Harry Potter: Dudley From LOTM

Snape's black eyes narrowed, just a fraction. He hadn't expected Dudley to answer the first question so readily. His gaze intensified, trying to break the boy's unnerving composure.

"If I asked you to find me a bezoar, where would you look?" Snape barked, his voice sharp and abrupt.

"In the stomach of a goat," Dudley replied, his tone unwavering.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"There is no difference, sir."

Snape paused, his gaze flickering. He was clearly surprised by Dudley's knowledge, but he maintained his cold demeanor. "If I were to brew Polyjuice Potion, what ingredients would I need?"

Dudley's brow furrowed slightly. This was a spell not taught until much later years. "That's not something first-year students learn, sir," he stated plainly.

"I am asking a question, Mr. Dursley," Snape sneered, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If you do not know, answer 'I don't know.' Do not insult my intelligence with nonsense. Gryffindor, five points."

A collective gasp went through the Gryffindor side of the classroom. Hermione, her hand still raised, closed her eyes in anguish. Five points! How long would it take to earn those back? Slytherin had won the House Cup for seven consecutive years, and she desperately wanted Gryffindor to win this year.

"What are all of you staring at?" Snape snapped, his gaze sweeping over the silent, horrified class. "Why aren't you writing this down?" The frantic rustle of quills on parchment filled the sudden silence.

"Harry Potter did not answer my question either," Snape declared, his eyes fixing on Harry. "Gryffindor, one point deducted."

"You answered perfectly," Harry whispered to Dudley, his voice tight with frustration. "He just wants to target us." He felt a pang of guilt. Snape's true target was clear, and Dudley was merely collateral damage.

"It's nothing," Dudley replied with a shrug. The House Cup meant absolutely nothing to him.

"Five points is not a small amount, Dudley!" Hermione whispered fiercely from the next desk, her voice trembling with indignation. "We must work harder!" She shot him a quick, apologetic look. "Of course, it's not your fault."

"Whispering in class," Snape's voice cut through the air, chilling and precise, "Gryffindor, five points deducted."

Hermione's face went white. She dared not utter another sound. In a single class, they had lost eleven points. It would take them weeks to recover.

The rest of the Potions lesson was conducted in a suffocating silence. No one dared to speak carelessly, especially the Gryffindors. They were terrified of provoking Snape, breathing as cautiously as possible. Only Dudley remained unchanged, his calm composure an unnerving contrast to the anxious tension of the other students. Hermione, sitting beside him, was in a constant state of worry, fearing Snape would find another excuse to punish them.

Snape moved among the cauldrons, scrutinizing their work. He criticized everyone—except Malfoy, who meticulously followed the instructions. Neville Longbottom, clumsy as ever, somehow managed to melt his cauldron. Seamus Finnigan, not to be outdone, caused his cauldron to explode, covering himself and half the classroom in sticky, foul-smelling goo. Snape, with a flicker of cruel satisfaction, deducted another five points from Gryffindor.

Finally, Snape stopped before Harry and Dudley's cauldron, his eyes scanning their potion, clearly searching for any flaw, any excuse to humiliate them. But Dudley had brewed the potion with perfect precision. It was a simple potion but required careful attention to detail, which Dudley, with his enhanced precision and memory, had easily achieved during his summer self-study.

With a frustrated huff, Snape turned away, unable to find fault.

When the bell finally rang, dismissing them, the students spilled out of the dungeon, most in a foul mood. Hermione looked utterly dejected, her grand plans for Gryffindor's House Cup victory seemingly crumbling around her.

"I'm telling you," she began, attempting to rally Ron and Harry, "from now on, we must prepare thoroughly in advance. Only then—" It seemed to her that only these two were holding her back.

"Hermione, you saw it!" Ron burst out, exasperated. "Snape is deliberately looking for trouble! It has nothing to do with whether we prepare or not! Dudley proved it: answering correctly is useless!"

"But—" Hermione tried to argue, but Ron was already pulling Harry away.

"Come on, we've got things to do! Let's not talk about it anymore!" Ron called over his shoulder.

Dudley shook his head with a slight, helpless smile and followed them. Hermione, left standing alone, bit her lip, her eyes red-rimmed with frustration.

They walked across the grounds, heading toward Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Ron, still seething, complained about Hermione the entire way. "I really can't stand her. Are points really that important to her?"

"Forget it, Ron," Harry said, his voice weak. "She's trying to help Gryffindor."

"But this isn't our fault!" Ron insisted. "Snape's just trying to take points from us, no matter what we do. And she acts like it's our fault!" He ranted on, Harry listening with a sigh, Dudley with a detached, analytical interest.

A little past three, they arrived at Hagrid's hut, a small, cozy dwelling nestled at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest. Dudley paused, his gaze drawn to the ominous line of ancient, twisted trees.

"So this is the Forbidden Forest Dumbledore mentioned," Dudley murmured. "What exactly is inside?"

"I don't know," Ron said, glancing nervously at the dark woods. "But they say it's very dangerous." The outer edge of the forest was merely gloomy, its vegetation not yet too dense. But deeper inside, it was absolute darkness, even in the bright afternoon sun. A perpetual mist clung to the trees, making it seem even more mysterious and eerie.

"Eww!" Ron shivered, pointing to a hairy, half-hand-sized spider dangling from a web nearby. "Let's go quickly."

Harry and Ron hurried towards Hagrid's hut, but Dudley lingered for a moment. He activated his spiritual vision, letting his gaze sweep over the dark, ancient woods. Many extraordinary creatures live here, he thought. Centaurs, unicorns…

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. In the deepest, darkest heart of the forest, amidst the impenetrable gloom, he saw it. A pair of eyes. They glowed with an ancient, predatory intelligence, staring back at him. It was like a colossal, dormant beast, peeking out at the outside world from its shadowy lair.

(End of Chapter)

***

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