Dudley Dursley was just polishing off his 5th slice of bacon when the letterbox clattered.

"Get that, Dud," his father, Vernon, grunted, his large round head buried in the morning's newspaper.

Dudley was about to protest—he still had his egg and a hash brown to eat, but then he suddenly remembered his circus tickets should be arriving today. Muttering with the effort, he eased his expansive backside off the chair and waddled towards the front door, clattering his knobbly Smelting's stick along the wall as he went.

Dudley scooped up the pile of letters and rifled eagerly through them. There it was—on a large brown envelope written in curved handwriting in purple ink.

Mr. Dudley Dursley

The Largest Bedroom

Number 4, Privet Drive

Surrey

He tossed the other letters on the table next to his father and sat down on his chair, pushing his plate aside roughly so that the ketchup bottle overturned. His breakfast forgotten, Dudley eagerly tore open his letter, expecting to see four tickets for Mr. Lorenzo's Circus inside, but what he saw instead made him let out a gasp as he read the letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore. (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. A member of staff will be arriving shortly to confirm your attendance.

Yours sincerely

Minerva McGonnagal

Deputy Headdmistress

"Postcard from Marge," Vernon called towards the living room, where his wife Petunia was doing her morning clean. "She ate a funny whelk."

"Dad," Dudley interrupted, his face gleaming and his heart pounding. Surely this couldn't be real! Surely it was some kind of joke.

"… letter from the council," Vernon continued, oblivious to Dudley. "They're finally going to fix that pot hole"

"Dad!" Dudley said again, this time giving his father a stiff poke with his Smelting's stick.

"What is it Dud?" Vernon asked, looking up. He had scrambled egg caught in his bushy moustache, but Dudley barely noticed as he thrust the letter towards him.

Vernon took it, his beady piggy eyes growing even beadier as he read. His already purple face turned a darker and darker hue with every line until he bellowed, "Petunia!"

The kitchen door opened, and a horse-like face attached to a neck longer than normal peered into the kitchen.

"Dudley got a letter!" Vernon growling waving the letter with one hand, and his fork with a sausage speared on the end in the other.

"You mean …" Petunia's face paled.

"From one of … them. Your sister's lot." The sausage flew off the end of Vernon's fork and landed with a plop on the kitchen floor.

"What does it mean?" Dudley demanded, not used to being ignored.

"No …. He can't be. Not our popkins."

"Dad!" Dudley cried, this time whacking the table with his Smelting's stick.

His mother and father were staring at each other, Petunia looking pale and fearful, Vernon looking as red and as angry as Dudley had ever seen him. The only time he had looked like this had been when he come home to find Dudley and Piers Polkiss attempting a Ouija Board—an idea Piers got after he sneaked downstairs to watch a horror movie at two in the morning.

"Dud, go to your room. Your mother and I need to talk."

"I want my letter! Is it true? Am I wizard?" Dudley demanded, swinging his Smelting's stick as his father grabbed him to force him roughly out of the kitchen. He managed to hit his dad three time, his mother once AND knock the pudding bowl onto the floor before Vernon succeeded.

Immediately after the door was slammed behind him, Dudley bent down and pressed his ear to the key hole. His mother and father were having a hurried conversation in low whispers, but Dudley still managed to pick up the odd word, usually when his father raised his voice.

"Mimblewimble" … "your sister's lot" … "one of them in the family" … "wizard" … "turn the neighbors into frogs."

That last one made Dudley grown thoughtfully, as he thought back to what he had read in the letter. "Hogwaddles School of Wizardry," he muttered, and glanced at the door as he remembered the final part saying a member of staff would arrive. "I'm a wizard," he whispered, smiling gleefully. He couldn't WAIT to tell Piers, Dennis and the others.

He yet out a yelp as the door opened suddenly, and he fell face first on the kitchen floor.

"Dud, me and Petunia have been thinking," Vernon said, pulling Dudley to his feet. "It came as a shock to us." He glanced helplessly at Petunia who shrugged, her horsey face still pale.

"Is it true?" Dudley demanded. "Am I wizard?"

"It's true," Vernon confirmed, gesturing at the kitchen table.

Dudley eased himself onto his seat which creaked alarmingly under his weight.

"Your mother … her sister … well … it's true," Vernon said, then smiled for the first time since Dudley had opened his letter. "Think of the opportunities, eh Dud? Think what we can do now you can do all of this … this, hocus pocus?"

Petunia looked disapproving, but Vernon, it seemed, had quickly realized the possibilities of having a wizard in the house and was looking eager.

"I can go?" Dudley asked, leaping out his chair.

"Of course," Vernon said nodding. "It came as a shock … and we can't let the neighbors find out. But you're my son. I'd be proud to have a wizard in my family. I bet you'll be the best student there, eh Dudders?"

"You bet," Dudley said, nodding eagerly. "And when I get back, I'll show you all I can. I bet … I bet, I bet I can turn stuff into gold! And … and if someone annoys us. BANG!" he slammed his fist down on the table making Petunia jump.

"Well, as long as the neighbors don't find out …" Vernon said, but Dudley wasn't listening as he walked around the kitchen, saying out loud all that he could do with his magic. It seemed there was an internal battle going on inside Vernon's mind between fear of the neighbors finding out against both the love for his son and the possibilities of having a real life wizard in the family. The latter, had won out, but Petunia was still looking uncertain and even fearful—but of course, Dudley, caught up in the euphoria of the moment, didn't notice."

It was only when there came a sharp rap at the door, that Dudley stopped speaking. As one, all three heads of the Dursley family turned and gazed at it. Each remembering the final part of the letter.