it's this your boyfriend?’

That makes Dudley throws a quick glance at Harry – their eyes meet for a tiny second – but he doesn’t say anything.

‘A love letter?’, Piers continues. ‘Oh, let me see - “Dear Ron, I’m so excited for to our trip to Dorset – a week at the beach then watch the Quidditch League final”’. Piers looks at Harry with a mocking smile. ‘What’s that, Quidditch? A codename for your honeymoon trip?’.

‘Give it back’, Harry hisses, trying to take the letter from Piers’ hand, very aware that Dudley is now openly looking at him with an expression Harry doesn’t understand.

‘Come and take, Potter’, Piers laughs, shaking the letter in front of Harry, but when Harry tries to take it (and he is very fast) Piers just pushes him. He falls heavily, his hands extended to soften the fall, and he feels his hands burning as they scrap on the ground.

‘Hey!’, there is another voice and Harry looks around to see a boy from the neighbourhood, one year or so older than him, approaching them. ‘Let him be’.

The boy crosses his arms, waiting, and Harry wishes he would look so impressive like him. He raises, just as Piers takes a step towards the boy – they are four to one, after all -, but Dudley grabs his arm.

‘It’s not worthy’, he says, rolling his eyes in obvious disdain. ‘Let’s go, it’s late’.

Piers hesitates a second, before nodding.

‘Yeah, let the lovebirds have their moment. But watch out, Mark, your boyfriend here is writing a love letter to another’.

And, laughing, Piers crumples the letter and throws it in Harry’s face – he catches it, even as his hand sting with the contact. Harry watches them go and he sees the boy is still there, also looking at the retreating gang.

‘You are hurt’, the boy says. ‘You should clean your hand’.

‘I will. Thanks, by the way. They are nasty some times’.

‘Yeah’, the boy agrees, grimacing in the direction the gang went even if they are not visible anymore. ‘They are just lost’.

Harry wishes they would lose themselves away from him, but he doesn’t say anything.

‘I’m Harry’.

‘Mark. I’ve seen you around’.

‘Yeah, my grandmother lives here’. He points to the house behind him. Mark raises his eyebrows.

‘You are Dudley Dursley’s relative?’

Harry shrugs. ‘He is my cousin’.

‘Oh’. Mark seems thoughtful for a moment as if he wants to say something, but he just blinks. ‘You should really take care of that hand – and well, they were kind of right, paper is much better than parchment, kiddo’.

Harry just smiles, without answering, thinking that at least he had been writing with a pen.

He manages to hide his bruise from his parents – just to avoid questions Harry doesn’t want to answer – and he keeps company to his Grandma, whose memory is becoming worse as time passes.

The night before his trip to Dorset with Ron and the Weasleys, he ends up sleeping in his grandmother’s house, while his parents have a formal event in St. Mungo’s. Harry thinks he is more than old to be home alone, but he doesn’t complain. After the trip, he won’t come here anymore because his sixth-year at Hogwarts will begin and he will miss Grandma.

Dudley is sleeping there too, something that Harry tries not to let bother him. Dudley mostly ignores him when his friends are not around, and they have a quiet dinner before Grandma goes to bed. Harry is in the living room when he hears the front door opening quietly and he knows Dudley is escaping for the night.

He rolls his eyes and continues to watch the movie on the tv. He turns off the light, leaving only the television on, and his eyes are almost closing as the movie credits roll when he hears voices outside.

He should just turn and sleep, but he recognizes Dudley’s voice and of another guy, who doesn’t sound like any of Dudley’s friend, and he gets up curiously.

They are just outside the kitchen. He approaches the backdoor, waiting quietly in the shadows.

‘I am getting a little tired of this, to be honest’.

‘I’m doing all I can’, Dudley is whispering. ‘Every moment I can -’

‘I meant more than just about time. It’s this – secrecy and midnight encounters. It’s just not for me’.

