This world belongs to J. K. Rowling. I don't own anything.

Sorry for any grammar or vocabulary mistake, English isn't my first language.

The story will include chapters with different length and skip back and forth in the timeline.


The Dursleys were the least normal family in the neighborhood but – fortunately – no one, except for them, was aware of that.

On the 30th of March, Vernon Dursley, like every other morning, went outside for the milk and the newspaper and, reluctantly, grunted a greeting to their damn neighbor who was waving over the fence with a huge grin on his face. He was not alone. It seemed, he got his damn niece to babysit for the Easter holiday. (Although, said niece, considering her age, did not need to be babysit at all.) She was waving and grinning as well and – Vernon shivered – her hair was shining in pink.

Vernon slammed the door and shambled back to the kitchen where Petunia bustled between the table and the stove and where his coffee was streaming waiting for him beside his floral plate. Very soon, flavorful breakfast would be served on it.

Footsteps echoed from the other side of the kitchen's door: heavy tom-toms and rapid, cheerful patter. Dudley arrived with Harry in tow. They dropped on their chairs and rubbed their hands, so simultaneously as if they practiced it. And Petunia was on her way, wooden spoon in one hand, pan in the other. Fat and bacon were still crackling in it.

"Such tempting smells!" The voice came from behind him, scaring Vernon. So instead of taking a careful sip, he gulped down much of his hot coffee. He coughed up choking and panting for air, while he tried to cool his mouth with a fanning hand.

"'morning," James Potter added grinning.

He was grinning all the time, just like the neighbor did. Even when barely a month and a half after their first appearance, Vernon had called a ghostbuster for him and his beloved wife. (By that time he had made the difficult decision about whom he had abhorred more: ghosts or those who hunt them.) In fact, he should have been relieved because James had taken it as a joke, not an attack – in which case revenge would have been demanded, probably –, but Vernon found his brother-in-law's attitude (regarding everything) extremely irritating.

"Good morning." Lily Potter was polite, at least. A ghost and an intruder, but undeniably well-mannered. That was something.

She and James floated to the chairs – James to Harry's left and Lily between her husband and Petunia, because Petunia was willing to tolerate a ghost beside herself – imitating they were participated in the eating.

Soon, Harry and Dudley finished their breakfast and were chattering about going to Harry's idiot godfather to play with Tonks because Tonks was now allowed to practice magic freely… So Vernon quickly put down his fork and wiped his mouth. It was time to make the announcement he had been postponing for three days.

"Now then…" He cleared his throat. "Marge is coming to visit this weekend."

Harry and Dudley looked like they just heard summer break was cancelled. Lily's mouth twitched ever-so-slightly, Petunia's face remained perfectly emotionless, James, however, brightened up.

"I love Marge," he said.

Actually he loved how Vernon was squirming during his sister's visits.

"Sirius also loves Marge."

Sirius also loved when Vernon was embarrassed. For that matter, however, Marge really loved Sirius. Vernon had absolutely no idea why. It could be some lady thing, because after he mentioned this riddle to Petunia, he merely got a resigned eye roll as an answer. He almost asked Lily too, but he suspected the reaction would be the same. He did not like to speak to her, anyway, and he liked to speak to James even less, but sometimes he had to do it. Although, at first, for about half a year, he had not talked to them at all, pretending that if he does not acknowledge their presence, they would not exist.

"How can I get rid of you two?" That was the very first question he asked James, fretfully and desperately.

His brother-in-law thought about it and shrugged. "Kill Voldemort, and we'll leave instantly, that's all."

There had been moments when Vernon took into serious consideration that he would try.

"Promise me you will behave." Damn it, he knew, how stupid it sounded, but he had to told them anyway.

Harry and Dudley in choir – and a bit confused – replied with an "Oookay", then realized the warning was not addressed to them.

"I…" started Lily offended.

"Him," Vernon interrupted her, pointing to James with a finger. "And that other one."

"You don't have to worry about me," James reassured him, "namely for three reasons. One: I am older and more mature now."

