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Things at the Burrow were finally beginning to improve. It was a slow, fragile sort of healing, but after Fred’s funeral, each member of the family had begun to recover, little by little.
Of course, everyone was “improving” in their own way. Ron spent most of the day being distracted by Hermione’s lips. Ginny was constantly distracted by Harry’s. Mr Weasley became even more absorbed than usual in Muggle contraptions and ended up filling the attic with useless odds and ends. Mrs Weasley began cooking so much that even if the entire Weasley family had gathered every day, they still would not have managed to eat half of it. And George had started leaving his room to eat, which was an enormous improvement, considering that before then he had hardly come out at all and had spoken to no one.
Still, in one way or another, they were finally able to have a comfortable breakfast. A time when it no longer felt as though everyone had to remain in funereal silence. Mr Weasley was speaking more often about the improvements at the Ministry, which cheered everyone up, particularly since he had been promoted to an important position in Kingsley’s cabinet. They were beginning to feel like ordinary people again.
But all of that was ruined one perfectly ordinary morning, when Dedalus and Hestia appeared out of nowhere at the Burrow’s front door.
Everyone tensed at once, because after a war with hundreds of dead, a visit from Aurors never seemed likely to bring good news.
Bill, who recovered himself more quickly than the others, approached the door cautiously and greeted the Aurors politely, asking the reason for their visit.
‘Actually, Mr Weasley, we need to speak with Mr Potter, if it’s not too much trouble.’
Harry felt several pairs of eyes turn towards him, all full of concern. Mrs Weasley looked as though she were about to object, but Harry stood before she could and made his way over to the Aurors.
‘Has something happened?’ Harry asked, trying to sound less worried than he felt.
Dedalus smiled kindly. ‘No, not at all. We only wanted to let you know that your aunt, uncle and cousin are all safely back home.’
A collective sigh of relief passed through the kitchen. At least there was no more bad news. Harry nodded awkwardly.
‘Good. I’m glad they’re all right,’ he replied, not quite knowing what to say. ‘Thank you for looking after them.’
Dedalus’s smile widened. ‘It was an honour to be able to help you, Mr Potter.’
He gave a small bow that made Harry feel deeply uncomfortable.
‘Thank you,’ Harry repeated, rather stupidly. ‘Was that everything?’
Hestia spoke for the first time since they had arrived. ‘Well, there is no further news. But I thought you might be interested to know that your cousin asked after you.’
Harry could not help widening his eyes in surprise. ‘Dudley?’
Hestia nodded happily, almost giddy with delight at the idea that at least one member of Harry’s family had shown some interest in him.
‘He knows you’re alive and well, but he kept asking what you’re going to do now, and whether you’ll be moving back in with them. I think you ought to drop by their house and speak to him.’
Harry was still too surprised to answer, so he merely nodded slowly. Hestia gave another small bow before taking her leave and disappearing with Dedalus.
Harry stood frozen in the Burrow’s doorway for a moment before closing it and returning to his place at the table, not at all sure what he was supposed to do next.
He shifted uncomfortably, knowing everyone was still watching him. Hermione finally broke the silence.
‘Well?’
‘Well what?’
‘Are you going to see them?’
Harry remained silent long enough for Ron to speak.
‘I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to go. Your family have been awful to you. You don’t have to see them ever again. You could write your cousin a letter, just to let him know you’re all right.’
‘Ron,’ Hermione scolded, frowning at him. ‘His family have spent a year on the run. They must be terribly confused and frightened. They deserve more than just a letter. Besides, whatever they’re like, they’re still his family.’
Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust. ‘Being his family doesn’t bloody excuse them. But it’s up to Harry.’
All eyes turned back to Harry, who felt compelled to tell the truth.
‘I have no idea what to do. I don’t even know whether Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would let me into their house now that I don’t have to live with them. Maybe writing Dudley a letter would be a good idea. It would be quicker, and a lot less awkward.’
‘Harry!’ Hermione gasped in protest. ‘How can you—?’