‘You know I’m trying’, says Dudley, his voice trembling. ‘It’s just complicated -’

‘I know, I know. It was for me too. But you keep coming with those friends of yours and I don’t know what you want anymore’.

‘I wanna be with you’.

‘No - look, summer is almost over, you will get back to that fancy school of yours, and I get it. You just wanted some summer fun’.

‘It was not just for fun’.

‘But it can never be more, can it? That’s fine, Dudley, really. I... see you around, kiddo’, the guy says, and now Harry can recognize Mark’s voice.

‘You are dumping me ?’

‘That would mean we had a relationship’, Marks points out, and Harry hears him walking away.

He stays in the shadows, but he doesn’t hear Dudley, so he walks silently back to the living room. He is almost at the stairs when the front door opens and Dudley turns on the lights, his gaze immediately falling on Harry.

Their eyes meet and then Harry sees all colour draining from his cousin’s face.

‘What are you doing?’, he asks, looking angry at Harry.

‘I am just going to bed?’, Harry replies, faking disinterest.

‘Go on then’, Dudley orders him, falling heavily on the couch. ‘I don’t need to keep looking at your face’.

He turns on the tv, changing channels fast, obviously uninterested in anything that’s broadcasting. Harry knows he should go upstairs, he should not involve himself with a cousin that clearly doesn’t want his company, but there is an angry hurt expression on Dudley’s face that seems to be beyond his annoyance with Harry.

So he takes a step down.

‘Are you ok?’, he asks.

‘None of your business’.

‘Fine, it’s just... never mind, I will just go to bed’.

‘You are leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?’, Dudley asks him, his eyes shining with malice. ‘For your honeymoon?’

Harry blinks.

‘It’s a trip with my friend Ron, yeah, but half his siblings will be there’.

‘Oh, won’t that get in the way of your date?’

‘I don’t know’, Harry answers, his temper rising. ‘Still, my chances are better than yours – Ron didn't dump me’.

Dudley raises instantly, his fits raised.

'I - I don't - you don't know what you are talking about!'

Harry rolls his eyes.

'I saw you and Mark -'

'Shut up! You didn't see anything!'

'Whatever, Dudley'.

'No, you…', Dudley looks lost for words. His face is purple now and he looks on the verge of screaming, but Harry knows he won't dare waking up their grandmother. 

He looks really upset, so Harry feels guilty.

'I won't tell anything'.

'You better not or I - I - I will punch you!'

Harry's guilty vanishes and his temper rises once again.

'Like you punch ten-years-old? I heard about Mark Evans -'

'He… he deserved it, he called me a - a fag'.

And then Dudley sits, his head between his hands, shaking.

Harry watches him, not knowing what to do, before he takes a tentative step in his cousin's direction.

'Dudley?', he calls hesitantly, but Dudley doesn't acknowledge him. Harry sits next to him on the carpet and pats his back. Dudley jumps. 'It's ok'.

'No, it's not', Dudley disagrees, raising his red eyes to stare at Harry. 'I - I am freak'.

'You are boringly normal', Harry assures him. Dudley shakes his head.

'How can I be? I - I like boys ’.

Harry shrugs.

‘Some boys like boys. Some boys like girls. Some like both. It’s no big deal’.

‘How - how can you be so cool with that? Do you -’

‘No, I never… But my godfather is. I mean, he is attracted to both. I’ve met some of his boyfriends, some girlfriends, though it never lasts. He is not one for relationships’.

‘And you don’t mind?’. He pauses. ‘His parents don’t mind?’

‘Sirius has issues with his parents that have nothing to do with who he likes’, Harry assures. ‘But for everyone that knows him - no, it doesn’t matter. That’s just who he is’. Harry glances at him, concerned. ‘Does anyone know? About you’.

Dudley shakes his head.

‘Other than Mark, no, no one ever did’.

‘Oh’, Harry sits, trying to smile reassuringly. ‘Mark is your first boyfriend?’

