Chapter Text
It was a regular Monday morning for the Parker family, until an owl tried to break through the dining room window. Dudley had changed in the twenty five years since he had gone into hiding. While his father had come out hating magic even more, Dudley had almost completely changed. Unable to be coddled, Dudley had for the first time in his life actually done his fair share of work, and seen people willing to put their lives down on the line for him, even if they didn’t know him at all. He also saw scary stuff. It made him think hard about his life. Since then, he’d changed. He’d never be a genius, but he’d taken a four year degree at community college. Taken up boxing professionally, then decided he’d had enough of being in the ring and become a coach and gym teacher for the high school. It was grueling work, especially when, due to budget cuts, he ended up teaching health, but he muddled through. He would never have made it, were it not for his wife. Amelia Parker was his science TA in the second year, a pretty young woman with brown skin and curly ash brown hair, and despite what everyone said about her dating policy, he’d managed to convince her to go out on a date. Almost two decades later and he woke up every morning to his wife’s smiling face. Everything was going great.
On the particular morning, it was rather hectic. The twins were not happy about summer camp--they had gotten in trouble the previous day. Ace and Clemency had been working together on a craft project during free time, when some kids tried to steal it from him. The counselors weren’t entirely sure how the eyebrows of the thieves had been singed off, when the project was incapable of doing anything and no lighters or matches had been found on their person, but the twins were still in trouble. This made for quite the sullen breakfast.
Amelia and Dudley had decided to make an elaborate breakfast instead of the usual toast and eggs or fruit and cereal, attempting to have a nice relaxed morning before the kids had to go to their usual activities, but it wasn’t working out so well. Neither Ace nor Clem were talking much, other then whispers to each other and glares when they realized they were being watched. Ace was frequently being caught sneaking his breakfast to Socks and Joan, the families two always happy dogs. Meanwhile, Dudley could see that Clemency was anxious about the upcoming day, since she kept braiding and unbraiding her golden curls.
Their oldest daughter, Margaret or “Peggy,” fifteen years old and far too smart for her own good, in Dudley’s opinion was reading an SAT prep book instead of eating. Except for pausing every once in a while to push up her glasses or pull a blond hair out of her face, Peggy’s hazel eyes were glued to the information contained inside the book. He supposed it was better than what some of his friends had to deal with. If she so much as mentioned a boy, he thought his head might explode. Jack, the baby of the family at two years old, with skin darker than Dudley’s but lighter than Amelia’s, had decided he no longer liked anything other than fried bread and jam, and was attempting to grind beans into his brown hair, blue eyes squinted up as he laughed at Amelia’s attempts to stop him.
So of course that was the perfect moment for an owl to divebomb the window. Dudley, trying to work through the newspaper, at first thought it was one of the kids. “Quiet, you lot,” he muttered. Nobody heard, but he didn’t hear it again for a few minutes. Then, right in the middle of the sports section, Dudley turned the page and--CLICK CLICK. “Bloody hell, what is it?” Dudley threw down his newspaper and looked around for the sound. Then he saw the owl.
Dudley had never told his children about their cousin. He had told Amelia about Harry and the whole magic deal, but she’d thought he was joking when he told her years ago, and they hadn’t brought it up since. To be honest, Dudley hadn’t thought of his younger cousin in years. For a while Dudley had considered trying to reconcile with Harry, but Dudley just came up with excuses every time. According to his mother, Harry had sent a few Christmas cards at some point, but Mum was always quick to add within her husbands hearing that they had never responded, hoping he’d think they had moved. Dudley hadn’t actually seen an owl in twenty five years. Long enough to almost think the magical world was a fantastic game they’d played as kids. But he knew he wasn’t hallucinating the owl. Especially when Jack, momentarily distracted from his beans, shrieked. “Daddy, Daddy, owl!” Before he could respond, the owl chose that moment to squawk impatiently. Apparently it was smart enough to realize someone was paying attention.
After thirty seconds of silence as the family stared, Dudley realized he had no choice. He walked over to the window and pulled up the sash. Immediately the owl swooped in and landed on the table, managing to avoid landing in the platter of sausages and bacon. It looked at him grumpily, as if to say, about time, then began pecking at a sausage. Amelia looked too shocked to say anything, but Peggy shrieked. “Dad, why’d you let it in? It probably has bugs!”
Dudley ignored his daughter and reached for the owl, unfastening the letter on it’s leg. The owl must have been used to this, since it didn’t pause in devouring sausage at all.
Turning over the envelope, he read the scrawled name on the front. Immediately all the color that had remained in his face drained away. The twins watched him curiously, and Amelia came around and took the letter from him. “Dudley and Amelia Parker, from Harry Potter.” She gave him a funny look. “Hon, isn’t that your cousins name?”
Dudley swallowed hard. “Y-yup. That’s the one.”
Amelia frowned. “He sends letters through owls?”
“Yeah.”
“This is going to take a while.” It wasn’t a question. Amelia turned to the kids.
“Ace, Clemency, go get ready for camp. Peggy, if you could make sure Jack’s clean and put him in his playpen, you can go to your room until it’s time to go.” The twins left the table immediately, Peggy more slowly.
Once the kids were out of the room, Amelia gently pushed Dudley until he was sitting down, then pulled a chair next to him. The owl chose this moment to fly out of the house, a sausage still in it’s claws half-eaten, but they didn’t notice. “Alright, let’s see what this says, shall we?”
“Fine,” Dudley muttered, knowing his wife well enough to know she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Amelia slid her fingernail under the envelope flap, and pulled out a crisp sheet of parchment. “Alright, let’s see...
“Dear Dudley,
No doubt you’re surprised to see an owl--it’s been twenty-five years after all. I hope it didn’t disturb your family too much, but the post would have taken too long for this. I’m writing because the names of your twins popped up on the list of muggle-born wizards of school age and the protocol is for a school teacher to be assigned to assist the new student and family in learning about the necessary details and adjust to the wizarding world. This is found to be more effective than simply sending the normal acceptance letter.
In your childrens case, the teacher assigned is myself, and as of such I will be arriving at your house around one o’clock. A warning seemed prudent. In addition, I will have two of my children, as they will also be starting this year, and knowing a few students before they begin might help with adjusting.
Seeing you soon.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter”
Amelia stared at Dudley. “Dudley...this--you--magic...” She seemed unable to finish a sentence.
Dudley put a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her even though the letter made him scared. “It’s fine, Amelia, really. Remember what I told you about what happened when I was eighteen?”
“Well, yes, but--”
“But you thought I was having a laugh, I know.” Amelia looked very guilty now. “I’m not upset, don’t think that.”
“So...” Amelia paused. “So you were really telling the truth.”
“Yes. I don’t really understand a lot, but yeah, magic is real.”
“And our children are magic.”
“According to this letter, yeah.”
“Oh.” Amelia took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose the kids had better get dressed then, if your cousin will be here in...” She glanced at the kitchen clock. “...two hours. Can you call the camp to tell them the twins won’t be coming today and drive Peggy to her lessons?”
“Of course.” Dudley didn’t know how his wife, who knew even less about the wizarding world then him, was taking it better then him, but he wasn’t going to question it that much. At least someone was taking control of the situation.