A few dry coughs sounded from across the table, drawing everyone’s attention to Percy, who was clearing his throat and not daring to look up from his plate.
‘I know it isn’t my place to tell you what to do, Harry. But I think you should go and visit your cousin, even if it’s only to let him know that you really are all right. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from the war, it’s that it’s never too late to try to make amends. And it seems to me that your cousin is trying to do just that.’
His face was as red as a tomato by the time he finished speaking.
The silence stretched for several tense seconds before Harry spoke.
‘You’re probably right,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘The right thing to do is go and see them. I’ll go first thing tomorrow.’
No one asked him why not that very day, but he could see that Hermione was not happy about it. Thankfully, Ron exchanged a look with her, silently conveying that it was not the time, the place, or the subject over which to pressure Harry.
Harry spent the rest of the day thinking about what his meeting with the Dursleys would be like. It certainly would not be sentimental. It would definitely be at least somewhat unpleasant. What was he supposed to say to them? He seriously doubted they wanted details about the wizarding war or the things he had endured that year. All he had to say was that he was fine, and that he was not going back to live with them.
Ron and Hermione offered to walk him to Privet Drive, but Harry refused, saying he had to go alone. Then he reconsidered and decided to ask Ginny whether she would come with him.
His girlfriend looked at him in surprise.
‘Of course I’ll come, if you want me to. But I thought you’d want to go alone.’
‘I do. But this might be the last time I ever see them, and… like it or not, they’re the only blood family I have left. It would feel wrong not to introduce them to my girlfriend, even just once.’
He blushed and looked away, realising too late how stupid he must sound.
His self-reproachful thoughts stopped when he felt soft lips on his own. Ginny pulled away with a gentle smile.
‘I’d love to.’
The next morning, Harry ate as slowly as possible to delay the awkward visit, until there was not a single crumb left on his plate. Then he trudged over to join Ginny at the foot of the Burrow’s steps before Apparating them both to the park near Privet Drive.
They both looked around to make sure there were no Muggles in sight before Harry began leading them towards the house.
The Dursleys’ house looked exactly the same as always, but he knew that was only because of the Ministry’s intervention. There was no chance the Death Eaters would not have ransacked the place looking for some clue to his whereabouts.
He approached the door slowly before knocking half-heartedly.
Two minutes later, the door opened, revealing a Dudley quite different from the one Harry remembered.
He had lost an impressive amount of weight. He was still on the heavy side, but nothing like the morbid bulk he had once carried despite his constant boxing training. Harry remembered Hermione telling him that the Dursleys, too, had gone through a difficult year, and he felt guilty for never having worried about them during his search for the Horcruxes.
Dudley looked paler than usual. His hair was long and untidy, and there were deep shadows under his eyes. But the most noticeable change was in his gaze.
One look was enough to tell Harry that Dudley was no longer the same. For as long as Harry could remember, Dudley had always carried himself with an air of superiority, like someone who had always had everything he wanted. Now, though, he simply looked tired. And worried.
The cousins stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Ginny cleared her throat. Dudley’s eyes moved to her, as though he had only just noticed she was there. Instinctively realising that she was a witch, Dudley took a fearful step back.
‘It’s all right. She’s with me,’ Harry reassured him quickly. ‘I just wanted you to meet her.’
Dudley returned to his former position, though he did not relax.
‘Oh. Right.’
He looked at the floor for a moment, uncertain what to do, before stepping back far enough to let them pass.
‘Come in.’
Harry tightened his grip on Ginny’s hand, and together they entered the house in which Harry had endured so many miserable years. The house he had thought, and hoped, he would never have to see again.
His aunt and uncle were nowhere in sight, but he could hear their poorly concealed muttering from the kitchen. They seemed to be trying to decide whether it was wise to let Dudley speak to his dangerous cousin alone.
‘Er… so, how have you been?’ Dudley began awkwardly.
Harry blinked a couple of times at the stupid question before deciding to go along with it.
‘I’ve been better, I suppose. But at least the war’s over now, and the wizarding world is healing.’
