Chapter 18 Funerals and Wills…

I sat in the limousine with mum, Aunt Marge, and surprisingly Harry, both mum and Marge had been insistent that he attend, after all dad had been his uncle. He had agreed, albeit with the understanding that he not be asked to say anything about dad. Both mum and Marge were alright with this, they just wanted him there at the funeral, and in my own way I was glad he was there with us. I had the feeling that both mum and Aunt Marge were going to break down in tears and I felt I needed some male support to help me cope with that possibility.

We left from #4 Privet Drive and made our way slowly to the church for the funeral mass, and already I could feel the atmosphere in the car getting decidedly weepy, both mum and Aunt Marge had handkerchiefs out dabbing at their eyes and I looked across at Harry who obviously felt out of place as much as I did.

The mass was as bad as I expected it to, a long drawn out affair with a lot of people from dad's company having to say their piece about him, I had to admit though if what they were saying about him were true, there was a side to my dad that I knew nothing about, it seemed he had helped many of the workers by paying for things to be done privately for them or some member of their family rather than wait for the NHS to get it done and in so doing had made himself very popular with his workforce. I could see that mum knew nothing of this either, every person who gave thanks to my dad and his generosity to his workforce could see her getting more and more surprised.

Eventually the Mass ended and we made our way to the graveside, where once again we listened to the priest as he droned on. Finally we were all free and had to make our way to Dad's factory where the wake was being held, in one of the conference suites in the complex, dad's factory was a lot more than just a factory it seemed, it had all the necessary buildings and offices attached to it for a large multi-national company, there was certainly far more to it than I expected, I had thought it was just a small factory manufacturing drills, I was obviously mistaken. The wake was every bit as bad as I expected, everyone wanted to come and speak to mum, Marge or I and express their condolences at dad's passing. Given what dad had been like to his employees this wasn't unexpected, but at the same time I got the feeling that some of them were trying to get on the good side of the ex-bosses son in the mistaken idea that I was going to be the new head of the company, not if I had anything to say about it, I wasn't.

The whole affair of the funeral and the wake had left me feeling slightly down, which I expect was a common reaction to such occasions, having never attended one before I couldn't say. The next morning Aunt Marge, mum and I were all seated in the kitchen, when there was a hoot from the garden and an owl landed on the sill outside the kitchen window. Aunt Marge's eyes were rather wide, we had explained to her about the wizard postal system and how they used owls, but this was the first time she had seen evidence of it. I opened the window carefully to admit the owl and it flew to mum, who looked surprised at this development, but carefully untied the letters attached to the owl's leg. Her eyebrows rose and she handed one to me and one to Aunt Marge who looked extremely surprised at this turn of events.

The owl seeing all its letters had been delivered gave another hoot and took flight out of the kitchen window. I turned my attention to the letter in front of me, it was addressed quite normally;

Mr. D. Dursley,

11 Grimmauld Place,

London.

None of this 'cupboard under the stairs' that Harry's first letter from Hogwarts had had, and I opened it, wondering who would be writing to us all this morning.

Prewett, Jameson, and Finch-Fletchley

Solicitors.

0207 7654 24867

Dear Mr. Dursley,

May I take this opportunity at this time to express our condolences to you and your family on the loss of your father? It is my duty as solicitor for your father's estate to ask that you and your family attend the reading of your late father's will at our offices in London, on the 12th at 2pm. If this inconvenient, please do not hesitate to contact me on the number above, or via email at -fletchley , and we will do our best to re-schedule to a more convenient time.

Once again, I express my condolences to you and yours at this sad time.

Yours sincerely

Justin Finch-Fletchley.

(A/N in case you don't realise the date in this story the twelfth for the will reading would be Tuesday 12th July 2005).

Mum looked at me, "isn't that the same boy, you made friends with in Tinworth, I wondered what had happened to him after we lost contact? If it is the same boy, I wonder how your father used his firm to get his will written, I know he didn't know Justin was a wizard, but why that firm?"

"Remember mum, dad was a snob, thought he was extremely important; Justin happened to mention at some point that he was a Baronet, that would have stuck in his mind. I bet he thought having a Baronet working on his will and legal affairs gave him a sort of social standing. There is also one of the other names on the firm, Prewett, that was the name of the headmaster, at St. Piran's, it could be a relative of the headmaster or Harry's friends, the Weasley's, I think he said he was related to them, although he was a squib."

Aunt Marge looked was looking fascinated at this conversation, we had covered our 'year in hiding' with her but left out a lot of details. "Pardon my asking, but what is a squib, and by Weasley's are you referring to that red-headed man who ran the joke shop in London, such a fascinating place?"

