"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," says Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

...so that's why they blame him whenever something strange happens - it is somehow his fault -

"Yeh can't stamp out magic from him," he scoffs. "That's like... like... like trying ter stamp out his skin or summat. It's part o' him."

He can't quite decide whether that's reassuring or terrifying.

"No matter, I do not allow him to go!"

He looks at Victor. "Yeh want ter go, right?"

He glances nervously at Uncle Vernon, and stares down at his cake, and nods a tiny nod.

"Haven’t I told you he's not going?" he hisses. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish—spell books and wands and—"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him," growls Hagrid. "Stop Sirius an' Dahlia Evans' son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born."

"I - I do want to go," he says, edging away from Uncle Vernon slightly.

"See? He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won’t know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled—"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yells Uncle Vernon. 

But he's finally gone too far. Hagrid seizes his umbrella and whirls it over his head.

"NEVER—" he thunders, "—INSULT—ALBUS—DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!"

He brings the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley—there's a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal—

—and the next second, Dudley's dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turns his back on them, he reveals a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers. 

Victor takes a deep breath, and looks up at Hagrid.

"I don't think you should have done that," he says quietly.

He hides behind his mum and continues wailing.

And Uncle Vernon roars in anger, quickly rushing over to Dudley's side to pull him and Petunia to the other room—

—but she doesn't go. "Please undo that."

The giant... looks very ashamed. "Yer right. Shouldn'ta lost me temper... but I can't undo that."

Victor Evans looks a lot like his father. The shape of his face, his hazel eyes. There's no single feature you could pick out to connect him to his mother.

But the person looking up at Hagrid right now is definitely Dahlia's son.

"Is there anyone else who can?"

He looks down at his feet. "Mebbe. But, er... see, I'm not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff—one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job—but a muggle doctor should be able ter fix it."

"Can wizard doctors fix it better?"

"We are not letting any more—freaks anywhere near our son!" Uncle Vernon declares, and finally succeeds at pulling the rest of his family back into the other room, slamming the door shut after shooting one final fearful glance at the giant.

Victor looks down at his cake again. Whatever shade of his mother was present in him a minute ago, it's gone now.