Dudley shuddered at the mention of the wizarding world, but said nothing.
‘And you? Are you all right?’ Harry asked.
Dudley gave a weak shrug.
‘I suppose so. We still can’t quite believe we don’t have to keep running any more. It’s all still so confusing to me, because my parents wouldn’t listen to any explanations about the war. So all I know is that there was a war, and now there isn’t.’
For the first time in his life, Harry felt sorry for his cousin. He could not imagine what it must have been like to be on the run without knowing what one was running from; without knowing what was really happening, with fear made worse by uncertainty. So he decided to explain as much as he could.
He did not tell Dudley more than he needed to know. Only enough for him to understand what had happened. It was awkward, especially as he could hear Uncle Vernon complaining loudly to Aunt Petunia about how Dudley did not need to know anything about the war with those freaks.
But Dudley did not seem to notice his parents’ argument. He was completely absorbed in Harry’s explanation. Harry had never seen his cousin so engrossed in anything, and he was surprised that it had to do with magic. By the time he had finished, Dudley’s expression was a mixture of fear and relief.
‘So what will you do now? Will you come back?’
Harry shook his head immediately.
‘No. I won’t be coming back. I’ll be staying at Ron’s for a while, while I sort out my godfather’s house so I can move in there in a few months.’
Something shifted in Dudley’s face. He did not look sad, exactly, but strangely shaken.
‘So… we won’t see each other again?’
The question caught Harry off guard. He had never thought Dudley would care whether he was alive or dead, let alone whether they stayed in touch. So he answered tentatively.
‘I—I don’t know. Maybe not?’
Fortunately, Dudley looked just as uncomfortable as Harry felt.
‘We could talk from time to time, if you wanted. I know your lot aren’t too fond of telephones, so we could write a bit. Just to catch up.’
Once again, Harry was completely taken aback by his cousin’s attitude.
‘That would be nice,’ he replied, unsure what else to say.
Dudley nodded before looking at Ginny.
‘Is she your girlfriend?’
The question brought Harry back to himself.
‘Yes. Dudley, this is Ginny. Ginny, Dudley,’ he introduced quickly.
Ginny smiled kindly before extending her hand.
‘Nice to meet you.’
Dudley hesitated only a moment before shaking it lightly.
‘You too.’
From then on, Harry began writing to his cousin once a year, right at the start of the summer holidays. He used Muggle post, as Dudley was terrified of owls. The letters were never very long. Each one from his cousin was a brief explanation of how he and his parents were doing, followed by a polite question about Harry’s own life. There came a point when Harry felt that his cousin was only writing to make sure he was still alive.
Four years later, with Harry and Ginny’s wedding just around the corner, Harry decided to invite his cousin to the ceremony. Partly out of politeness, and partly because he knew there was no way Dudley would dare attend a magical wedding.
He was right, but he had not counted on Dudley suggesting dinner to make up for not attending.
Harry and Ginny entered the restaurant Dudley had chosen. It was quite large, so it took them a couple of minutes to find him before Ginny recognised his cousin from a distance.
Next to Dudley sat a young woman who seemed to be about his age. She was blonde, with tanned skin, honey-coloured eyes, and full pink lips that smiled at Harry with a mixture of friendliness and nerves, forming two small dimples in her cheeks. She was not as strikingly beautiful as Ginny, but she was pretty and seemed kind.
Dudley had changed a great deal in his four years at university. Beneath his formal blue shirt was a broad, muscular body, thanks to his rigorous rugby training. His blond hair was short and neatly styled. His whole manner seemed different, too. When his eyes met Harry’s and he offered him an awkward smile in greeting, Harry knew he had changed for the better.
Dudley stood from his chair and hesitated for a moment, apparently considering how he ought to greet him, before extending his hand to give Harry a shy handshake, and then Ginny’s.
‘It’s good to see you after so long. How have you been?’
‘Fine,’ Harry replied awkwardly. ‘And you?’
Dudley shrugged, uncertain. ‘Same.’
