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Harry was sat in his home office, idly sifting through his work planner for the upcoming year at Hogwarts. He had set out the lesson plan for the year, and it never failed to make him smile, it had never been a task or something he felt he had to do with a shove. He truly enjoyed sorting out the subject planners for each month and each year. It got a little tiresome every now and then, but it was always quickly overthrown by seeing the inevitable joy on his students faces as he animatedly taught his material to the never-ending stream of students that poured through his doors.
His daughter, Annalise— dubbed Annie to her very stubborn demand— sat beside him on a chair he pulled up next to him. She swung her legs back and forth as she watched him plan. She had done this from as young as she could, as learning seemed to be engraved into her DNA. She often reminded Harry of Hermione, much to her blush and swatting hands whenever mentioned. Annie’s rosy cheeks always flushed and her mouth dropped open long enough to catch flies whenever Harry cast a spell to entertain her, and he always ruffled her deep brown hair that travelled lightly down her back afterwards.
It made him smile, watching his daughter look at him in awe for a simple display of magic, and it reminded him of, well, him when he was younger. She sat here today, even more excited as usual. It was recently her 11th birthday, which meant her first year at Hogwarts was upon her. She insisted, and it seemed she got her stubbornness from her dad, that she watch him make up the plan for her lessons to be. He had said yes, but skilfully made sure she didn’t catch a glimpse of anything of importance. He didn’t deem it fair for her to get a head-start, knowing how it felt to feel left behind in the presence of others who knew vastly more than he did.
As he was finally moving onto his 7th years, sometimes the more difficult lessons to pan out, he was interrupted by the chime of the Floo that sat in the furthest wall from his desk, encroached with snakes and roses to his request. He patted Annie’s head and smiled down at her before he crouched in-front of the Floo and accepted the call.
To his surprise, it was Minerva’s face that peered through the flames. It had taken Harry awhile to get used to calling his Professor by her given name, but after over half a decade, he had smoothed into it eventually.
“Minerva, an unexpected yet pleasant sight. Is everything alright?” Harry asked, warmth seeping through his voice.
“Yes, Mr. Potter, however I am here to inquire if you could step through for a moment, as there is something I would like to discuss with you.” Minerva responded, only a slight worry playing at her voice.
He frowned, considering what it could be. It was still a month to be until the year commenced, and professors only came to the school a week early to sort themselves out. He and Neville often coordinated with this, and set off together. Though seeing it wasn’t near the time, it couldn’t be to do with anything regarding teaching.
“Of course, I’ll be there in 5.” He told her, keeping the frown off of his face in light of his daughter he just knew was trying to take a peek at him.
The Floo call ended, but the passage remained open in expectancy of him to arrive soon.
Turning around to look at his daughter, he walked up and offered his hand.
“Come on, let’s go to your mum. I just need to step through to Hogwarts for a meeting, I'm sure it won’t be long but I’ll pawn you off to your mother for the meantime.” He said to Annie, with a cheeky smile at her indignant look.
“But dad! Can’t I come through too?” She pleaded.
Annie begrudgingly took his hand, which made him smile as recently she had been mumbling that she is simply far too old to hold her father’s hand and often opted to stick her tongue out and run away from him. Not too old for that, it seemed.
“No, Annie,” He sighed, having had this conversation one too many times. “You can’t, you’ll be there soon enough. More to be excited about, yeah?”
She pouted and looked away as they walked towards the living room, where no doubt Harry’s wife would be sitting as she coddled their newest addition to the household.
Entering the living room, he bent over the back of the couch to greet his wife, Marianne, with a kiss to the back of her hair. She startled, but looked up and smiled at him gently as she held their youngest daughter in her hands.
“How is she?” Harry whispered, to not wake the baby that was finally sleeping, after a quite impressive crying session.
“Oh, you know. Fussy, but she’s settled now.” Mary smiled back.
“Good, good. Where’s Thomas?”
