"What's that?" his mum asked, turning away from the stove.
"It's a letter . . ." Dudley held it up. ". . . from Harry."
"Oh." She turned away from him. "You should read it."
Dudley stared at his mother in amazement. "Really?"
She hacked some peppers into small chunks, avoiding his eyes. "Or don't. It doesn't really matter what that freak has to say."
Dudley sliced open the envelope, pulled out the letter, and silently read:
3 July 1998
You've probably guessed, since you're back at Privet Drive, but Voldemort, that wizard that was trying to kill me, is dead. So you can forget about me and go back to your normal life, if you want.
If you ever need anything, you can contact me at the address on the envelope.
"He's fine, and that guy who was trying to kill him is dead," Dudley told his mum. "And he gave me a way to contact him if I need to."
But Dudley thought his mum looked a bit pleased. He would have to remember to tell her if he ever got a letter from Harry again.
That Christmas, he sent Harry a card. It didn't say anything other than "Happy Christmas," but Dudley hoped Harry would understand.
A few days later, he got a similar card from Harry. He was pleased, because Harry must have sent his card at the same time as Dudley had.