Author's Note:
This is intended to be a sequel (of sorts) to Second Chances. If you have not read the previous work then you may struggle to follow events in this story. I would recommend reading it first. I hope you enjoy this little tale. Thanks for reading, redlette ;)
Blast from the Past
Dudley Dursley had a very normal family, thank you very much. He had a job as head bouncer in a London nightclub, which was where he had had met his wife Dianne, and lived in a cozy terraced house in the London suburbs. He had two normal children, a normal pet cat and a normal car, which he drove to take his children to visit their very normal grandparents in Surrey at least once a month. No one would have guessed that Dudley grew up in the same house as a witch. Especially not such a famous witch as Harriet Potter.
This was probably because Dudley kept that part of his childhood secret from everyone, including Dianne. After all, Dudley had been awful to Harriet when they were children. He had tormented her and made her life a misery. He had been a spoilt little brat, who had hated sharing house space with Harriet and had bullied her relentlessly, as had his parents. He had known Potter was an orphan, left on the doorstep as a baby, but that had not made him sympathetic to her. He had copied his parents in treating her like a servant and had made her his personal punchbag until they were eleven.
He wished he could say that he had stopped hitting her because he grew up and realised that hitting girls was wrong, but it had been because they had discovered that she was a witch. Naturally his parents, who were also very normal, had forbidden her to speak of her magic and had lived in constant fear of anyone discovering what she was. Things had changed for Dudley over the years and, after Harriet had saved him from a dementor when they were fifteen, Dudley had realised that he'd misjudged her. Although they weren't close these days, Dudley still had a grudging respect for her and had exchanged a few letters with her since he had reached adulthood and moved away from his parents home. He had never mentioned his witch cousin to his wife or children, after all who would believe him anyway.
It was early on a July morning and it was already getting light outside. Dudley was just returning from his shift at the nightclub and was feeling tired and irritable. He had meant to refuse admission to a group of oddly dressed men that night, but had ended up letting them in and buying them all a drink. It had made him feel quite grumpy and determined not to let them in if they came again, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what they looked like. He groaned as he levered himself out of his car and stretched. He noticed a brown owl perched on the garden fence, hooting dolefully, and he frowned at it. He was no animal expert, but he was pretty sure owls were usually only out in the dark. This owl seemed particularly brave, simply hopping out of his reach when he tried to shoo it away, and it ruffled it feathers. He knew Potter had used owls to communicate with her friends from school, but she always used the normal post when she wrote to him. Dudley decided it must just be a pet that had escaped from a local breeder and ignored it, walking up his front path to put his key in the door.
On the mat was a familiar looking envelope. It was addressed to:
Mr Maxwell Dursley,
Front bedroom,
8 Heron's Rise,
Barnet,
London.
The sound of a gigantic man knocking down a door on a windswept island echoed through Dudley's mind and he shuddered. Why on earth would Max be receiving a letter like Potter's? Surely Max wasn't like Potter? Max was Dudley's eldest son and today was his eleventh birthday. Dianne was taking the kids out with their friends today while he slept and this evening they would have a family party before he went to work. Max had been talking about going to the skate park all week and would no doubt be up early. Dudley wasn't sure he could face this conversation until he had had some sleep. He trudged upstairs holding the letter and quietly entered the bedroom he shared with Dianne. He put the letter on his bedside table while he got ready for bed and climbed under the sheets, careful not to wake his wife. He stared at the letter for a long time, before putting it in his drawer and falling asleep.
XXXXXX
Dudley woke to a quiet house. He checked the time, almost five in the evening, that meant that Dianne and the kids would be home soon. Dudley jumped up and dressed quickly, before going downstairs to hang the banners and balloons for Max's birthday. He had just finished putting all the wrapped gifts on the kitchen table when they arrived home.
"Daddy!" yelled Violet, his nine year old daughter, throwing herself into his arms.
He picked her up and spun her round, setting her back oon her feet giggling.
"You should have seen me Dad," Max babbled excitedly, "I did a full three-sixty, and a kick-flip, and a somersault and I didn't fall off once."
"The man there didn't believe it was his first time skating," Violet grinned, "it was almost like he was flying."
Dudley's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch.
"How did you know how to do those tricks then son?" he asked.
"I've seen them on TV and I just thought I can do that, and I did." Max said with a shrug, taking off his jacket. "It's like that time at school when I wanted to climb that really tall tree, I just sort of did it, but I don't know how."
"Neither did the teachers," giggled Violet, "it was funny when they called the fire brigade."
Dudley remembered the incident clearly, everyone had scolded Max for getting so high in the tree and getting stuck, but no one could figure out how he managed to get up there. There was also the time when Max was little and he had fallen off a climbing frame, he should have been injured but there wasn't a mark on him. Violet had said that he had 'floated like a feather', but they had dismissed that as a little girl's imagination. He could remember other strange things happening over the years, now he thought about it.
