Disclaimer: I gain nothing but satisfaction and perhaps a few reviews.
A/N: This is a companion piece to 'Sharp is the Knife', dealing primarily with Dudley and Juliana, but Piers and Hermione will feature in certain sections.
"between myself and me"
yeah I feel better today, I think that shit was just a phase,
my whole outlook's changed, I've even stopped feelin' strange
/Either Way – The Twang/
||1||
Dudley Dursley knows he's nothing special.
Despite his mother's exclamations to the contrary, he's always been very aware of his dullness and maintained a very blatant front as a result, using his formidable size to threaten his way through the schoolyard.
So when he arrives at Smeltings in the year of nineteen ninety-one, festooned in maroon tailcoat and orange knickerbockers ('Caveat Smeltonia' – they say the Old Boys bleed maroon and orange), Dudley works very hard to become the classmate on whom everybody will come to respect – or suffer the consequences.
The first three years see the fervent application of his Smeltings stick to the shins and hands of the other boys (a common pastime for all students at the school), and he comes out on top only because he can hit harder and operate more slyly – an after effect of years dealing with Harry – however, by the end of his fourth year, things aren't looking so good. Piers Polkiss, his oldest friend (the one who'd used to hold people's arms behind their back while Dudley hit them), has mellowed considerably, reverting from a pointy-faced, ratty character into a courteous, trendy, decent lad, and he isn't at all reticent in distancing himself from the nastiness on which Dudley has always thrived. His mate's abandonment cuts to the quick, because if Dudley needs anything it's cronies to back him up.
Defiantly, he ignores the sugar-coated criticisms that Piers has bravely laid upon him and it isn't until the annual school dance that he finds a real reason to change his ways.
Smeltings, like most long-standing institutions, has a sister school by the name of Selvedge's Ladies College with whom they share an elaborate ball at the end of each school year. Only fourth years and above are allowed to attend, and after a solid block of schooling, girls (real ones) are a welcome sight indeed. There are lots of stolen kisses and much spiking of the punch, and Dudley, in a truly West Side Story moment, looks across the dance floor to see the face of an angel staring straight into his soul (though perhaps glowering would be a more appropriate term). She's tremendously pretty in her shimmering gold mini-dress, and her brown hair is curled, and her eyes are the colour of coffee, glinting in the dim light of the disco.
Unfortunately for him, it's not a love-stricken gaze on her part. It's not even remotely akin to 'like'. Her dorm-mate's brother happens to be one Dudley's favourite victims and she's out for blood on their behalf.
"Dursley?" she drawls in revulsion, solely to confirm that she's cornered the right bullying scum.
"Yeah," he replies, trying to exude a cool, calm exterior. Privately she thinks he looks like a constipated whale.
"You're an arse," she tells him frankly. "You're a bully and thug and you pick on others to make yourself feel big. You disgust me," she hisses angrily. "And if you so much as breathe the wrong way at Nigel Pinkerton, you'll wish you'd never been born. Do I make myself clear?"
He's rudely surprised by her tone and her vehemence, and – for some bizarre reason that he doesn't quite understand at the tender age of fourteen – it hurts him badly to hear those words coming from her mouth; it's a real smack in the face. Truthfully, he's lucky it hasn't been a literal smack in the face (she considered it, but why miss out on a party when words are equally as effective).
A friend calls her away, and he discovers that her name is Juliana, but the rest of the night is plagued by the echo of her words in his mind, and the Saturday and Sunday that follow are just as haunted.
It's hard to believe that in the end it's this little wisp of a girl who manages to pierce the façade he's been building up for years, but it doesn't hurt either that she's quite possibly the loveliest girl Dudley's ever had the fortune of seeing. So he tones down the unpleasantness, and comes crawling back to Piers, and slowly, slowly, he finds himself with a handful of real friends, and, magically (god-forbid his father hears him use that word), by fifth year Dudley has succeeded in surrounding himself with a solid group of mates whose influence can only be described as calming on the heavy-set teenager. He evens manages to gain proper popularity (in the usual way boys do at boarding school: by providing those things which Aren't Allowed and becoming a sporting hero).
