"Harry?
The dark haired man tensed and gripped the phone tightly as he recognized the voice on the line addressing him. The vintage rotary hardly ever rang, of course. Ginny and Harry only kept it for the few calls they received from Muggle friends and relations; and of course Ginny's Dad. When Harry had presented him with a simple, black candlestick phone and a phone number three Christmases ago, you'd have thought he'd received all the gold in Gringotts. After one high-pitched ring made Molly jump out of her skin and drop a load of potatoes she had been peeling with a simple levitation charm, she had forbade any incoming calls. But Arthur loved calling Godric's Hollow. He usually shouted into the earpiece for a few minutes to one of the kids, who happily shouted back.
But the man on the other end of the line was most definitely not Arthur, nor any other wizard.
"Dudley?" Harry asked incredulously. The cousins had a distant, awkward relationship at best. They had grown up in the same house, but not in any sense together. Dudley, a selfish, aggressive lump of a boy, had bullied Harry throughout their childhood and teenage years, with the full blessing of his parents, Harry's Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Learning that Harry was a powerful wizard, when the boys were 11, tempered Dudley's overt aggression with fear, but it only deepened the whole family's disdain for Harry and the entire magical community. When the Second Wizarding War reached its height 6 years later, and the Dursleys had to go into hiding for their own safety, Dudley and Harry reached a kind of détente. Dudley seemed to at last appreciate the peril his cousin was facing and dredged up some surprising, long dormant stores of sympathy and goodwill. He actually expressed concern for Harry's wellbeing and, in his own way, wished Harry well. The two men would never be friends, but after that day they were no longer exactly enemies, either. However, although they peacefully existed on "Christmas card terms," a phone call out of the blue on a random Thursday was utterly bizarre and unprecedented.
His brain bouncing uneasily back and forth between Uncle Vernon's angry, ugly face and Aunt Petunia's cold, resentful stare, Harry simply blurted out, "Who's dead?"
"Whaa…what?" Dudley stammered stupidly. "No one. No one's dead, at least I don't think so. Why, do you know someone who's dead?"
An awkward silence hung between them for a moment. Harry winced slightly and gritted his teeth.
"Oh, sorry, I…er…didn't mean…" Dudley fumbled, remembering that Harry knew loads of people who were dead, going all the way back to his parents.
Harry rolled his green eyes. "What's up Dudley? What do you want?" he asked, a bit more sharply than he meant to.
"I…um...I want to ask you round for tea."
"Tea?" Harry repeated flatly. He could think of a dozen things he'd rather do than have tea with Dudley: eat Hagrid's cooking; sit through one of Hermione's S.P.E.W. meetings; listen to little Lily's favorite toy play "The Itsy Bitsy Blast-Ended Skrewt" for the 100th time…
"…and make some sandwiches and of course I'll buy a cake or something." Warming to his subject, Dudley rattled on about tea. He seemed to think he could woo Harry with food. "So, um, you will come won't you? No need to bring anything. Do come over, Harry. Please."
Harry sighed inwardly. He remembered a mug of tea left outside his bedroom door several years ago-a kind gesture, at one of the lowest points in Harry's life, by the most unexpected of people.
"Sure, Dudley. Sure, I'll come over for tea."
"Brilliant!" Dudley exhaled what sounded to Harry like a sigh of relief. "Yes, that's good," the Muggle continued, almost to himself. "Let's say this Saturday at 3:00?"
"Let me just see if Ginny's free…"
"NO!" Dudley shouted, loudly enough to make Harry jerk his ear back from the receiver. "I mean, um, no need to bother her, right?" he laughed nervously. "Just you, Harry."
"Okaaaay, just me, then," Harry agreed, surrendering to the confusion, curiosity and slight concern now swirling in his mind. "Dudley, are you OK?' he asked.
"Ummmm," Dudley paused and Harry heard a faint crash in the background. "I…I'll see you on Saturday, Harry. I have to go now." Click.
Harry stood still in the living room, holding the dead receiver in his hand. His scar pointed straight down, as he scrunched up his brow, deep in thought.
"Who was on the phone?" Ginny asked.
Harry looked at her dazedly. He hadn't even heard her come in the room.
"Dudley."
"Dudley?" she repeated, her eyebrows arching up in surprise.
"He wants to have tea," Harry explained, his green eyes wide and blank.
Before she could stop herself, Ginny unconsciously puckered up her face like she'd just eaten a handful of sherbet lemons.
Her husband broke into laughter. "Don't worry, you don't have to go. He wants to see me alone."
Ginny opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "Nope, I can't even pretend I'm not thrilled it's you rather than us," she chuckled.
"Thanks," Harry replied tartly, with a laugh.
Ginny grew serious for a moment. "Oh God, do you think your Aunt and Uncle will be there?"
Now Harry's face registered panicked disgust. He'd been so intent on figuring out why Dudley wanted to speak with him, he hadn't even considered the possibility that Petunia and Vernon might be there.
Their reverie was broken by Albus Severus bounding into the room clutching a toy beaker of frothy, smoking emerald liquid smelling of anise and elderflowers.
"Mummy, Daddy—do you want to try my Elixir of Doom?" the black-haired boy cried proudly.
Ginny and Harry smiled indulgently at him. They had known their youngest son would enjoy his toy potions set when they bought it for his last birthday; they did not realize he would be utterly enthralled and spend hours concocting his own creations.
Harry excitedly knelt down to his son and met the boy's green eyes, identical to his own. "Is this truly an 'Elixir of Doom'?" he demanded, in mock-seriousness.
Albus Severus nodded vigorously while suppressing a grin.
His father tilted his head in mock skepticism. "Will it at least make me break out in spots, turn blue and go temporarily deaf by Saturday?" Harry asked hopefully, eliciting peals of laughter from the child.
Harry smiled up at Ginny. "If there's a chance Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon will be there, I'll try anything. " He shrugged and downed the potion in one gulp.