Capítulo 181: 1
August 15, 1992
The summer was gradually retreating southward from eastern England, and the quiet Thames River flowed slowly out of the Cotswold Mountains, through the beautiful county of Surrey, and into Greater London.
Unlike the bustling, noisy streets of London, Surrey boasted lush hills and forests. Gentlemen often retreated here to escape the heat of midsummer, and the hunting grounds north of the Moray Valley were a popular spot for Muggle families.
Wizards were accustomed to such scenery. This season, they simply wanted to follow their favorite Quidditch teams and party day and night at the campgrounds outside the stadiums.
A gray-white owl, perhaps tired from its journey, landed on a large tree on Privet Drive in Little Whinging. It lazily preened its feathers but was startled by a sudden outcry from a nearby house.
"What the hell is going on?!" Samuel Rollins, now inhabiting the body of Dudley Dursley, stared at himself in the mirror, almost exploding on the spot.
"Where did my 1.8-meter height go?!" he demanded.
"And my eight-pack abs?!"
"My handsome face? My dark eyes! What the—?" If it hadn't been for seven years in the military, where his willpower had been honed to steel, he might have crashed into the mirror in despair.
The last thing Samuel remembered was being on a night airborne mission when lightning struck him mid-air. Now, he found himself looking in the mirror at a 1.6-meter-tall, pudgy boy with golden brown curly hair and blue eyes, weighing at least 120 kilograms. He constantly had to hike up his pants to keep them from sliding down his fat rear.
"Dudley, darling! It's time for dessert! I made you cream pumpkin pie and a chocolate sundae..." A woman's enthusiastic but shrill voice called from downstairs.
Although Samuel's stomach rumbled at the mention of chocolate, he had no intention of responding. A book with a golden shimmer had magically appeared in front of him.
"System activated." A female voice echoed in his ear—gentle, sweet, but not quite human.
"Host information has been loaded..."
To his surprise, the ancient book in front of him flipped to the first page, displaying simple yet elegant text.
Welcome to the Ordnance Manual system. The system introduction will be unlocked after completing the registration task.
Host information:
Name: Dudley Dursley (12 years old, human)
Strength: 12 (school bully level)
Intelligence: 8 (+15, due to memory fusion, system revising...)
Magic: 0 (pure-blooded Muggle level)
Agility: 6 (semi-disabled level)
Willpower: 5 (+15, due to memory fusion, system revising...)
Skill: Gun Contract (temporary, cannon fodder level)
Before he could fully absorb the details, the book turned to the next page.
Randomly selecting system registration tasks...
Extraction complete. System registration task automatically accepted.
Task: Use the temporary skill "Gun Contract" to kill "Tarif Linton" within 6 hours.
The mission details were minimal. Who was Tarif Linton? And how was he supposed to use this so-called skill? Samuel had no idea. The following words, however, sent a chill down his spine.
Task reward: Permanently activate the Ordnance Manual system, obtain corresponding permissions, and permanently gain the "Gun Contract" skill. D-level sub-skill orb1.*
Failure penalty: Obliteration.
Mission countdown: 5:59:45...
Samuel had served in special operations for seven years, carrying out countless missions. The enemy had dubbed him the "Gun Demon," but this was the first time he'd received a mission in such a bizarre manner. Failure clearly meant death, and he had less than six hours to complete it.
Samuel was not one to break under pressure. On the contrary, he was always logical, calm, and extremely decisive. His strength lay in using available information to construct a coherent plan of action. Time was short, and he quickly set aside his curiosity about the inexplicable situation. Whatever exists is reasonable, he thought. Even if this was a dream, he had to follow its rules and solve the immediate problem.
Where did this ancient book come from? Did it truly have the power to erase him? Would killing the target have severe consequences? These questions could wait. Right now, he needed to figure out: Who am I? Where am I? Who is the target? Where is he?
The first two questions were answered on the first page of the book. He was now Dudley Dursley.
Samuel wasn't a fan of Harry Potter, but he knew enough to recognize that he was no longer on Earth as he knew it. He had entered the Wizarding World and become the cousin of Harry Potter—a character known for being ugly, irritable, and spoiled, a mama's boy that everyone found annoying.