“He’s over at Ron and Hermione’s, something about Hugo getting a broom…”
Harry groaned. Thomas, their middle child, at only 6 had been determined to give both his parents a heart attack. Not only was he just starting to display signs of magic, he was using it in ways Harry could only beg to Merlin he would stop. In his most terrifying event, Harry had once turned around in the kitchen to find a knife staring back at him floating in midair with a devilish smile plastered across his son’s face.
He had yelped, quite undignified in its matter, and told Thomas to drop it. He couldn’t even fathom how or where he had gotten the idea, or how he even managed to pull it off but it had ended in a very serious lesson about safety and being responsible. Being a 6 year old and all, Thomas took little of it in.
His latest obsession was trying to get on a broom and set off, which both Harry and Mary until now had been very talented in keeping him away from anything that flies. He made a mental note to scold his best friends, as they know how much he didn’t like it. He did have to think for a moment if they even knew what their children were up to, but he filed it away for later.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook it off and redirected his attention as to why he had came into the living room with Annie in the first place.
“Minerva’s asked me to step through to Hogwarts for a minute, do you mind just keeping an eye on her? I doubt I’ll be long, but I can’t risk leaving her in my office alone” Harry asks, fondly rolling his eyes at his eldest’s antics.
The few times he had left her alone in there, it had been disaster, and Harry had finally learnt his lesson about it when he walked in to see Annie covered in quill ink and a few feathers sticking to her hair. Where she got the feathers from? Harry didn’t want to think about it. Sometimes being a dad, means to ignore a few things in life when he knew he probably wouldn’t like the answer.
Mary smiled up at him, and agreed. Harry felt a little guilty at leaving his wife with a newborn and an 11 year old to wrangle on her own, but Mary took motherhood on like a challenge. She took everything on as a challenge, to be perfectly honest. It was what drew him into her at first, they had met in Diagon Alley and Harry had been struggling to juggle quite a few of his purchases. Mary had spotted him, waltzed right up and re-arranged them all in his arms to make them easier to carry, and the amount didn’t deter her even as it took a few times. Harry had been hooked ever since he had stood dumbfounded at this woman who came up to him and started on him as if it were a personal task to her.
He had kept walking into her on his daily outings, and he had finally gotten the courage up to just bloody ask her out. She had agreed graciously, and it had flown out from there. Now, they sat with 3 children and a lovely home, quaint and peaceful just as Harry had always dreamed about. Mary blew dreams out the park, though, and he couldn’t be more grateful that she had walked up to him that day. She hadn’t, and still hasn’t cared about his status, the only time being when she looked up at him with doe eyes and begged for a reservation at a beautiful restaurant establishment that took months to get into. Harry could fold under those eyes any day, and he was happy to waive around his name to see the smile that blossomed on her face from it.
He leant down and kissed her sweet, ruffled his eldest daughter’s hair and cooed at his youngest before returning to his office and stepping through the Floo. He entered with a tumble, as even at age 36 he just couldn’t quite grasp it as of yet. There’s still time, he mused, but couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
Even as he had been teaching at Hogwarts for 7 years now, he still felt the same as he stepped through. It brimmed him with joy, and childlike wonder even though he had by now managed to school his expression when he walked through.
“Mr. Potter, I’m glad you could make it. Come, sit.“ Minerva said, gesturing for him to sit across from her as she took her seat behind her Headmasters desk.
He still felt like a student, sometimes, when he sat at this chair as he did so many years ago. Though in very different circumstances, he couldn’t help but feel it crawl up his spine.
“Of course, I can Minerva. What can I do for you?” He asked, folding his hands in his lap after crossing one leg over the other.
“As you know, it is a month out from the school year starting, I trust you have everything just about set up for your year and years?”
“Yes,” He smiled at her gently, assuring her that just like last year and the year before, he can indeed be responsible.
“Good. Very well, you are aware it is around this time we seek out the muggle-borns and help introduce them to our world?” She asked, seemingly tensing at this.