‘He is not really… I just fancied him for a long time, that’s why I always kept coming here during summers… And I thought he could like me back’.

‘He seemed to like you’.

‘No, he was just being nice’. Dudley grimaces. ‘I don’t even like myself’.

‘If you don’t, why don’t you change? Why keeping hanging out with Piers and all those guys?’

‘It’s just easy, I think. I fit in with them’.

Harry bits his lips, thoughtfully. ‘Once my dad told me how he was when he was young. Our age, I mean. Bit of a jerk, really, thought the world revolved around him. He grew up out of it, but he says he is always upset he took too long to change his way’.

‘I can’t… I would lose my friends’.

‘Not really, not if they are your friends. And if they are not - why would you want to be with them?’

‘I don’t want to be alone’, Dudley admits.

‘Hey, you still got me’, Harry assures. ‘We can exchange letters and all’.

Dudley thinks about it for a moment. ‘Do I need to use parchment?’

Harry laughs. ‘No, you can use normal paper. But you will have to send through owl post, there is no mailman at Hogwarts’.

‘You use owls?’

‘Yeah, do you wanna meet her? Hedwig is the best’.

Dudley looks unsure.

‘Will she bite me? Mum tells me owls carry diseases’.

‘Hedwig is very healthy. Come on’.

He raises, waiting for Dudley, who also gets up after another second of hesitation. They go up the stairs, to the bedroom Harry always sleeps in when he is there. Hedwig is sleeping perched on the head of the bed, and she wakes up when Harry caresses her head.

‘She is beautiful’, Dudley sighs, and Hedwig hoots for him, opening her wings to show herself. Harry laughs.

‘Snobbish’, he says playfully, making Hedwig bite teasingly his finger. ‘Come here, Dudley’.

Dudley seems fascinated by the owl, so he approaches carefully, sitting at the edge of Harry’s bed and raising his hand to touch Hedwig. His hand is trembling, but he doesn’t flinch.

‘It’s so soft! Your lot use owls?’

‘My lot?’, Harry repeats, finding it funny.

‘It’s how my Dad talks about you, you know. Wizards ’.

He says the last word as if he is afraid anyone would listen.

‘What’s the problem with saying wizards?’

‘My parents don’t like anything that it’s not… normal’.

And he lowers his head,  suddenly ashamed again.

‘Hey’, Harry tries. ‘From what I’ve seen of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, they would love you anyway’.

Dudley doesn’t look very convinced, but he nods, looking around. Harry supposes he never entered that room before.

‘Is that your friend?’, he asks, glancing at the photograph on the bed stand. ‘The one you were sending the letter?’

‘Yeah, the ginger one is Ron. And the other is Hermione’.

‘Oh, is she your girlfriend?’

‘No, actually… she and Ron have some sort of thing going on, but they are too stubborn to do anything. They just bicker a lot’.

‘And you? Fancy anyone?’

‘Well’, Harry blushes. ‘Not really. There was this girl I liked, but she is dating a really cool boy who just won this tournament in my school, so I have no chance. And you? With Mark?’

‘I don’t think we will go anywhere’, Dudley admits sadly. ‘He is cool with who he is and I… I am not just there’.

‘Perhaps you will meet someday when you are both at the same place?’, Harry suggests. Dudley smiles softly, without answering. ‘I will ask Hedwig to check on you from time to time. So if there is anything you want to talk to me about, you can’, Harry offers. ‘I only get letters from my parents and Sirius at school, it would be nice to have a pen pal’.

The smile on Dudley’s face is more sincere now.

‘Really, Dudley, for anything’, Harry assures. ‘Now, what’s going on about you and Mark? You sure have good taste. He is nice’.

Harry isn’t sure about it at first, to be honest, but the letters come. Hedwig seems to know when Dudley has something to tell him because she always leaves for his school and returns the next morning with a letter to Harry.

