Imagine If Dudley Did Have A Magical Child Though.

Imagine if Dudley did have a magical child though.

He and Harry haven’t spoken since ‘I don’t think you’re a waste of space’ and he’s matured enough to realise his parents were not good to Harry, especially since the birth of his own little girls because God forbid anything happened to him and they were treated like Harry was.

On Daisy Dursley’s eleventh birthday theres a knock on the door and his wife, Anita, just stares and he feels his stomach drop because the stern lady on the doorstep is wearing a cloak and pointed hat.

They listen to the woman - Professor McGonagall - explain and Anita is surprised but receptive, Daisy is excited and Dudley is terrified of what this means.

It’s a surprise to his wife and little girl when at the end of her explanation, while Daisy’s flicking through a book with moving pictures and Anita peers over her shoulder, Dudley blurts out ‘it’s safe now then? Your world?’

Professor Mcgonagall gives a wry smile and assures him that the magical world is indeed safe. It dawns on him that she was expecting this, that she’d perhaps researched him and was aware of his relation to Harry.

He then admits to Anita and Daisy that his cousin is a wizard, before turning to the Professor and asking if she by chance knows a Harry Potter. Looking amused, professor Mcgonagall acknowledges that she does.

’D'you know where he lives?’

That does surprise her a bit, and she tells him that yes, she knows and that though Daisy’s acceptance into the school has been confidential up until this point, Harry would likely not mind a visitor if he wanted a word.

Daisy begs to come along and he relents eventually, bringing Anita and their youngest, Poppy, along.

All four of them stand on the doorstep of a modest house that Dudley would call nice if there weren’t squat little creatures snickering and running around the front garden.

The door is opened by a slouching boy with turquoise hair who arches a purple eyebrow at them. He yells over his shoulder for someone named Ginny and steps back to let them in, and, when he notices Daisy staring at his hair, he smirks and a second later it’s bubblegum pink.

Daisy squeals in delight and Dudley is still trying to get his head around that when young girl and boy around Daisy’s age with bright red hair and thick brown curls respectively, hurtle down the corridor.

‘Teddy you promised you’d practice the sloth grip roll with us!’ The girl yells in an accusatory tone.

A woman with hair the same shade of flaming red as the little girl appears with what Dudley recognises as a wand in her hand as the boy with blue hair flashes a grin at them before chasing the two younger children outside to a shout of ‘No higher than the treetops Teddy!’

Harry is much like Dudley remembers him, lanky with a pointed face, straight nose and mess of untameable black hair. It’s awkward, but, apparently forewarned, Harry greets him pleasantly and introduces his wife before Ginny goes outside to reign in a gaggle of children he assumes aren’t all Harry’s.

A woman with thick, bushy hair pulled into a messy bun with a wand stuck in it smiles and makes an effort to talk to Anita. She’s not too strange, he thinks, and reassures them that her parents were just as baffled when they found out she was a witch.

‘Why don’t you take Daisy outside to see the broomsticks, Al?’ Harry suggests to Daisy’s obvious delight and Dudley swears Harry’s trying not to laugh.

By the end of the visit Dudley is more informed about the wizarding world than he ever thought he would or wanted to be. Daisy, with a bruise on her forehead and scraped knees, because despite both his and Harry’s warning she hadn’t been able to resist trying to fly, is bouncing off the walls because ‘daddy how could you not tell us?!’

They visit Harry’s a lot over summer and Daisy befriends Lily Luna Potter and Hugo Weasley. Dudley doesn’t feel up to the trip to Diagon Alley but regrets his decision to not go when Daisy comes back with two owls, ‘uncle Harry bought the second one for me! So you can write without having to wait for me to send my owl!’

Petunia Dursley faints when she finds out, and Vernon spends a good half hour cursing and brandishing things aimlessly before retreating to his shed.

Dudley being introduced to what he calls ‘all those bloody gingers’ some of whom are only just on the right side of civil to him (one cheerfully introduces himself as someone who once visited his childhood home in a flying car and asks if he’s going to need to do the same for Daisy or will she be allowed to attend without punishment).

Daisy is shocked to find out Harry’s famous, and finds out as much as she can about him during her first term, which she relays to an increasingly guilty feeling Dudley, who’s gradually coming around to the idea.

It’s not as bad as his parents made out it was. He’s learned to understand Daisy’s ramblings about her subjects and spells and is proud of her achievements at school. He’s met a handful of witches and wizards through Harry and the world that he’s always been told is terrible doesn’t seem too bad anymore, after all, how could it with his little girl in it? He is prepared come excitable little Poppy’s eleventh birthday, for her to join her sister at Hogwarts instead of standing jealously on the platform as she leaves.

Poppy Dursley never gets a letter.

it baffles me that theres people who can just… just sit down and take out their homework and be like “time to work yes” and actually…get things done???? without a problem??? and move on?????? thats wild

That reminds me. Junior year of high school, we were reading Le Petit Prince in French class, and on the day we were supposed to discuss the ending, my grandmother (who was very sick) had just decided to stop taking sustenance from a feeding tube--meaning she was going to die in a matter of days, and by her own choosing (albeit from a very limited set of crappy options). I was behind, so I speed-read the ending of Le Petit Prince during class. It did not go well. I got to That Part, and it surprised the hell out of me, and I burst into tears (while the teacher was talking about something completely different, too, b/c I was reading under my desk). 

So I ran outside into the hallway and sat down on the tiles to sob all by myself. Then my favorite English teacher came by. She knew me pretty well - a couple of other kids and I hung out in her classroom during lunches and talked about homoerotic interpretations of American lit (as you do) - and even though she was pretty no-nonsense, I thought she might offer some compassion. 

So, she was like “what’s going on?” and I choked out something like “we were reading The Little Prince...and...and...” 

She nodded sagely and said “it’s the literature.” Kind of like ‘ah yes, we’ve all been there.’ And just walked on by.

I mean, that was pretty bad-ass. I felt a little resentful that she didn’t stay to figure out what was really going on, but now I can appreciate that her reaction to seeing someone sitting in a corridor crying over a book was that this was a perfectly reasonable and ordinary occurrence & no other explanation needed. That’s a good English teacher right there. 

SO I FINISHED UNSPOKEN TODAY

SO I’m basically dead

the whole I love you  and link cutting part… i just could not.

I COULD NOT

I read it in the few minutes I have in the band hall before class. Here’s how it went:

Me: *is standing and reading Unspoken* *reads aforementioned part*

Me: *actually screams* 

Band Kids: *look at me like I’m the crazy one (keep in mind these are BAND KIDS)*

Me: *curls up into a ball, clutching book to chest, falls on side*

Callie: Heyyyyy…are you okay?

Me: *is actually sobbing curled up in a ball on ground* YES!

Callie: *stares*

Me: NO!

Callie: *drags me to my feet and wrenches book out of hands*

Me: *hisses and grabs book back* *is still crying* *keeps reading anyways*

and my band director… the looks he gave me… and my section leader… and everyone really…

I was in physical, mental, and emotional pain after that book. I mean that wholeheartedly. My chest physically hurt. And my mind felt like I was having Jared or Kami’s mind removed from it. And my emotions…

okay. yup.

@sarahreesbrennan :

this is how you make me feel

Coming into a fandom late