Summary: Fifteen-year-old Mari Dursley believes her life is a total bore, thank you very much. But when her grandfather Vernon dies, she is led to a set of clues revealing a dark family secret.

Disclaimer: The rights to Harry Potter and all associated characters, themes, etc. belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I do not own this world. And unfortunately, neither does Dobby.

Chapter 1

Mari surveyed her dresser. Skincare and makeup products littered her vanity, much like the pieces of her life. And, like every piece of her life at her mother's house, they would wait, patiently, until her return. She did not need them and did not pack them. Spending time with one parent meant that everything at the other parent's house was held in suspense, seemingly out of time or space, until the visitation switched. They were all at her father's house, the lotions and the mascara and the makeup brushes, living a double life. In fact, it looked as though the only thing that was not doubled was her. It was the same Mari that came to stay with her mother, and the same Mari that stayed with her father. A young, dirty blond girl blinked in the mirror at her. Some days that girl had only half the energy for it all.

She told herself that she was used to it. Her mother and father had been divorced for a few years. She liked to say that she was surprised when it happened, when she was ten years old, but even at that age it was hard to ignore that her parents were the oddest couple she had seen. Her mother, Phoebe Fox, was the daughter of a wealthy barrister. She sounded like an absolute movie star, and was not far from one in appearance, with her long dirty blond hair, her petite frame, and her smile that almost sparkled. Then there was her father, Dudley Dursley, who eventually took over his father's business at the drill company, Grunnings. Mari's dad was a caring and loving person, but had always been a little withdrawn, and, despite being the biggest person in the room, could always fade just a little into the crowd. After five years Mari no longer had the anger to blame either of them. Throughout their marriage her mother was bubbly and outgoing, but generally passive aggressive and demanding when it came to her father. Her father was kind to his kids but always distracted it seemed, with somewhere or something else, and was always wondering how to make things right. The both of them, it turned out, worked better apart, sharing equal custody of Mari and her eight-year-old brother, Lenny.

Mari collected some necessary items from her room (the ones that could not be doubled) and bounded down the stairs, meeting her brother and her mother in the lavishly decorated front room.

"When's Dad coming?" Mari asked

Phoebe shook her head and turned her eyes upwards, the gesture she often made when she was ready to complain about someone. "Said he'd be here in thirty minutes- that was an hour ago."

"Dad's never been late to pick us up, though," Lenny argued. Yet still, he twisted the arms of his action figure, back and forth, his eyes occasionally darting to the door, or his mother's mobile phone that she had placed on the side table.

A silence settled over them. A silence for some is just a silence, but for Phoebe Fox, a silence is alive with grumblings that nobody can hear. She knew well enough to keep them to herself though.

Phoebe eventually smiled at her children with the same disarming smile she used at parties and galas. "Summer holidays are always too short. Make the most of it, all right? Do something fun with your dad. Your cousins must be back from boarding school, so maybe you can visit them too?"

Lenny's eyes widened. "Yes! I wanna see the Potters!"

Mari felt a thrill of anticipation at this. Indeed, seeing her cousins was one of the few things in life that did not bore her. The Potters were her only cousins on her father's side, except they weren't really her first cousins at all. Her Uncle Harry was really just her father's first cousin, and had lived with Grandad Vernon and Grandma Petunia as a child because he was an orphan. Her dad had told her some stories, like how Uncle Harry's parents were law enforcement or something, and a suspect eventually broke into their house and finished them off, leaving Harry without any family to care for him. Mari had tried to ask her uncle about this, when she was a little younger and had absolutely no filter, but Harry did not really want to talk about it.

Uncle Harry had attended the same primary school as her dad, until he got accepted to the elite boarding school that his parents once attended (Mari didn't remember the name- it started with an H?), and now his three children, James, Albus, and Lily, attended the same school. Mari was the same age as Lily, and the five of them (if you include Lenny) got along splendidly whenever they could meet over the summer holiday. If Mari was lucky, Uncle Harry's adopted godson, Teddy, would also be over. He was by far one of the coolest people Mari had ever met. He and his fiancée Victoire were both in law enforcement, like Uncle Harry (though Mari couldn't remember in what capacity) and Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny had given him permission to dye his hair turquoise ever since he was a child. The Potters, she reasoned, were just cool that way, constantly separated from the hard and fast rules that seemed to define regular society. Mari couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something otherworldly about the energy around them. It seemed like...electricity? She could not begin to describe it.

There was a knock at the door, and Mari's mother furrowed her eyebrows. Dudley usually texted Mari when he was in her mother's driveway, and seldom knocked or entered her mother's house. Except this time, he was probably confronting Phoebe to apologize.