The letters are short at first, tentative, and because Harry believes in setting an example, he starts talking about his school year, his stress for the exams, the professors at Hogwarts, how Ron and Hermione are, and even about his crush on Ginny, talking about how he feels guilty of having feelings for his best friend’s sister.

Dudley starts talking about his own school, the things he is learning, his friends and even some sort of relationship he is having with a boy from his Math class. After a while, he even starts to offer Harry some advice on how to talk to Ron or how to ask Ginny out, despite admitting that he is not experienced in either. It doesn’t matter; it feels good to be able to talk to Dudley.

That Christmas, Harry convinces his mother to not avoid the Dursleys for once and they meet for Christmas dinner. It’s tense for his parents and for the Dursleys, neither one seeming at ease despite they not discussing anything in front of Grandma, and Dudley corners Harry in the kitchen.

‘What were you thinking?’, he asks in a small voice, annoyed.

Harry shrugs.

‘I wanna spend Christmas with my family and you are part of it’.

‘My parents don’t know we talk !’

‘Neither do mine’, Harry admits. ‘But what they are going to do? Forbid us of talking to each other?’

‘Yes!’

‘They can’t’, Harry defends calmly. ‘And even if they try, we are cousins. No one can change what we are’.

Dudley seems to know that Harry is talking more than just about their family relationships. Harry leaves Dudley in the kitchen, going back to the living room to help Grandma finish the table. After a few minutes, Dudley comes to his side, asking him if he needs help with settling the tables.

Harry smiles, ignoring how all the grownups seem to be looking at them, and asks Dudley to take the glasses in the cupboard.

‘How was your Chemistry test?’, Harry asks calmly and after a second of hesitation, Dudley begins complaining about his professor. It’s a very normal conversation.

On the day of Harry’s seventeenth birthday, Dudley enters Lily’s car for the first time. He looks very composed and very quiet next to her, looking around curiously as if he expected her car to be different somehow.

He answers nervously Lily’s questions, not engaging in any conversation, and he is positively sweating when they finally arrive at Lily’s house.

‘Are you ok?’, Lily asks kindly.

‘I never went to a… wizard’s house before’.

‘It’s pretty normal’, Lily promises. ‘And if it helps, you are not the only Muggle here’. She pauses. ‘You know what Muggle is?’

‘Yeah, Harry told me’.

‘Well, Hermione’s parents have come too. So, nothing will explode and there are not things weird… just don’t eat anything Fred or George offer you’.

‘Are those the twins? The ones who have a prank shop?’

‘Yep. No one trusts anything they give, and you would be a perfect victim for them’.

‘Because I am Muggle?’

‘No, because you don’t know them yet’, Lily smiles. ‘Let’s go’.

There are a lot of things to take care of for Harry’s birthday, but she makes sure to watch over Dudley, more for the fact that he doesn’t really know anyone other than Harry, but she doesn’t have anything to worry.

Harry greets his cousin as happily as ever, making sure to introduce him to everyone, and she sees that Dudley seems to be fascinated by Neville and Ginny, and a little bit unsure if Luna is playing with him or not, but Ginny assures him that Luna does believe in everything she is saying and that most can or not exist.

‘You are over worrying, Lils’, James says, placing his hand around her waist, seeing the direction of her look.

‘How come I shouldn’t? I can’t stop thinking that at some point Dudley is going to freak out with all this magic, and then Harry is going to be upset because he really loves his cousin and -’

‘It’s not the same as you and Petunia’, James notes, and Lily doesn’t say anything, trying to understand why it’s so hard for her to see this.

The answer comes easily when she sees Harry trying to help Dudley on a broomstick for the first time. In some ways, she is jealous that Harry got his Muggle relative to share with him the magic part of his life. 

Petunia always refused her presence after Lily went to Hogwarts.

Perhaps it’s why Dudley always knew that Harry was different from him. Perhaps it’s Harry that never really gave up on his cousin. Lily wonders if she should have tried harder with Petunia.

