A/N: This is a follow up to my very short FF called "Afternoon Tea at Privet Drive." So if you want to read that first, it shouldn't take you much time. But if you don't feel like looking for it, don't worry! I pretty much summarize it in this first post.

Prologue:

Vernon Dursley paced back and forth in his tidy, sensible kitchen, his breathing ragged. He gripped at his salt and pepper mustache, yanking the hair out by the roots. He had not been driven to this desperate measure in more than fifteen years.

His wife, Petunia, sat rigidly at the kitchen table, clutching a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. Occasionally, she would shift slightly, straightening her clothes or brushing imaginary lint from her sweater. She stared fixedly at a spot on the wall above the stove to avoid catching her husband's eye.

Their thirty-two-year-old son Dudley leaned against the doorframe, feeling both uneasy and irritated. His gaze drifted from one parent to the other. He was worried about his mother. She had fainted earlier that day. Although she had come around quickly, she remained pale and she had not spoken since. Dudley's father on the other hand, had not shut up all evening. However, no one had understood a word because all of Vernon's garbled mutterings had been completely unintelligible.

All this fuss was over Dudley's five-year-old son, Evan. In one afternoon, Evan had destroyed the perfect, ordinary life Vernon and Petunia had enjoyed for the last fifteen or so years. The life they felt they earned after raising their nephew, Harry. Harry Potter had been "strange," "unnatural," and "abnormal." More to the point, he was a wizard. Just like Evan.

Mere hours ago, Ev had set the contents of the bathroom flying around of their own accord and later at lunch, he made a plate of cookies slide across the table into his reach. Dudley had opened his mouth in an attempt to explain magic to Gianna, his wife, when she made a startling revelation: She had a brother who was a wizard.

Dudley had barely had time to inform Gianna that the "magic gene" was on his side of the family as well before he realized his father was about to fly into a rage. He asked her to take Evan home so Dudley could have some time with his parents. Gianna threw a quick glance at Vernon and seemed all too happy to leave.

Dudley thought about trying to call her; she probably didn't think that he would be this late coming home.

"We could fix him," said Vernon suddenly, louder and more clearly. "I really think we could. We just didn't try hard enough with Potter. Just ignoring it wasn't enough. Now that we know that, we can try other things… We'll talk to him about it. We'll make him see sense. And he will not go to that Hogwash school. There must be other things we could try, too. We could– we could–" Vernon looked wildly back and forth between Dudley and Petunia. "Maybe a therapist? We could send him to a priest–"

At this, Dudley couldn't remain silent any longer. "I'm not sending him to a shrink or a priest! He's not possessed, Dad." He forced himself to keep his tone calm. "And he's not crazy. He's a little kid. I'm not traumatizing him by sending him to a priest or pumping him full of drugs… I knew you were going to react like this. That's why I wasn't going to tell you!"

"You knew?" barked Vernon.

"About 30 minutes before you did," Dudley admitted.

Vernon let out a snarl. "This is all that woman's fault," he suddenly seethed, referring to Gianna. "I never liked her, you know. I had a bad feeling about her from the start!"

Dudley let out a scoff. Quite the contrary! While Petunia never warmed to Gianna, Vernon had been taken with her immensely. "Well, if you hadn't of sent me on that business trip to Italy, I never would have met her. So maybe… it's all your fault."

Vernon's eyes bulged and he proceeded to splutter more nonsense.

"You know, I'm not exactly thrilled with it, either," Dudley admitted. "More than five years into it and I'm still nervous enough about being a parent. And this- this thing- magic, wizardry, whatever it is- just adds a whole mess of complications that I'm not sure how I'll be able to handle. But there's nothing we can do about it. So just let it go! Deal with it and move on!"

"NO!" Vernon roared. "It is unacceptable! I can't- I will not allow- Not in my family-!" Vernon broke off, breathing heavily.

Dudley glared at his father. "What are you so upset about?" His voice is much harsher than he intended. "I mean, Mum's issues, I can understand. But why do you hate it so much?"

"He blew up my sister! Remember?" Vernon bellowed.

"Yeah, about 10 years after you treated him like –"

"What about that pig's tail?" Vernon huffed. "That wasn't exactly a picnic for you. Not to mention the money to cost me to remove it."

Dudley fidgeted. That was still a sore spot. He didn't have anything to say.

Luckily, Petunia had finally found her voice. "What do you mean you understand my issues?" Her voice was lifeless.

Dudley, so relieved for the change of topic, said completely without thinking, "Just something that Harry said to me a few years ago." He sucked in a sharp breath, wishing he could take the words back. He had promised Harry that he would never, ever mention that conversation to Petunia or Vernon. Instead of telling his mother that he knew she had been intensely jealous of her sister, Dudley told her, "He said that uh…someone told him that it was hard for you to be apart from Lily." What was that professor's name? "Dumblesomething… He told Harry that you were used to looking out for her… Because she was your younger sister…" he invented wildly.

Petunia finally turned her face away from the wall to look at Dudley. "You've seen… him?"

Dudley nodded.

"How often?"

Vernon gaped in horror, as if Petunia had asked if Harry could move back into the cupboard under the stairs.

Dudley ignored him and answered his mother. "I found him about six years ago. My dentist's daughter married his brother-in-law. Isn't that funny? I only see him about… once a year around summer. His kids are about Ev's age."

Petunia hesitated then asked, "He has kids?"

"Yeah… Erm. Three. Two boys and a little girl. And a ton of nieces and nephews; about 10, I think. He's married to a girl with lots of brothers." That was pretty much all that Dudley knew. His conversations with Harry were mostly pretty limited. They usually just sat together in silence while they watched their kids run around the yard and their wives had tea in the kitchen.

"Will you two stop discussing this?" interrupted Vernon. "Potter's not our concern anymore, remember? He put us all in danger and then at least had the decency to get the hell out of our house. Now, can we please focus on the problem at hand? Evan?"

"Problem?" demanded Dudley, finally turning away from Petunia. "My son… is a problem?" He glared at his father. "You know what? Don't expect me at work on Monday… I quit."

Vernon didn't respond, but several emotions passed over Vernon's face: hurt, confusion, anger.

"Get out," Petunia snapped suddenly, standing up.

Dudley's eyes flicked over to his mother, shocked. He swallowed and discovered that his throat hurt. He made his way over to the door.

"Not you," Petunia said. She was speaking to Vernon. Her voice rung out, loud and clear. "Leave right now. And don't come back until you remember that Evan is your grandson."

Vernon stood there, unable to move.

"GO!" shouted Petunia.

Very slowly, Vernon made his way across the kitchen, out of the room and towards the foyer. The sound of the door banging shut echoed throughout the house like a gunshot.

Petunia heaved a heavy sigh and collapsed back into the kitchen chair. She buried her face in her hands. Dudley sat down next to her.

"Mum-" Dudley started but had no idea what to say.

Petunia took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. She turned to Dudley and patted his head, just like she used to do when he was little. Straightening the collar of his shirt, she said, "I'm sure if you ask… him… he'll help you and Evan deal with this. But… Vernon and I… we're not going to want to hear about it." She paused, noticing the time on the clock. "You better get home. It's late."