"But you are a ghost…"

"Which prevents only my looks from changing," his brother-in-law said preachingly. "Two: Marge likes us, I mean the 'us-created-by-you'. It's not so funny that way anymore. Three: I would set a bad example for Harry and Dudley, and they are old enough now to remember it. Oh, and four: Lily would be cross with me."

Imagining the angry, snappy Petunia, Vernon could understand why that latest option meant particular retentiveness. He relaxed.


Harry and Dudley – both of them richer with five pounds and cheeks brightly red – huddled up on their chairs, waiting impatiently for the time they could leave the table. Preferably, before Aunt Marge's spuddy fingers would be left without something to do. Momentarily, they gripped a fork and a glass safe distance from the boys, but it could change any minute, because slowly the brandy ran short and only a few bites of cake remained on Marge's plate.

The house seemed comfortingly ghost-free – though, James undoubtedly was lingering nearby, despite all his vows –, and the neighbor spent the whole day in reassuring distance, in the far edge of the country. Vernon knew, of course, that he could return home in a wink, but he chose not to worry about that until he heard a suspicious pop from the garden. He tried not to worry, at least.

Petunia was about to refill Marge's glass – full to the brim –, Marge, however, did not pay any attention to her, and instead she was studying Harry and Dudley. She had already been over the usual remarks like 'oh, how much Harry grew' (Vernon thought he grew about nothing) and 'how muscly Dudley became' (incidentally, that one was true), but now she found a new topic.

"You have to decide very soon about where the boys will get further education, Petunia dear."

"We thought of Smeltings," Vernon said.

"Great," Marge sipped in her brandy. "This is the most ideal choice, of course. Family traditions must be continued. No doubt, both of the them…"

Vernon and Petunia changed a look. Harry and Dudley did the same.

"Well, in fact… Harry… We'll send him to the school where his father graduated. The man persists on it… would persist, I mean." Then, because it couldn't cause any harm, he added: "According to Sirius."

This was… well, the magic word. Though, Vernon hated that phrase.

Immediately, Marge nodded eagerly. "It feels right. Very much so. Tell me, Harry, would you like to follow in your father's footsteps?"

Marge believed James had worked as a police officer. That was close enough to the truth, a version that was muggle-friendly enough. At the time of Marge's first visit, Vernon was compelled to mobilize all of his imagination and pervasiveness to explain away everything he had told his sister earlier about the Potters. Because he could not have characterized someone as a drunken scallywag meanwhile said person's mother-of-pearl head hanging from the wall with a reproachful expression over the peacefully dining Marge.

Afterwards, Vernon was rather proud of himself for the story he had created around the death of James and Lily. The many crime shows he and Petunia had watched and those two Bond movies Vernon had chidden all along made a good service in the end. Actually, he could have exaggerated a bit, perhaps.

"I… haven't really thought about it yet," Harry muttered.

"Of course. You're still so young. It's a dangerous profession, anyway. Those poor parents of yours…" Marge was shaking her head and did not look into the boy's eyes anymore but stared at his scar.

Vernon decided, complacently, exaggeration or not, he had improvised a brilliant story, considering the 'bloody Potters' became 'poor Potters' thanks to it.

Harry did not know how to reply to that last note. For the lack of a better idea he tried to make a sad but agreeing face.

"Anyway, it's a pity that the boys won't stay together, isn't it?" Marge gulped down the rest of the brandy and shrugged her beefy shoulder. "But they'll get used to self-reliance, at least."


Vernon Dursley looked around the table and he would have liked to cry. The company naturally included Petunia, Dudley and Harry – and that was all right. But the other ones…! Two ghosts, a werewolf, the dog and the punk. Wonderful. Won-der-ful. Dudley, however, could have thought that genuinely, because he seemed completely satisfied, and, after all, they were celebrating his birthday.

That fact only withheld Vernon a bit but did not stop him, of course. As a warm-up, he warned Sirius not to dare to transform, because no doubt, he molted and would leave hairs all around. Then, between the soup and the main dish he picked a quarrel with Tonks about her orange curls. This only made Tonks complete her hairstyle with some gold and green stripes. To Remus, Vernon did not say anything. Full moon was still many days away but Vernon thought no sane man teased a werewolf. Besides, Remus was the most Dursley-compatible member of the group.