Whatever the reason, she misses being friends - being sisters - with Petunia when she sees Harry clapping as Dudley makes a full leap on the broom around the house, both of them laughing full of joy.

Later, when she is taking the journey back to Surrey, she glances at Dudley when the car stops at a red light. His niece is yawning, obviously tired of the day.

‘So, what did you think?’, she asks. ‘How is a wizarding birthday to you?’

‘Actually more normal than I thought’, Dudley admits, and Lily knows what he is thinking of. The environment could be full of magic, but the birthday cake and the songs and the balloons were all the same. ‘Your house too. Harry always talked about Hogwarts, I thought your house would be more… medieval’.

‘Don’t suggest that to James’, Lily laughs. ‘He would consider adding dungeons and towers’.

‘He is funny. Uncle James, I mean. I never thought…’, he stops himself, suddenly embarrassed, and Lily doesn’t need to wonder what Dudley could have heard about her and James through his parents.

‘He likes a laugh’, she concedes quietly. ‘I saw you talking to him and Sirius - watch out, they are just as bad as Fred and George, just older’.

Dudley grins.

‘Fred and George tried to make me eat one of their sweets. Sirius helped me put back on their drinks - I think that earned me their respect’.

‘Oh, that’s why their tongues were purple? Good one’, she winks at him, approvingly, and Dudley looks satisfied.

‘It was a nice day. I’m glad Harry invited me’.

‘You can always visit us, Dudley’, Lily assures him. He smiles at her, before looking around.

‘You can drop me here’, he says, when they enter Magnolia Road, biting his lips. ‘I can walk home from here’.

Lily stops the car, looking at him.

‘Petunia doesn’t know where you went today?’, she asks softly. 

Dudley blushes.

‘I just thought - too many questions. Mum thinks I was with Piers’.

‘You shouldn’t lie to her’, she says, all responsible.

‘There are things you just don’t tell your mum’.

Lily tries not to grimace, thinking that Petunia wouldn’t blame Dudley. She would blame Lily for somehow misguiding her son.

'Mothers always find out in the end', she warns him. 'Are you sure it's best to hide your relationship?'

He looks startled.

'Relationship?'

'With Harry'.

'Oh', he looks at the same time relieved and worried. 'Wouldn't you be upset? If Harry was involved with someone you didn't approve?'

'Why wouldn't I approve?'

'Let's just say… what if he was seeing some Muggle? Or that you didn't like Ginny for some reason?'

Lily shrugs.

'I trust Harry. Even if he were with someone I couldn't understand, I know his heart is always in the right place'.

Dudley looks at her with a concentrated expression.

'You didn't like us together', he guesses. Lily flushes.

'I was just surprised. I thought..  after all these years, you two had nothing in common'.

'That's why you and Mum don't get along? Nothing in common?'

Lily thinks of petals of flowers opening on her hand and Petunia looking wistfully, wishing she was the one with magic. She thinks of returning home with a bag of things and memories that Petunia could never understand - and had not wanted to understand.

'We just lost our way to each other. Magic fixes many things, but it broke us'.

'Like Susan. She stopped believing in Narnia'.

Lily smiles softly.

'I always hated that ending. I like to think she found her way back, that she didn’t end up alone'.

'I never thought about it. It would be better. She shouldn't be the only one left behind’.

'She should have her family back', Lily agrees. Dudley smiles at her, before sighing.

'I have to go'.

‘Be careful on the way home’, she tells him, just as she would tell Harry, and something peculiar sparkles on Dudley’s eyes.

‘I will. Thanks for the ride, Aunt Lily’.

She nods warmly at him and, just for good measure, watches him until he is safe on the front step of Privet Drive number 4.

Harry is pleasantly occupied enjoying some time alone with Ginny - his parents are away and there are only advantages to side-along apparition -, when the doorbell rings. For a moment, he doesn’t register what the sound is - nobody ever rang the bell of their house on Godric’s Hollow.

