Dudley's Dilemma

Chapter 3

Harry Potter's eyes stared in utter amazement at the envelope clamped in his hand. He could not - no, would not - believe what he was seeing. What could Dudley want with me? he thought desperately. After all these years? What could make him write to me, personally?

A smooth voice sounded behind Harry, in a slightly anxious tone. "Your cousin wrote to you? Your cousin Darrel?" asked Luna in an awed voice.

"Dudley," Harry corrected his wife. "His name's Dudley. And I can't think of one single reason on this entire planet that would cause him to write to me! ME of all people! And what were you doing over at his place anyway?"

Harry had whirled around and pointed a finger at Hedwig, who gave him a "what did I do?" sort of look. She, after all, was only fulfilling her duty as a loyal pet and a mail owl.

"I would never had dreamed that you would go there," said Harry, pulling out a wooden chair padded with a purple and red linen from the table and sitting down. "Of all places, honestly. Well, this better be the first and last time you ever fly over there, because you know how I feel about them. You were there all those years when they treated so badly. How you could ever go over to their place is anyone's guess!"

At this statement, Hedwig gave a reproachful shriek of indignation, lifted her wings, and soared from her silver pedestal out the window again, hitting Harry hard on the head with her wing as she flew by him.

"Ouch!" said Harry as he glared at Hedwig's flying white body, which was already halfway past the forest-like sprout of trees that grew in his family's property. Giving up on fighting with Hedwig, Harry tore open the envelope in anger and hidden excitement. He pulled out the white lined paper and began to read it with squinting eyes, because he was so used to quill and ink on parchment nowadays than paper and pen.

His eyes soon changed from squinting to tennis-ball round again, nearly the same size as a house-elf he had met in his childhood named Dobby, and as he finished the letter his mouth was hanging open so far that it was nearly touching the edge of the table itself.

"What is it?" asked Luna as she bent down to console her husband, her loopy earrings thrashing wildly and her Butterbeer bottle-cap necklace chinking noisily. " You look as if you've just seen a whole army of heliopaths!"

Harry gulped and turned around to his family, to the questioning Luna and to the suspiciously quiet children.

"Children, Luna," he said in a shaky voice that didn't suit him. "You know how I have always said that all your living relatives from my side are Muggles? Well, I've been proved wrong."

Everyone continued to stare at Harry, Luna in an exceptionally curious way (but she looked like that all the time), so he continued. "Isabella, Gordon, Luna- my cousin's daughter, Priscilla Dursley, is a witch."

Luna gasped loudly, causing Harry to jump, but Gordon and Isabella remained stationary, hardly breathing and now staring shiftily at their feet, like the small children they were. It looked as if they were trying their best to keep a deep, dark secret of some sort, or as if they knew something their parent's didn't.

"Well," demanded Harry. "Isn't this incredible, yet also very alarming, news? Aren't you two at all surprised or excited or...something?"

"Yes, why aren't you two astounded?" asked Luna to her children. "This is absolutely amazing, and I don't know why you're not showing some kind of emotion at this chunk of information. When I learned that a herd Crumple-Horned Snorkacks were thriving unknowingly in Britain, I was overwhelmingly ecstatic! Why, me and my old Dad took that trip up to Yorkshire to try and find them two years ago, don't you remember?"

Isabella looked up from her feet and into her mother's blue eyes, her lip trembling ever so slightly. She was obviously trying to keep a steady face to her parents so as to not lose pride in front of her little brother.

"It's-It's..." began Isabella in a shaky voice.

Luna looked at her daughter in yet another curious way. "It's what? Tell us!"

"FINE!" yelled Isabella. "We already knew, okay! We already knew all about Priscilla, and we already knew that she was a witch, and we already knew that Hedwig had been out to go to her house!"

Harry and Luna's eyes widened at the exact same time at this statement. "Knew?" pondered Harry. "Knew! How could you have known? How could you know before us?"

"She's been writing to us," said Gordon courageously, stepping bravely in front of her sister. "All summer! She told us in her first letter that Hedwig turned up at there place 'round the middle of June, when she was starting to wonder what was going on, if you know what I mean. She tol' us that she knew the owl from overhearing her father's rants and raves about you. She said they always talked about how 'weird' and how 'strange' you were, and they talked once or twice about how their grandfather had hated Hedwig."

"Yeah," stepped in Isabella defiantly. "How he hated that 'white fluff-ball', as she put it. She said she had been showing some of her magic over the past year, but they didn't know what it was! Only her dad seemed to know some of the things that were going on, but he wouldn't tell them. Of coarse, she didn't know anything about wizards or witches or magic when she first wrote, so she just thought she was talking with a family of freaks who use birds instead of mailboxes. That was, until we told her the truth."

"The truth?" asked Luna, looking serenely at her children. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means the truth, Mum. It means that we told her she was a witch, and that Grandmother and Grandfather had been witches and wizards too, since that is the only way Muggle-borns can be Muggle-borns. She didn't even know who Grandmother and Grandfather were, but I'm not surprised by that. We told her this was for real, and that she wasn't going crazy, because that's what she told us she thought was going on." answered Isabella. "The way those Muggles taught her to think...."

