Daisies • HP Next Generation

No More Hiding

Just a short note: I don't think I've ever mentioned all the other brilliant stories about Dudley's Daughter that inspired me. My plot will be entirely different from all of those I have read, but so many 'Dudley's Daughter' stories inspired me to try it for myself. I have sent private messages to two of the authors thanking them (both on fanfiction not on wattpad), here they are:

Dudley's Daughter by theinkwell33

Dudley's Daughter by thepotterheadtwihard

Unfortunately, the other stories I looked at I read before I had an account on any writing sites, and I don't remember what they were called.

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Dudley Dursley had a lot to think about. Anyone in his situation would. His oldest daughter had left that day to go to a school for magic, and only an hour after they got back home, his mother, a hater of all things magical, had called saying that she and her husband would be coming around for dinner.

Thoughts were speeding around Dudley's head, running into each other, causing doubt and worry. Poppy had needed to take the stack of plates out of his hands after he absentmindedly tipped the top one forwards, and watched it shatter on the wood floor without blinking.

What would he, what could he tell his parents? They surely knew that Daisy was gone. That was probably the reason they were coming by in the first place.

Dudley still hadn't thought of what he would do when the doorbell rang. Anna went down the hallway to get the door, as Dudley laid the last dishes out on the table. He could hear the cheerful exchange of greetings between Anna, Poppy, and his parents. The usual comments were said, how lovely their house looked, how much Poppy had grown, and then came the foreseeable question.

"And where's Daisy?" Dudley wasn't sure if the tone his father used was curt, but not quite angry, smug, or simply curious, although he doubted it was the latter.

"She got the train to school today," Poppy replied. Her words were smooth, and came out easily. Either Poppy was just very good at keeping calm, or she had no idea how much her grandparents had worked to keep themselves away from magic.

Even when Wizards had protected them from Lord Voldemort, or "Lord Moldywart" as his father insisted on calling him. His parents never forgave wizards for taking them away from their home. They were determined to place the blame on all magical people, not just those who had meant them harm.

...

It had been days since Dudley had seen his home, or the boy they had left behind in it. Not that it should matter to him. Dudley hated the feeling of regret that kept catching up to him, no matter which way he turned.

The doubt had started with the dementor attack. He had started to think that everything his parents had told him about Harry, and everyone like him, might not be the true story, but a biased account of it told by people who were scared of losing their reputation.

And then there was the fact that Harry was kind. Although he wasn't very nice to Harry, Dudley didn't ignore his cousin as much as people seemed to think. After his gang went home on some nights, he would go spy on his cousin. Often times he would be helping a younger kid that Dudley had kicked, punched, or verbally hurt.

And the guilt slowly began worming into his heart.

Dudley had stopped leading his gang that last summer. He didn't want to hurt people anymore, not just because they were there, and not because he felt more powerful. That was not the way to gain power. He didn't want people to fear him, he wanted them to respect, and trust him. All summer, Dudley tried to perform little acts of kindness towards Harry. He'd added one more piece of bacon to Harry's plate (without anyone noticing) before it was given to him. He tried to clean up some of his old stuff that was laying around in Harry's way. He had left Harry a cup of tea outside his bedroom door one day.