That confused Harry, Minerva had never been one to tense or be nervous about muggle-borns attending Hogwarts or entering into their world. It was actually one of her favourite activities, and Harry had never seen her so pleased when he had joined her on these escapades.
“I am, yes. Would you like me to take over a few for you? I wouldn’t mind, I can assure you.” He responded, curiously.
“Well, Potter, it’s a little different this time. You see-“
She stopped herself, which was very unlike her.
“Professor?”
Her eyes snapped back to Harry’s at the old title, not realising they had strewn.
“It’s better if you see for yourself, dear.”
Upon saying this, she handed him a Hogwarts letter. He ran his fingers over the embellished H in red wax, and smiled distantly. It brought back the happiest memory he could’ve had back where he came from, having a letter addressed to him and having it introduce him into a life he couldn’t never expected to have.
Still running his fingers across the rough envelope, he flipped it over and promptly froze. Staring back at him, was an address he never thought he would see again, paired with a familiar last name that almost brought bile up in his throat.
‘Sophie Dursley
The Second Bedroom
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging,
Surrey’
For a moment, everything stilled for Harry. His heart dropped, and his breath caught. He traced the ink with a shaking finger, and closed his eyes. The letter could only mean one thing, that his cousin, Dudley, had a magical daughter. He didn’t even know how to react, or how Dudley would react to having a witch as his daughter. He had never grasped how he actually felt about the whole magic business, as he was regularly busy taunting Harry.
The address on the parchment brought back some of the memories that Harry tried to repress so dearly, much to pretty much everyone in Harry’s life’s detest. He had went to therapy— a Mind Healer— about it, but he never believed he would be truly over what happened to him as a child. And this, this was throwing it back in his face. He couldn’t tell whether to laugh or cry, whether to laugh at the Dursley’s and throw it in their face that they couldn’t escape it no matter what they liked. He then, in lieu, had fear spike at his heart. Had the girl shown magic? How had they reacted?
Was she being treated the same as he once was? It made Harry sick to his stomach, but he was brought out of his thoughts.
“Potter?”
He opened his eyes slowly, and met Minerva’s worried ones.
“Potter, I completely understand if you wouldn’t like to go and introduce her, I would be more than happy to-“
She stopped, as Harry held up a hand to effectively silence her. He knew it was a little rude to do so, but he couldn’t bring it in him to care at that moment.
“I’ll do it.”
Minerva almost spluttered at his words, but quickly regained herself with the upmost respect she could, and sighed.
“Very well. If you are sure?”
“I am. When am I to do this?” He asked, voice a little flatter than it had been when he first came.
“Tomorrow- would be best. Her birthday is then, and it seems prudent to start the introduction as soon as possible,” She looked him over with concern, trying to find a hint of doubt in Harry’s decision. “Potter, are you sure? I’m aware you- didn’t have the best history with your relatives.”
He sighed a shuddering breathe, but smiled up at her.
“I am sure, Minerva. I can’t explain my reasonings to you, but trust they are sound.”
The reason for that, is well, he didn’t know his reasonings either. He wanted to help this girl desperately. He hadn’t even known she had existed until mere minutes ago, but he felt he had to. He needed to know she was okay, and not under a grandmothers wrath such as Petunia. He shivered at the thought of his Aunt being a grandmother, but collected himself as he stood up.
“It was lovely to see you, thank you for informing me of this.”
“Of course, you know you are always welcome here to chat of any concerns brought by this.”
He murmured an understanding, and stepped back through the Floo before closing it off. He dragged his hands over his face, shaking himself and walking through to his living room where his wife and two girls sat.
Mary looked over at the hall where Harry stood looking over at them fondly, and motioned him over to sit next to her. His youngest still lay sleeping in her arms, and as he got comfortable next to Mary she handled her over to him.
Lucile, or Lucy, was a delight to hold. It always reminded him of when he first held Annie, his first ever child that brought explosions of warmth to his heart, and continued the trend throughout the following two.