His new groups of friends consists of old mate Piers; Nick Huckleby, an athletic genius specialising in rugby who establishes himself as a firm friend only a few short weeks into term, even convincing Dudley to go out for the position of tighthead prop in the school rugger team (properly starting him on the road to better health and fitness that his mother has always wanted for him); and, finally, Joshua Neale, who is essentially part of a package deal with Nick, as it turns out, and is a mathematics whiz with a toned body and handsome face that begs people to dare comment on his chosen vocation.
||2||
Nearing the end of his fifth year, the spoilt, obese, lazy Dudley Dursley has been transformed to a civilised, robust, rugby-playing boy who goes more often by the nickname 'Ham' than his awful Christian name, the chummy moniker born in the change rooms after a very wet win against Eton in the schoolboy rugby.
He's mostly polite to people these days (barring his cousin Harry, naturally) and though his parents are surprised by the changes – both physical and personality-wise – the reports and acknowledgements he's receiving from Smeltings are enough to quell any overly intrusive questions on their part.
When they visit Aunt Marge she proudly declares him a prize stud, congratulates his parents, and plants a sloppy, extended kiss on his cheek that his father reimburses him for not thirty seconds later.
Harry just looks depressed and hides away in his room either oblivious or plain uncaring.
-:-
Dudley sees Juliana twice during the school year and he's pleased when her expression is befuddled, and smug when she concedes to smile at him during one of the matches, her eyes lingering just a second too long when she looks at his broad chest swathed in mud-covered, maroon-and-orange-striped rugby jersey.
The sweet sixteens pass uneventfully and it isn't until the end of year dance that Dudley meets her again; she's surrounded by a gaggle of friends and he's grateful when, of her own accord, she slips away from them on seeing his large form and crosses the room to engage in conversation.
"So," she hazards. "I hear you've changed tack since we last spoke."
Dudley grimaces slightly at the memory, but shrugs. "Someone gave me a wake-up call I couldn't afford to ignore."
Juliana gives a small, musical laugh and Dudley shoots her a lopsided smile.
"I'm glad," she tells him, and there is a moment (which he hopes she feels too) when she straightens his tie and pats down his lapel. It seems an unconscious move on her part. "I'm Juliana," she introduces herself and he gives her a sheepish grin.
"I know."
"And you're Dudley Dursley," she muses.
"Ham," he corrects. "I haven't been Dudley (except to my parents) since before I played rugby."
"Alright," she agrees, "Ham it is. Do you want to come and dance with me?"
He's surprised by her request, but stammers an affirmative and she pulls him happily into the pulsing dance floor. Dudley, despite an absolute abhorrence for dancing, enjoys himself immensely. Piers taps his nose knowingly when Dudley's eyes pass over him and they both know there'll be ribbing in the days that follow but Dudley can't bring himself to care.
By the end of the night, she's not just the pretty girl, Juliana, who kicked his arse into gear. She's Ju; a friend who one day might be something more.
||3||
Harry, home for the summer again, is grim (that is, even more-so than usual, which Dudley finds disconcerting), and this time things aren't sugar-coated (more's the pity), and between terror and, well, complete and utter panic Dudley is told to inform his friends that his father will be accepting a job in Perth, Australia. Really, they'll be spending this year in isolation, hiding from whatever beastly, unnatural creatures come looking for them out of the other place. He's never been more frightened in his life – and, for the first time he can remember, he's not only thinking of himself.
He shakes Harry's hand in farewell and says he hopes he doesn't die, but the look that slides over Harry's face seems, disturbingly, to say his cousin thinks that is wishful thinking.
Seventeen, and there's an unmistakable acceptance of death. Dudley is glad they are leaving.