And he brought the ice cream from Florean Fortescue, and sweets – as usual – improved Vernon's mood a lot. Fortescue's ice cream was one of the few magical things Vernon did not have any revulsion to. Actually, most food belonged in that category, except for the moving ones and those that made sounds.

While Petunia was brewing coffee and tea, Dudley put on his newly seized uniform – marron tailcoat and orange knickerbockers with a straw boater –, and imitating a fashion-show he stalked around the room.

Sirius borrowed the Smeltings cane from him, the final item of his outfit, and whirled it around in his fingers.

"You'll be a real dandy wearing this masquerade, dude," he was teasing Dudley. His voice sounded friendly and his smile was all teeth, so Dudley grinned as well. "Funny thing, this cane. I don't know why eleven years old guys are walking around with stuff like it but it's definitely funny."

"Tradition," Vernon growled darkly and continued with something about hats, robes, boots with buckles and brooms, but nobody heard it, because Petunia just returned balancing clanky cups on a tray.

"They can duel with them," James noted.

"Duel… Oh, the sword-like way?" Sirius stabbed him, the cane's tip knocked the chair. Vernon was genuinely pleased to see the smile froze on Sirius' face.

"Don't listen to them!" Lily advised Dudley to lead the conversation back to the previous path. "This uniform is very cute."

It was easy to conclude from Dudley's sour expression that he was not flattered by description of 'cute'.

"Refined?" Lily offered.

Dudley nodded.

"Uniform! School!" Sirius slapped on his forehead theatrically. "That reminds me… there is one more present for you, dude."

The first one, he gave him when he arrived, was an ordinary muggle football, so Vernon feared that the other one would be some hokey-pokey. It looked like a book, but Tonks had told them about one that bit off its owner's fingers. Vernon could imagine it quite easily.

Dudley tore off the wrapping paper. From the gold and red shreds of paper two simple mirrors revealed themselves. They did not bite. For now.

"Two-way mirrors, one for you, one for Harry," Sirius explained enthusiastically. "You can talk anytime, no need for owls. James and I used similar ones at summer."

James kept nodding eagerly.

The 'no need for owls' part persuaded Vernon not to protest against the present. But he found another reason to complain. Glancing around he noticed the intensive attention drawn to Dudley. Everybody stared at him, waiting for some reaction from him. Almost everybody… because Harry was hanging on Tonks' words, words like Marauders, map, Filch, Weasley twins. Vernon did not care for them.

That seemingly innocent remark of Marge caused a rather serious commotion. If it had been up to Vernon, he would have forgotten the whole thing, have not even thought of it and surely have not chewed on it for weeks. But the others did not behave so rationally – not even Petunia. She and Lily made very long discussions in a very upset tone – mentioning their own childhood – but they fell silent and scattered away if someone appeared near them. James and Sirius chivvied Vernon to find out what Dudley was thinking, because it was his duty as a father, after all. Remus did not do such thing, because he had gone for a business trip for a while, but obviously, he was informed about everything.

Dudley reached for a jug, filled with the orange juice and raised the glass to his mouth – completely unsuspectingly.

"Does it bother you that you cannot go to Hogwarts?" Vernon could not be and did not want to be tactful.

"Yeah." Dudley kept nodding while he was drinking. In the silence that fell on the room the only sounds were him gulping down the orange juice. Finally, he put down the empty glass with a satisfied sigh. "What?" He looked around the faces staring at him. And that included his cousin and Tonks now. "It also bothers me Harry cannot come to Smeltings. Or should I be happy about staying alone?"

"Hah," Vernon burst out triumphantly, the exclamation was addressed to all of them. In reply, Petunia gave a dig to his ribs, not discreetly at all.

"You will be the most awesome muggle," James told Dudley so proudly as if it were his merit or he had anything to do with it.

Well… after all, Vernon internally – deeply, secretly, very reluctantly – admitted that James, in fact, had to do something with it. Because what Dudley was like, it was influenced by all four of them – four of them and Sirius. Though, the damn dog did not bark into the upbringing, at least. The Potters, however, had their idea about everything since the moment, a night in early November they had floated into the bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and had challenged them – with flashing eyes – why there had not been even a toy in Harry's crib and why the little boy had been wearing clothes in sizes bigger than necessary, anyway.

