Dudley Dursley looked uncomfortably at his watch. It was ten until two, and he was due to be at his cousin's house for lunch at three. He never really liked going to Harry's house; which contained a world of magical items he would never be akin to. But ever since the magical world had that entire fiasco in which he and his parents were tucked away for an entire year, he tried to maintain pleasantries with Harry. Besides, his son Damien who was nine and the same age as James enjoyed their play dates together.

"Andrea, I'm taking Damien to Harry's for lunch," said Dudley.

"Have fun sweetie," she said as she planted a wet kiss on his cheek, and then proceeded to fold Damien's shirt collar back. Taking his son's hand he walked him to the car, and ensured he had his seat belt on. It was a long forty-five minute drive to a secluded little neighborhood full of odd looking houses; Harry's house having strange little critters running around the garden in the front.

"How come we don't have those things dad," asked Damien, gazing upon the strange looking creatures.

"Because we are lucky," responded Dudley, hurrying his son up to the door, "Now make sure you're polite, say please and thank you, and don't hit James if you boys get into an argument." Giving the door a swift rap, he was quickly greeted by Harry's wife.

"Nice to see you again Ginevra, I've brought Damien along to play with James." Ginny's face broke into a tight smile,

"Great, I'll call him down," turning her head, she let out a shockingly loud yell, "James, Damien is here." Damien made an attempt to rush past Ginny to greet James, but he was quickly apprehended by his father pulling him back by the collar,

"Where are your manners Damien? Say hello to your aunt."

"Hello Aunt Ginny," he said abashedly gazing at his feet.

"It's all right Damien; you can go up to James's room. Dudley, why don't you come into the kitchen while I go get Harry?" Dudley stepped into the strange little kitchen which was decidedly much messier than Andrea's kitchen at home. He gave an inward snort, for a race of people who only needed to flick their wands to clean something; he would've thought they would have been able to clean their kitchens a little better. He could smell the chicken stewing in the pot on the stove, which was curiously lit with neither gas light, nor electricity, but rather a miniature fire blazing beneath the burner. He always found Harry's house to be so antiquated. Despite having magic, wizards were clearly behind the times… his cousin still wrote with quills and ink for goodness sake, and he knew for a fact that every wizard still had their mail carried by owls. The owls he found most ridiculous of all. One would think that they could find a better way to magic mail to one another. Perhaps he just hated the entire system because for Damien's seventh birthday, Harry and James had presented him with an owl of his own just so he could correspond with James. Now Dudley was in charge of cleaning a nasty smelling owl's bird cage once a week.

"Hey Dudley," Harry's voice broke into Dudley's musings, "Sorry it took me a while, I was trying to settle Lily down for her nap." Dudley peered at his cousin; in all his years he had never taken Harry as the paternal sort. He seemed to always be thirsting for an adventure, of course his cousin would try to tone it down by stating that trouble always managed to find him, but Dudley was fairly certain that Harry got a particular exhilaration from walking the line of danger. But here he was with three children, and settling toddler down for a nap; this was amusing to Dudley. He often wondered if the children were merely accidental by-products of late night romps with Ginny.

Meanwhile, Dudley had planned every single detail with Andrea when it came to the conception of Damien. The couple had gone through every conceivable test to make sure their child would be born free of disease or deformity.

"No worries," muttered Dudley, "Must be hard with three children."

"You wouldn't believe. But it's nice to have a family."

Dudley gave an inward grimace. He thought that Harry's comment about it being nice to have a family was a jibe at the life he had at Privet Drive as a child. Admittedly he realized he had been a little less than hospitable towards his cousin, but they had after all given him shelter when he had none. Never-the-less, there was a pang of guilt in Dudley's conscience, as he realized that this must be Harry's first time in experiencing a family that truly loved him. Dudley was certainly grateful towards his cousin, but that was the extent of it, he didn't actually feel any true love towards him.