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence before Dudley gently gestured to the young blonde woman, whom Harry had already deduced was the girlfriend he had mentioned in his letters.
‘This is my girlfriend, Marleene. Marly, this is my cousin Harry, and his wife, Ginny.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Marleene said, also standing and offering her hands before they all sat down.
Both Harry and Dudley froze for a second, not quite sure what to do, before Marleene rescued them.
‘So… I finally get to meet the mysterious cousin. Dudley told me you live in London and that you’re a police officer.’
Harry nodded, quickly realising that “police officer” was probably the closest Muggle equivalent of an Auror.
‘Yes, I’ve been in the service for four years. Dudley mentioned in one of his letters that you graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering.’
Marleene nodded.
‘Yes. I work for McLaren, designing engines.’ She glanced at Ginny. ‘Dudley also mentioned that you play rugby professionally. That’s fantastic! I was captain of rugby at university. Which team did you—?’
‘I sell insurance,’ Dudley offered abruptly, interrupting the question Ginny would not have been able to answer, since Marleene was unlikely to recognise the name of a Quidditch team.
Harry feigned interest to steer the conversation away.
‘Since when?’
‘A few months,’ Dudley replied with a shrug.
The conversation was cordial and, frankly, superficial, but not nearly as bad as Harry had expected. Marleene was very pleasant, and both she and Ginny gently guided the conversation while Harry and Dudley weighed every word before speaking.
Harry felt a jolt of mild panic when the women announced that they needed to go to the loo.
Once they had left, Harry began toying with the remains of his meal, unsure what to say.
‘Marleene’s great.’
That seemed to raise Dudley’s spirits, and he nodded with an easy smile.
‘She is!’ he said, before his shoulders drooped slightly in disappointment. ‘But Mum and Dad don’t think so.’
‘No?’ Harry asked, puzzled. ‘What don’t they like about her?’
Dudley rolled his eyes.
‘Pure rubbish. They say she’s a tomboy just because she works with cars and used to play rugby. She’s quite independent, too, and they don’t like that, because they say I’m the man in the relationship, but she acts as though she doesn’t really need me.’
Harry snorted.
‘If they only knew Ginny…’
‘The girls seem to be getting on quite well,’ Dudley remarked with a genuine smile. ‘I’m glad you finally met. I was really looking forward to you meeting her.’
Harry looked at him in surprise.
‘Oh, really? Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ Dudley replied awkwardly. ‘I suppose I wanted someone in the family to accept her.’
They said nothing more until the girls returned.
Two years and two letters passed before Harry saw his cousin again, at Dudley’s wedding. James was only three months old, and Dudley had not met him yet, so Harry and Ginny debated whether or not to bring him. Part of them did not want to, since he was a newborn and almost certainly would not enjoy the party. But when they realised he would be the perfect excuse to leave early, they decided to bring him after all.
The reception was elegant, though not very large. There were not many guests, only family and close friends of the bride and groom. Harry therefore noticed his aunt and uncle at once, whispering furiously while glaring at him.
Harry put his arm more firmly around his wife and led her decisively to their table. He was not going to let his aunt and uncle interfere with his family. If they said anything, Harry was quite sure he would not be able to resist drawing his wand, and that would not be good for anyone.
Dudley had had the decency, and the common sense, not to seat him with his old school friends — the ones who used to help him bully Harry. Instead, they were seated with some of Marleene’s friends, who seemed utterly charmed by baby James.
Harry had barely begun to eat when he felt a large hand on his shoulder.
‘I’m glad you came,’ Dudley said, smiling somewhat awkwardly, but certainly looking pleased.
Then his small eyes focused on James, widening in surprise.
‘Is—is he James?’ he asked foolishly.
‘Yes,’ Harry said, taking his son from his mother’s arms and standing so Dudley could have a better look at his nephew. ‘Would you like to hold him?’
Dudley looked fascinated, but also faintly terrified. He was saved by his new wife, who greeted Harry and Ginny cheerfully and lovingly took James into her arms. Dudley seemed more confident now that the baby was in his wife’s arms, because he leant closer to look at him, still overwhelmed by his mere existence.
