The reunion of Harry Potter and his aunt went about as was expected: there were no great apologies or tears or hugs, but the glares and hostilities were absent as well.
"Aunt Petunia," Harry had said, not quite as warmly as he had greeted Dudley all those months ago. Harry had stuck out his hand and Petunia had returned his handshake with the lightest grasp of her fingertips.
Dudley was impressed she resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her skirt, as though magic could be spread as easily as the flu.
They had decided to meet at the Potter's home and drive over together. Dudley's reasoning for this was, if his mother behaved, she could get acquainted with Harry and meet his family without the hubbub of the Weasley clan and they could talk a bit in the car. If his mother didn't behave, he would drive her home, and Anita and the girls could use the fire floozy thing to go to the Burrow whilst he gave his mother a scolding that would make his father proud.
Thus far, it was surprisingly civil. As civil as could be expected.
Dudley's mother was stiff, trying to look less pinched and failing miserably. Anita noticed her mother-in-law's discomfort and tried to ease her tension by placing a hand over Petunia's trembling one, but Petunia had only shrugged her support away.
Ginny was a lovely hostess, offering a glass of water or use of the loo after their drive. Dudley had to commend them all: every Potter was polite to his mother, despite her obvious discomfort.
Daisy and Poppy had run off to find their cousins to play immediately upon their arrival, leaving the grown-ups to do their introductions and talk about boring adult things. Petunia's nervous gaze flicked over everything in the house, looking for signs of strangeness. She looked, Dudley though, rather like a dog he and Anita had adopted in their early years as a couple.
Cricket had been a petite little thing, perfect for their first apartment. She was a mix of something fluffy, something yellow, and something with a curly tail and Anita had loved her photo in the paper immediately. They had gone to meet her at the shelter, where she had been sweet and affectionate.
When they brought Cricket home, however, everything had changed. She was terrified of everything. She stared around the house, as though waiting for something or someone to pop out and scare her. Despite their best efforts, Cricket had never truly settled in with them, constantly frightened. The day she bit a friend's daughter had been the day they decided that Cricket simply wasn't happy with them and that their home gave her more stress than peace.
Petunia's constant glancing about the room and restrained trembling was just like Cricket's, and Dudley hoped she wouldn't decide to snap at anyone out of defense.
After the most uncomfortable, and silent, cup of tea Dudley could remember having, Ginny had called down the children. As they put on their coats, Ginny beckoned Petunia over.
It wasn't until they went down the line introducing the children that Dudley realized Daisy had only talked of her time with James and Albus at school, and Poppy hadn't talked at all. His mother didn't know--
"And this is our Lily," Harry said, looking up at Petunia.
Just like that, Petunia cracked. This little girl with fiery red hair and her father's and grandmother's eyes stared up at Petunia and the stiffness crumbled as her eyes welled.
"Lily," she said softly, "It is lovely to meet you."
"You, too!" Lily said, bouncing on her toes. "Daddy said I was named after your sister. I don't have any sisters and Daisy says it's not all it's cracked up to be."
Poppy frowned and kicked her sister, who elbowed her back. Dudley stepped between them, eyes staying on his mother.
"Did you like having a sister?" Lily asked her great aunt.
"I wasn't very good at being a sister. But when I was young, yes. I did. And I very much wish I had mine still."
Petunia's tears slid down her face silently. Harry, Ginny, Dudley, and Anita all watched, not speaking and not moving.
"Well, my daddy says I look like Grammie Lily. Maybe you can try again with me. I heard sisters go to luncheons together when they're grown up. Maybe we could do that!"
Anita chuckled and Petunia dabbed at her eyes.
"Maybe we could." Petunia agreed.
"Right then," Ginny said, trying to give her aunt-in-law a chance to clean herself up as she discreetly took a handkerchief from her purse. "I can floo over with the kids and Harry, you can ride with the Dursleys?"
~D~D~D~D~D~D~
The ride to Burrow had involved a slightly relaxed back and forth between Harry and his aunt, thanks to Lily's ice breaking abilities.
"So, that man who killed your parents?"
"Dead." Harry said, simply.
"Your police finally do their job?" She asked, clearly believing that it was about time they got a wild murderer off the streets.
"Ah, not quite," Harry said with a chuckle.
"Then who killed him?"
"I did."
Everyone grabbed their seats as Dudley swerved.
"You didn't tell me that!" Dudley exclaimed.
"Not a particularly fond memory," Harry said with a shrug.
"Dudley mentioned you're a copper of sorts in...your world." Petunia said, focusing all her years of manners training into to being polite.
"Yes," Harry said. "I'm called an Auror."
"So you trained for it and went after him?"
"Not really. I mean, I trained up in school a bit, but then I took a year off to weaken him. Then there was a battle, he kind of killed me, but I came back, then I was able to kill him."
There was a strained silence.
"And this was when, exactly?" Anita asked.
"May 1998."
"But, you were..you were a child!" Petunia exclaimed, surprising Harry if his eyebrows were anything to go on.
To be fair, his eyebrows were about all Dudley could see in the rearview mirror. But they were very surprised eyebrows.
"Didn't have much of a choice," Harry said. "I know it sounds like stuff and nonsense, but there was a prophecy stating that I had to be the one to do it, so I did."
Harry shrugged nonchalantly.
"The alternative was to have let my friends die, and my friends who had already died, die in vain. Besides. I'd just died and it wasn't so bad. Looked like Kings Cross."
Dudley muttered something under his breath and Anita giggled quietly catching some tidbits about preferring a burning eternity to spending more time at Kings Cross.
Petunia was staring out the window, seemingly in shock. Dudley and his parents had known that things were dangerous when they were sent away to Scotland. That had been confirmed by the destroyed home on Privet Drive. What they hadn't realized was that the magical world had apparently relied on a teenager to defeat Wizard-Stalin, or Lord Voldy-thing, or Riddle, as Harry had called him. Dudley couldn't possibly imagine that kind of weight on the shoulders of a child, not much older than his Daisy. A child younger than Teddy Lupin, the lanky boy with the eye-wateringly bright hair.
It baffled Dudley.
It apparently baffled everyone in the car, for it was quiet until they pulled up in front of the Burrow.
~D~D~D~D~D~D~
The cacophony of The Burrow was always a surprise to Dudley. He expected the laughter, the shouts, the calls of names across the house, and yet it was still a shock to the eardrums.
As for his mother, well, Dudley was shocked she hadn't had a stroke the moment the crumbling building vanished to reveal the topsy-turvy home that made up Molly Weasley's domain. After witnessing magic on that large of a scale, Petunia had clutched her chest. When the Weasley roars reached her ears, her mouth had twisted into something so tight and miserable looking that Dudley was surprised her mouth hadn't disappeared entirely.
However, he had to give her credit. His mother did not come off as particularly loquacious, but she was polite, she shook hands, she smiled tightly; in short, she tried.
And that was far more than he would have anticipated merely a day prior.
As he watched his mother suffer through a conversation with Arthur Weasley on his most recent discovery (paper clips), Dudley smiled. It was a strange world they'd found themselves in, but even the most reluctant of them were integrating.
Slowly.
Painfully.
But they were doing it anyway.
A/n: I am constantly surprised at the popularity of this story. I do hope you all enjoyed the brief trip down memory lane. PLEASE please review. That's what's kept this train a'rollin