The picture of his firstborn was cast aside when Petunia first received it, but after going through the motions of her day, she found herself peering at the picture once more.

Same messy, jet-black hair. “It never stayed for anything,” she mumbled to herself.

“What’s that, honey?”

“Our nephew’s hair. It was deplorable, don’t you remember?” she asked in a disgusted tone. “Their baby, dear. He has the messy hair.” Petunia got a grunt in response.

The picture was placed on their fridge, next to the pictures of Dudley’s only child, a girl. It was all the past, after all.