And then the ringing is more insistent and he breaks apart of Ginny, startled.

When he opens the door, he sees Dudley, soaked wet and trembling on his porch, a bag equally drenched in his hand. Behind him, the rain is falling heavily.

‘Hi’, he says, shivering, pointing to the car parked in front of the house. ‘Do you have cash for the cab?’

Harry exchanges a look with Ginny and she nods, her eyes alert and understanding immediately what is on his mind.

‘Come inside, Dudley’, she says, just as Harry goes to check the emergency box in the hall with money - muggle and wizarding.

The taxi is expensive and, when Harry asks, the driver says it came from Surrey. Harry runs back home, also getting wet in the process, and Ginny welcomes him with a towel.

‘He doesn’t look good’, she whispers to him. ‘I will make some tea for him’.

Harry nods. Just like Ron, Ginny believes that anything can be fixed with a hot cup of tea.

When he enters the living room, he sees Dudley shivering close to the fireplace, trying to warm himself.

‘Hey’, he calls, and Dudley jumps as if Harry startled him. When Harry looks at his face, he sees his cousin looks really scared. Harry slowly pulls out his wand. ‘Do you trust me?’

Dudley looks at him intently, before nodding. Harry points his wand to Dudley, whispering an incantation and seconds later Dudley is dry.

‘Thanks’, he says, watching Harry cast the same spell on himself.

‘No problem. Ginny is making some tea for us’.

‘I - I don’t wanna bother. I don’t even know what I am doing here’.

‘That’s ok. Let’s just sit for a while’.

Dudley bits his lips, but he sinks on a couch. Ginny comes back with the tea and some biscuits for them. Dudley accepts with a nod, without looking directly at her, and Ginny raises her eyebrows at Harry.

‘I think I’ll go now’, she says, careful to keep her voice light. ‘Mum will probably be wondering where I am’.

Harry raises, not sure how to answer her without further upsetting Dudley, but Ginny seems to understand the situation.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow’, she says, winking at him, her voice full of promise, and Harry grins at her.

She kisses Harry softly, waves to Dudley who just blinks at her, and enters the fireplace.

Dudley gaps when the fireplace burns bright green, for once looking like his normal self.

‘Wow! Is that normal?’, he asks, bewildered. Harry smiles.

‘It’s just the Floo Network, our type of tube’.

‘Vanishing in the middle of green flames? Doesn’t look safe ’.

‘I can always apparate with you. How do you feel about teleporting?’

Dudley sighs. ‘Can I teleport myself to a faraway place?’

‘There are magical portkeys for that, I can explain later’. Harry sits next to Dudley. ‘What happened, Big D?’

‘I - I left home. They were going to kick me out anyway, so before they did it, I… just came here. I’m sorry to drop here in the middle of -’

‘Dudley’, Harry interrupts him, frowning. ‘You can always come here, but… why would your parents kick you out? They adore you’.

‘We fought’, Dudley whispers. ‘It was… it was bad. They heard what Piers’ mother was talking about me, and she saw me with Adrian a couple of nights ago and… I was tired. Just tired of getting to hide myself and to pretend Adrian was just a friend, but… it wasn’t a fight, not really, until -’

He pauses, looking back at the fireplace.

‘Until?’, Harry insists, knowing that sometimes it’s better just to tell everything.

‘I told them the truth about me. That Adrian was my boyfriend and that he’s been for a while and… they didn’t get mad exactly, I think they were just in shock at first. But then Dad… he mentioned you . Said it was your fault, that you had me broken somehow - oh, don’t worry’, Dudley adds when he sees Harry’s indignant expression. ‘I know I am not broken. I told him that and I said… that you were the only one that really ever accepted who I was, no judgment’.

Harry winces. ‘Let me guess, Uncle Vernon didn’t like it’.