At least, he is until he calls Ju to tell her that his family are disappearing for a while. The disappointment in her tone makes his heart ache and he thinks maybe he loves her, the revelation almost dropping him to his knees, and then there's nothing.
It's a year in a godforsaken town that seems to be stuck somewhere around the turn of the century with no news, no contact and no creature comforts. His mother is the only one who doesn't complain. He wonders why, and what she knows.
One night nearing Christmas, Dudley finally approaches her, naturally after his father has retired to bed. It wouldn't do to have him hear these questions.
"Mum," he says quietly. "I don't understand."
She looks to him, and there's a hardness there that he's almost sure is covering abject sorrow.
"What is there to understand?"
It's a biting retort, but she softens when she sees his stunned expression and whispers, "Oh, I'm sorry, my darling. I'm just on edge."
"But we're safe here, aren't we?" he asks.
"Safer than anywhere else," she admits, but doesn't look him in the eye.
The atmosphere is suffocating; sorrow and regret and fear have blended together, hovering over them and Dudley has to break the tense silence before it drives him mad.
"Is Harry going to die?"
Silence, and there are tears, he realises, threatening to fall from his mother's eye as she prepares to answer.
"He certainly thinks so," she confides quietly, "but I hope not. I've already lost a sister to that madman. I can't lose anybody else."
"Tell me about what's happening, mum," he begs. "Please; I can't stand it."
"The less you know the better," she says, but he's adamant and she gives in after only a minute of pleading.
"Fine," she cedes sharply, "but we speak frankly and we do not tell your father!"
They settle on the lumpy, uncomfortable lounge and Dudley feels as if his mother has shrunk to half her height; she looks fearful, lost and alone.
"The creature – the wizard – that killed my sister and her husband was a beast. He sought – seeks – dominion over every living creature, believing normal people, like us, to be nothing, solely because of our lack of 'power'," she says bitterly in a hushed manner, and Dudley feels this lack of power might have more to it, but he keeps silent. "In the seventies, just before you were born there were murders across the country; inexplicable and completely bizarre and nobody knew what was happening. But I guessed, even before Li- before your Aunt wrote me."
Dudley purposefully ignores the stutter as she once again mentions her sister. It's the most he's ever heard about his mother's family.
"He was executing normal people for fun, mostly, to purify the British Isles; destroying lives, wreaking havoc and ruin. It was awful," she continues before pausing, staring intently at her hands which are clenched and resting in her lap. "And now it's happening again."
"And Harry's fighting him?" Dudley seeks to know. His mother nods. "But he's only seventeen!"
"Seventeen," she repeats very quietly. "His mother was twenty-one."
The icy sensation that washes over the room reminds Dudley of monsters past (Harry saved him, he remembers) and he shudders. His mother is broken before him and somehow that hurts the most.
"Can't someone else do it? Why does it have to be Harry? He's just a kid," Dudley urges, adding softly: "Like me."
"The one thing I've always found true when it comes to magic," Dudley flinches at the use of the forbidden word, but his mother doesn't hesitate, "is that it runs hand-in-hand with destiny and fate."
Silence reigns again, and Dudley has the feeling that his mother would prefer to be alone, so he leaves as silently as possibly, head bowed, and falls that night into a troubled sleep haunted by invisible ghosts with sucking lungs and the hovering feeling of utter desolation.
He goes looking for a job the next day, realising that unless he has things to do he's going to go crazy, hidden away in this tiny town, worrying about all the people he left behind. He finds employment with a local stonemason by the name of Neil, surely because of his size, but learns many tricks of the trade over the course of his stay and even earns a decent sum. But most of all, the works exhausts him of a day, and by nightfall sleep comes and there are no dreams of the unnatural to disturb his slumber.
A letter arrives on May fourth, nineteen ninety-eight.
It's short and simple, and reads:
I'm alive. It's safe. We won.
Harry.
Dudley's father grumbles that it's about time, while his mother remains motionless; then, the barest hint of satisfaction arises in a tiny smile that leaves her face as quickly as it appeared.