I took a breath, "okay, a squib is a person born to magical parents who has no magic, the opposite of a magical child born to non-magical parents, otherwise known as a muggle-born. The shop in London is owned by the Weasley family and partly by Harry as I understand it, although that last part is not common knowledge."

"Harry made friends with a boy called Ron Weasley when he went to Hogwarts and George whom you met at the shop is one of his older brothers, his twin Fred died in the final battle in the war. There is Percy, who works for the Ministry, Charlie who works in Romania with dragons, and the oldest brother, Bill lives in Tinworth and works for Gringotts. You remember, Ginny, Harry's wife, her maiden name was Weasley and she was the youngest of the family."

"And how does that relate to this Mr. Prewett you were talking about? Sorry if I seem so full of questions it all fascinates me still."

"Molly Weasley, the mother of all the children was born a Prewett and married to Arthur Weasley who also works at the Ministry, her cousin was a squib and worked as the headmaster at the school I attended in Tinworth, Cornwall."

"How come this Mr. Prewett was working as a headmaster in an ordinary school? I mean he had magical blood after all."

"Most pureblood families will disown or cast out squib children, although it's not spoken about in polite wizarding society that much, no family wants to admit to giving birth to a squib, shows defective bloodlines or something like that. From something else I heard, it is quite possible that some of these squib children die 'accidentally' before it becomes common knowledge that they were squibs."

"That's barbaric, how can they not be prosecuted for infanticide? I assume murder is a crime in the magical world?"

"It is, but the question, how do you prove it, and the truth be known, in magical law, muggle-borns, squibs, and muggles have fewer rights than purebloods. If I had not been recognised by the wizarding court of Charlemagne, there is no chance that I would have my seat on the Wizengamot, as a muggleborn I would be barred."

"Isn't that illegal under the race relations act or the equal opportunities act or something?"

"Probably, but until recently the magical world was completely separate from the normal world in regard to its laws and customs. It is only recently that it has been brought back to earth with a bump. I discovered whilst I was in America, whilst reading a history book, that there was a magical section of the Magna Carta and that we were still governed by the crown, and that quite possibly each and every wizard was in violation of those laws. So we endeavoured to speak to the Court Mage, an office that has fallen into disuse, although the office still exists and is a function of the First Lord of The Treasury, which technically is an older title for the Prime Minister. The short story is that when we made our oaths before the Wizengamot, we arranged for her majesty to be there and made our oaths to her! Each and every wizard in the Wizengamot was made to swear loyalty to the crown and her majesty made it clear that we were not able to discriminate against muggle-borns, or as she put it, first-generation purebloods, and that single phrase put a cat amongst the pigeons, or other magical creatures such as centaurs, goblins, trolls or other such. You've already met Elrond, he is Eledhel or an elf if you want the common version of his species name. His people were defeated in the Battle of Dymchurch, and forced into a form of indentured slavery to wizards. When he came to first serve my family, I treated him as an individual, I did something unheard of in wizarding society. When he swore his oath to me as head of the family to serve me and mine, I swore an oath to him as well, as was needed, but I swore I would accept his service in much the same way as a knight or lord of old would accept the service of a vassal. This broke the binding enchantment on his people, all elves born from that moment forward will look like proper elves and not the gross parody of themselves that the enchantment had forced upon them. Elrond had taken oath to serve me and my family, so he is bound by that oath, but new-born elves technically do not have to swear an oath to a family, although I have been reliably informed that most will do so; it is part of their belief system if you will, that there is great honour in serving an honourable master, or something like that. All that aside however, elves now have legal rights under the law as wizards as a magical species in their own right."

"Fascinating, you've certainly been a voice of change in this magical society, so are you planning to run for political office yourself at some point, you could probably do a lot more good if you did."

"I have no aspirations at this time to run for office, the only office open to voting by the Wizengamot is the title of Minister for Magic, and I don't want to get into that yet, I'm far too young. The position I hold at the moment is the equivalent of the Home Secretary or somewhat similar, I don't want any more thank you!"

"I can certainly understand that, you seem to be a major force in the magical world as it is at the moment, but I do hope you don't rule it out for some time in the future, if it were only possible to tell the others at the home that my nephew is the magical equivalent of the Home Secretary, of course I can't, it goes against this Statute of Secrecy thingy."

At that point there was a soft chime from the living room that indicated somebody was trying to make a floo call, I excused myself and went to the fireplace. I heard Harry's voice calling out, "Dudley, can I come over, I need a word with you and your mum?" I gave my permission and got out of the way as Harry came stumbling out of the fireplace nearly knocking me over.