"In the last letters we swore in them not to tell anyone what was going on, since she was going to get 'er Hogwarts letter soon anyway. Everyone would find out after that, and we just knew your cousin would 'ave to write you, since you're the only magic person he knows." commented Gordon in a breathless, almost secretive voice.

"She was so terrified of what her family would think of her after hearing what they thought of you, Dad. We told her that it would be alright, and to write another letter if she needed us," said Isabella.

All through this amazing provocation, Harry and Luna had remained silent and still, letting their children explain, with overwhelmed eyes, ears, and mouths. This couldn't be true. They thought simultaneously.

"She's really a nice person, once you get to know 'er," pepped up Gordon at hearing his parent's strangely loud silence.

"The thing is, Gordon," said Luna finally, rising from her chair and bending to be face-level with her son, "you don't know her. All you have is letters."

"But that's not true," said Gordon in a voice that was primed at making his mother hear sense. "We do know the real Priscilla, and it's because of the letters."

"Yeah," piped in Isabella. "We only know her by her true personality through those letters, so we can't judge her on anything else besides."

Luna righted herself again and stepped back from Isabella and Gordon, smiling. Harry had risen from his seat, too, and he clamped his wife's shoulder as he said, "You are exactly right, children. I couldn't have put it better myself. Honey," he said to Luna, "we have very smart children."

'Yes, we do," she acknowledged, beaming at her clever children. "And you know they got it from my side. I was in Ravenclaw House."

Gordon and Isabella laughed and Luna returned to her chair with a sly smile on her face, twirling her necklace absentmindedly through her fingers while staring up at the ceiling. Harry chuckled at Luna and also sat down again and brought the letter to his face again.

"It says they want us to come to their home on 2^nd August at 7:00 PM to have dinner and 'discuss things.'" said Harry to his family. "He said that I could take all of you, too. That's unceremoniously kind of him."

"Ooh, Daddy! Can we go, can we please go?" begged Isabella, running to her father and tugging at his arm. "Gordon and I really wanna meet Priscilla, and seeing as I'm going to Hogwarts next year too, we could really have things to talk about!"

"That might not be such a good idea, Isabella," answered Harry. "We don't know how Dudley and his family will react when they find out you two and their daughter have been secretly communicating about magic."

"What about everyone else in Priscilla's family?" asked Luna.

"What about them?" responded Isabella. " Oh Daddy, please! Please!"

Harry turned to his wife and bent to her ear, whispering. Luna nodded and then whispered something into Harry's ear. They looked at each other meaningfully and grabbed each other's hands and turned to face their children's eager young faces.

"Alright," said Luna earnestly. "We'll go. But only if you promise to act as such a fool I am!"

Chapter 4

Over the next two weeks, the Potter household transformed completely. Isabella, who was usually bouncy and energetic most of the time anyway, had boosted her hyperactivity at least three levels. She could be seen most of the summer days singing to herself, skipping through the hallways off her house, picking flowers in the field and making crowns, or else talking (whenever she stopped long enough to talk) almost overwhelmingly about the upcoming dinner at the Dursley's.

Gordon was also acting much more happily than he usually ever allowed himself to be. Slouching, moping, and sighing were how Harry, Luna, and Isabella usually knew Gordon was in their presence, but now they could tell he was coming because of his pronounced humming, his jovial way of saying "Good morning!" or "How are you?" and his increasing adaptability that his sister was going to Hogwarts this year and he wasn't.

Harry, who was usually busy with Ministry work and tried to uphold a sturdy face towards life in general, was now worrying about the tiniest things, from Luna's baking cauldron not being spotlessly clean in between meals cooked in it to one of Hedwig's feathers not being perfectly aligned with the rest. He was usually seen running his hand through his untidy black hair and mumbling under his breath, like he was looking for things to worry about.

Luna, on the other hand, seemed to be the only one neither changed nor even influenced by the dinner, which was fast approaching. Acting as her usual loony self, she seemed to mindlessly drift into different rooms in the house, her half moon earrings dangling wildly. She was the one who spent most of her career at home, being the one in her department that researched old facts and tested the mysterious new theories come up with the other crazy witches and wizards who worked in the department, so she usually watched the children.

"Gordon," she asked her young son mysteriously the afternoon before the dinner. He was busy tying a letter scroll to Hedwig's greying talons in the study, no doubt addressed to Priscilla Dursley, when his mother had floated through the open door, her Butterbeer cap necklace jangling cheerfully around her alabaster neck. She watched as Hedwig spread her majestic white wings and soared out of the open window, across the wide field, over the distant tops of tall trees, and out of sight.

"What did you want, Mummy?" asked Gordon, turning around to face her. His curly hair bounced gaily and his deep brown eyes glistened with happiness. His small blue shirt and khaki pants were slightly dirty. Luna knew why, though. He had been outside, playing with his sister all morning. She bent down.

