Chapter 19
“Dad? Is everything okay?” Georgie asked when he saw Dudley enter the classroom he and Freddy had to stay in. He had tried his best to calm his brother but had stayed worried all the same himself.
“Yes, everything is fine,” Dudley said, smiling and trying to assure his children that all was well, “look, Harry came as well,”
“Harry,” Freddy said, running over and hugging the man, starting to take in parseltongue, and giggling when Harry answered.
“I take it everything is alright now, Mr. Dursley,” a teacher said, and Harry soon hushed Freddy, knowing that it would look weird to people to be hissing to the young child.
“Yes, everything is in order, thank you again for this,” Dudley said.
“Don’t worry about it. We see our fair share of trouble,” the woman said, “I see you children tomorrow, and don’t forget your homework,”
“Boo,” Freddy said at the reminder, but soon ran to Dudley, holding his arms up in a clear sign that he wanted to be picked up.
Dudley smiled at his younger son and held him in his arms while Georgie followed.
“Did you have fun today?” Dudley asked, trying to distract the child.
“Yeah, it was good. We went to swim today,” Georgie said.
“That’s good,” Dudley said.
“I want to swim too,” Freddy complained.
“You go swim on Mondays,” Dudley answered back, and Harry followed the family, still having trouble to see his cousin as a family man, oddly soft with the boys.
“Uhm, I guess I go home now?” Harry said when Dudley was putting the children in the car.
“Noo, come Uncle Harry,” Freddy begged, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.
“We got your mother’s stuff still at home,” Dudley offered, making Harry look at him wide eyed, “we kind off forgot with all Aunt Marge’s interfering, but that’s why you were coming home with us,”
“Right,” Harry said, feeling a yearning in him to connect to his parents, “I’ll come,”
Driving to the house, Harry let his thought wander to his own parents. After all these years, he still wanted to get to know them better. Through the years, he realised that it was probably his situation with Vernon and Petunia that caused him to desire his parents this hard, having gotten no love while growing up.
“You got the kids,” Livia said, looking relieved when Dudley entered the house.
“I got the kids,” Dudley said, the woman immediate fussing over her children, sending them off to play before lunch was ready.
“Harry, you’ll stay for the food right? I’ll order some pizza’s,” the woman said, and Harry nodded happily.
“I haven’t had pizza in years,” Harry said, having noticed that the wizarding world was more of a classic meat and three veg kind of dinner style. For all the magic advantages that they had, take away wasn’t one of them oddly enough.
“Let’s go check out your mum’s stuff,” Dudley said, after Livia placed a suspiciously large order, Dudley using the excuse of Harry to have his own kind of buffet at home.
The way Livia was looking at him, it was clear that she knew what exactly her husband was doing, but she didn’t mind indulging his love for food a few times. She knew he tried to watch his weight, and he did have a very physical job.
There were two boxes, and Harry stroked the first one, feeling his hands shake. He hesitated, knowing it would be rude to ask to be alone when he opened them, and wondering if he should wait.
A glance to Dudley showed his cousin’s just looking at him mildly interested, and Harry realised that he already knew what was in there. It made him feel a little jealous, but that feeling was easily suppressed.
If Dudley hadn’t checked the box, it would have been thrown in the garbage. But still, Harry wished for some privacy.
“Dud, come and help me set the table,” Livia said, seeing Harry hesitate, and Harry felt relief at the question.
“Can’t we do that later?” Dudley asked, and Livia shook her head, looking fondly at her husband.
“No, let’s leave Harry here, and we’ll make sure the table is set. You come when you feel ready, okay Harry?” the woman said, and Dudley frowned for a moment, before his eyes widened in understanding.
“I will, Livia, thank you,” Harry said, and Dudley awkwardly shuffled out of the room with his wife, leaving Harry to open the boxes in privacy.
Carefully, he unfolded the first one, looking down on some old-fashioned clothes, still in good enough condition. With shaking hands, he pulled the pullover out, and pressed it to his face, regretting the slightly stale scent of it.
More clothes filled the box, and in the colours, he could recognize a personality from his mother, seeing that she liked vibrant colours, but most of the cuts were simples.
“She didn’t seem to like dresses,” Harry mused, having almost never seen his aunt in anything but. Another part where his mom and her sister differed, and Harry could only see it as a positive thing.
Opening the second box, it was filled with trinkets and books. Picking up a picture album, he opened it, seeing old class photos of what must be his mum’s kindergarten.
Flipping through the book, it were all pictures of before Lily had gone to magic school, and he couldn’t help but stare at them, seeing the way she smiled at her parents, how she grinned when she blew out the candles of a birthday cake.
One of them had her playing in boots outside in the rain, and another one had her building snowmen in the winter.
She just looked like his daughter.
Swallowing back tears, Harry could only imagine how his own childhood could have been.
He was sure that his mother would have dozens of pictures like these from him, where he would be playing out in the snow, and getting some tea or hot chocolate to warm up.
Pictures of him going to the seashore and making sandcastles and blowing out all the candles of his birthday cake.
Instead, he had spent most of his holidays with Mrs Figg, looking at pictures of her cats, and his birthday were barely remembered, and never celebrated and winters were always miserable in his cast offs which never seemed season appropriate.
Carefully, he placed them back in the box, deciding to look them through later, when a paper caught his interest. At first, he had thought it was a rolled-up poster, but looking at it closer, he recognized the piece of parchment.
Getting it out of the box, he unfurled it, the writing on it faded with age. But ever since he left school, he had learned a trick or two and carefully he tapped the parchment, making sure no curses were lingering on it, before he used a spell to enhance the ink.
‘Dear Lily Evans,
The Magical Ancestry Department found no traces of your family connected to an ancient or known magical family.
The manifestation of familial magic is therefore not possible.
We would like to invite you to be tested and registered as a Parseltongue.
This registration will be kept private, and the database is strictly confidential.
Seeing current political climate, we do advise you to keep your ability a secret,
Regards,
Sophia Barrow,
Department of Magical Ancestry, Talents and Gifts,’