The Boy Who Lived

That Lot!

At 9.30am on Christmas Eve 2002, Petunia Dursley carefully locked the front door to No.4, Privet Drive and turned to face the imposing black car that had been sent to pick her up. She took a deep breath as she smoothed her knee-length lilac tunic dress and matching long coat and touched her hat lightly. She was unused to such attire but Dudley had insisted on spoiling her. It was cold but it didn't smell of snow yet and the sun was actually shining for once that December.

Dudley stepped forward to take her bag and she smiled in appreciation. He looked so very smart. He wore a full traditional morning suit with grey stripped trousers and the long black jacket to mid-thigh. He even had the top hat. He had hired his suit; said he wanted to dress properly for his cousin, especially as Harry had asked him to be an usher and sent him the waistcoat. The waistcoat was petrol-blue and embroidered with large pink honeysuckle flowers and gold leaves. He wore a plain matching cravat and had a matching pocket handkerchief too. Petunia was very proud; he'd grown up into a lovely boy.

As Dudley placed her overnight bag in the trunk, squashing it in between the baby paraphernalia, she knew the neighbours' curtains were twitching.

She smiled at her son as she walked towards the car that was parked on her driveway - so proud of him.

A very tall and broad man dressed entirely in a black suit with an earpiece, like a bodyguard to the famous, held open the car door for her. She looked up at him with a meek smile. He had a chauffeur's hat absurdly balanced on his head because it was too small for him. He looked nearly normal, for one of that lot. Harry had arranged the car for them, he said it was the only way they'd be able to get into the grounds of Beaumont Hall.

Dudley got into the car on the other side to join his fiancée, Ronica, and their baby daughter, Daisy. Daisy wasn't planned but Dudley was determined to the right thing by Ronica and loved his daughter with all his heart. The little girl filled Petunia's heart with joy, something she hadn't experienced for such a long time. Even Dudley's birth had come with its fill of anxiety, but by then Vernon was already telling her she was doing everything wrong. Maybe, she thought ruefully, she hadn't felt true joy since she was a child. From before when Lily met that freakish boy with the black hair and sallow complexion who lived on the other side of Cokeworth. She had been jealous; she knew that now. Jealous of her sister when she should have been celebrating her uniqueness with her.

Dudley took the large flat gift she carried as she carefully clipped the seatbelt across her. She smiled in appreciation. Until Dudley had mentioned that Harry was researching his family history and gathering portraits together, she hadn't known what to get him and his... husband. She was still getting used to the idea that he was marrying another man but then Dudley had said surely it didn't matter so long as they loved each other and treated each other with kindness and respect. Besides, Harry was the same man who'd stood up in court for her, he was the same man Dudley went out for beers with every couple of months. Who Harry slept with didn't change how he was as a person. And he still cared. There had been that strange business a few months ago when Dudley and Ronica and Daisy had arrived on the doorstep with a man who looked remarkably like the chauffeur and they stayed for nearly week and then were told they could go home. She supposed Dudley was right, it was always about what was in Harry's heart. It was just Vernon had very strong opinions on such matters and it was hard to shake that mindset after years of being bullied by it.

She carefully flattened her dress and held out her hands to take the present back but Dudley shook his head and kept hold of it. She adjusted her hat again.

'Stop touching it, mum, it looks lovely. You look lovely,' said Dudley.

The car was surprisingly spacious inside, despite the three of them and the baby carrier in the back. She didn't dare look out of the windows, the landscape seemed to be passing unnaturally fast and she had to squeeze her eyes shut as the huge car wove between other road users with surprising ease in a way that seemed to defy logic. Instead, she focused on inspecting her daughter-in-law (to be). Ronica was wearing a very sparkly gold and sequined fishtail dress and a white fur stole. It had a plunging neck line with some complex spaghetti-strapping across her shoulders. Petunia supposed it showed off Ronica's dark skin beautifully and she did have some fabulous curves that made Petunia feel more like an ironing board than usual. The dress looked a little too Hollywood in Petunia's opinion but who was she to judge these young people these days.