He ran one of his large hands through the baby’s short, soft hair and smiled at his cousin.
‘Wow. He looks just like you, Harry.’
Only a year later, Harry received an enthusiastic invitation from his cousin to come over and meet his first nephew, Dustin.
Harry, Ginny and James Apparated near Dudley’s neighbourhood, then walked the last couple of streets to Dudley’s modest house.
It was a slightly small, two-storey house with a tiny garden. Decent enough for an insurance salesman who was still finding his footing.
It was December, so all the houses were twinkling with Christmas lights. Little James let out a series of excited squeals as they approached the house.
Harry felt inexplicably nervous about meeting his nephew. He was the first relative, apart from his own son, with whom he might be able to build a relationship from the very beginning. And that thrilled him.
They hurried to the front door, driven along by the cold, and thankfully, the door opened almost immediately.
It was Dudley, though Harry had some trouble recognising him. He looked accomplished. Content. Even proud. He had lost weight, but not so much as to look unhealthy. He was wearing glasses that made his small eyes look larger and highlighted the happy brightness in them.
‘Hello!’ Dudley greeted them, wearing the widest, most genuine smile Harry had ever seen on his cousin’s face. ‘Come in!’
Harry and Ginny, with James in their arms, entered the house without hesitation. It was smaller than his aunt and uncle’s house, but much more welcoming and far less ostentatious, especially with the cheerful glow of the Christmas decorations.
‘Make yourselves comfortable. Marleene’s gone to change Dustin; they should be down in a minute. In the meantime, I’ll get you something to drink. Marleene’s punch is lovely,’ he said quickly, heading towards the kitchen.
Harry and Ginny looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to do, until Ginny shrugged and sat on the sofa with James on her lap.
Meanwhile, Harry sat in the armchair and let his gaze wander curiously around the house until it settled on the photographs. Dustin had only just been born, but the house already felt like a shrine to him. Almost all the photographs were of the baby. A few were of Dudley and Marleene, and in one, they stood with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who looked beside themselves as they held Dustin.
But one photograph in particular caught Harry’s eye.
It was on the small table right beside the armchair in which he was sitting. There they were: Dudley and Harry, at Dudley’s wedding. James was in Harry’s arms, laughing uncontrollably, which made the smiles on the cousins’ faces look genuine. Harry had no doubt that it was the only photograph in existence of the two of them together, and he was deeply touched to know that Dudley had cared enough to frame it and display it in his home. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia could not have been thrilled.
Dudley returned with the drinks just as Marleene came downstairs carrying a small baby in her arms. Harry stood at once, unable to take his eyes off the tiny blond bundle, who lay perfectly still in his mother’s arms.
Dudley approached from behind his wife and looked over her shoulder at his son.
‘This is Dustin.’
Harry gazed at his nephew, fascinated. He had tiny blue eyes, like Dudley’s. What little hair he had was blond, and his skin was a milky white that made the small freckles on his chubby cheeks stand out even more.
‘Would you like to hold him?’ Marleene asked with a warm smile.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then positioned his arms to take the baby. Without another word, Marleene gently settled Dustin into his uncle’s arms. The baby snuggled against his chest, and Harry felt an unexpected, budding love bloom inside him.
‘He’s beautiful,’ Harry murmured, spellbound, before looking up at Dudley. ‘Congratulations.’
Dudley smiled broadly.
‘Thanks, cousin.’
After Dustin’s birth, the cousins decided to meet twice a year — once around Christmas and once in the summer — so their children could have some contact with one another. Harry and Ginny had Albus and Lily, while Dudley and Marleene had only one more child, a boy named Noah.
The years passed slowly, until Harry could consider himself to have a decent relationship with his cousin. It was not exactly close, but it was no longer awkward either. He could not say the same of his aunt and uncle, whom he had not seen since Dudley’s wedding many years before.
Then one day, he received a letter from a devastated Dudley informing him that his mother had died, and that he wanted Harry to attend the funeral.