At that moment, the sound of the TV being turned on echoed from downstairs, and a news anchor began broadcasting in a standard London accent.
Samuel—now Dudley—stood up abruptly, almost falling over. As he did, a cold, hard object dug into his belly.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gray, dirty revolver. Judging by its style, it seemed to be an old Colt Python. The female voice from earlier spoke again:
Certified firearm: Colt Python (1956), 4-inch model, caliber .357, edible.
The gun was a familiar classic. Although dirty, it was well-maintained. But what did "edible" mean?
Not wanting to miss any crucial information, Samuel gritted his teeth, shoved the pistol back into his pocket, and ran down the stairs like an overinflated beach ball.
A middle-aged couple appeared at the foot of the stairs, smiling. They seemed to want to hug him or perhaps catch him to prevent a fall, but he paid them no mind. Gripping the polished banister, he focused on the news broadcast.
"A few days ago, the heinous murderer Tarif Linton escaped from Belmarsh Prison in London. This individual is extremely dangerous. If any members of the public spot him, please report to the county police immediately..."
The image on the TV was grainy, showing a man with high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, a pair of dead-looking fish eyes, a mouth full of yellowed teeth, a medium build, and a gaunt frame.
Even in his current form, Samuel recognized that this man was a dark wizard, likely one who had used forbidden spells multiple times.
This scene mirrored the wanted posters from when Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. It seemed that when a dangerous wizarding criminal escaped, the Ministry of Magic compiled a corresponding message to warn Muggles as well.
"It's terrible!" Dudley's skinny mother screamed, rushing to the window as if expecting the murderer to appear in their backyard at any moment.
"Those useless prison guards!..." Dudley's father, Vernon, with his trademark mustache, was about to launch into one of his usual rants when Samuel interrupted coldly, "Do we have a map of Surrey?"
Privet Drive, where Harry Potter's aunt's family lived, was located in Surrey. Maps were essential for all combat missions. Samuel had no time to figure out where his "adorable" cousin was; his time was precious. Find the target, kill him with one shot, and the mission would be complete.
Vernon, confused by the sudden demand, pointed to a bookshelf. Before Samuel could move, Vernon quickly retrieved an old map from a stack of engineering books.
Grabbing the map, Samuel sprinted outside, Vernon's voice trailing after him: "Don't come back too late!..."
-----
Surrey County, while not vast, presents a significant challenge for a 12-year-old without access to advanced transportation like a car, motorcycle, or broomstick, especially when searching for a dark wizard with magical abilities. Dudley quickly realizes that the target area must be small enough to be within his reach, considering the six-hour time limit imposed by the system. If the target, Tarif Linton, had the ability to Apparate across the English Channel to France, Dudley knew the mission would be impossible. Fortunately, he deduces that Linton must be hiding nearby.
Drawing on his knowledge from his previous life as Samuel Rollins, Dudley understands the psychology of a fugitive like Linton. After enduring the horrors of Azkaban , Linton would likely be desperate to avoid returning and would seek a safe place to hide. Dudley remembers that Wilkerson Street, three blocks away, is home to several Irish-owned bars, known to be frequented by gang members and generally avoided by police. It's the perfect place for someone trying to disappear.
Dudley runs towards Wilkerson Street, his considerable bulk attracting curious glances from passers-by, who quickly step aside. Despite his size, Dudley has decent stamina and arrives at his destination in just over half an hour. As he catches his breath, his sharp eyes scan the faces of everyone on the street.
He has confidence in his ability to identify a target. After all, in his previous life, he had sniped a terrorist from a thousand meters away and had a keen eye for spotting criminals. But as he examines the street, no one stands out. The tattooed men guarding the entrances to the bars barely glance at him, assuming he's just a kid looking for his drunk father or a lost pet.
The sun begins to set, and Dudley feels the pressure mounting as the countdown on the system's ordnance manual ticks down to 3:15:33. He decides to move on to his next potential location—the Thames River, where many homeless people congregate. Just as he turns to leave, he notices an elderly woman in a large cloak carrying a shabby handbag.