Mary settled in against Harry, leaning her head on his shoulder as she moved her fingers above her newborns head, little sparks of warm yellow fluttered out from the tips and tickled Lucy’s nose, making her sneeze lightly. Mary always had the softest magic, powerful but motherly and it made Harry smile to the biggest range he could.
Glancing up from Lucy, he saw Annie looking at the three.
“Come here, darling.” He said softly, and she rushed to settle in beside her dad.
Newborns confused Annie, but she was always so gentle with them. She loved her little sister already, and had vowed to play dolls with her and dress up as soon as Lucy was old enough.
Glancing up from her position resting against his shoulder, Mary asked what the meeting was about. His stomach churned at the thought, so he told her to wait until later. She smiled and agreed, and she softly grazed her hand in the air and music began to lull through the room.
Harry recognised it immediately, their wedding song. He sighed contently, and shut his eyes.
The evening showed, Mary got up to retrieve Thomas from the Weasley-Granger’s and served dinner. Thomas was rowdy at the table, as Harry chastised about manners that he just stuck his tongue out at and proceeded to flick a pea into Harry’s hair. He couldn’t help but laugh, but quickly collected himself at a stern glare from Mary.
As Mary got their oldest two ready for bed, Harry walked around the living room bopping Lucy from side to side whilst whispering affections into her ear. She couldn’t understand them just yet, but it wouldn’t stop Harry from showing a baby a life full of love right from the very start, just as he did for Annie and Thomas. He wouldn’t have it any other way, and all throughout his life, before and after children, he had promised himself no child he knew would know what he did at a young age.
He put Lucy in her cot, and started her nighttime lullaby and slow rock of the crib as she bubbled off to sleep with Harry looking down at her, until Mary came over and grabbed his arm to guide him to their bed. After getting ready for the night, he crawled into bed and held Mary as he explained what the meeting was about, as promised before.
She had almost protested, tutting at Harry for his insistence to see the girl, even if it would bring up bad memories for him. He explained in earnest his need to do so, and Mary resigned. He asked about the kids, and she swatted his arm and reminded him she could take it on like it was nothing.
Thomas wanted to go back to see Hugo again anyways, they were stuck at the hip it seemed. Mary knew she could deal with her daughters, as all it took for Annie to calm down was to come watch Lucy just breathe it seemed like, as some form of cartoon played on the newly positioned telly in the living room.
Thomas went crazy about the telly, as muggle and magic didn’t work too well for where his best friend lived, but seeing as Harry and Mary opted to live in a muggle neighbourhood it worked just fine. They had to restrict how much he could watch, as he would sit mindlessly in-front of it for hours at a time if uninterrupted. The telly however, or lack thereof, did not deter him from constantly visiting Hugo. Ron had made one too many jokes about how they basically had a 3rd kid at this point, to which Harry sulked only a little bit about. Who was he to deny Thomas a friend? Sue him.
Harry still fretted over her, but she shushed him with a kiss and turned the lights off and curled up against him for sleep. Tracing the outline of her face, and tucking her curls behind her ear, he smiled and drifted off.
*
Harry, you could say, was positively panicked. He was due to leave to the Dursley’s in 5 minutes, and he couldn’t calm himself down. He was standing in-front of the mirror, telling himself he was a grown man now and could look at a house without wanting to turn around and sprint on the spot. Mary had come in multiple times to comfort him, but nothing seemed to stick.
He ran his hands through his hair for the millionth time, and turned away to leave. Not without one snide comment from the mirror of course, to which he promptly flipped it off and walked out the room. He met Mary in the kitchen, and she handed him a coffee in a thermos cup to take with him which he promptly forgot on the kitchen counter. Harry almost remarked about throwing a shot of Firewhiskey in there for some confidence, but resisted so as the hex he would get for that was simply not worth it.
