A/N: This first section is canon from the chapter The Dursleys Departing in DH you can skip the italicized part in this since its straight copy paste. In other news, this is my first fanfiction and I had this idea that I couldn't get out of my head. I hope you enjoy reading and I welcome reviews and any feedback, negative or positive. I don't have a set ending for this story so its going to go as long as I can write. I'll try to update weekly but I am a student so no promises. Have fun!
Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter in case it was unclear to anybody. I do own a beta fish named Blueberri that I think hates me.
"Well, this is good-bye then boy."
He swung his right arm upward to shake Harry's hand, but at the last moment seemed unable to face it, and merely closed his fist and began swinging it backward and forward like a metronome.
"Ready, Duddy?" asked Petunia, fussily checking the clasp of her handbag so as to avoid looking at Harry altogether.
Dudley did not answer but stood there with his mouth slightly ajar, reminding Harry a little of the giant, Grawp.
"Come along, then," said Uncle Vernon.
He had already reached the living room door when Dudley mumbled, "I don't understand."
"What don't you understand, popkin?" asked Petunia looking up at her son.
Dudley raised a large, ham like hand to point at Harry.
"Why isn't he coming with us?
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze when they stood staring at Dudley as though he had just expressed a desire to become a ballerina.
"What?" said Uncle Vernon loudly.
"Why isn't he coming too?" asked Dudley.
"Well, he—doesn't want to," said Uncle Vernon, turning to glare at Harry and adding, "You don't want to, do you?"
"Not in the slightest," said Harry.
"There you are," Uncle Vernon told Dudley. "Now come on we're off."
He marched out of the room. They heard the front door open, but Dudley did not move and after a few faltering steps Aunt Petunia stopped too.
"What now?" barked Uncle Vernon, reappearing in the doorway.
It seemed that Dudley was struggling with concepts too difficult to put into words. After several moments of apparently painful internal struggle he said, "But where's he going to go?"
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at each other. It was clear that Dudley was frightening them. Hestia Jones broke the silence.
"But… surely you know where your nephew is going?" she asked looking bewildered.
"Certainly we know," said Vernon Dursley. "He's off with some of your lot, isn't he? Right, Dudley, let's get in the car, you heard the man, we're in a hurry.
Again, Vernon Dursley marched as far as the front door, but Dudley did not follow.
"Off with some of our lot?"
Hestia looked outraged. Harry had met this attitude before Witches and wizards seemed stunned that his closed living relatives took so little interest in the famous Harry Potter.
"It's fine," Harry assured her. "It doesn't matter, honestly."
"Doesn't matter?" repeated Hestia, her voice rising considerably.
"Don't these people realize what you've been through? What danger you are in? The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti-Voldemort movement?"
"Er –no, they don't," said Harry. "They think I'm a waste of space, actually but I'm used to –"
"I don't think you're a waste of space"
If Harry had not seen Dudley's lips move, he might not have believed it. As it was, he stared at Dudley for several seconds before accepting that it must have been his cousin who had spoken; for one thing, Dudley had turned red. Harry was embarrassed and astonished himself.
"Well... er… thanks, Dudley."
Again, Dudley appeared to grapple with thoughts too unwieldy for expression before mumbling, "You saved my life,"
"Not really," said Harry. "It was your soul the dementor would have taken…"
He looked curiously at his cousin. They had had virtually no contact during this summer or last, as Harry had come back to Privet Drive so briefly and kept to his room so much. It now dawned on Harry, however, that the cup of cold tea on which he had trodden that morning might not have been a booby trap at all. Although rather touched he was nevertheless quite relieved that Dudley appeared to have exhausted his ability to express his feelings. After opening his mouth once or twice more, Dudley subsided into scarlet-faced silence.
Aunt Petunia burst into tears. Hestia Jones gave her an approving look that changed to outrage as Aunt Petunia ran forward and embraced Dudley rather than Harry.
"S-so sweet, Dudders…" she sobbed into his massive chest. "S-such a lovely b-boy… s-saying thank-you…"
"But he hasn't said thank you at all!" said Hestia indignantly. "He only said he didn't think Harry was a waste of space!"
"Yea but coming from Dudley that's like 'I love you,'" said Harry, torn between annoyance and a desire to laugh as Aunt Petunia continued to clutch at Dudley as if he had just saved Harry from a burning building.
"Are we going or not?" roared Uncle Vernon, reappearing yet again at the living room door. "I thought we were on a tight schedule!"
