I am Harry Potter's Cousin, Big D

"I'm definitely telling my dad," was the first thing Draco Malfoy declared after waking up and realizing he was, miraculously, unharmed. "He'll have him kicked out."

Besides bragging about his father's greatness, his only other recourse was to tattle. He was, at his core, a spoiled, bratty child. The only reason he was completely fine was thanks to a timely dose of healing potion provided by the Carrow family; otherwise, the various jinxes and spells he'd taken while being used as a shield would have kept him in the hospital wing for at least a week.

This was Malfoy's personality; as long as he was physically unscathed, he would jump right back up, ready to be annoying and stir up trouble. According to the original timeline, he would "battle wits and courage" with Harry and his friends for six long years, a constant, irritating thorn in their side until the return of Voldemort.

"Draco! Don't say anything more!"

As soon as Malfoy started his tirade, a short-haired girl with a neat bob, Pansy Parkinson, quickly covered his mouth, afraid his foolish words would provoke public outrage within their own house.

"This is Richmond's order," she hissed. "Do you want to defy him?"

As a first-year, she had naturally participated in the previous night's disastrous confrontation. Every time Pansy thought about what had happened, a dull ache throbbed in her backside. No one had escaped the wrath of the Butt Destroyer, and she, of course, was no exception. What happened that night had already become a taboo subject among the Slytherins, absolutely not to be discussed.

"What's so great about Richmond?" Malfoy mumbled, his voice muffled by her hand. "He's just from the Carrow family, and he just started a few years before me. I'll tell my dad... Alright, alright, I won't say anything."

Under Pansy's sharp, warning gaze, Malfoy's voice grew smaller and smaller until finally it was so quiet he could barely hear himself. Not everyone cared about his family's status. The Carrows and the Parkinsons were on the same level as the Malfoys; no one had the right to be so arrogant.

"Draco!" Pansy shouted, her patience wearing thin, signaling him to stop talking. What happened last night had already made many of the younger Slytherins unhappy with him. They had lost, and it was under his leadership. Slytherins only stand with the winners. And why was it that everyone else was hurt, but he, Malfoy, was perfectly fine? Crabbe and Goyle didn't count; they had been petrified and used as human weapons. Now, they trembled at the mere mention of Dudley's name. No one wanted to switch places with them.

Malfoy, however, was completely oblivious to the unfriendly glances being cast his way from all corners of the common room.

"For the sake of the Carrow family, I won't bother with such a barbarian," he declared, puffing out his chest. "I hope he doesn't provoke me again, or I'll make him pay." The only part of Malfoy that was truly tough was his mouth.

In reality, it was all just bluster. Since yesterday's encounter, he really didn't dare to provoke that jinx, Dudley, again. Just because he wouldn't do it himself, however, didn't mean he wouldn't instigate others to do it for him.

'Hmph,' he thought, a cruel, cunning smile on his face. 'This Friday is Professor Snape's Potions class. I'll make you see what you're up against.' He refused to believe that a wizard from a Muggle family could possibly understand the subtle art of potion-making. Snape was his father's old friend and would definitely side with him. As long as he targeted him a little... surely Dursley wouldn't dare to hit a professor? Heh heh, there would be a good show to watch.

Unfortunately, Malfoy was a little too happy too soon. It was only Monday. There were still four full days until Friday.

It had to be said that Dudley was very good at judging people. Or rather, he had a very accurate grasp of the psychology of people like Malfoy. "Isn't this Malfoy? What a coincidence, you're also going to class?"

Before he had even walked a few steps down the corridor, he heard the voice that had haunted his nightmares all night. He stiffly turned his head and, seeing that it was Dudley, was so startled his soul almost left his body. He forced out a smile that was uglier than crying and mechanically replied, "H-hello."

Pansy, who had been afraid that Malfoy would clash with Dudley again, saw him trembling like a mouse seeing a cat and simply stood aside obediently, saying nothing. It wasn't until Dudley had walked away that Malfoy let out a long, shaky breath. Seeing Pansy looking at him, his face instantly turned red. "I was just having a polite greeting with a classmate," he argued, telling a lie he didn't even believe himself. "You know, a Malfoy is always a gentleman."

Pansy now believed that Malfoy would definitely not go looking for trouble with Dudley again. She just hoped he wouldn't tell his father. Richmond seemed to value this barbarian very much.

"Hermione, look," Dudley said solemnly as he caught up to her. "I get along very well with my classmates. See how happy he was just now?" All the way to class, Hermione had been like a wound-up little duck, quacking and quacking, constantly asking about what had happened the previous night. Although he appreciated her concern, he definitely couldn't tell her the truth.

"Really?" Hermione expressed deep suspicion. Malfoy's face had not looked happy at all. "How do I feel like he's afraid of you?"

Dudley's face hardened. "That's slander. If you don't believe me, I'll find someone else to prove it to you." He randomly selected a lucky audience member from the passing crowd. "Hey, you, the little... who over there. I'm talking to you, stop."

The Slytherin first-year acted as if they hadn't heard him and quickened their pace.

"If you run again, I'll beat you."

Finally, under the threat of Dudley's verbal "big stick," the little... who finally stopped, showed Dudley a "smiling face" that was even uglier than Malfoy's and confirmed that, yes, Dudley was very popular in Slytherin. The result was that Hermione became even more suspicious.

The first class of the day was Herbology with Professor Sprout, who immediately launched into a lesson on the properties of Dittany. It was a topic from much later in the textbook, but Professor Sprout taught with a free-flowing style, her lessons full of knowledge not found in the books. Dudley, knowing that Herbology was the foundation of Potions, listened with rapt attention, his studious spirit earning Slytherin two points. Hermione, of course, answered questions frequently and earned Gryffindor five.

After class, she looked up at Dudley with a triumphant expression, as if to say, 'How about that? I got three more points than you.'

Dudley just smiled helplessly and shook his head. 'This little girl's competitiveness is really something else.'

So, in the next History of Magic class, Dudley earned ten points for Slytherin, his deep knowledge of recent magical history impressing even the ghostly Professor Binns. In Charms, Hermione earned four points for Gryffindor. Dudley, though his wand produced nothing, earned five points for his unique, insightful commentary on the theory of charms.

Going back and forth like this, they finally arrived at the Friday Malfoy had been longing for day and night: the day of Potions class.

(End of Chapter)

***

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