He kissed her goodbye, gave Annie a quick hug and crouched down to his boys height and told Thomas to for once, behave whilst he was gone. The boy shrugged and grinned cheekily, and ran out of Harry’s grasp before he could stop him. Sighing but smiling, he stood back up and gave one last run over of Mary, and Lucy sitting in the bassinet in hands reach before walking out the door.
He walked into a closed off alley, took a deep breathe, and Apparated to a similarly closed off alley in Little Whinging.
When arriving, he steadied himself and began the walk down the street, starkly reminding himself of the walks he went on when he was 15, and close to death of his own hands. He didn’t like to remember that, but it was all he could think about as he danced the path he once did so many times before.
He nervously flipped over the letter in his hands, paired with a copy of Hogwarts: A History. It was the best thing he could think to bring as some form of gift, not knowing a single thing about his cousins daughter. Merlin knew he wished he was given a little more information when thrusted into a new life, sure it was the best life he could’ve possibly wished for, but a bit more information never hurt anyone.
Rounding to the house he dreaded so dearly, he walked up the path on weary legs that threatened to collapse. Did his Aunt still live here? His uncle? He doubted it a little, if this is where Dudley lived with his daughter and he presumed, his wife. The house looked almost identical as to how he left it all those years ago, the roses seemed to flourish in a way he had never seen them do so, and the windowsill was lined with plants and what seemed to be childish scribbles in crayon. He smiled at that, and steeled himself to walk up to the front door and knock.
Knock.
Just knock, Harry.
Fucking knock.
He raised his hand around 8 times, before throwing himself into the deep end and rapping the door in a way he hoped he did so politely 3 times. It took a minute, but he soon heard thundering footsteps trample down the stairs from inside, and Harry had to clench his hands to ignore what he associated with stomping down the stairs. Merlin, this was difficult.
He held his breath as the door opened, and he came face to face with a man he truly thought he would never see again. He had grown since 17, obviously, but it took Harry a minute to intake the differences that lay on his face. He had skimmed down slightly, and his hair grew a little with a beard decorating his chin.
Dudley just stared at him, mouth open and clearly not expecting Harry, his cousin whom he had not seen for almost two decades now, standing outside his front door.
Harry let out the breath he was holding, and drew another one before letting out a breathy,
“Hi,”
That seemed to kick Dudley into reaction, and he shut his mouth and opened it again but failing to say any words. Harry wanted to turn around and run, fling the letter in his face and lob the book down the hall and never return. Against his inner wantings, he continued.
“Dudley-“ He was promptly cut off.
“Harry?” Dudley all but whispered, his voice cracking at the weight of the name.
“Yeah. I- uh. Need to talk to you about something, can I come in? You might want to sit down.” He asked sheepishly, not knowing what else to say.
“Right- yeah. Come in, you- you know the way.” Dudley stammered, gesturing Harry to enter and he stood to the side.
Harry winced at that, and walked in. Dudley shut the door behind him, and began in-front of Harry to the living room-kitchen door. He opened the door and walked through, expecting Harry to follow suit, but he didn’t.
Harry had expected himself to follow Dudley straight through as-well, but he stopped just short of the door, looking down at something that made Harry unable to move.
Down to his right, was his cupboard. With the same locks, the same scratches and marks from where he was thrown against it by Vernon. The same marks that copied against his body, that would never leave him. The cupboard he was locked in and starved in, for days on end. Harry’s eating never did get to the normal pattern normal children had grown up with, even at Hogwarts. It had followed him into his adult life, and whilst he had a good grasp on it, it was still never what it should be.
He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it, as memory after memory assaulted him and it almost felt like he was still the small boy that cowered in fear every day from what awaited him outside it. And sometimes, what awaited him inside it. He never could relax in this house, and like many things in his life, it stuck by Harry into adult life as he stood leg-locked in-front of it, taught as a bow.
“Harry?” Dudley’s voice rang from the living room, and he stepped back out to see what was taking Harry so long to join him.