Mum and Aunt Marge are in the kitchen, come on through," I invited and he followed me back to the kitchen.

Both Mum and Aunt Marge were surprised to see him, but obviously pleased. "Hello, Aunt Petunia, Aunt Marge, I received an owl earlier, asking me to attend the reading of the will of Uncle Vernon. I wondered if you knew anything about this."

Both mum and Aunt Marge held up their own letters; mum said "you're in the same boat as us then, we also got our own letters."

"Oh! I really can't understand why Uncle Vernon would include me in his will, and how did he come to use Justin Finch-Fletchley as his solicitor, I thought he was afraid of magic."

"We were discussing that earlier, I think that it was a bit of pomposity on his part, I met Justin and made friends with him the year we were hiding in Tinworth. Justin happened to mention that he was a Baronet and in line for the throne, 4 hundred and something in line, but dad was such a snob that I bet he thought that made him as good as the queen, so having him deal with his legal affairs would give him some feeling of importance."

"Makes a somewhat twisted sense of truth, but what about the magic?"

"He never found out Justin was a wizard, I never told him and he never asked. He just assumed he lived in Tinworth."

"Kind of ironic I suppose, but it makes sense, I'll see you all on Tuesday then, now if you don't mind I must get back, we're waiting on the healer for James, he's a little colicky…" he nodded and left to depart vis the floo.

Mum, Harry, Aunt Marge and I were all in London at the offices of Prewett, Jameson, and Finch-Fletchley, the receptionist had just called Justin and we had been informed he was on his way. A few moments later, a door to the right opened and the familiar figure of my old friend from Tinworth came into view. "Hello, Dudley, Harry, Mrs. Dursley, and I assume you must be Miss Marjorie Dursley, again may I say how sorry I am at your loss and for having to have to call you here for what must be an unwanted but necessary part of the mourning process. If you would follow me please, we are expecting one more person, but I have been informed they are on their way."

We followed Justin into the room he had just entered from and took a seat each in one of the comfortable looking chairs that were placed in front of the desk that occupied the back of the room. "Dudley, it's been a while, but you've certainly made your mark in the magical community, I heard about your oath-taking in the Wizengamot, that was definitely the biggest kick in the collective consciousness of the pureblood world, being told that they could not discriminate against half-bloods, muggleborns or magical creatures and had to accept them as equals. I'm grateful to you for that, my own children will be attending Hogwarts in a few years and I hope it will be a better experience for them because of that." The intercom on his desk beeped and the receptionist informed him that a Mr. Jones had arrived, Justin excused himself for a moment and left to escort Mr. Jones to his office.

We were now all seated, and Justin had removed a small file from his desk. "I know this is a hard time for you all, but this is the reason we are here!"

"I Vernon Dursley, being of sound mind, do hereby make my final will and testament, it may contain surprises to most people and will I think make some people upset and angry, I apologise for that, but at the time I did the things mentioned I felt justified in them in my own mind."

"Firstly, I must make my apologies to my nephew, Harry Potter, I made your life with us hell, forcing you to do practically everything around the house, whilst I spoiled Dudley rotten, I am only glad that Dudley has managed to pull himself around and now seems to be a well-adjusted young man, with a lovely young wife. I must say then next thing and it will shock and anger Petunia, and yourself as well, but all the time you were living with us, we were being paid a generous amount of money to care for you and pay for your upkeep. I am saddened to say that a lot of this was spent on Dudley, and some of it was spent to keep Grunnings afloat around the time you came to live with us. I felt justified in my actions at the time in my own mind, because in your being left with us, you had put us in danger of retaliation from the followers of that madman who killed your parents and I was determined to make you suffer for that, and I wanted to give Dudley, everything, so that if the worst ever did come to the worst, he had had a good childhood. Luckily, we were safe and you eventually sorted everything out regarding that fellow."

"Petunia, Dudley, I know that you have made your peace with Harry, and can bring Marge around to understand that he was not the person we all told her he was whilst he was growing up, indeed a lot of the money I loaned her when Harry was younger was from what I was being paid for his upkeep. That money was wrongly used by me in many ways and again I apologise to Harry for this and hope he has it in his heart to forgive me, I can only say that I was a stubborn old fool, who got an idea in my head and kept to that idea all my life. I'm sorry about that, and am glad that Petunia and Dudley have made their peace with you."

"In light of the fact that it was Harry's money that enabled me to keep Grunnings going during a bad time and the fact that I was an absolute and utter bastard to him all his life, I am including him in this my will, and he is receiving exactly the same as Dudley."