The woman doesn't seem unusual, but Dudley's instincts tell him otherwise. The tattooed men had ignored her completely, almost as if she were invisible. Dudley suspects the use of concealment magic, a common trick among wizards to blend into the Muggle world. To someone with strong willpower, like Dudley, such magic often fails to work effectively.
Convinced that this old woman might be Linton in disguise, Dudley quietly follows her, gripping the handle of the revolver hidden in his pocket. His plan is simple: wait until they are alone, call out Linton's name, and when the woman reacts, shoot her in the wrist to prevent her from using a wand, then finish the job with a second shot.
The old woman walks briskly, and Dudley follows at a distance of about 30 meters. She turns into a narrow, rubbish-strewn alley—an ideal place for a confrontation. Dudley takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. This is his first time facing a magical opponent, but he's determined.
As he enters the alley, ready to call out, a flash of green light illuminates his face. Startled, Dudley instinctively rolls to the side, narrowly avoiding the spell. The alleyway is now illuminated by a dim, eerie glow.
"Ah, you brought a friend?" A hoarse voice, dry as sandpaper on glass, echoes through the alley. "A Muggle kid?"
Dudley looks up to see two figures. The old woman has removed her cloak, revealing herself to be a young woman, tall and striking, with auburn hair. She looks strong and determined. Not far from her stands Tarif Linton, the very man from the news, with blood at the corners of his mouth and several dead stray cats at his feet.
The young woman positions herself between Dudley and Linton. "Bloodthirsty Linton! You've committed multiple murders and drained blood. I demand that you drop your wand immediately!" she commands, her voice firm.
Linton smirks, unimpressed. "No badge? You must be a trainee Auror. No backup, I assume?"
The woman's brief hesitation gives Linton the opening he needs. He raises his wand, and before she can react, he hits her with a spell that sends her flying into the piles of garbage.
"Boom!" A gunshot rings out, startling Linton. He turns to see Dudley, who has just fired, but the shot goes wide. The recoil of the revolver was too much for Dudley, and the back of his hand had struck his nose, causing it to bleed.
Linton sneers, raising his wand towards the dazed Dudley. The injured girl struggles to her feet, her right hand twitching as she clutches her wand. "Don't hurt him! Focus on me!" she shouts, trying to draw Linton's attention.
Linton's gaze shifts to the girl. "Such a pretty little Auror," he leers, his eyes roving over her. "It would be a shame to kill you outright."
Dudley, lying on the ground, seethes with anger. Glancing at the revolver in his hand, he remembers the system prompt about the weapon being "edible." In a moment of desperation, he makes a bold move—he puts the barrel of the revolver in his mouth and bites down.
----
Under Linton's predatory gaze, the young witch quickly switched her wand to her left hand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
A burst of red energy shot from her wand, but Linton was ready. As soon as she uttered the first syllable, he thrust his black wand forward.
"Crucio!"
Dark magic had its advantages: the incantations were shorter. The green lightning from Linton's wand collided mid-air with the girl's red spell, creating a violent clash of magic. Sparks flew as the two forces battled for dominance.
The girl's face was taut with pain, her teeth clenched as she struggled against the intense pressure of the duel. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, each pulse making her feel faint.
Linton, on the other hand, seemed almost euphoric, his eyes wide with a manic energy. The rush from casting the Cruciatus Curse made him feel alive, sending a wave of pleasure through him. He could already picture the girl writhing on the ground in agony, completely at his mercy. After the curse took hold, if she wasn't dead, he would use the Imperius Curse to make her his puppet.
The thought made him gasp with pleasure, and he took a step closer to the struggling witch.
The young witch knew the dire consequences of losing this duel. The thought of being at Linton's mercy was worse than death. But she was outmatched—Linton's years of malevolent experience and stronger magic were overwhelming her. The light of the Cruciatus Curse grew more intense, inch by inch forcing back her own spell. Her left hand began to go numb, the energy of her own magic seeping back into her like a high-voltage shock.
Anyone watching could see that in a few seconds, the girl would be defeated, left to suffer under the Cruciatus Curse. Linton, unable to contain his excitement, inched closer.
His mouth felt dry, and he was already imagining savoring the girl's blood, which would undoubtedly be a thousand times more delicious than the wild cats he had been feeding on.
