Chapter Three: The zoo

With both her mother and father present, Margie commenced with the rest of her numerous gifts which included but were not limited to a T.V., fashion dolls, fashion video-game for her T.V., a new bike, cloths, cloths for her dolls, and a chest full of gowns that she had hinted she would like to play with Albus if they had time. The mountainous stack of wrapped presents was now replaced by a smaller, more dangerously looking stack of toys piled high onto each other. Just as she tossed the last present (a jeep made for her dolls) into the heap, Margie fixed her mom with another falsely cute stare and said, "Is it time to go to the zoo yet?"

James, who had been getting scolded by both Ginny and Penny for fashioning a coiled bat from the wrappings, looked up, "We're going to the zoo?" He repeated mischievously, already thinking of the many pranks Preston and Penny could possibly fall into in a place like that. Ginny, catching her son's train of thought added sharply, "Not you if you don't behave and apologize to Penny for messing her hair, NOW."

"Sure honey-pie, we can go right now, it's your birthday anyhow," Dudley's wife crooned to her daughter who was currently trying to hoist herself upright without upsetting any presents. Preston and Penny slipped off the armchair in unified fashion, both giving James and Lily identical loathing scowls as they pranced past. Duncan carefully nestled the firework ball atop a rather puffy yellow gown and quickly scampered after his older siblings to the garage.

"Right then," Dudley placed his arm around Marge and guided her out the door. Turning to Harry, he said, "that's everyone now? "

"Think so," replied Harry, "Oh wait, I don't think I saw…" Suddenly Albus appeared behind Dudley, pulling on the much larger man's shirt cuff.

"Hey now, you probably want that book I promised you now, right?" Dudley had to lean closer as Albus answered, "Yeah," and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Right, well follow me then," Dudley led Albus to a much more austere room near the front foyer. They reached a bookshelf which, despite its opulent size and design, held a very scarce number of books, "Not sure whether you'd like many of these, not really for children," he scanned the shelves, all of which were quite well out of reach for Albus, "Here- this one's got pictures in it. You like castles?" Albus nodded and Dudley handed him a large, thin, and quite unmoving book. Then the two proceeded to the garage where the rest of the family was trying to sort out who should sit by who.

"But I wanta sit by Preston!" wailed Duncan as Penny pushed herself between her brothers.

"It's okay Duncan, you can sit by me," Albus came to join the other kids. Duncan narrowed his eyes at Albus before throwing his nose high in the air and jutting his lower lip out painfully far, resolute.

"Careful, Dun," James hissed quietly from a seat ahead annoyed at his brother's treatment, " If you keep doing that, your head's gonna stay that way and then you won't be able to see where you're going and no one's gonna want help something that looks like a git."

Duncan stared wide-eyed at James and then frantically began prodding his face to verify everything had gone back to their original sullen look. He glared at James, "I'll tell. I tell them you called me that word."

"What word?" James blinked innocently, his lips curled in only the slightest of a sneer.

"Git!" Repeated Duncan heatedly. He hadn't seen his mother come up the side of the van.

"Duncan Sterling Dursley if I hear another word like that from your mouth you can sit yourself back in your room. Those are no manners to be out be out in public!" Her hawkish eyes scanned the Potters even as she told off her son, rightly suspecting that he had been provoked.

James was wheezing in his seat, barely in control, "Sterling huh Dun, does your Mum want you to marry royalty?"

This time, Duncan smartly kept his mouth shut.

Al made to invite the fuming boy again to share his spot but Lily shifted quickly near him instead, moving from James' side and snuggling affectionately.

"Here Al, I'll sit by you," Smiling up in her other brother's face, "Will you read to me? Please?"

Albus contemplated her for a moment, then shyly grinned and opened the book to an impressive-looking Scottish castle. James sulked in the background, suddenly finding himself alone.

So with Lily and Albus immersed in their book together, Penny and Preston murmuring with each other, Margie- who insisted that she have a seat all to herself, and James and Duncan sitting together trying to ignore the other's existence (though Duncan occasionally received a flick from the older boy), the trip to the zoo was on its way.

With the bustle of the kids dying down, Harry and Dudley had lapsed into an uneasy silence. Although Dudley was much better at politeness than his parents, seemingly innocuous subjects of conversation, such as careers and finance, reminded him of the very different world that he didn't care to hear about.

Camille and Ginny prolonged their conversation a bit longer. In perhaps the only indication of a more wild countenance under her outward primness, Camille was a fairly good athlete and played on a recreational rugby team. Ginny of course, coached the Holyhead Harpies after retiring as a chaser and found some common ground in discussing sports. This conversation too, eventually wore thin as Camille's boasts of her triumphs on the rugby field gave way to coveted snobbery of Ginny's magical talent.

"I mean, is it really a wonder if most of your skill relies on the model of your broom?"

"It's really only amateurs that it makes a difference, why Etta Bromwick has been using the same stick since her school days."

"But surely the game favors those with better equipment."

"Perhaps, although we've tried to open up quite a bit in the recent years. There's several special programs to get muggleborns into the sport where they aren't out-competed by wizards who can practice at their homes outside of school. We really have done a lot expand the opportunity to all magical folk."

"Yes well, there are still barriers it seems. It was quite a messy sport to watch if I recall as well. You can never focus on a level field and those quaffles come too close to the onlookers far too often in my opinion." Rubbing her nose, Camille traced the angle by which one such rogue quaffle had dislodged it when she was a girl.

Camille was from a rather mixed family of muggles and wizards. A few generations above, her great-great-grandfather and his twin had sparked a trend of magical beings that arose a random throughout the family. Though most were inclined to marginally integrate with the wizarding world, usually picking muggle spouses, the frequency of magical offspring had persistently increased. At the time of Camille's generation, she had been the sole child to not be gifted with any ability. At eight years old, she had resolutely decided, while being treated for her broken nose and visited by the quidditch beater responsible, that she would one day, play on a team. As her eleventh birthday passed without invitation, she felt struck once more and harbored an intense jealousy that had taken until adulthood to subside.

It was unclear whether this make her a squib, though Camille regarded that particular term with special resentment, as Harry had personally discovered.

"I just didn't think Dudley would end up marrying someone so involved with the magical world," he had tried to explain, apologetically, after the instance "I figured he'd had enough from growing up with me…"

Dudley smirked and turned to his wife, "It was nice to meet someone who understood," he said simply." You know, knowing about the world you live in, all the magic and surrealism, but never really being a part of it,"

"Curious, though how none of you children got it," Ginny looked back at the children piled in the back, four of which not the least bit abnormal. Harry stiffened slightly.

"Yes I was surprised when not one of them showed any signs…. I must say I wouldn't have been unhappy if one of them turned out a wizard. Huh honey?" Camille turned again to her husband but Dudley had put on a peculiar expression not unlike the one he had worn when he saw Albus' squawking book.

"I like them the way they are," He replied weakly as the car sped through a yellow light. Apparently a few of Uncle Vernon's genes had trickled through the generation.