"To Petunia, Dudley, Harry, and Marge, I leave my stake in Grunnings, this to be divided equally between the four of them, owned 60% of the company, so in theory if you all got together you could do what you wanted with the firm, but I ask that you let Ian Jones who should also be hear take over the running of the firm and just let your shares generate an income for you. You should get far more from them if you do that, than if you just sell them or the firm itself…"

"I leave the house to Petunia, it is my hope that you find happiness, wherever you choose to live and the house is now worth far more than when we bought it, so if you do decide to move, you should be able to afford to get yourself a nice place."

"I wish both Harry and Dudley to have the contents of the Trust Account that was set up to receive the money's for Harry's upkeep, thanks in part to the success of Grunnings over the years and some slight success on the futures market, the amount in there is now more than I received in total over the years, and it is my hope it will in some part be an apology to my nephew."

"To Marge, I leave the sum of £500,000 pounds, I know that since you were forced to retire and live in that home, you have been struggling at times and it is hoped this will help. To my wife, Petunia, I leave the rest of the contents of my account, which at the time of writing is more than I left Marge, and again I hope it will see you well in the future."

"I ask that Ian Jones take up the position as Managing Director of Grunnings and continue to run it in the manner it has been for the last twenty years as he has helped me to do in the past. I understand that this is of course contingent on Petunia, Marge, Dudley, and Harry as they between them have a controlling interest…"

Mum turned to Harry, "Harry did you know about this money that was being paid to Vernon all these years. I swear I knew nothing about it. I really believed everything Vernon said about you being a burden to the family?"

"Not at the time, I didn't, I found out before James was born when I was looking into making Dudley his godfather, I just figured that it had all been spent on Dudley and helping to prop his firm up around the time I was born. I wasn't going to bring it up with you. It was Uncle Vernon who received the money and I accept that he has done his best to make amends for that fact. He was my uncle and I am sorry he's passed away, but I really cannot say much more than that, I wish he had tried to make amends whilst he was still alive, but it's too late for that now."

There was a cough from Justin at this point, "your uncle also wished to make a donation of half a million to the hospital where he received treatment after his heart attack, but there seems to be some confusion over where this hospital is. Although his insurance company authorised the payment and indeed made it to the hospital, the documentation for the claim seems to be missing in part. Do you know where the money should go?"

"Looks like you haven't been to St. Mungo's recently, on the sixth floor, there is the 'Vernon Dursley Unit, for Muggle Medical Procedures.' His insurance company paid the full amount for him to have a bypass operation, which was several times that of the few days of potions he had, the hospital realised how profitable this was and built a new unit to undertake similar work. Apparently it's nearly made the hospital self-funding from what the Minister tells me!"

"Really, and he never found out, how did they manage that?"

"He had a cut made on his chest that was sewn up with normal stitches, and was given potions to drink which he was told was to stop the nausea from his pain injections, which in reality was a wand being pushed against his arm with an illusion on it to make him think he was being injected with pain killers. They even managed to get some after-surgery documentation from a muggle hospital to give to him on discharge, telling him how to change his lifestyle, and mum made sure he stuck to them."

"So the 'surgery' was a simple potions regime for a few days and he's already made a rather significant addition to the hospital since then, well, I'll see that they get this latest bequest from him, it's probably one of the largest donations they've had in years. I love this, the ultimate muggle being treated in a magical hospital and never realising it. Absolutely brilliant."

Later that afternoon the four of us were seated round the kitchen table at #11 Grimmauld Place discussing the events of earlier, Mum was pleased that Dad had made some effort to try and atone for his past treatment of Harry, although I knew that it wouldn't matter to him, he had forgiven mum and I, and in time would come to forgive dad, the money meant nothing to him. We had all decided that his wishes would be carried out as his will stated, the shares in the company would just generate an income; none of us had any idea how to run a drill company. I wondered what the future had in store now…

A/N: just out of curiosity I looked something up on the internet whilst writing this chapter: 'Saint Mungo, was the late 6th-century apostle of the Britannic Kingdom of Strathclyde, the founder and patron saint of the city of Glasgow.' Wikipedia

This chapter was extremely hard to write and resisted my efforts to put pen to page, ok finger to keyboard, but you get the idea. I have not abandoned this story and will do my best to finish it. In response to a question I was asked by a friend who read this before I posted it, I have major incidents in the plotline in my head to take me up to at least 2013 in the HP universe, indeed there is one incident to come that was 'predicted' in The Start of Something New. Until next time, please take the time to review, a few kind words mean a lot to a poor author…