Mari strode to the door and opened it. There was her father, looking concerned and slightly peckish, still wearing his too-tight dress shirt that he wore to Grunnings every day.

"Nice of you to finally come," Phoebe piped up from her place on the sofa, seeing past Mari to her ex-husband in the doorway. "Could have told us you were running late, you know."

Lenny snatched up his bags and ran to his father. He pushed past Mari and hugged him, but it seemed Dudley's attention lie elsewhere.

"I was with my mum," he said, "It's Dad."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "So which is it? Has Vernon been banned from the local Tesco again or is he refusing to take his meds?"

"He's dead."

Mari sat in the front seat of her dad's company car as he sped off from her mother's house. Lenny played with his action figure in the back, just as quiet as she was, although Mari was sure that the reality had not yet sunk in for him. Mari finally broke the silence.

"So if it was a heart attack, does that mean he wasn't taking his meds?"

"Not sure," her father muttered.

"Grandad always says that medicine is for weak people," Lenny said

"Well, who's the weak one now?"

"I'll have none of that talk when you see your gran," Dudley said, "She's already distraught."

Mari was sure that of every living thing that had interacted with her grandfather, her grandmother would be the only one to feel pure sadness over his death. Mari loved her grandfather, and he certainly tried to spoil her and Lenny with gifts and money, but as Mari had grown, so had the number of arguments with her often-problematic grandfather. Several conversations could not be erased from her memory. Should she tell the audience at her grandfather's funeral that he had once called her a 'tart' for wearing 'too much makeup for a fourteen-year-old girl', or perhaps she should tell them about a very awkward comment her grandfather made when she was hanging out at her father's house with one of her 'lower-income' friends? Her grandfather always seemed to find something offensive about the company that Mari kept. Who could forget the day that she brought home her red-headed boyfriend, Artie, and her grandfather burst into a tirade about "damned gingers", saying things like "his name even sounds like his". Mari had more than an inkling of where that came from. Her Aunt Ginny's maiden name was Weasley, and her father always seemed to be appalled by the Weasleys, if he ever mentioned them at all.

"You be careful at their house," her grandfather always said, "That family Potter married into, the Wesleys, or whatever you call them, are a bunch of loonies if you ask me." Which was of course exactly what her grandfather would say about a family as loving and as nice as the Weasleys. She hadn't met all of Aunt Ginny's family, but her brother Ron and his wife Hermione had come over to the Potter house a couple of times with their kids, which only added to her enjoyment at the Potter house. Things in the Potter family seemed so uncomplicated. Spouses loved each other, children had healthy relationships with their parents, and nobody seemed to judge one another. Sometimes she wondered if Uncle Harry and her father were even related at all.

Then, as if Lenny could hear her thoughts, he asked, "Is Uncle Harry coming to the funeral?"

There was a pause. "Seems like something your Uncle Harry might do," their father said thoughtfully, "Going to a funeral for someone he never liked." Dudley hesitated, glancing back at Lenny. "Then again, he's not invited."

There was a huff from both of the Dursley children. The color flushed in Mari's cheeks, "Gran couldn't put away the awkwardness for a goddamn minute-"

"It's not your gran. Your grandfather's will specifically mentions that the Potters aren't invited."

"And why do we need to respect his will?"

"Cause it's his funeral."

Mari crossed her arms, "Doubt he'd respect anyone else's funeral".

Dudley sighed, looking at his children, "If it makes you feel any better, Uncle Harry might not have come if he was invited anyway. He and my dad...well..."

"I thought you said it would sound like something he'd do?" Lenny asked

"I mean-," Dudley seemed to retract a little, "Your uncle's pretty noble, so he might've if he was given the chance...but on the other hand, just thinking back..."

"Thinking back to what?" Mari asked

"Nothing, they really didn't get on, is all." And with that, Dudley went silent.

The three of them spent the rest of the drive in their own heads. Lenny, wondering how his uncle was doing and if he would ever see him that summer; Dudley, generally stressed and a little afraid, but mostly confused with his own feelings; and Mari, wondering if there was something more to the bad blood between Grandad and Uncle Harry.

More chapters to come! As always, I am open to thoughtful constructive criticism. I would also like to make a note that this story does NOT reflect my headcannon for what I would want or expect from Dudley in adulthood. My personal headcannon is that Dudley lives happily ever with his wife and their magic children (and also eventually stands up to his father's arrogant ways), but I didn't think that narrative had a place in this particular plotline.