At that moment, Dudley charged at Linton like a human cannonball, his face twisted with determination despite the blood streaming from his nose. He hoped to use his "weight advantage" to knock Linton down and shift the battle in the girl's favor.
But just as he reached Linton, a shimmering light appeared around the dark wizard, the outline of a magical shield becoming visible. Dudley slammed into it as if hitting a brick wall. The impact nearly shattered his shoulder, leaving him seeing stars.
Linton's magical defenses were too strong for a Muggle weapon—or even a Muggle body. Pistols, with their simple mechanics, were no match for such protection, let alone Dudley's desperate tackle.
"You little beast!" Linton growled, his fury igniting. The dark wizard grabbed Dudley by the throat, lifting him off the ground as if he were nothing more than a ragdoll.
Linton's grip was terrifyingly strong. With a flick of his wand, the green light of the Cruciatus Curse flared, overwhelming the girl's disarming spell in an instant.
This was an advanced dueling tactic—using a sudden surge of magical power to decisively end the duel. The girl was flung to the ground in a burst of sparks, the Cruciatus Curse tearing through her body with agonizing pain.
It felt as though countless micro blades were slicing through her organs and bones, saws grinding against her limbs, and drills burrowing into her skull. The pain was unbearable, a torment that could drive anyone to madness, yet it wouldn't cause unconsciousness.
Many Aurors who had suffered the Cruciatus Curse during battles with dark wizards required long-term treatment at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Some never fully recovered, with injuries that left deep scars not just on their bodies, but on their minds and souls.
Dudley, gasping for breath as Linton's hand squeezed his throat, was on the verge of passing out. But the fat around his neck offered some protection, preventing Linton from snapping it entirely. With great effort, Dudley managed to choke out, "I…have…a… type of ….blood…that…cures…black magic…side effect"
Whether or not such a blood type existed was beside the point. But no dark wizard could resist the lure of a potential cure for the afflictions caused by using dark magic—afflictions like dry skin, muscle atrophy, and even insanity.
Linton, who had a penchant for blood-drinking, hesitated for a moment, then smiled wickedly. This fat Muggle was nothing more than an insect to him, one he could crush with ease. But perhaps there was truth to his words.
He released his grip on Dudley's throat, not wanting to spoil the blood he was about to drink. He sheathed his wand in his belt and grabbed Dudley by the shoulders, sinking his teeth into the boy's neck.
But just as Linton's fangs touched Dudley's skin, Dudley moved.
"Go to hell!" Dudley roared, jabbing his index finger into Linton's ear.
His chubby little hand shouldn't have been able to hurt anyone, but something extraordinary happened. Dudley's wrist began to glow faintly, and then the skin on the back of his hand seemed to come alive, small mechanical parts emerging from it like swarms of metallic insects. They quickly assembled, transforming Dudley's hand into a mechanical weapon.
"Contract of the Gun—Thunderstorm Bullet!"
A flash of fire erupted from Dudley's hand, so bright and intense it was like witnessing the first light of dawn breaking over a mountain peak. The roar of the explosion and the shockwave that followed were almost secondary.
Dudley collapsed to the ground, covered in blood and gore. He looked up to see Linton's headless body crumple to the floor.
"Congratulations to the host for completing the registration task!"
"Time remaining: 2:41:11."
"Overall rating: A."
Ignoring the system's voice, Dudley turned to look at the girl still writhing in pain. Summoning every ounce of strength, he forced himself to his feet.
-------
Dudley wiped his face clean, smearing the mix of blood and other unmentionables on Linton's trousers before hurrying over to the girl. He lifted her upper body gently. Her eyes were tightly shut, still enduring the lingering effects of the Cruciatus Curse.
The three Unforgivable Curses are rooted in the darkest of emotions. The Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra, draws its power from murderous intent, while the Cruciatus Curse channels the caster's sadistic desire to inflict pain. Even though the curse's caster had perished, the intense physical and mental anguish inflicted on the girl was akin to the pain of a shattered limb.
Dudley was frantic but helpless. He knew nothing of magic's intricacies or how to counteract such dark spells. All he could do was hold the girl close, trying to offer her some semblance of warmth and comfort.
