Muggle Post

'Sweetie? Are you listening?' A young woman with light brown hair nudged her husband lightly with her elbow, her hands full with their ten month old son. Dudley Dursley shook himself from his inner musings, and immediately helped his wife, Sofie, with the baby, which was what she wanted.

'Sorry about that.' Dudley apologized as he shifted his son, Michael, in his arms. 'Thoughts sort of wandered off.' And that was the truth. For the first time in nearly eight years, Dudley had been thinking about his cousin, someone who he hadn't seen for the whole nineteen years that Dudley hadn't thought about him. In Dudley's defense, a lot had happened in those years. Only four months after leaving their home of twenty years, his father, Vernon had suffered from a heart attack, and leaving his wife a widow. Only a few months later, Dudley had met Sofie, and had gotten married. Now he was twenty six, and starting a family of his own.

The Dursley boy looked at his son lovingly. Though he had been a robust child, and an even larger infant, Michael seemed to be tiny, with long limbs, and a large head. Dudley was sure that his son had gained his figure from Sofie's side of the family. The woman was tall and slender, and the blonde boy knew that he was lucky to have her.

With a warm smile, the woman of his dreams returned from the front hall, the morning mail in her hands. With a small upward glance and a soft smirk, the young woman sifted through the letters and bills, before pausing, a look of confusion clear on her face.

'What in the world is this?' The thin brunette puzzled over an envelope of thick parchment, addressed to her husband in hand-written ink. Dudley stared at the envelope in his wife's hands in amazement. He could remember clearly the letter given so long ago to his cousin, at his eleventh birthday, and nearly every birthday after that over the years. Though he knew what sort of person would sent such an old-fashioned letter, he had never told Sofie.

'Who's it addressed to?' Dudley spoke up, giving a fleeting glance to his son, wondering. His cousin had strange letters addressed to him, and it wasn't so unlikely that his own son could as well.

'It's addressed to you.' Sofie explained. 'From a Mr. Potter.' Sofie laughed at the peculiarity of the whole situation, and Dudley nearly jumped at the name. Quickly placing Michael in his high chair, he grasped the letter from his wife's hands, opened the envelope, and began to read.

Dear Dudley,

I'm not sure how to start this letter, it being so long since we have spoken, but I have only just heard about Uncle Vernon. I know it's late, but I felt that I had to give my condolences. He had given me a home, and though we never really got along until the end, he was still my uncle, and you are still my cousin.

I heard that you are now married, and have a son. Well, I guess that makes two of us. My wife is named Ginny, and we have two sons, both two and three, and Ginny is pregnant with child number three.

I was wondering if we could get together some time? To catch up, and introduce our families? I understand if I'm askign too much, but if you could give me a response, please know that it would be much appreciated.

Your cousin, Harry.

Dudley stared at the letter in silence for a long time. Holding Michael on her hip, Sofie read over his shoulder, her hazel eyes scanning the page thoughtfully.

'I never knew that you had a cousin? And it says that he lived with you for a little while.' Sofie scanned the parchment once more. Dudley thought in silence, not sure of what to do. Throughout his childhood, he lived in terror of Harry, though he would never admit it. The thought of what his smaller, younger cousin could do to him had filled his mind, and fueled his rage towards the skinny boy. But that was in the beginning. Near the end, he had understood his cousin more, and when he was fifteen, his cousin's abnormality had actually saved him.

'Do we have any stationery?' Dudley spoke up suddenly, his tone almost urgent. Startled at the sudden urgency, the tiny wife scurried around the house, looking for a paper and pen. The moment she found some, Dudley went to work composing a response. He worked in silence, his wife watching and waiting. When he had finished (a feat that took longer than expected, due to his hatred for the written word), Dudley quickly licked on a postage stamp, ran out the door, and mailed the letter, all without a word. When he came back, he placed Michael on his high chair, and asked Sofie to sit down with him at the kitchen table.

'What was all that about?' Sofie questioned as Dudley held her hand from across the table. With a nervous smile, her husband explained himself.

'I offered to have my cousin over next month. I'm sorry I never told you about him, but I wasn't sure how to go about doing so. You see... Harry Potter is... abnormal.' And Dudley spent the day telling his young wife about his childhood with Harry Potter. About growing a tail when he was eleven; about being followed around by a group of invisible people, just so they could give his cousin a letter; about his Aunt Marge blowing up like a balloon in his kitchen; how a group of red-haired strangers appeared in his chimney; and how Harry Potter had saved his life.