I just felt like writing something with Dudley. Hope you like it!

Harry and I were never the best of friends. And admittedly, it was my entire fault. Harry never did anything to me, but I bullied him, he was my personal punching bag. It's not something I'm proud of. I guess I was kind of jealous. Harry was always a great man and I will never forget that he saved not only me, but all of us. First it was those freaky Dementors, I still remember how he chased them away from me, only seconds after I had teased him.

Then it was the whole war thing. He said we had to go away, disappear, so Voldemort couldn't find us. Dad was so mad because we were chased from our own house, but I trusted Harry, I knew he didn't want this house even if we donated it to him. But there was something more, Mum was scared. Not like in scared that the neighbors would find out or that a car would drive across our lawn. No, she was really truly scared, for our lives. I knew it had something to do with the aunt I've never met. And that made me scared, really scared.

For nine months we were hiding, listening to news the wizards and witches came with. The Bad Side were looking for Harry, trying to kill him, but neither them or the Good Side knew where he was. He was seen, but he always got away, just outside the reach of the Bad Sides claws. At those nine months, he succeeded in breaking into the Ministry of Magic, saving three people and some weird creature out of some basement, and robbing a wizard bank before escaping on the back of a dragon. I remember being terrified that he would get caught and killed, because one thing I and my parents had very clearly understood, Harry was the only one that could end this, save us.

Then we heard about a battle at his school and everyone went there, leaving us behind. At dawn the news came, Harry had succeeded! He had killed the most evil, powerful wizard ever, a wizard that had been on the loose for decades.

I still can't believe that he did all that. He was even younger than me, only with a few months but still. I sat like a coward in a little cottage while he battled his way to the end. People were dying, his friends were dying, but he didn't stop, didn't give up. He's a true hero, even if he says he's not, I know the truth.

And as I watch him now, high up in the air on a broom, laughing together with his family and friends, my daughter included. I realize that the world never were luckier than the day Harry was born.

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