I am Harry Potter's Cousin, Big D

"Yes!" Malfoy almost laughed out loud when he heard Snape's command. It seems it's not because the potion was made too well, but too badly, he thought with glee. Just wait, Professor Snape will definitely make him pay.

Hermione and Harry were a little worried about Dudley, but intimidated by Snape's imposing presence, they could only file out of the classroom with the other students, casting anxious glances over their shoulders.

After everyone had left, only Snape and Dudley remained in the silent, cold dungeon. To be fair, being alone with Snape was quite stressful, especially in this classroom filled with eerie, floating specimens and the lingering scent of magical ingredients; it was a unique form of torment.

After a brief, heavy silence, Snape was the one who spoke first.

"You've made this before?" He pulled out the bottle of perfect-grade boil-curing potion, its contents shimmering in the torchlight.

"No." Dudley shook his head. "This is the first time I've brewed this kind of potion."

Dudley said 'this kind of potion,' not 'made a potion for the first time,' a subtle distinction that Snape, a master of nuance, picked up on immediately.

"You've brewed other potions before?"

"That's right." Dudley nodded, answering with complete honesty. "Minor Magic-Enhancing Potion, Slowing Potion, Strengthening Solution, Skele-Gro, Essence of Dittany, and Blood-Replenishing Potion."

Listening to Dudley list off the names of various complex potions like reciting a dinner menu, Snape's usually placid, severe expression gradually changed, becoming something far more complex.

"Let me see." Snape extended a long, pale hand towards Dudley.

Without another word, Dudley slowly pulled bottle after bottle from the pouch at his waist, placing the finished products neatly in a row on the stone workbench in front of Snape. "These were made without your guidance," he added, "so the quality is very limited."

Snape casually picked up a bottle of the Strengthening Solution and examined it closely, holding it up to the light. "They are indeed very bad," he drawled, his voice dripping with its usual disdain. "Only slightly better than something a gnome would brew in a potato patch."

The blunt evaluation made Dudley choke slightly, though he didn't let it show. Although these were made before he had acquired his Data Eye, he was quite satisfied with them. Saying the quality was limited was merely him being humble. Humble, understand?

Little did he know, while Snape's face was a mask of contempt, he was actually quite shocked inside. In terms of pure potion-making skill, this boy was far behind what he and Lily had been capable of. But in terms of sheer variety and breadth of knowledge, even combining what he and Lily knew in their entire first year didn't amount to what this boy had taught himself. Snape's standard of evaluation was where he and Lily had been at the end of their first year, while Dudley had just started school.

Either he had an incredible talent for potion-making, or an incredible talent for brewing... just like his mother.

Only slightly less talented than Lily, Snape thought, a memory stirring. He was one of the few true Potions Masters in the entire wizarding world, and he could see at a glance where Dudley's talents lay. This reminded him of the few times he had visited the Evans' home and tasted Petunia's cooking; it was genuinely excellent. In a sense, potions were quite similar to cooking.

"Your brewing technique is very similar to your mother's," Snape said suddenly, his voice strangely soft.

"You know my mother?" Dudley asked, surprised.

Snape's expression became a little unnatural, almost strained. "We had some acquaintance. We used to be neighbors." Because Petunia couldn't go to Hogwarts, she had never been particularly friendly to the wizarding friends who visited Lily's house. She had even called him a freak. Any acquaintance they had was because of Lily, and after the incident in their fifth year... they had completely lost touch. He had never expected Petunia's son to be able to come to Hogwarts, let alone possess such an outstanding, raw talent for potions. He had always thought their entire family were natural Muggles.

"Could you be the Mr. Severus my mother once mentioned?"

Hogwarts professors didn't have the custom of introducing themselves by their full names in the first lesson. Even if they did, Snape wouldn't.

"She mentioned me?" Snape clearly paused, the fact that Petunia would mention him to her son was something he hadn't expected.

"For a while before coming to Hogwarts, my mother told me and Harry a lot about the wizarding world," Dudley explained. "Including some people and events from when she and Aunt Lily were children. She actually longed for this place very much and cherished Aunt Lily's friends."

Petunia had completely resolved her inner conflict. To help Dudley and Harry get used to life at Hogwarts, she had told them a lot of the information she had gleaned through her sister over the years.

Dudley clearly felt Snape's body tremble slightly when Aunt Lily was mentioned.

Snape suddenly thought of something. He abruptly raised his head and stared intently at Dudley with those hollow, lifeless eyes, until Dudley started to feel a little unnerved.

I see. A thought, a conclusion, crystallized in Snape's mind. Petunia's child is so outstanding because he inherited Lily's talent.

Scientifically, it was plausible. If potion-making talent was a recessive gene, both Petunia and Lily could have carried it. Petunia never became a witch, so the gene was never activated. But Dudley had, and so it was. Of course, Dudley preferred to believe it was a change brought about by his unique arrival in this world. But what Dudley thought wasn't important; what Snape now believed was everything. He stubbornly, desperately, believed this was Lily guiding him.

Look at it: inheriting Lily's excellent potion-making talent, the childhood friendship between a Gryffindor girl and a Slytherin boy... it was a complete replica of his and Lily's past. How could such a coincidence exist in the world? Of course, this boy was much stronger than he had been. Snape's physique during his school years had been thin and weak.

Wizards, he mused, didn't believe in science. They believed in destiny, in prophecy. Even those as powerful as Voldemort and Dumbledore were superstitious about fate. Dudley, on the other hand, was different. He didn't believe in prophecy; he believed in muscle.

"You..." Snape stared at Dudley seriously, drawing out the sound.

Just as Dudley was tensing, ready to react to a sudden attack, Snape continued, his voice barely a whisper.

"...want to learn Potions from me?"

Snape had planned for a long time to pass on his life's knowledge, but he had never found a suitable student, a worthy vessel. As a Potions Master, his standards were impossibly high. To learn from him, one needed at least half of Lily's talent, and in his heart, Lily's talent was infinite. Half of infinity was still infinity.

Now, he believed he was making this offer because he had received Lily's guidance from beyond the grave. It was an opportunity, nothing more. If Dudley's own ability was insufficient to seize it, he would still be abandoned. The wizarding world didn't have the custom of 'once a teacher, always a father'.

"Of course," Dudley replied, his voice calm and respectful, betraying none of the shock he felt. "It would be my honor, Professor Snape."

(End of Chapter)

***

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