"Well I expect that Damien gets into enough trouble for three children sometimes, especially with his bird. He'll let the blasted thing fly all over the house, and its feathers fall all over the place. The other day I was driving to the bank when I see two feathers sticking out of my coat pocket."

"I guess I'm just so used to them by now. Ginny and I share an owl, and the boys share one as well. When Lily gets older she'll have to start sharing with the boys, they're going to be thrilled."

At this precise moment, the two men were interrupted by eight year old Albus careening in on his toy broomstick, a frightened look upon his face. Dudley looked appalled at the child hovering off the ground, and seeking refuge behind his frame.

"Al what's wrong? You know we don't play with the toy broomstick indoors." Said Harry, getting up to lift Albus from the toy broom.

"James and Damien are chasing me. I had no choice but to get on it and…" Sure enough, James and Damien came running into the room laughing and panting. And like clockwork, Ginny appeared as though she were able to smell the trouble. She grabbed James by the scruff of his robes,

"James, why is it that every time Damien comes over you feel the need to play 'Albus-Hunting'?"

"Aw mum, it was just some good fun," he said abashedly looking at the floor.

"No it's not very well good fun, when your poor brother might bump his head on the furniture from trying to get away from you two. And what's more is that your father just got Lily to go to sleep, what if you wake her up?"

Dudley meanwhile was fixing Damien with a firm gaze, but inwardly recalling his youth, and his days of "Harry-hunting." Mind you, his parents had never chastised him for such a game.

"Damien, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry Albus," said Damien in a thoroughly dull manner. Meanwhile Albus was still looking slightly scared. Once James and Damien were released from their strictures, Albus hung back and crawled upon his father's lap. Ginny looked disapprovingly at him,

"Albus, don't you think you're a little too old to be getting on Harry's lap," growing up with so many brothers, Ginny was unused to displays of babyishness from boys, for if it ever occurred at the burrow, one of the boys would quickly call it out. Harry meanwhile, never having grown up with children, seemed to not really pay too much mind to the developmental process of his children, and accepted Albus's infantile behavior as something that was normal.

Albus looked reproachfully at his mother; she merely sighed and began to tend to the boiling chicken.

"Al, why don't you go play with Damien and James?" Albus looked at his father as though he had taken a leave of his senses. Did Harry seriously think that making James and Damien apologize would stop them from tormenting him?

"I'd rather stay here with you and Uncle Dudley… besides, Damien keeps sparking me." Dudley's ears perked,

"What do you mean, sparking you?"

"When he pokes a finger at me, it sparks, like when you slide down a slide."

"Was he dragging his toes on the rug, or rubbing his clothes on something to make static?" Asked Dudley in a logical fashion.

"No, he was just poking and sparking, a yellow spark. James kept asking how he was making it, but Damien said he wasn't sure, so he just kept sparking me, and I don't want to play with them anymore."

"Very well then," said Harry, "Then why don't you make yourself useful and help your mum with dinner."

Dudley meanwhile was sitting in his chair as though a huge blow had been dealt to him.

"You don't think Damien could be…" He couldn't complete his statement, but Harry understood.

"Has he done anything like that before?"

"Well there was the time he didn't want to eat his vegetables, and the minute Andrea turned her back, she said the veggies simply were stuck to the bowl, and no amount of force could scoop them out. But we thought maybe it was because we were using the cheap silverware, something had gone wrong with it… we eventually threw away the bowl. Is that what it means," questioned Dudley, looking positively alarmed, "Do your children do these things?"

Harry almost laughed at the expression on his cousin's face,

"You wouldn't believe the kind of trouble three wizarding children can create! Why just the other day, Lily who is only six managed to get Ginny's prize quaffle out of its specially locked case, with no explanation as to how or why. And Al has managed to find some bizarre ways of hiding from James when he's tormenting him... Then James, from the time he was two, anytime he would throw a tantrum, things would just break. Whatever object was nearest would just snap when he would tantrum… My glasses on several occasions."

Dudley looked dumb-founded.