#*oc*

Marion Lokist!!!

Quote: "4ND 7H47'5 WHY 1 W4NN4 HELP EM Y4KNOW, C4U5E 7HEYRE GONN4 D1E... 2]:("

Unh

Theme!!!: retro 80s things, vaporwave stuff, snakes, magical girl things

“4ND 7H47'5 WHY 1 W4NN4 HELP EM Y4KNOW, C4U5E 7HEYRE GONN4 D1E... 2]:(”

Marion Lokist // OC

So he summons the courage of a lion and begins his investigation. It takes several weeks for him to finally think of the best way to contact him. It’s so simple but it turns out to be ingenious. He posts an ad in the paper: DUDLEY DURSLEY SEEKING CORRESPONDENCE FROM HARRY POTTER. CALL XXX-XXXX.

It’s the Muggle paper, of course, but he knows that his cousin is a magical spy of sorts and that their government watches over people like him. Sure enough, three days after the posting, his phone rings. Dudley nearly drops it and by the time he manages to catch it and answer, he’s afraid that he’s missed his chance. So he’s a bit animated as he cries, “Hullo? Yes? Hullo? Harry?”

He remembers back to that summer when one of his cousin’s friends had screamed into the phone. What if Harry had forgotten how to use it? What if---?

“Hey, Big D.”

His voice is reserved but friendly enough, considering the circumstances. There’s a pause so long that Dudley begins panicking, wondering if he had hung up. Then: 

“All right?” Harry asks.

“Erm---no,” Dudley admits. “I was wondering if we could meet properly?”

They awkwardly get through the details and the next morning, Dudley finds himself standing in front of a small cafe near St. Pancreas. In his hand is a tinier hand, belonging to his eleven-year-old daughter. Peony keeps her head down as Dudley takes her into the little restaurant. Harry is standing right inside. Dudley was expecting him to be in some colorful gown but he’s instead in a polished suit. At first glance, he appears to look normal.

There’s some awkward initial greetings between the two adults.

“Dad,” Peony finally murmurs. “I want to go.”

“In a minute,” Dudley whispers back. “Why don’t you go look at the sweets in the display? Go on. I just need to talk to your---erm---Harry.”

She keeps her eyes trained to the floor and stares at the sweets on the lower shelves, trying her best to fit in with the other hungry children hoping for samples, trying her best to not look like a freak. On the other side of the room, Harry and Dudley sit at a small table and make small-talk as they dig into their croissants. They both keep an eye on the child. 

“Your daughter?” Harry asks with the fondness of a father.

“Peony,” Dudley says, nodding. “Do you have any---?”

“Three,” says his proud cousin. “James and Albus are a little older than she is but Lily’s about the same age. My wife’s been talking about having another but---” He pauses when he notices how crestfallen his cousin looks. “Sorry, did I say something? Dudley?”

“Erm, my wife died last year,” Dudley admits as Harry winces. “There was an accident. Peony, well, she hasn’t been the same since. I’ve been trying my best but I’ve been on my own. Mum went a bit mad. She said that she wanted a normal granddaughter.” Harry doesn’t have the heart to tell him that his mother had always been a bit mad. He’s the perfect audience member as Dudley continues: “Dad doesn’t want her to be sent off to some ‘special school’.” He uses air-quotes and Harry’s suddenly reminded of his eldest son. “He said that he won’t fund it. Or us. I’ve been working two jobs and we get by. I’m just worried about her. She knows she’s different and she---well---I thought maybe you could talk to her?”

“Me?” Harry glances at the back of the small girl. It’s not that he’s against it; he’s more than willing to have a conversation. He just doesn’t want to say something wrong and make it worse. “What would I even---?”

“I dunno,” Dudley admits. “You’re just---you’re the only one I know who---I don’t want to be like them, Harry. I don’t want to treat her like they treated you. I want to do good by her, to do good by Evangeline. I just want my daughter to be happy. People have been calling her a freak. People like Dad.”

That’s enough for Harry, who puts his napkin down on his plate and crosses the room. The other children, sensing a man on a mission, quickly race away, lest the mission be to reprimand them for any of their misdeeds. Only Peony remains, her face still facing the ground.

“Peony,” Harry gently says. “I’m your Uncle Harry. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“No,” she snaps. “Go away.”

“I was just going to say that I like your glasses,” he coaxes. “They’re round, just like mine. See?”

She turns to spare a look. And she does see. Not only the glasses but what lies above them. For the first time in a year, the girl keeps her head up for more than a few seconds, gaping up at Harry with a sense of wonder. It’s a little awkward but he brushes off the feeling to smile down at her, said smile widening as she asks:

“You have a scar too?”

“Mmhm.” Harry sits down on the floor, his back against the display case. He pats the floor and she sits beside him. “It’s not as cool as yours, though.”

“Oh, erm---” She touches her forehead and feels the jagged line. For a moment, her face becomes so clouded that Harry’s afraid he’s already messed up. But then she looks up at his and gives him a reserved smile. “Were you in a car accident, too?”

Harry marvels at the irony before saying, “No but I’ve had it since I was very young.”

“Did people---?”

“Yeah, they were awful,” Harry admits and she giggles at his frankness. “They would call me a freak all the time. They would say that I was different, that I was special---”

The giggle turns into a sniff and she says, “Me too. I don’t wanna go to a special school. My teacher said they could help me with my reading and my memory but---but I don’t want to be special.”

“Oh, believe me,” Harry says with a grin. “There’s nothing wrong with a special school. Even if it’s a bit different. I bet you’ll have loads of adventures and you’ll make new friends and you’ll be brilliant. That’s how it was for me.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he says. “Besides, being different isn’t all that bad. It’s the normal people you have to watch out for.”

She giggles again before sobering. “But don’t you ever wish you didn’t have the scar?”

“Sometimes,” Harry admits. “But my teacher once told me that someone had told her that scars can come in handy.”

“B-but how would my scar come in handy?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” he says. “But I bet it’ll make for a wicked story.”

Seemingly satisfied, Peony stands up and helps Harry to his feet. The two walk hand-in-hand, back to the table where a beaming Dudley awaits.

The visits after that didn’t begin with an awkward start. They were filled with life and love, the same emotions that poured from Peony’s eyes whenever Harry would appear at their front door. 

He and Dudley decided to wait awhile before telling her that magic was real. For Dudley’s daughter wasn’t magical. She was as Muggle as they came. And yet, he still reached out to his cousin. He still sought his advice, his companionship. The two still forged a family. It didn’t take magic to do that. It just took love. 

And though Harry knew that Peony would face troubles because of her differences, he also knew that the scar would no longer pain her. 

All was well.

---

She hits pixie cut

Her legs are redesigned aswell, New clothes.

also if u have not noticed I have a watermark now.