Dudley doesn't know what to think except 'at least Harry isn't dead' and 'I should probably tell Neil I'm leaving'.
||4||
As soon as he's able, he tells his friends that he's coming home and surprises Ju by arriving on her doorstep the very same day he makes it back to Little Whinging (for someone who never saw girlfriends as a fixture in his life, he's certainly keen on making Ju a lasting attachment).
He attends her graduation three weeks later and in the heat of the moment swings her in his arms and kisses her fiercely. She can barely wrap her arms about his brawny body so instead they slip around his thick, rugby player's neck, and his hands are lost, tangled, in her blonde hair, her feet no longer touching the ground.
He realises, then, that there is nothing he wouldn't do for Juliana Eldritch.
In the weeks that follow, they decide on taking a 'Grand Tour' – a sabbatical, when all's said and done – with Nick and Josh and Ju's best friend Nicola (Piers claims work commitments and doesn't venture forth with them).
It's a summer vacation to Greece and Italy and maybe in a flight of fancy they'll visit Paris or Madrid, too. It's a whirlwind of travel and laughter and drinking and constant pestering about Dudley's sudden disappearance, and in the end he caves and tells them that they were hidden away because of the company kept by his cousin (yeah, the juvenile delinquent) and that it was too dangerous for them to be out in the open. It's hardly even a lie. The only disparity is that Harry never attended St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, because, actually, he's a wizard.
It's the first mention of Harry to Ju, though Nick and Josh both know of the elusive 'unstable' cousin, and at Ju's undisguised look of apprehension Dudley adds, "He doesn't live with us anymore, and apparently he's well out of trouble now." It seems to appease her enough for the matter to pass by them and be swept out of their minds by more important things, like stunning nature and beautiful cities and the ever-inching-closer sensation of love.
The Eiffel Tower; a moonlight boat trip along the River Seine; markets; lights; dancing – the adventure is coming to its end when they find themselves in Paris, and there is something there, something neither Dudley or Juliana can pinpoint, that wasn't there before.
The ring catches Dudley's eye before the idea even passes through his head.
It's platinum, with a gem of aquamarine nestled in a circle of diamonds, and as soon as he glimpses it in the window he sees it in his mind's eye resting on that finger on Juliana's hand and he knows incontrovertibly that she is the girl he's going to marry; she's the woman with whom he wants to spend the rest of his life.
It's worth every euro, he thinks, as he buys it without a second thought. Later than night, the group are all chatting away when the fairy lights turn on and the city is more beautiful than ever, and Dudley approaches his girlfriend from behind and with a polite 'excuse me' to Nicola, he grabs Ju 'round the waist, hefts her into the air, and amidst her riotous giggles deposits her beneath the ancient Parisian lamppost so it swathes her beautifully in light and he's falling in love with her for the three hundredth and forty-eighth time.
He drops to one knee and her eyes twinkle in understanding, and when her face lights up like she's never seen anything more gorgeous he's glad he listened to his heart with this ring and then they're kissing and clutching and holding because she's said yes at least six times already and he needs to slide it onto her finger and proclaim to the whole of Paris, the city of love, that they're going to be married.
Their friends are astounded and shake their heads, amused, but give sincere congratulations regardless and make a pointed effort not to disturb the love-birds room that night when they finally get back to the hotel.
Coming back to England, newly-engaged, is a bit of a fiasco (mostly on behalf of the parents, who think nineteen far too young for marriage) but they muddle their way through it and after only a month of persuasion there's progress on dresses and dates and glorious locations.
||5||
While they've been traversing the Continent, it seems Piers has been busying himself with a bird, so Dudley, Josh and Nick discover after arriving back in dreary, damp England. She's short and curly-haired, in a wild sort of way, and she's kind and just a little out of place when Dudley first sees her at the pub but then he's ushered off to get the drinks (by Ju – it's clear who wears the pants in that relationship, Josh mocks affably) and by the time he gets back with them the little brunette's taken his seat and all his fiancées attention. He grumbles good-naturedly that she's stealing all he's ever had, but Hermione, as he's introduced to her, just smiles apologetically and shrugs. After all, all's fair in pub politics – you leave for drinks, you lose your seat.