Suddenly, the ordnance manual beside him sprang open, displaying a stream of new information:
[System registration successful. Ordnance Manual instructions obtained (authority level: 1)]
[Permanent skill acquired: "Contract of the Gun" (cannon fodder level), soul power: 5/100]
*[Received: random D-level sub-skill orb 1]
*[Additional reward for A-level mission evaluation: .357 Magnum bullets 6 - enchantment +1 (sometimes all it takes is one bullet to turn the tide)]
As Dudley glanced over the skill names and items, their descriptions filled his mind.
For instance, the "Contract of the Gun" skill was explained as follows: As a pet of the War Mage, a soul bond is formed with all firearms and weapons. By consuming them, they become part of the user's body, enabling them to crush their enemies.
Current skill level: cannon fodder level. (Raise the level by accumulating soul power. Current soul power: 5/100)
Digestible firearms: most small-caliber single-shot pistols and rifles
Attached shooting skill: Thunderstorm Bullet (fires a powerful bullet that explodes in a small area upon impact, cooldown: 1 minute)...
The explanation was detailed and easy to understand, a stark contrast to the cryptic and unhelpful mission instructions he had received earlier.
Dudley quickly grasped the strange abilities this ordnance manual had bestowed upon him. Perhaps it was a trick by Loki, the god of mischief, or a whim of Ares, the god of war. But in the end, the reason didn't matter.
The memory of the magical duel between the girl and Linton was still vivid in his mind. Whether he liked it or not, Dudley Dursley, who had once been struck by lightning, was gone. Now, Dudley had to rely on this manual to survive in a world filled with magic.
His face was expressionless, yet his eyes lingered on the "random D-level sub-skill orb." Intrigued, he focused on it, and a small, green bead appeared within the manual. A single touch revealed three options:
Sub-skill: Nostalgic Appearance (transform into a remembered form, duration: 10 minutes, cooldown: 24 hours);Sub-skill: Soul Armor (Level D, Soul Strength +1);Sub-skill: Bloodline Coordination (Basic Magic Power +1).
The idea of transforming back into his previous life's form intrigued Dudley. As Samuel Rollins, he had been a campus heartthrob, an idol to many girls. His good looks and warrior spirit made him stand out even more. But as exciting as the prospect of regaining that appearance was, Dudley forced himself to remain rational.
The system had already thrown him into a lethal task for his first mission: kill a dark wizard far stronger than himself with barely any information, all within a tight 6-hour window. It was a stark reminder that this ordnance manual wasn't a free ticket to easy victories. On the contrary, it signaled that the system would likely present even tougher challenges in the future. To survive, Dudley couldn't afford to waste any opportunities to grow stronger. Each decision might be the difference between life and death.
So, it came down to a simple choice: vanity or survival.
He wasn't quite sure about the effects of "Soul Armor" just yet. Soul strength seemed significant, but it wouldn't benefit him immediately. "Bloodline Coordination," however, caught his attention. He glanced at the description of his attributes—his magic power was listed as 0 (pure-blooded Muggle level). The significance of this skill became clear.
A small increase in magical ability would make the difference between a Muggle and a wizard. Without it, he wouldn't even be able to enter the platform leading to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
He knew full well that in this magical world, the true protagonist was his cousin, Harry Potter. All major events revolved around him. Missing out on Hogwarts meant missing out on the original plot—the biggest leverage Dudley had.
Taking a deep breath, Dudley cast one last glance at the "Nostalgic Appearance" option before decisively selecting the third skill.
"Bloody Linton... is he dead?" a voice interrupted his thoughts.
The girl in his arms had opened her eyes. Though still weak, the faint signs of life returning to her pale face only enhanced her delicate beauty, making Dudley's heart race.
Twelve-year-old Dudley was just entering puberty, while twenty-four-year-old Samuel Rollins had already seen his share of romantic pursuits. In his previous life, after intense combat missions, only the thrill of lust could help him unwind, and the girl before him was precisely his type.
"Y-Yes, he's dead," Dudley stammered, his mind racing with a mix of relief and inappropriate thoughts as he held her.
The girl looked at the blood and gore covering Dudley, then at Linton's headless body. Her brows furrowed in suspicion.
"My name is Nina, Nina Cummings. I'm a trainee Auror with the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic," she introduced herself, not yet trying to stand.