‘Oh, he got mad’, Dudley confirms, with a sigh. ‘He called you a waste of space and time, I said you were none - and I was pissed, so I told him how we were friends and that we’d been talking for ages. That’s when Mum told me to go to my room. I think she could deal with a gay son, but not with me hanging out with a wizard'.

'Dudley…'

'What? One of them is my choice'. He drinks the tea, looking nervous. 'Can I stay here just for tonight? Tomorrow I will see what I'll do. I've  saved some money -'

'Dudley', Harry interrupts him again. 'Don't worry about it. You can stay as long as you need'.

'I don't want to bother'.

'As long as you need', Harry repeats firmly.

'I am interrupting your time with Ginny'.

Harry smirks. 'We go to school together and I have an Invisibility Cloak. We always have time', he assures.

‘Invisibility Cloak?’

‘Oh, you are going to love it . Come on, let me show you’.

Lily is not really surprised when the doorbell rings on Monday morning. She knew her sister would come ever since Lily had called her the day before; the only thing she had wondered was if Petunia would come Sunday or if she would wait until Monday morning when Vernon wouldn't come.

She knows what the difference means.

'Hi, Petunia', she says quietly, watching her sister fret in the doorway.

'Where is he? Where is my son?'

'It's eight in the morning. He is sleeping'.

'I need to see him!'

'You may, when he wakes up. Come share breakfast with me'.

'I don't - I won't enter your house! I've already come to this godforsaken place -'

'It's a very normal village, as you may have noticed it', Lily says calmly, indicating the other houses in the street, with cars parking in front and a few neighbours walking with their dogs. It’s very charming, but she knows Petunia can’t see anything, as if the presence of her witch sister has contaminated the place.

'Not if you live here! I won't have my son -'

'Your son came here on his own because he wasn't feeling welcome in his own house', Lily notes coldly. 'Come inside or wait here, it's your choice'.

There are a lot of things that are her sister's choice, but Lily doesn't say anything. She knows how to pick her fights and Petunia is one that she gave up on ages ago.

But she will be damned if she lets Petunia messes with her nephew.

It’s a test of sorts, one that Petunia passes when she enters Lily’s house, looking around as if expecting something nasty. Lily knows Petunia won’t find any; in fact, Petunia looks almost resentful as she sees the classic decor in the Potter’s house, how clean and organized everything is (Lily will deny to death, but she made sure everything was in place in anticipation of her sister’s visit).

Petunia seems in doubt whether to wait alone in the living room, but she ends up following Lily to her perfectly normal kitchen, sitting on a chair with her arms crossed.

‘Red tea?’, Lily offers pleasantly, knowing it’s Petunia’s favourite. Her sister denies it with her head; Lily shrugs. ‘What are you doing here, Petunia?’

‘I told you, I want to see my son’.

‘Why?’

‘What do you mean? He is my son ’.

‘And there is a reason he left his parent’s house. What are you going to do? Drag him back there?’

‘It’s where he belongs’.

‘He won’t change who he is. You know that, right?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I am saying Dudley is who he is. You can’t take him back waiting that he will someday change. And I know you, Tuney. You can’t stand anything that seems remotely out of ordinary’.

‘Don’t’, Petunia says, her voice shaking. ‘Don’t stand there judging me and acting like you are much better than me’.

‘I am not. I am only worried about my nephew and whether or not he will be welcomed in your house - because I am damn sure that if it was my son in your house, for any reason, not filling your ideals of normal, you wouldn’t stand him’.

Petunia looks away.

‘I don’t care about your son. But Dudley - he is mine and I will protect him. I would never let anything happen to him’.

‘What about Vernon? Does he feel the same?’

‘I - I don’t care ’. Petunia turns to her with her eyes shining with angry tears. ‘Is that what you want to hear? That I didn’t get the perfect husband who always supports me?’

‘No’, Lily whispers. ‘I am really just thinking about Dudley. I care for him’.

‘Why? What is he to you?’