Dudley can see his fiancée wearing down the walls around bushy-haired, brilliant Hermione and he smirks behind his beer while Nick and Josh keep the entertainment levels high.
"Not bad," he says vaguely to Piers, who smiles crookedly back at him. "Thanks," he adds, too, because he really is grateful that Piers was smart enough to see that fork in the road, even if it took something a little more obvious (like, say, a girl?) to get his own arse into gear.
"No worries, mate," Piers waives, and solemnity is forsaken for fun.
"So, Ham," Hermione interrupts, a little giggly now. "Where's that name come from?"
"Ham? All Old Boys have to have a nickname," he informs her with much ado. "Especially when you're on the rugger team-"
"Or the cricket-" Nick inserts.
"Or the chess," Joshua snickers his own addition. "Can't not have a nickname when you finish at Smeltings."
Hermione looks amused, but she persists tipsily: "So, what's your real name?"
"Dudley," he replies with a tiny wrinkle of his nose. It's not that he hates it anymore, but he thinks it a little old fashioned and, well, what's wrong with normal names like Christopher or John?
"It's not that bad," Hermione consoles him, patting his arm. "I know a boy called Draco, and he's related to someone called Alphard."
"Seems you could've had worse," Nick jokes to Dudley. "God; Draco – what were his parents thinking?"
Hermione stays silent on the matter, and the talk moves to weddings (to the groans of the dynamic duo) and Piers and Hermione busy themselves with a thorough snog when the boys' protestations finally move the conversation to more general topics.
At the end of what has been a hugely enjoyable night, Ju is so far gone in hysterics that Dudley has to carry her – laughing into the crook of his neck - to the cab where they separate from the rest of the group. He isn't wrong when he thinks that he'll be seeing more of the curly-haired brunette – she and Ju just seem to have clicked – and their night ends with soft touches and the words 'I love you' whispered into the darkness.
||6||
Somehow, Dudley isn't a bundle of nerves the day of the wedding. He's calm, collected, and surprisingly relaxed for a groom who first met his fiancée when she was ripping into his entire persona. After months of preparation, mostly on the part of Ju (who's far better when it comes to colour coordination and style), the day finally arrives. With Piers, his trusty Best Man, by his side (Hermione is travelling with Nick and Josh since she couldn't be squeezed into the bridal party), Dudley dresses in his smart black suit and readies himself to wait the good hour and a half until the car is due to arrive for the church.
And then, it seems, he's standing before the pastor, listening to the opening notes of the music as the doors inch open to reveal Juliana, resplendent in an ivory gown. She was always going to take his breath away, but this is something else entirely; she's like a fairytale maiden, a goddess, and she's here to accept him; to marry him. (He'll deny to any man that asks that when he blinked it was to push back tears).
He can remember every detail but it feels like the momentous occasion has gone by in a haze of joyousness. He and Ju are suddenly being herded by well-wishers into a white Bentley, kissing once again for their friends and family, sealing what has been a wonderful wedding and beginning what will be an unforgettable reception.
The moment Dudley sees his cousin enter, he realises something is wrong. The way Harry seems so comfortable with Hermione, the ease they share in speech (though Hermione is slowly looking more and more discomforted); Dudley feels his gut sink as he guesses the only explanation possible. Forcibly, he pushes the thought away.
Ju's brother, Adam, is hosting very successfully, Piers disappears after a while to 'reacquaint himself with his girlfriend', and Dudley and Ju are lost somewhere in that love-induced cloud that seems to cling to all it touches. Things couldn't be better.
True to form, as soon as he thinks it, everything falls to pieces.
