On a chilly morning, in January on a Thursday, a man in his mid-thirties by the name of Dudley Dursley was getting ready to go out the door to work. Dudley Dursley was a rather big man, although most of it was muscle, instead of fat as you would think upon first look, for he used to be a boxer in his youth - before he quit and took over his father's position in their drill company – and never stopped doing his exercises.
Immediately after putting his coat on, Dudley walked over to where his wife was in the kitchen and gave his wife – a no-nonsense woman by the name of Elaine, with black hair and a very slim and petite frame, who worked at a local library, a kiss on the cheek, before walking over to the highchair where his nine month old son, Ethan sat throwing food around the kitchen, to give him a kiss on his forehead as well.
Before walking out the door, he hesitated as to whether or not he should go and see if his daughter was alright (for she was sick with a cold that kept her from attending school), before he decided it was best if he headed out for work so he wouldn't get caught up in the morning traffic jams.
However, as he drove nearer and nearer to work, and farther and farther away from his home, he regretted that decision.
Although he would never admit it, Dudley Dursley's daughter was his pride and joy.
It might have been because she was his opposite in every way – quiet in the presence of others, but quite loud and boisterous when alone, observing, adventurous, and compassionate – or it could be the fact that except for himself and his mother, Petunia (who regularly doted on her when visited), she was often left alone.
When Alexandra (for that was her name – Alexandra Petunia Dursley) was born, he knew as soon as he held her that she was different from other children. If he was to be quite frank, it frightened him greatly. And that fear grew as she got older, when things – strange things – started happening to her and around her.
For example; one time when she was six months old, Dudley was trying to feed her some smashed peas, but she didn't like it. She became so angry that he was forcing the food on her, that the glass jar of peas in his hand exploded and cut his hand, and left smashed peas all over himself and his daughter.
Then another time, when Alex was a toddler, she wanted her mother to read another story-book to her before she went to sleep, but upon her mother's refusal, the book she wanted to read - which was all the way at the other end of the nursery - somehow appeared in Alexandra's tiny lap, leaving her mother shell shocked.
And yet another time – this time much more recently, at just three months ago – at the playground a few blocks away, Dudley had witnessed her daughter wilting a flower. She had walked up to it and stretched out, and it had immediately wilted upon her touch, causing Alex to grow saddened for a moment, before she decided to go on the swing set.
It was these things that constantly had Dudley in fear – fear of what may happen, or what could be. He always stayed in constant alertness around her, for he knew what might happen… what she might become.
He always felt it around her. Power, radiating off of her, and fear. Fear for her.
Although he would never admit it to you if you asked, he was a little bit afraid of her. But every time he saw her grin up at him, teeth still growing from having lost them, with her big blue eyes – his eyes, and her dark, curly, strawberry blonde hair in tangles and knots from having played outside all day from one of her 'adventures', his fear of her disappeared, and only fear for her, and love remained.
He called her 'His Little Pirate' often times, because of how sly and adventurous she was. When he would take her to the park, she would always head straight for the tower, so she could pretend she was a pirate on a voyage. She was quite the dare-devil, if he was honest with himself - many a time she got in trouble for jumping off of the towers at the playground. One time he asked her why she continued to do dangerous things, and she said 'Because the other kids don't think I'm good enough. If I do things like that, then I can show them that I'm just as good as them, if not better.'
And just like a pirate, she was very curious - oh, so curious. At home, she was always reading and looking up new things on his laptop. Marine biology and gardening were two of her favorite things to learn about, which Dudley thought quite odd, given the fact that she wasn't even eleven.
Yes, these little quirks were what kept him smiling in her presence, and kept him loving her and defending her to his wife when she would say something against his little girl.
Today was a special day for his little girl, and one that he wasn't sure if he was all that excited about, for today was her eleventh birthday. A part of him, the practical, no-nonsense part that his parents instilled in him, hoped that nothing out of the ordinary would happen today.
But the less practical, and more honest part – the part that his father told him to squash – told him that today, he may very well have to give up his little girl.
But no matter what, he decided walking into his work building, he would love his little girl. No matter what the future held. She was his little girl.