Dudley Dursley walked along the high street, looking out for any shops where he might be able to buy a Christmas present for his mother. He'd had a relatively easy time finding things for his father, and Aunt Marge, so he was just scouring all the shops on the high street to find something his mother would like and would find useful. Something that fulfilled both of these criteria was apparently hidden away in some shop in a small nook in the far reaches of Little Whinging.

Dudley spent what felt like forever wandering around department stores and kitchenware stores until he found a small shop tucked between a Specsavers and a NatWest branch, one which seemed far bigger on the inside that it looked to be on the outside. It was full of a seemingly endless supply of strange items, all of them beautiful in their own way, and Dudley wandered around it in a daze until he found a present he was almost certain his mother would love.

He paid for the tea set and carefully put it in his bag, before heading to the car park and driving home, taking care in the rain and heavy traffic. He'd had his own car and his own home since just after he and his parents had moved back to Little Whinging, about a year and a bit after they'd first left, and that had been almost a year ago.

He pulled into the parking space outside his house, grabbing the bags full of presents from the back. He unlocked the door and noticed the collection of letters and cards on the door mat and made a mental note to pick them all up later. He made his way into his small living room and placed his bags on the floor before going in search of the wrapping paper, scissors and Sellotape.

Having spent far longer than perhaps he should have messing around with the Sellotape because he'd lost the end again, he sat down at the table and started wrapping presents. As he was doing so, he thought about the first presents he'd ever really wrapped and hoped that his skills had improved since then. All the presents seemed to end up a mess anyway, but he did sometimes wish he could give his cousin a present for his birthday or Christmas, to prove that he'd meant it when he said that Harry wasn't a waste of space.

It was then that Dudley looked up and glanced out of the window and saw an owl in the tree in his neighbour's garden. Even his strange childhood with its multiple owls hadn't made him do anything more than shrug at the thought of an owl in a tree, because where else was a bird supposed to spend its time, but what unnerved him about this owl was that it looked right at him. It reminded him a lot of Harry's owl, and he felt a pang of loss for the bird he was almost certain had died and hoped Harry had had a chance to say goodbye, hadn't been too badly affected, but he didn't know. Not knowing how Harry was, if he was even alive, was what worried Dudley most, but he had no idea how to contact his cousin.

If this owl was at all like Hedwig, perhaps Harry was attempting to contact him. Dudley pushed his chair away from the table and raced for the door mat, grabbing the letters and looking through them until he found one without a postmark, even if it did have a stamp in the correct place, and with what he suspected was Harry's scrawl on the front with Mr D. Dursley written carefully. No address. This had definitely been delivered by an owl. Why had Harry even bothered with the stamp? Owls had never needed stamps before.

Dudley sat back down as he tore the envelope open, and unfolded the letter which was wrapped around a Christmas card which seemed to have been bought at Sainsbury's, which seemed to have been written slowly, one word at a time, to make it as legible as possible.

Dear Dudley,

I hope you're doing well, and I'm sorry I didn't contact you before this, but given the way we parted I didn't know if a letter would be welcome. I never got a chance to thank you for the cup of tea, even if I did accidentally break the cup, and I never realised you cared about me. Thank you, for growing up, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to spare you from the insanity that was my life.

It's better now, although the losses from the war still hurt sometimes. We won, though, so you don't need to worry for your safety anymore. You can live your life as if everything's normal. But I'm writing to ask if you want to exchange Christmas cards every year? I can use the Muggle (non-magical) post to send them to you, but you have to give me your address. I haven't yet managed to make my house visible to regular postmen, but I'll make an effort if you'd prefer to use snail mail. For now, I asked the owl to wait around until you read the letter. If you want to send something back, just give it to him, and he'll find me. If you don't want to, just ignore him. I'm sorry I couldn't send Hedwig, but she didn't make it past the night when we last saw each other, and I haven't managed to replace her yet.

All the best,

Harry

Dudley placed the letter on the table and then leaned forward and opened the window. Seconds later the owl was perched on the back of the other chair. "Wait here," he said and then looked at his pile of unused Christmas cards. He searched for one that he thought Harry would like and hastily signed it, before scribbling his address and putting a note under it on the blank part opposite the Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year message.

Harry,

I didn't expect to hear from you ever. I'm sorry you lost people, and I hope you're doing okay now. I'm sorry I was so awful to you when I was younger. I'd love to exchange Christmas cards, but I'm not quite ready to do post your way yet. Snail mail will have to do, if that's okay.

Best wishes,

Dudley

He placed the card in an envelope and sealed it before writing Harry Potter on the front and turning to the owl. "This is supposed to go to Harry Potter. Please give it to him." The owl blinked at him, flapped a couple of times and then was gone through the window. Dudley returned to wrapping the presents and hoped he'd be able to be a better cousin to Harry from now on.