Harry approaches awkwardly to give his best to the young couple, and Ju is understandably nervous – Harry is a mysterious, dangerous delinquent to her, after all – but she soldiers bravely onward, exchanging words with him in the name of politeness, when Dudley's parents arrive on the scene. Typically, his father is displeased by the scruffy youth's presence, but his mother concedes to give an unsmiling hello.
"Hermione," Juliana cries out suddenly, catching sight of her friend by the doors. "Come and meet Dudley's parents and cousin."
The unwilling brunette is half-dragged by the little bride to where they are all uneasily standing by the Bridal Party Table.
"Mr and Mrs Dursley, this is our friend Hermione," she introduces. "Hermione, these are Mr and Mrs Dursley and Harry, Dudley's cousin."
"Nice to meet you," Hermione greets Dudley's parents nervously, and he realises that she's trying to play it cool and disappear as quickly as she can without incident, but then Harry comments congenially: "Oh, we know each other already." The always staunch Vernon Dursley twitches and looks sharply at Harry, his moustache bristling. "Hermione's a good friend of mine actually."
There are only two thoughts running through Dudley's head at this point (Juliana doesn't know about magic, and Hermione is a witch) but then Piers arrives and things go from bad to worse.
Harry's face is maelstrom of emotions and he spits dialogue at Hermione, something about a 'Ron' and 'what're you playing at?' and Dudley can only think: there'll be a fight in a minute if somebody doesn't give.
In a matter of seconds, Harry's delivered an ultimatum and stormed away, Hermione is fighting off tears and the rest of them are trying their damndest to catch up.
"Excuse my French," Ju finally exclaims, "but what the fuck was that all about?"
"I- I'm so sorry," Hermione cries, and after untangling herself from Piers' grasp she sprints away after Harry.
"Seriously," Ju repeats, utterly perplexed, "what the hell is going on?"
"Don't look at me," Piers growls, disguising hurt with gruffness. "I'm just as lost as you are."
"I thought Harry was at St Barnaby's Centre for Criminals, or whatever it was called," Ju expounds, turning to Dudley. "How are he and Hermione friends?"
"I- I didn't realise."
"What's going on?" she begs, utterly confused.
"It's complicated," Dudley says finally, because it really, really is, and he can't think of any better way to explain.
They work hard on making the rest of the reception a positive memory, but between Harry's explosive words, Hermione's tears and Piers' leaving, the most unforgettable scene is still, unfortunately, the fight between old friends and lovers.
Yet, somehow, they manage to find the romance when they enter the hotel room as Mr and Mrs Dursley and the messy midday is swept away in a tide of loving intimacy that takes them into the next day and lingers pleasantly over the newlyweds.
||7||
It's been weeks since either Dudley or Ju has spoken to Hermione, and Dudley has no idea if she's mended things with Harry or the Ron fellow, but knows that certainly she hasn't fixed things with Piers, because his modish mate is still wallowing and missing her profusely.
It's only when Dudley finally hears that Astrid – Nick's girlfriend – has succeeded in reuniting Hermione and Piers that he decides to make the effort to close the silence between them. If his best mate can forgive her, then he certainly should be able to, even if she did almost ruin his wife's big day.
He calls her up and they organise to meet for coffee and Hermione is a little apprehensive at first, but when she realises that he's all for forgiveness she agrees at once and delivers him a grateful hug when she arrives at their rendezvous, looking a little teary.
As they sit and talk over coffee and cake, Hermione sheds some light onto the situation, and Dudley tells her the truth – that she was stupid to think it could ever have worked – and Hermione agrees without issue. She informs him that she's sticking with one man, being Piers, and he's been wonderful, and gorgeous, and forgiving and a hundred other adjectives until Dudley has to stem the flow of words by interposing with a serious question, one that he's been considering for a while, but didn't have the confidence to ask of Harry: What happens if my children are magic. Except he doesn't say magic, he uses 'like you and Harry' instead, and Hermione raises an eyebrow in subtle remonstration until he finally corrects it: "What if they're magical."
"Are you planning on having children already?" Hermione asks first, leaving his question alone. "So soon – you're only just out of your teens."