"Can we open my presents now Dad?" asked Max, and Dudley looked up at his son's excited face.
"Sure son," he smiled, "and then we'll do your cake." he ruffled the boy's blonde hair and they sat down to the birthday tea. After the cake there would be a fairly tricky discussion about a letter, but he would deal with that after the cake.
XXXXXX
Dudley was enjoying a slice of birthday cake and a cup of tea when there was a knock at the front door.
"I'll get it!" bellowed Max, thumping down the stairs at high speed.
Dudley smiled at Dianne and then got to his feet to check who it was. In the doorway stood an elderly but severe looking woman, with glasses and her white hair done in a tight bun. Despite her age she stood straight with no walking stick in sight. She was dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, in a beige tartan pattern, and wore what appeared to be a cape around her shoulders. Dudley felt a sinking feeling.
"Can I help you at all madam?" Max asked politely, holding the door.
"Maxwell Dursley I assume?" said the woman, in a Scottish accent while peering over the top of her spectacles. "And you must be Dudley Dursley."
"Unk." managed Dudley.
"I apologise for dropping by unannounced," said the woman, "but when our first letter went unread we thought it advisable for me to visit personally. We obviously wanted to avoid any...incidents like before." she arched her eyebrows at him and he gulped.
"Sorry," he managed, "please, come in. I have a feeling this could be a long conversation."
"Who is it Dud?" called Dianne, as they walked into the sitting room, Max in the lead and looking confused.
"Allow me to introduce myself," said the woman, "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have come to explain your son's letter to you."
"What letter?" said Dianne, Max and Violet. Dudley ran his hand through his hair and looked at the floor.
"I was going to give it to him." he sighed. "I just remembered all the trouble when Harriet got hers and-"
"Your cousin Harriet?" said Dianne, in surprise. "What has she got to do with this?"
Dudley looked at McGonagall for help, but she just gave a thin lipped smile. He looked around at the curious faces of his family and took a deep breath.
"My cousin Harriet is a witch," he said quietly, "and it seems that so is Max, well, a wizard.
"Don't be ridiculous Dud," laughed Dianne, shrilly, "there's no such thing as magic."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow and disappeared. There was a tabby cat sitting primly where she had been standing. It had black, spectacle-like markings around it's eyes. It swished it's tail and then, just as suddenly, McGonagall was standing there again, smiling slightly.
"Awesome!" laughed Max, "can I learn to change into an animal?"
"Some wizards and witches can," McGonagall told him seriously, "but it's very advanced magic."
"Are you sure I'm really...I mean, there hasn't been some sort of misunderstanding has there?" Max asked, biting his bottom lip. "I can't do magic, I'd know wouldn't I?"
"No mistake Mr Dursley," smiled McGonagall, "and I'm sure you must have done things that you can't quite explain, things that people may have called strange."
"Like the skatepark." squeaked Violet, excitedly. "Oh wow! My brother is going learn magic. Now anyone who is mean to me will be turned into a slug."
"I'm afraid not Violet," said McGonagall kindly, "Max will not be allowed to use magic outside school and not in front of muggles, that's non-magical people." she explained at their blank looks. "There are laws and rules in our world designed to keep it secret from the non-magical community. You must agree never to discuss it with anyone who is not already aware of it."
"How did Max become a-a wizard?" asked Dianne, having just recovered enough to speak from the shock of a grown woman turning into a cat in front of her. "Is it from Dudley's cousin?"
"Harriet's mother was a muggle born witch, but Dudley's mother wasn't." McGonagall said. "It has been known for magic to lie dormant and skip a generation, but then it is also common for witches and wizards to appear in a family line with no previous evidence of magic. What's important is that Max will be fully integrated into our world where his gifts can be trained and improved. Naturally there are books and other materials that must be purchased."
"Where do we get these types of book?" Dudley asked.
"As you are a muggle family an escort will be provided to take you to Diagon Alley to purchase supplies," McGonagall nodded, "possibly Hagrid?"
"You don't mean that giant do you?" said Dudley, turning white and clutching unconsciously at his backside. "Can't anyone else take us?"
"Would it be better if I asked Harriet to show you around?" she said with a smile. "That way she can explain everything to your family and Max can meet some other magical children. I believe she has five of her own now, and there are the Weasley's and the Malfoy's-" she realised she was rambling and stopped herself.
"Yes," said Dudley faintly, "I think Potter might be a better option."
"Oh it's Potter-Snape now," smiled McGonagall, "but I'm sure she will be only too pleased to help out. I shall owl her immediately and she will be in touch. Your equipment list and train ticket are in your letter, Max. I look forward to seeing you in September."
"Yes Professor," Max gasped, a huge grin on his face, "and thank you."
"My pleasure young man." she said to Max, and then to Dudley and Dianne, "Harriet will explain everything."
"So will Dudley." Dianne said, shooting Dudley a 'look'.
"I'm sure he will." McGonagall with a smirk, and then she disappeared with a crack, making them all jump.