Lily closes her eyes for a moment, thinking of coming home two nights ago and finding Harry and Dudley talking in the living room, how Harry stood up to explain that Dudley needed someplace to stay and how he absolutely refused to tell them what happened, until Dudley had grabbed Harry’s shoulder, in a reassuring gesture, and had explained to James and Lily the real reason he had left his house.

She remembers how Harry stood up next to his cousin, looking proudly and supportively at him.

‘Family’, she says simply.

They stay in silence until they hear sounds coming fast downstairs, and then Harry appears in the kitchen, smiling brightly, his Firebolt already on his shoulders.

‘Hey, Mum! I thought I’d take Dudley -’, he stops, surprised. ‘Oh, Aunt Petunia, I didn’t know you were here’.

Right after him, Dudley comes, his face red with excitement.

‘How high do you think - oh. Mum’.

Dudley stops, looking unsure, his eyes alternating between Lily and Petunia as if he doesn’t know if he should run or stay.

‘Petunia came to see you’, Lily says finally. ‘Why don’t you go to the living room to talk? I will fix you some breakfast there’.

‘I will take just a cup of tea’, Dudley murmurs. ‘Thanks, Aunt Lily’.

They leave for the living room, with Dudley holding a trembling cup in his hand.

‘They will be ok? Should we do something?’, Harry asks, concerned, and she smiles at her son. 

‘Just let them talk, Harry’.

Petunia has many faults, she thinks, but like her, Petunia would do anything for her son.

They stay there for half-an-hour until they return to the kitchen, both with their eyes red. Harry seems alarmed, but Lily is not surprised when Dudley tells him he will go back with his mother.

‘Where to?’, she asks Petunia, when they are alone in the entrance hall, Harry having gone up with Dudley to help him gather his things.

‘I am staying with Mum for now’, Petunia whispers. ‘Until… until Vernon sees reason’.

‘Do you need anything?’

‘I don’t want your charity -’

‘I am speaking for Dudley’, Lily cuts her off. ‘Harry can go see you - he is of age, it’s a lot easier’.

‘He is not. He is a month younger than Dudley, isn’t he?’

‘In the wizarding world, we come of age at seventeen’, Lily explains, hiding her amusement at how her sister seems appealed with the idea. ‘Anyway, he can… appear at any time if you need. Dudley knows how to call him’.

Petunia doesn’t look like she would ever approve of such call, but she nods, tense.

Dudley appears a minute later, holding his backpack.

‘I am so sorry for all the trouble, Aunt Lily’, he says, looking embarrassed, but Lily shakes her head.

‘You are always welcome here’, she assures, ignoring how Petunia grimaces at the thought. ‘Come at any time’.

‘Oh, he will’, Harry says brightly. ‘I promised to take him to a Quidditch game next Saturday’.

Petunia shudders.

‘Let’s go?’, she suggests, opening the door, looking desperate to leave the house. Dudley looks upset at his mother, but he nods.

‘See you later then. I will send you a letter, Harry’.

‘Hedwig will be waiting’.

Dudley smiles, leaving towards his mother’s car. At the front door, Petunia turns back, looking at Lily, her lips trembling and looking at the edge of a speech that she cannot let out of her mouth.

‘I know, Petunia’, Lily says, nodding, and her sister just blinks before she leaves.

Harry glances at her.

‘What do you know, Mum?’, he asks quietly.

A lot of things, Lily thinks. She knows that Petunia won’t ever do the same to Harry, wouldn’t ever think of giving shelter to Harry if he ever needed - she would never see beyond her resentment with her sister. She knows that Petunia is unsure about a lot of things in the future, if Vernon will ever accept Dudley. She knows that Petunia loves her son, truly does, and that Dudley is safe with her.

And she knows that Petunia is grateful for Lily, is grateful that Harry is friends with Dudley, even if she is incapable of saying it out loud.

‘They will be fine’, she says, hugging Harry and kissing him in the cheek, closing the door behind them.