‘I have no idea what to do, Gin,’ Harry confessed, sitting at the kitchen table with Dudley’s open parcel in front of him. ‘He’s probably only being polite. I seriously doubt Aunt Petunia would have wanted me there, and I’m sure Uncle Vernon doesn’t want me there either.’
Ginny shrugged.
‘I think you should go. As bad as your relationship with your aunt was, I doubt you’d ever forgive yourself if you didn’t attend her funeral. You can avoid being near your uncle. And more importantly, your cousin needs you.’
Harry sighed.
‘I don’t know…’
He moved the small box a little closer, wondering what his cousin could possibly have sent him besides the letter itself, before his breath caught in his throat.
It was a small blue baby blanket.
Harry recognised it from his dreams. It was the blanket he had arrived in at his aunt and uncle’s house. Harry’s parents had touched that blanket. At last, he had something from his childhood that represented nothing but the love his parents had had for him.
Thanks to Dudley.
‘All right,’ Harry concluded hoarsely. ‘I’ll go.’
It was every bit as awkward as he had expected. He knew hardly anyone at the funeral, and the few people he did know were not exactly his cup of tea, so he tried to be as inconspicuous as possible to avoid speaking to anyone. Harry hid among the other mourners and watched his aunt being buried with a strange emptiness in his chest. He could see Uncle Vernon in the distance, weeping bitterly against Dudley’s shoulder, while Dudley tried to comfort him through his own tears.
By the time the burial was over, Uncle Vernon had wandered away for a moment, guided by his sister, who was doing her best to bear the weight of her miserable brother. Dudley stood by the grave while his wife held him, and Dudley allowed himself to cry on her shoulder. Dustin and Noah stood silently beside him until their mother gently insisted that their father needed a moment alone. Then she led them away, leaving Dudley, now calmer, with his mother’s grave.
Harry took the opportunity to approach his cousin.
‘Hi,’ he murmured awkwardly.
His cousin’s red, swollen eyes met his.
‘I’m so sorry about Aunt Petunia.’
Dudley wiped away the tear tracks on his face rather fiercely and sniffed.
‘Yeah…’ he murmured, his voice breaking. He looked down briefly before meeting Harry’s gaze again. ‘Thank you so much for coming, Harry. I know it might not seem like it, but… I think she would have wanted you here. She never admitted it, but I think part of her always felt guilty for treating you so badly.’
‘I forgave her a long time ago,’ Harry admitted, hoping that would be comfort enough.
Dudley nodded slightly, grateful.
‘I think she would have liked to hear that.’
They were silent for several seconds before Dudley broke it.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly, his voice steadier now.
Harry blinked at him.
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated more clearly, looking him in the eye. ‘I’m sorry for being such an idiot when we were kids. I was cruel to you for no reason, for so many years. And yet you still let me be part of your life after the war. You didn’t have to. And you have no idea how much I appreciate it.’
Harry was silent for a few moments before saying, ‘You know I forgave you a long time ago too, don’t you?’
Dudley looked at him, and Harry felt as though he were finally seeing the real Dudley he might have known as a child. His small, vulnerable blue eyes looked back at him, honest, sad and grateful.
‘Thank you,’ he murmured.
Without warning, Dudley hugged him. Harry tensed for a moment before giving him an awkward pat on the back. His cousin stepped away and smiled weakly.
‘I need to go and check on Dad.’
Harry nodded.
‘I probably shouldn’t stay for lunch. I don’t think Uncle Vernon wants to see me.’
‘Probably not,’ Dudley admitted with an apologetic grimace.
Harry shrugged.
‘No worries. Go ahead.’
‘Right.’ Dudley patted him again. ‘Thanks for coming, cousin. I’ll call you later,’ he promised before walking away.
Harry waited until Dudley was out of sight before letting out a sigh.
He looked at his aunt’s grave and wondered whether, wherever she had gone, she had found peace — at least when it came to his mum.
He would never know.
But at least he knew that he and Dudley had found their own peace with each other.
And that was more than enough.