Harry scrambled up and followed Dudley out of the room. As the door shut behind them, and the full karmic absurdity of the situation hit him, Harry burst out laughing. Dudley-with a magical child. Petunia and Vernon (Vernon!) with a magical grandchild. Harry's aunt and uncle so despised magic-and now their granddaughter, thanks to whatever magic carrier gene lived in Petunia's veins, was a tiny humming hotspot of magical energy. Harry had visions of Daisy losing her temper one day and blowing Vernon up like a balloon to float helplessly through the neighborhood.

The image made Harry laugh harder, until he caught his cousin's stricken gaze as they entered the sitting room. Poor Dudley was plainly confused and frightened by his daughter's abilities. His experiences with magic growing up with Harry were uniformly negative. And while some of them were his own fault, no one could blame Dudley for being wary.

"I'm sorry, Dudley," Harry choked as he struggled to regain his composure. "I don't mean to laugh. But…I'm just thinking…of your parents," he panted. "It's pretty funny."

Dudley just looked more pained. "It's not funny, Harry and you know it." He lowered his voice. "Is it…is it even safe?" he asked urgently, his eyes darting up to Harry's forehead.

Harry's near-hysterical laughter quieted gradually as he traced the scar that had drawn his cousin's attention. "Yes, it's safe now. It's not like before. I promise, Dudley."

He met Harry's eyes awkwardly. He had never asked exactly how it had become safe. They both knew that Dudley didn't really want to know and probably wouldn't understand anyway. But Dudley did understand that the war, and the very hard-won victory which made the wizarding world safe for his daughter, had centered on Harry. He accepted his cousin's reassurance and nodded in a gesture of appreciation.

So, Linda doesn't know about Daisy?" Harry ventured.

"No!" Dudley answered quickly.

"Does Linda know about me?"

Dudley reddened. "Er, no…not exactly."

"Right," Harry quipped. "Well, I guess the dirty little family secret has to come out now, doesn't it?" he finished, a bit more nastily than he had intended.

Dudley opened his mouth to argue but then pursed his lips tightly and shut his eyes for a moment, giving a small shake of his head. "Look, I'm sorry, Harry. And I know on some level this is all quite hilarious for you, I get it. Have a good laugh; I suppose you've earned it. But I'm frightened. And Linda is going to be frightened. And Mum and Dad…bloody hell, they are going to go mental." He looked back up at Harry. "You're the only one I can turn to. What do we do with her?" he asked, panic rising in his voice. "How do we prepare her? How do we keep her safe? How do we keep ourselves safe? What do we tell our parents? What happens when she goes to school?"

"Dudley, Dudley, calm down!" Harry shouted, grasping his cousin by his large, meaty shoulders. "This happens all the time-magical children born into Muggle families. You learn, you adjust." He caught Dudley's frantic eyes. "Our grandparents were quite happy to learn their daughter was a witch! Confused, at first, I'm sure…but they sorted it out."

A flash of memories, not his own, raced through his mind—a woman and man beaming with curiosity and wonder as they walked their boisterous red haired daughter and her best friend, a pale, wary black haired boy, down a bustling train platform-their blonde daughter trailing behind, her eyes clouded with pain and envy; a spray of holly, whipped out of thin air for a Christmas party, as the woman cried out in delight and hugged the now-taller red haired girl close, the same pale young man watching solemnly from the edge of the family—unwanted in his own home, uncomfortable in hers but content to simply be near her.

Harry swallowed hard as the images washed over him, quickly evaporating like morning mist. He squeezed Dudley's shoulders quickly before dropping his hands.

He sighed. "Look-when does Linda get back?"

"Monday afternoon," Dudley replied quickly.

Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair, running through his family's diary in his head.

"Right." Harry adjusted his glasses. "Ginny and I can come round on Wednesday night. Are you and Linda free then?"

"Yes—yes, that works," his cousin exclaimed, relief flooding his features. "Come round for dinner and…and…"

"A chat," Harry finished for him. "A very long…very weird chat."

The two men just looked at each other for a moment, and then they both burst out laughing until Dudley's eyes watered and Harry choked and they both had to sit down before they fell down.

"Listen," Harry gasped, after a few moments. "I should get going. I promised Lily I'd play some one-on-one Quidditch with her in the back garden before dinner."

Dudley, wiping his eyes, stared at him quizzically.

"Quidditch," Harry cried. "You know, the Chasers have to get the Quaffle past the Keeper, while the Seeker flies around looking for the…" He stopped and dissolved into another peal of hysterical laughter. "Oh God, of course you don't know-but you will!" Harry continued chuckling as he picked up his coat and moved to the door. "You will!" he promised.

Dudley still looked pale but calmer and more relaxed than when Harry had first arrived. As he opened the door, he extended his hand to his cousin. "Thanks, Harry," he said, sincerely. "Thanks—for everything."

Déjà vu washed over Harry as he took Dudley's hand. "It's going to be alright, you know. I mean, yes, your parents will go absolutely mental." They both grinned. "But you and Linda will be alright. Daisy will be alright," he stressed. "Ginny and the kids and I—we'll help you; we'll be here." He paused before adding simply, "We're family."

Because for perhaps the first time, ever, Harry actually did feel like Dudley was his family.

Harry smiled. "All will be well," he promised.