I really am terribly sorry for how awful I am at updating. We're nearing the end here, so I'll post the last chapter or so asap. There will probably only be one more chapter. Thank you so much for all the favorites and follows and reviews! It really means a lot 3


Home again. Though it didn't much feel like it.

Petunia was sitting watching Paisley's favourite television programme with the patience that only a grandmother can possess. Dudley sat in the front room with his father once more, listening to him drone on and on about the works of Grunnings. The man ate, drank, and sweat in drills. And Dudley, frankly, didn't care. Pretending was exhausting. He zoned out. Vernon didn't even seem to notice.

Sally wasn't speaking to him. All week, Vernon had been a pain in her rear, with his "traditional gender roles" crap, and Dudley was going along with it. "Dudley, I've been working late all week, I need your help around the house! I can't do it all. Forget what your father thinks for one second and think for yourself," she'd whispered as she attempted to man the stove and wash the dishes at once.

"I know, I know," he said. "I'll make it up to you once he's gone."

"No, Dudley. Stand up to him. And while you're at it, tell him!"

"Honey, I can't..."

And with that, Dudley had managed to completely infuriate his beloved wife. They hadn't spoken since. Paisley was angry with him as well. She'd cried when her owl was sent off to Harry's, and she cried when he told her she had to lie to her grandparents about who she was. She didn't look at him much. He didn't blame her. Things were tense in the Dursley home.

Dudley had to fix this. Trouble was, he wasn't sure if he had the courage. He wasn't like his cousin. He wasn't brave. He couldn't stand up to people. Not on his own. As a child, he'd always had his gang behind him for even the weakest of foes. He didn't take on a ten year old without backup.

There had been one time...one time he had vocalized a disagreement with his father. It hadn't been much...just a comment about Harry, and not even really a nice one...just one that wasn't bad. I don't think you're a waste of space. He'd almost thought, for a moment, his mother agreed...

"He's really going" she'd said. And when he'd found her in the attic, she still had the photo album. Whatever she'd said about her sister, he knew she cared.

Perhaps...perhaps his mum would be a better start. She'd been in the same boat once, when her sister went off to school. He could start with her. Yes, he would start with her.

"Dad, I'm sorry...I promised Paisley I'd take her to the playground" Dudley lied, thinking on the spot.

"What? Oh, alright. If you must" Vernon said, as though he'd almost forgotten Dudley were there.

Dudley jumped up from his seat and ran into the living room to fetch Paisley, whispering in her ear that he needed her to come with him and not ask questions in front of grandpa. She gave him a crusty look but obeyed. Then he turned to Petunia. "Mum...I was wondering if you'd like to join us? Bit of fresh air?"

Petunia looked a bit taken aback. "Oh...well, alright. That sounds nice."

The walk to the playground was quiet. Dudley didn't know how to start, his mum didn't know what to say, and his daughter was still furious. Maybe this would calm her down a bit.

Paisley ran off to the monkey bars. Dudley pulled Petunia to the park bench. "Mum..." He took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"

"Oh, Dudley, if this is about your marriage"

"Mum, my marriage is fine. This is about something else. Can you...tell me about Lily?"

Petunia let out something between a hiccup and a shriek. "You know very well we don't speak of her, the f-"

"Mum, please. This is important. What happened? When she went to Hogwarts?"

Petunia's eyes sunk to the ground. "She...she left. We stopped speaking."

Dudley grasped his mother's hand. "Do you really hate magic? I know you don't hate Lily. You told me so the night Harry left. But...what of magic?"

The question hung in the air like syrup and Petunia was choking on it. They sat in silence, Dudley squeezing her hand for reassurance. She turned away from him so he couldn't see her face. "Magic stole my sister," she whispered. "Magic made sure I could never fix the tear between us...but I was the one who made the tear. Not Lily. Not magic."

"So you never hated magic?"

Petunia gave a sad laugh. "Oh, I did...at first. But eventually...it just hurt. I don't now." She grinned. "But don't tell your father, it might kill him!"

Now Dudley looked away. "Mum...Paisley has magic."

His mother laughed. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Paisley is a witch. She's going to Hogwarts. She got a letter in the post just before you got here."

He chanced a glance at her face. She didn't seem angry like he'd feared, in fact, she didn't seem to know how to feel at all.

"Harry helped us get her things...took us around his part of London. Had us for supper with his family-you'll remember the Weasleys of course...blew out our fireplace and cursed my tongue...nice people, really. Harry's got a kid and some nieces and nephews who are around Paisley's age so she won't be going off alone...Mum, please say something. Are you angry?"

"I...I'm shocked...but I'm not angry." Petunia laughed and Dudley sighed the biggest sigh of relief.

"So you won't disown me?" he laughed.

"Of course not. I'm your mother, I'm Paisley's grandmother. Nothing changes that." He put his arms around her and gave his mother what was probably the first genuine hug in years. Then he shot up off the bench.

"Mum, can you stay here with Paisley for a bit? There's something I have to do now."

She nodded. "Good luck. You're going to need it."

Dudley raced home, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His mother had accepted it. He had her on his side. And he'd told her. Now he had to finish the job. He ran into the house, finding his father making a cup of tea in the kitchen. His heart was pounding. His palms were sweating.

"My daughter is a witch."

The mug shattered on the ground.


Thank you so much for continuing to read even when I've lost my touch. Please criticize me! Give me any (constructive) criticism you can! It's been so long since I've written, I hardly feel like I know how anymore.