It had been more than 20 years, but he still remembered the letter that had arrived at Number Four, Privet Drive. The spidery handwriting in green ink, the wax seal embossed with a strange coat of arms with the even stranger motto underneath it. The way it had been met with outrage and fear. How it had really been the herald of a hidden world of witches and wizards and magical beasts. The very thing that had changed his life forever.
And now it was here, in his home, addressed to his daughter, who had turned eleven only a week ago. He continued to stare at it, still in the same state of disbelief he'd been in when it first arrived. Only after he heard the door open and the pitter-patter of small feet did he move. He walked up to his daughter's room, panic causing the letter to shake in his grip. With a hesitant hand, he pushed open the door.
She had a bunch of wildflowers in her arms, her eyes closed as she buried her face in them, her expression calm and peaceful as she breathed in their scent. After a moment, she pulled back and dropped them, an excited grin turning up the corners of her mouth as the flowers evaporated in a golden shower. So great was her fun that it took the clearing of her father's throat to break her from her reverie. She ran to him, jumping into his arms, giggling with joy.
"Daddy, did you see what I did?! Did you, Daddy, did you?!" She pointed to the carpet where traces of gold stuck to the polyester. "I did that and yesterday I made the flowers turn into butterflies."
Now he couldn't speak. Already, she was so comfortable with using magic. Handing her this letter would help her develop her abilities, make her stronger. And like his father before him, it frightened him. His father would have destroyed the letter. His father would have attempted to squash the magic out of her.
But he was not his father.
He set her down and kneeled, her eyes level with his. She looked so much like her mother: the same curly dark hair, the same rosy lips, the same almost-elfin look of her high cheekbones and straight nose. Only her eyes had come from him, a beautiful cornflower blue. He put a large hand on her shoulder.
"Daisy, honey, there's something you need to see."
He handed the letter to her, his heart pounding as her small hand closed over it. She turned it over and broke the seal, pulling 3 sheets of parchment from it.
Instead of waiting for her to read it, he went back downstairs, heading straight for the phone in the kitchen. There was a call that needed to be made, one he thought he would never have to even consider making.
With a relenting sigh, he took the phone from its cradle and held it to his ear, punching in the number he had memorized but never had reason to call. At least, not before today.
It rang twice before a man answered on the other end.
"Hello?"
He took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fist, before he spoke.
"Hello, Harry? It's Dudley."
There was complete silence for quite some time, leading Dudley to believe that Harry had hung up. He was about to do the same when he heard, "Hello, Dudley. How're you and Elena?"
"Oh, Elena's gone," He tapped his fist against his leg as anger welled inside him briefly at the thought of his unfaithful wife. "Ran off with some dodgy-looking bloke. McLaggen, I think his name was."
"Oh...I'm sorry to hear that."
More awkward silence. Harry cleared his throat.
"Well, nice talking with you, Dud-"
"I just called to tell you that Daisy got her Hogwarts letter today."
He paused for a moment, trying to shake the disbelief he himself felt, before the next words tumbled from his lips.
"I know that I made your life a living hell when we were growing up. I regret every single wrong I ever dealt you. And if this is fate's way of righting them, then I'll do whatever I have to to give my daughter the chance to become as great as her Uncle Harry."
He said all this very fast but coherently, one of the things his father had never been any good at. Confessing to wrongdoing had been another. Dudley breathed shakily, feeling the phone start to slip from his grasp and he hung up before Harry could respond. But somehow, in his heart of hearts, he knew that he'd been forgiven. And this was the start if something much more spectacular than he could imagine.