Yes, I know that J.K. Rowling announced that Dudley wouldn't have any magical children, but if you're going to insult someone for inaccuracy, go find a Snarry fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Dudley Dursley was a very normal man. He had a relatively successful job at a small local insurance agency, a beautiful house near his parents in Little Winging, and a happy family. He had met his lovely wife, Kate, in a small village where he had stayed for around a year. He had two children, Dustin, 8, and Sarah, 4, who he loved very much and were very obedient. He also had a great many friends, all kind and willing to help him. For Dudley, life was going fine.

That was soon to change. Not in a markedly unpleasant way, but it would change nonetheless. You see, Dudley had an aunt who was a witch. She was dead, and Dudley still kept fairly regular contact with her son, but she received her magical genes from someone.

Dudley was taking a short walk through some nearby gardens with his daughter, skipping in front of him. She was so full of energy that sometimes, Dudley had a hard time keeping up. Dudley was a fairly fit person for his age; he had lost quite a bit of weight from the time when he was young. Still, he liked to take life slowly, to appreciate the little things.

He took a deep sniff of the aromatic scent of nature around him. It was probably the last time he would smell these flowers this year. A storm was coming in, and then it would be autumn.

"Look, Daddy!" exclaimed Sarah, "Flowers!" Dudley smiled affectionately. This was his favorite part of the gardens, and Sarah's too. She was always mildly surprised when she got there. She skipped along, her long hair flowing behind her. "Look, Look!" she repeated. "Daffodils!"

"Those are dandelions, Sarah, but you were close."

"And look at these!" she said in that endearing four-year-old tone. "Roses!" They were dead, but she was as happy with them as the others. "I love these ones!" said Sarah, pointing to a pretty little bunch of tulips. "Do your dance for me!"

Dudley chuckled for a moment, and then went dead silent. His mouth hung open. The tulips were swaying their stems, and the petals were opening and closing, like an actual dance.

"See?!" asked Sarah, with an awkward little flourish.