Upon seeing Harry just… staring down at the cupboard, Dudley started.
“Oh- gods. Harry, I'm sorry- I don’t even know where to, I just-“
Harry cut him off in a whisper, holding his hand up in a similar fashion to how he did with Minerva the previous day.
“Don’t.”
Dudley stopped, and sagged against Harry’s word.
Ripping his eyes away from his childhood torture, he faced Dudley again. His eyes were wide, trying to study Harry and gage what he was thinking at the moment.
“Let’s- this isn’t what I’m here to talk about.”
“Okay… come through.” Dudley said nervously, wringing his hands and allowing Harry to move in through to the living room and kitchen where he was once again unfortunately assaulted by his mind.
Sighing with a shudder, he pushed the thoughts away. He needed to talk to Dudley about Hogwarts, and he needed to get it done now before he backed himself out of it because he was too weak in his mind to step foot in this house.
“Do you want tea or anything? I can make some up.” Dudley offered, still looking at Harry cautiously.
“No, you’re alright. Thanks, though,” Harry said, with a small smile taunting at his lips. “Right. You have a daughter, Sophie, yes?” He continued.
Dudley reeled back, clearly shocked that Harry knew he had a daughter to begin with.
“I- Yes. How did you..?”
Taking a deep breath, Harry decided to get it all out at once.
“Her birthday is today, yes? 11th.” Harry ignored the continuing shock developing in Dudley’s face. “Well, you remember what happened when I was 11? I got a letter, didn’t I.” There wasn’t a question to it.
It wasn’t the most, welcoming way to properly introduce their world to Dudley, but Harry couldn’t imagine another way.
“What?”
“I got a letter Dudley. For my school. You remember, right? That whole faff?”
“…Yes.”
Dudley seemed incredibly unsure of where this was going, and Harry couldn’t tell if it was because of what really happened with Harry and his letters, or if it was because he was catching on to what Harry was throwing out.
“Well, I’ve got another one.” He said, and handed the letter over to Dudley.
He grasped it with shaking hands, just as Harry had done. It took what felt like hours for Dudley to comprehend what this meant, but it was really only a minute or so. Time dragged out when both parties were not having fun. Eventually, Dudley looked up at him with wide eyes, and gulped.
“You mean… Sophie? She’s-“
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
There was silence for a moment, and Harry simply stared Dudley down.
“Well?” Harry prompted, he needed to see if he had to get Sophie out of here, if they would treat her the same they had to Harry.
It seemed like a damsel broke in Dudley, and it all flowed out like he had been holding it back for years.
“Oh god it makes- it makes so much sense! I thought I was going crazy, Harry. I swear to god, I thought I was. She keeps moving shit!”
Out of pure shock at Dudley’s reaction, he shot out a laugh that he knew neither of them predicted.
“Moving shit?” He whispered through a strangled smile.
“Yes! For the love of- she floated a fucking picture frame the other day! I- I almost wanted to reach out to you.”
That stopped Harry in his tracks.
“You- You wanted to reach out to me?” He asked, genuinely curious.
“Yeah, I did. I knew you- well you used to do that sometimes. I know we didn’t have the best reaction to it-“
“That’s one way to bloody put it Dudley.” Harry muttered under his breath, but it was caught.
“Harry- I really am sorry, I- I don’t know what to say. I can’t apologise enough, I was horrible to you, as were my parents. I look back in horror at the way they treated you, y’know? I know nothing we say can forgive it but.. I- I’m sorry. I really am.”
Dudley looked strangely remorseful, Harry noted. Part of Harry truly couldn’t believe he was finally hearing this, after so many years of pained wakings and dwindling hope a child so young should never have a concept of.
“I can’t say it’s okay, Dudley. But I appreciate hearing it.”
“Are you… are you okay- now?” He stumbled over his words, like he didn’t know if he didn’t want to hear the answer to it.
“You could say that. It never goes away.”