"I'm Dudley Dursley, from Little Whinging... It's a pleasure to meet you, Nina," Dudley responded, suddenly feeling as if he were back in school, nervously speaking to the prettiest girl in class.
"It seems charm can sometimes outshine appearance," Dudley thought with a hint of pride.
"Mr. Dursley," Nina's tone shifted, becoming calm and serious, "I regret to inform you... You are under arrest! If you are carrying a wand or any other weapon, place your hands where I can see them! Resisting arrest will have severe consequences!"
"What?" Dudley's eyes widened, his mind struggling to process what he'd just heard.
"Seriously? I was just starting to think things were looking up!"
---------
If someone asked what an antique revolver from 1956 smelled like, Dudley Dursley wouldn't have been able to describe it precisely at that moment. But he could certainly say it was far better than the meals served at the temporary detention center in the Ministry of Magic's basement.
Of course, Dudley hadn't tried to resist arrest or escape. Unless he had managed to knock Nina aside and then somehow vanish from the face of the earth, he wouldn't have been able to avoid the Ministry's relentless pursuit.
After sitting alone in the dim, empty cell for hours, with no one paying him any attention, Dudley began to worry about Vernon and Petunia. In his previous life, Samuel Rollins had lost his parents at a young age, but unlike Harry, he had been fortunate enough to be raised in a kind orphanage. Although he had gotten into plenty of trouble during his school days, most of those experiences were fond memories. Despite everything, he still missed his "parents" deeply.
Vernon and Petunia Dursley might have been petty and a bit cruel to Harry, but they doted on Dudley, their own son. Since arriving in this world, Dudley had come to appreciate his relationship with them, even if there was no way he could continue living an ordinary Muggle life as Dudley.
Meanwhile, Nina Cummings was having a rough time herself. Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror Office, was not pleased with how she had handled the case. His dissatisfaction stemmed from the fact that Nina had acted on her own, pursuing the case single-handedly.
"Mr. Scrimgeour, I'm telling the truth! You have to believe me!" Nina, though visibly exhausted and having undergone basic treatment for her injuries, still had firm, clear eyes.
"This isn't a trivial matter!" Scrimgeour's tawny hair trembled like a lion's mane as he spoke, his sharp gaze making Nina feel even more cornered. As a trainee, she was still new to the Auror Office, and Scrimgeour was a veteran with years of experience.
Nina had only recently passed the necessary qualifications (including five NEWT exams) and the stealth and disguise tests in May. According to regulations, she was required to undergo three years of training and personality evaluations before becoming a full-fledged Auror.
Due to her excellent academic performance—and perhaps the vintage Johnnie Walker whiskey gifted by her friend Robert Cummings—Scrimgeour had reluctantly allowed her to intern at the Auror Office. However, what he hadn't anticipated was that this young girl would go off on her own to track down Linton, a bloodthirsty criminal who had escaped from Azkaban. If anything had gone wrong, Scrimgeour had no idea how he would explain it to old Robert.
"First, you're suspended. No arguments!" Scrimgeour's stern tone stifled any protests Nina might have had. Even though she had been the one to deduce the criminal's whereabouts, no one on the action team had believed her.
"Second, regardless of how a Muggle boy managed to kill Linton, he must face the consequences! After dawn, the Minister will bring him before the Wizengamot for a verdict!" Scrimgeour finished with a dismissive wave, leaving Nina to walk out dejectedly.
Due to her suspension, Nina couldn't stay at the Auror Office and had to go home to await notice of the hearing. As the only witness, she would undoubtedly be summoned, but she still hadn't figured out how to plead on behalf of the Muggle boy.
Back in the small dark room, Dudley had lost track of time. After a brief nap, he began doing push-ups to pass the time. Since he had chosen magical power over returning to his handsome appearance, he figured he should work on losing weight himself. Before his time travel, he had exercised regularly, burning at least two thousand calories a day. After a year or two, he was confident he could change his appearance on his own.
But reality often has a way of humbling people. After just eleven push-ups, Dudley found himself lying on the ground, gasping for air. It wasn't that his arms lacked strength; the problem was the sheer weight he was trying to lift. His stomach had been growling for hours, and the cold sandwiches served at the detention center, paired with the one-kilogram revolver, hadn't done much to satiate his hunger.