"Why, Vernon, would it bother you if Dudders was a wizard?" Sirius asked.

"You have already seized one child," he prevaricated, while kept stirring his coffee wrathfully. It got completely cold. "That should be enough. At least I'm not forced to tell lies everybody about the another as well."

"Interesting. I always believed you rather enjoy that," Lily was musing.

Oh, yes… Sometimes his sister-in-law was just as annoying as his brother-in-law. No wonder they found each other.

"So… now that Harry's going to Hogwarts for ten months, you'll also move there, I think." I hope.

Lily and James stared at him shocked.

"Why would you think that? Or will you move in the Smeltings with Diddykins?"

"What kind of parents would fuss around their child at the school constantly?"

"Well, the ghost-kind," Vernon shrugged. "I think." I hoped.

That remark was found unworthy of a reply by everyone – except for some sighs and rolling of eyes and shaking of head. Vernon became resigned to the fact that the next school year and the other six years afterwards would be the lousiest periods of his life.

"We could accompany Dudley, however," James suggested suddenly. "Only for a week. Or two. For fun, you know. After all, every decent school needs ghosts."

"No need, at all!"

"There are ghosts in Hogwarts," Harry chimed in.

"That's not a…" …decent school, Vernon wanted to say, but he corrected himself in time. "… condition for a school being decent." He thought he got out that one skillfully.

Meanwhile, Lily reassured Petunia that James, of course, was only joking.

James also reassured the crestfallen Dudley it was not a joke.

Vernon was not willing to acknowledge that latter one.


On the 31th of July, Vernon Dursley, like every other morning, went outside for the milk and the newspaper and, reluctantly, grunted a greeting to their damn neighbor who was waving over the fence with a huge grin on his face.

He shambled back to the door and was about to open it when he noticed something on the threshold. He bent for it. He knew what it was. A yellowish envelope – parchment – addressed with emerald ink to Mr. H. Potter.

Vernon sighed. It was not too probable Harry's magic would just disappear with… well, magically, was it?

Then, he realized there was not one envelope in his hand but two. Trembling, he pulled out the bottom one.

He froze, first.

Then, he gave a bellow.

"PETUNIAAAAAA!"

Sirius, choking on a mute laugh, ducked behind the fence where Dudley was peeking through a hole between two boards.

"That was mean, dude. Genius, but mean."

"Do you think, Dad will appreciate it too, eventually?" Dudley's face was cheerful and a bit worried at the same time. He believed, with utter convincement, his father had a sense of humor. Not the kind Uncle James or Sirius did, but he had one all in all. He shared a roof with two ghosts and a wizard-to-be – and Harry had produced some odd things time to time –, and his neighbor changed into a dog sometimes, Vernon Dursley however, bore it, despite all of his growls and grimaces.

The Dursley house remained silent. No doubt, Dudley's mom opened the envelope and read what was written in the letter.

Dear Mr. Dursley,

We inform you that you have NOT been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The 'NOT' was framed and a tiny figure was drawn beside it. It wore a tailcoat with a straw boater and hold a cane in his hand, and was even moving thanks to Sirius.

After a few minutes, Vernon Dursley started shouting again, quickly listing everyone who would have dared to play a prank like that and could have picked up a pen to write with it.

"BLACK! DUDLEY! HARRY!" The latter one was sitting in front of him in the kitchen, most likely. Dudley screwed up his nose imagining with sympathy how that roar could have sounded up close. But Harry was curious what kind of face his uncle would make once the trick was revealed. And he shared Dudley's opinion regarding Vernon Dursley's sense of humor.

Sirius cleared his throat and grabbing Dudley's shoulder guided the boy towards his house. "Come now, I'm sure we can find something for breakfast at my place. Harry will tell us when your father managed to digest the joke."

Dudley nodded with a merry smile, and burying his hands – still smeared with emerald ink – into his pocket, followed Sirius.


Author's note:

Lily and James are not 'ordinary' ghosts. Their presence is part of a defence magic remaining active until Voldemort's ultimate death. James meant literally when he told Vernon if Voldemort died they would leave.