"Daddy was just in the fire. He said he wanted us all to go up to Muggle London today and get nice and fixed up. He said we all need to look our best for those Muggle relatives of his. Don't see why though," she added as an afterthought. "I think we look just fine the way we were created to be. But, oh well then. He's in a right state, as you very well know, Gordon."

Gordon laughed. "Yeah, I know 'e is," he said, smiling widely, revealing dazzling white teeth which reminded Luna of her first year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart, who had been rendered unconscious with long-term memory loss by Ron Weasley, one of Harry's best friends. He had been sent to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, where, the last Luna had heard, he would be getting out of soon.

"Well, we better get ready to go, you know. He told us told us he'd meet us at the entrance to The Leaky Cauldron at two o'clock," Luna continued, ruffling Gordon's hair slyly. "You've got an hour to wash up!" she called as she moved fluidly out of the study, her long, wavy, dishwater-blonde hair swaying ominously.

"'K, Mum," Gordon called after Luna's retreating back. He saw her absentmindedly run into a coat rack, which was made out of a severed troll's leg, before continuing her way down the long, wood-floored hall to her bedroom.

An hour later, Luna, Gordon, and Isabella were to be found standing together under the sign representing The Leaky Cauldron (which was made out of bronze and featured a tall, shapeless witch stirring a cracked cauldron). They had dressed in Muggle clothes, of course, so as not to attract extremely odd looks from unwary Muggles. Luna was wearing thin tan slacks and a purple blouse and hoodie, Gordon was in a sky blue shirt and blue jacket with blasted jeans, and Isabella was wearing a red long-sleeved shirt with a brown robe-like jacket and brown corduroy pants. It had clearly just stopped raining. A few drops were dripping from The Leaky Cauldron's sign, symbolizing its name even more, and a Muggle taxi sloshed its way by, driving wildly through a puddle on the curb and nearly spraying the threesome with dirty water.

"Ooh!" said Luna excitedly, pointing at the taxi and acting completely oblivious to the near accident. "See, children, that is called a car! It's what Muggles use to get around!"

"Yeah, we saw it!" yelled Isabella angrily. "We almost got soaked by it too, Mum!"

Gordon, Isabella, and Luna all waited impatiently on the curb, shivering slightly from the cold of the weather. Isabella made frequent clicking noises with her mouth, glancing around for her father.

"Where could he be?" she wondered angrily aloud after they had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes. "He's the one who's making us go Muggle anyway, the least he could do is show up!"

"Now, now," dictated Luna sternly. "He's just running a little late. Why don't we go into The Leaky Cauldron to warm up while we wait?"

In the end, everyone agreed to the plan (even Isabella), so the trio traipsed back into the pub through a large wooden door. Once inside, they settled themselves at a small, round side table near a steamy window and began to wait again. As they waited, they watched all the other witches and wizards in the pub, who were busy merrily chatting, swapping potion recipes, and eating. After another ten minutes, Luna ordered Isabella, Gordon, and herself three frothy mugs of warm Butterbeer. The waitwitch brought them to the table and collected the fee, and the group downed them greedily.

It was at the exact moment that Gordon put his mug back onto the tabletop that Harry Potter came into the pub, panting slightly. He was dressed in a thick maroon sweater, blue collared shirt, and tan slacks. He glanced around quickly, spotted his family, and jogged lightly towards their table.

"Sorry!" he quickly apologized to the accusing stares surrounding him. "Got caught at work. Unavoidable."

"Well, this time we'll let you off," Luna said as she smiled and rubbed Harry's arm. "Being an Auror is tough work, or so I've heard."

Luna and her children finished their Butterbeers and quickly set off. They exited the inn and set off down the street, past Muggles worrying about which store to go into, and a group from a local society giving out puppies.

"Ooh! Mum, Mum!" Isabella squealed in delight as she eyed the puppies happily. "Mum, can we-"

"No," said Luna, quickly wiping the beam off of Isabella's face as they neared their destination, a large and fancy looking Muggle department store that sold clothes. The family neared the doors, and as they passed the windows that held the dummies modeling the latest Muggle fashions, Luna's eyes widened so much they were in fear of emerging on either side of her face.

"Dear!" she exclaimed enthusiastically to Harry. "Look at the things Muggles wear!" She thrust her finger toward a lean dummy modeling a slim, flowered tank top and white Capri's, carrying an orange purse. "Are we going to be wearing that to the dinner?"

Harry chuckled and spoke: "No, honey, we're not going to wear things like that to the dinner. We'll be wearing things that are much more fancy."

Luna looked puzzled and then asked him "Why do we need to wear fancy Muggle clothes? I hardly like to wear dress robes, it just isn't me!"

"Because," Harry explained, "My relatives, are, er...well, let's just say, they think highly of themselves and anything that involves them, and it is best we make a good impression when we go. It'll help, believe me. I lived with this man for 17 years, remember."

"Alright," sighed Luna in a resolved tone. "Let's go on in then!"

And with that, the foursome grabbed each other's hands and stepped inside.