It was precisely 8:31 am on the 15th of July when Penrith Dursley's life changed. The minute hand on her flower patterned clock had a funny habit of stopping at 31 minutes past the hour, so, in fact it had actually been 8:31 for around 5 minutes. But that is besides the point.

Her father was still asleep, snoring, or as Penrith put it, herding elephants, in the room across the hall. She had always been told that on Saturdays it was forbidden to wake parents before 11 am. Her dad always told her that serious thing would happen if he were to be woken before then. She had asked him once during a football match what would happen if she woke him up before the eleventh hour, but he just slowly turned his head to her and stared directly at her for 5 seconds. Not moving one muscle. His mouth quivered a little and she coiled into her football cardigan knowing that she should never disturb him during the football as well.

The morning on the 15th of July was not a particularly special morning. The weather presenters had predicted a fine, clear day with one or two clouds speckling the vibrant blue sky. Outside, some newly licensed drivers were testing out their wheels and came screaming down the quiet suburban street. The neighbours at number 17 had returned from a hiking camp the previous day, some small granite rocks had fallen out of the grooves in their hiking boots and onto the road where the young drivers were testing out the torque on their car. One of the wheels flicked up a few of the small rocks tossing them into the air. One landed in Mrs Crawley's woven bread basket as she was stepping out of her front door on her way to get the groceries. Not one to stay silent or be polite she cursed loudly at the hoons before continuing on her way. Penrith had always wished she had a grandmother like her. Petunia wasn't really much of a grandmother. She wasn't cool like the Crawley kid's grandmother. She just took care of Vernon all day, baked cakes, played Bridge and told Penrith off for using unladylike like language.

Mrs Crawley told her grandkids that she used to be part of a Gun Club but gave it up when she "accidentally" shot her best friend in the leg after she found out that her best friend had an affair with her husband. When her seven grandkids were growing up she had taken all of the things out of the second bedroom and transformed it into a place where the kids could hang out at her place and not be bored. Inside was a 50 inch plasma television, all of the gaming consoles on the market and the best games. The double door cupboard was filled with boardgames and two of the biggest, comfiest couches were squeezed into the room. For reasons unknown to Penrith, it was dubbed, the Chicken Wing and Penrith was allowed there any time she liked.

The second small rock had been flung high into the air and landed up on the roof of the Dursley's house. The stone had flicked up onto the roof and hit the the football that had been resting there for several months. The small rock bounced of at an angle which dislodged the football causing it to climb out of the gutter and bounced down onto the pavement below, right outside Penrith's window. Had the angle of the rock been one or two degrees lower the pressure against the ball would have been too great and forced the ball to explode.

It was on this morning when Penrith Dursley would wake up and her life would change forever.

But it was not the football bouncing loudly outside her window that would wake her up, nor Mrs Crawley's cursing, not even the hoons racing up and down the street or the mad clock in her bedroom that would wake her up.

At 8:31 am as the third rock was scattered down the street a single letter was delicately shoved through the letter flap of the front door of number 15 Peckering Street. The home of Dudley Dursley. As it happened, the Dursely's had a cat which liked to sleep by the front door, and on this morning the cat was rudely awakened by a letter to the head. Taken by surprise, the cat, called Flavia by humans, raced into Penrith's room and knocked over a picture frame on the windowsill. Startled by the sound of cracking glass, Penrith Dursley woke instantly to discover the picture of Miriam Dursley broken on the floor.

"Oh Ivi, really! What did you do that for! I know she's not your mother too but you can't just go and break her every time you get scared. Scaredy-cat!"Penrith said jumping off the bed to pick up the pieces of broken glass.

It is at this point that it should be explained that Penrith Dursley is not the daughter of Dudley Dursley. She was 4 years old when she first met Dudley and Miriam when they came to visit the orphanage where she had lived. A few months after that, shortly after she had turned 5 Dudley came to the orphanage again, alone, and that time he knelt down next to Penrith and softly asked her.

"Penrith, would you like to come home and stay with me?"

She grinned at him because she knew that he was going to be her Dad. She had watched so many other kids come and go and now it was her turn. Dudley gave a little smile in return.

"Is it alright if I call you Penny?"

"Is it alright if I call you Dad?" Penrith replied grinning like the cheshire cat.

Miriam had died shortly after the first time they had met so they never really knew each other but Penrith still liked to think that Miriam would have been her mother, so she kept a picture in her room as respect.

Penrith picked up the picture frame off the floor and shooed Flavia away. She saw that Mrs Crawley was walking past on the way to the shops and decided to say to sneak out the front door and surprise her. Carefully sneaking past Dudley's door she placed the glass shards in the bin and headed to the front door. However she was sneaking to the front door the letter placed on the ground caught her eye. At first she thought that she would pick it up after she said good morning to Mrs Crawley but then she noticed that written in cursive lapis ink was her name. The letter looked important even though it didn't look like the bills or receipts that Dudley always received in the mail. It couldn't have been from one of her friends, no one she knew could write that elegantly, and they all used email anyway. Curiously and slowly she bent down and picked up the letter reading the address again slowly. Everything was correct, it was addressed to her specifically. She turned the envelope over to open it and discovered a large, violent red wax seal on the back. Slightly startled, as she was a daughter of the 21st century and wax was even uncommon, she stared hard at the pattern and grooves embedded in the seal.

"Huh..."she said softly to herself. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and the cheeky smile that was going to grace Mrs Crawley had long disappeared. What the heck does that mean, she thought to herself.

Hastily she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter that was inside.

Dear Miss Penrith Dursley,

It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted into the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Witchcraft and Wizardry?

Myself and the Headmaster of Hogwarts will come by to your house at 1:00 pm on Saturday the 15th of July to discuss your future with us at Hogwarts. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1.

Sincerely,

Estelle Ganthum,

Deputy Headmistress

Penrith read with confusion and bewilderment, someone was having her on. There was no such thing as magic. It was all just smoke and mirrors. She decided that it was probably a joke letter that someone had put in the mail. Whoever it was, they had gone to a lot of trouble.

"Probably Mrs Crawley." Penrith giggled to herself as she read the rest of the letter.

"A Thousand and One Magical Herbs and Fungi, what a laugh, Dudley'll get a kick out of this one." She said as she tossed the letter aside, jumped on the couch and turned the television on. It was going to be a lazy saturday. What a load of rubbish, Penrith thought to herself, magic! She snorted, shaking her head.

And the clock in her bedroom was still 8:31.


A/N: This is my first fanfiction (that I decided to publish) although I have been writing for a long time. I prefer working with original characters but I really liked this story idea, so I therefore apologise in advance if some of the characters seem out of character. Especially those like Harry Potter and Ginny, who will feature a bit. In my opinion, I believe that Dudley changed a far bit in after the events of the war, I believe that he became a much better person and finally saw that his parents taught him all the wrong things. I believe that his main priority would be to forget what happened when he was younger and live his life. So for me, Dudley is not out of character.

Thanks for taking the time to read!