"Yes –yes, we are," said Dedalus Diggle, who had been watching these exchanged with an air of bemusement and now seemed to pull himself together. "We really must be off. Harry –"
He tripped forward and wrung Harry's hand with both of his own.
"—good luck. I hope we meet again. The hopes of the Wizarding world rest upon your shoulders."
"Oh," said Harry, "right. Thanks."
"Farwell, Harry," said Hestia also clasping his hand. "Our thoughts go with you."
"I hope everything's okay," said Harry with a glance toward Aunt Petunia and Dudley.
"Oh I'm sure we shall end up the best of chums," said Diggle slightly, waving his hat as he left the room. Hestia followed him.
Dudley gently released himself from his mother's clutches and walked toward Harry who had to repress an urge to threaten him with magic. Then Dudley held out his large, pink hand.
"Blimey, Dudley," said Harry over Aunt Petunia's renewed sobs, "did the dementors blow a different personality into you?"
"Dunno," muttered Dudley, "See you, Harry."
"Yea …" said Harry, raking Dudley's hand and shaking it. "Maybe. Take care, Big D."
Dudley nearly smiled. They lumbered from the room. Harry heard his heavy footfalls on the graveled drive, and then a car door slammed.
Aunt Petunia whose face had been buried in her handkerchief looked around at the sound. She did not seem to have expected to find herself alone with Harry. Hastily stowing her wet handkerchief into her pocket, she said, "Well – good-bye" and marched towards the door without looking at him.
"Good-bye" said Harry.
She stopped and looked back. For a moment Harry had the strangest feeling that she wanted to say something to him; she gave him an odd, tremulous look and seemed to teeter on the edge of speech, but then, with a little jerk of her head, she bustled out of the room after her husband and son.
Seven years later
In a small hospital a very large man was pacing up and down a small hallway not exactly being quiet. Doctors and Nurses ran about and tried to ignore the frantic man .A nurse popped her head out of a door on his left and said "Mr. Dursley, its time." The man ran back into the room just in time to hear his wife, Catherine scream out in pain.
Emily Iman Dursley was born on August 14, 2005 at 6:32 p.m. Dudley Dursley was in awe as he stared at his petite daughters frame through the glass that separated her from him. "I'm going to the best father to you" Dudley muttered to himself, "I'll never let you down". As he continued to gaze upon his daughter he could have sworn he saw a small smile
"Daddy's home!" Dudley called as he open to door to his home. He heard the patter of little feet running across the floor and saw Emily, now four years old, coming down the hallway. She ran full speed and jumped when she got near enough. Catching her he spun her around in a small circle before asking, "How's my little girl doing today" "Daddy I want to show you what I did to my toys!" Dudley carefully put her down and she dragged him by the hand into the living room. "Daddy look!" Emily exclaimed with glee. Her toys were spread out amongst the coffee table and they were moving. Groups of dolls were dancing in a small circle around the glass bowl in the center, after one couple pulled off a spectacular version of the tango the rest of the dolls started to clap enthusiastically. "Has your mommy seen this yet?" Dudley asked cautiously. "Nope, I wanted to show you first daddy." "We should show mommy." "Catherine, could you come in here for a second honey?" "What's going on" said Catherine as she walked into the living room from the kitchen. "Look at the coffee table" Dudley simply stated. "Sweet Merlin could this be happening?" Catherine said softly "What are you talking about?" Dudley asked. "I need to talk to you privately Dudley, Emily go to your room!" "I wanna stay!" Emily cried, "Emily go now!" Dudley said.
After Emily sauntered off to her room, Dudley sat Catherine down on the couch. "Now tell me what's going on." "I haven't always been honest with you in our relationship Dud. I've told you a much edited version of my family history but now I need to tell you the truth" "Go on" Dudley encouraged. "We are not alone in this world, our world in inhabited by wizards and wizards that live in peace away from muggles if they can help it." "I can stop you right there Catherine. I know about the wizarding world, I haven't been totally honest with you myself. I have a blood cousin that is a wizard but I haven't been in contact with him for at least eleven years. Are you saying you're a witch? " Dudley asked. "No. I am a squib. I can't do magic, I've never been able to, so my family disowned me when I was 18. I've been living as a muggle since then. I think Emily is a witch Dud, she's showing the early signs of magic. I wish there was someone we could talk to and figure out what to do." "Im going to try to contact my cousin and see if he will help us."