Dudley shut his eyes and grimaced, muttering what Harry could hear as ‘yeah, that makes sense’.
Harry turned the conversation back to the main point of why he was there, once again.
“Your daughter is a witch. This list entails what she needs for September coming, and I brought a sort of gift- sort of helping hand. It’s a book all to do with Hogwarts and all that.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Dudley blinked.
“I teach there, by the way. I’ll be one of her professors.”
“You teach there? What as?”
“Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
“Defence against the who what now?” Dudley asked, confused as anyone could be.
“The book will tell you all about it, read it together. I- I have a daughter, Annie. She’s going this year, they would be cousins right?”
“You have a daughter?- Never mind that. Yes, they would be cousins. Will they be in the same.. classes? That kinda thing?”
Dudley was genuinely curious about all this, and it burnt against every conceivable notion he had once had about his cousin. How could someone, who used to beat him regularly, scarred his back from glass, purposefully get him in trouble for performing accidental magic, be so goddamn curious about the world he condemned Harry for?
“If they’re in the same house. Look, read through the book. I’ll be coming a week before September 1st to help her get her stuff. You’re welcome to join, if you can. I’ll be taking my daughter with me, so they can get to know each other, if you’ll allow so.”
“I- yeah. It would be good for them to have a friend, right?” Dudley seemed to soften at the thought of his daughter having a friend like her, and it twisted sourly in Harry’s gut.
“Yeah.” Harry responded, slightly strangled.
“So- what now?”
“I uh, I need to get back home. My wife is waiting, and our newborn won’t stay sleeping for long.”
“Newborn? How- how many do you have?”
“Three.” Harry smiled at the thought of his children, and suddenly became rather eager to return to them.
“Wow. Congrats, mate.”
Harry coughed, covering up the weird noise he made at that.
“Yeah- listen. I’ll send a letter, and it will be through an owl so don’t freak-“ Harry grimaced at the word, and noted Dudley did so too. “Reply back to me, and I’ll keep in correspondence with you. I’ll arrange a date to meet up.”
“That… sounds reasonable, yeah.” Dudley responded, looking away as if unsure what to do next.
“Right… I’m gonna head now. Say hello to Sophie for me, I’ll be seeing her soon.” He turned to leave, but was stopped by Dudley.
“Harry?”
He turned back, slowly and met Dudley’s gaze one last time before departing.
“Yes?”
“I’m- I’m glad you’re okay. Well, as okay as you can be, and- your children. I’m happy for you.”
A ghost of a smile passed Harry’s lips, and he whispered back.
“Thank you.”
He left the living room, gave one final solidarity look at the cupboard and walked down the hall, gazing at the photos that lined the wall now filled with Dudley’s family. With one last look over his shoulder at the house that gave him hell, he walked out the door and shut it gingerly.
He had to walk very fast so to avoid him collapsing in the lawn he once worked so hard on, and ducked into the alley way he had Apparated into. Leaning against the wall, he tried to gather himself, to no avail.
Harry broke. The shuddering sobs racked his body and he held himself up, and almost vomitted next to him. He didn’t even know he was holding so much back from being in that house again. A house that never once homed him no matter how much he begged for it to do so at night, alone in the cupboard.
The house that now homes a little girl, who grew up far better than he did yet he could not bring himself to feel bitter about it, he shoved any of it away. She was raised right, and Dudley didn’t see the magic she so beautifully produced as a flaw or means to starve. It made Harry wretch with happiness and a gurgling feeling of unfairness he refused to let himself feel.
A little girl who had a bright future ahead of her, and what seemed like a brilliant childhood behind her, and Harry smiled lightly through the sobs that channeled his inner soul and reached through to comfort that cowering child that still lived in him. He allowed it to wrap the child and reassure him that someone broke the cycle, and there wouldn’t be another like him in the family. It broke every little bit of reserve Harry had left in him, and he so desperately wanted to grasp his scared, tiny younger hand and tell him it’s alright.
He made it, and so did she.