Dudley shrugs. "Ju likes babies, and she's been hinting, but I was thinking more in the long run. She doesn't know about magic."
Hermione purses her lips. "I suppose I could…" she pauses, concentrating on her thoughts.
"The Statute of Secrey does make exceptions for family, and technically she's family to Harry now…" Hermione says slowly, her face taking on a decisive look. "Yes. It'll work. I could come and help you explain, if you like. Of course, she'll need a commentary on the last few years because she'll have to know about Harry and his role," she offers, smiling happily; glad to find things have gone back to a form of normalcy between them.
"Brilliant," Dudley says, mimicking her grin.
So it is that several weeks later, Hermione is found standing in the living room of Ju and Dudley's marital home, wand in hand and a sceptical Ju staring at her with arms akimbo and a brow raised high. Dudley's fidgeting, this new development proving to be a slight spanner in the works of their fledgling marriage, but Hermione understands just how unbelievable it all is, and, particularly after the debacle of explaining things to Piers, she knows how to go about it – there are no enormous transformations just yet, only a ruler into a flower, a book into a chalice - though Juliana is still partly terrified but, admittedly, mostly astonished.
It takes several hours for the new knowledge to sink in, and when it does, Ju practically tackles Hermione while she spouts a welcome back speech worthy of a missing person, tacking on the end: "It's about time you were brought back into the fold; I missed you and your crazy hair and enormous brain."
Hermione hugs her back, and when Dudley wraps them both up with a girlish cry of 'group hug!' the three of them can hardly breathe for laughing.
When a semblance of calm returns, Ju has a number of questions and they sit down for a late tea to discuss the magical world, the war, and Harry, who still confuses and intimidates Juliana, regardless of his sweet nature and weariness.
"So, Harry basically saved our arses," Ju confirms as the evening settles down. "I feel like I should thank him, maybe bake him some muffins or something."
Hermione laughs. "He'd only be embarrassed – he hates being in the spotlight."
"Can you do something else?" Ju asks, gesturing to Hermione wand. "It's just, I can't believe it. This is the most bizarre – the most… it's just the weirdest thing!"
"I know how you feel," Hermione sympathises. "I found out when I was eleven and got swept up into all this magic and dragons and make-believe. It was incredible. The best and worst experiences of my life all belong to that world."
She thinks for a moment, and smiles, choosing the same trick she startled Piers with to really surprise Ju.
Pointing her wand at a footstool in the corner, she causes it to mutate into a greyhound.
Ju squeaks and Dudley winces involuntarily, but then his wife is on her knees cuddling the skinny beast, cooing at it and marvelling and Dudley is left watching the two girls as everything settles back into place.
||8||
When the world finally welcomes Sophia and Millie Dursley into its arms, Hermione is astonished to find herself named the godmother to Piers godfather-hood of Millie. The gesture moves her to tears and Dudley, as Ju rests, jokingly whispers: "It's not an entirely altruistic post. I have a feeling your particular talents might come in handy when it comes to raising these two."
And indeed they do. As it turns out, the Evans bloodline has managed to produce two more witches, and Hermione spends many a weekend in residence with the young family, reversing accidental magic and discussing those aspects of magic which still perplex the two thoroughly muggle parents. Dudley is exceedingly grateful when she drops off a mountain of books and pores over them with his wife, the young man only now realising exactly how important Harry was in the grand scheme of the war.
By the time the two girls start at Hogwarts, bridges once thought burned are being tentatively raised once more, and the Potters, Dursleys, and their respective, rag-tag groups of friends, are living the good life.
And Dudley starts to think that maybe he is special, somehow, because how else he could've been blessed with such a beautiful family, he cannot fathom at all.
End.
Please, Read and Review Responsibly.
Rugger = slang for rugby union. A real man's game.
If there are any glaringly obvious mistakes or tense changes, don't hesitate to let me know. I've been looking at this for so long I can't tell anymore!