With all his strength, Dudley forced himself up again, his veins bulging and his eyes wide with determination. A true warrior wouldn't back down because of a little physical pain.
As he exercised, Dudley pondered his situation. In the magical world, every wizard was registered at birth by the Ministry of Magic (or similar organizations) to prevent them from becoming Obscurials if they suffered psychological trauma or persecution. Since Dudley wasn't registered with the Ministry, he would have had to find a way to get their attention, even if Nina hadn't captured him.
However, Dudley couldn't help but worry about his fate. The Ministry of Magic, as depicted in the books, wasn't exactly known for fairness or justice. With the exception of Dumbledore and a few others, most of the officials were traditional, conservative, and more concerned with appearances than with truth. Would they throw him into Azkaban for murder after discovering he had become a wizard?
Despite his anxiety, Dudley bore no ill will toward Nina. She had ignored her own safety multiple times and shielded him during the confrontation. Without her attracting Linton's attention, Dudley wouldn't have been able to take him down so easily. Besides, arresting him was part of her duty; he couldn't hold that against her.
It was likely the afternoon of the next day when the guard finally opened the door to Dudley's cell. A young, sour-faced Auror led an older man inside. The older man wore a purple robe and a hat that looked like an exaggerated chef's cap. A delicate silver "W" was embroidered on the left side of his chest, standing out prominently.
"Muggle—Mr. Dudley Dursley, you have violated the laws of the Ministry of Magic," the old man said, his tone haughty but measured. "The Minister has submitted your case to the Wizengamot for a ruling. Please come with us."
"Mr. Woodward, you don't need to be so polite to him. He's just a Muggle," the young Auror sneered, casting a look of disgust at Dudley as if he were some sort of contagion.
"Oh, Jeb, let's stick to protocol," Mr. Woodward replied, raising his head as he led the way out. As a member of the Wizengamot, he would never have come to such a grimy detention center if Cornelius Fudge hadn't insisted.
Jeb gave Dudley a rough shove, guiding him down a long, dark staircase that seemed to descend at least ten floors underground. Finally, they reached a heavy iron door.
"Get in," Jeb snapped, his tone still hostile. Dudley glanced at him sideways, unsure of what he had done to offend the man. But then again, some wizards simply disliked Muggles.
Dudley took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The courtroom beyond was gloomy and filled with noise. Around forty or fifty witches and wizards in purple robes sat in a semi-circle, with a black chair featuring shackles in the center.
As Jeb led Dudley inside, the chatter began to die down. Jeb roughly shoved Dudley into the chair, securing his arms with the iron shackles.
--------
Dudley looked around, his nervousness evident as he glanced at the courtroom, but his gaze quickly settled on his target—the bearded old wizard seated next to the referee's chair, and Nina standing on the other side.
Dudley felt a surge of confidence and smiled at Nina, who wore a solemn expression and had a troubled look in her eyes.
The president of the court had a serious demeanor and deep-set eyes. He was dressed in a neat suit beneath a purple robe. Dudley guessed he was Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister of Magic, who typically presided over important court hearings.
The trial was straightforward. Nina explained the situation briefly, with jurors occasionally raising their hands to interrupt, but overall, the facts were clear and understandable. Dudley felt detached from the proceedings, as if he were merely an observer rather than a participant. Not a single question was directed at him, making him feel like an object rather than a person.
"Miss Cummings, are you claiming that this Muggle child killed Linton while you were incapacitated by the Cruciatus Curse?" an elderly witch asked in a sharp voice.
Before Nina could respond, whispers erupted among the audience. No one seemed to believe that the chubby 12-year-old Muggle in the courtroom could have defeated the infamous dark wizard known for his extreme cruelty.
"Order! Order!" Fudge banged his gavel on the bench. Once the room quieted, the bearded old wizard next to him spoke in a soft voice, "Mr. Minister, may I ask this Muggle gentleman why he was at the crime scene?"
Dudley blinked at the old wizard, cleared his throat, and began, "Ladies and gentlemen..."
Suddenly, Dudley convulsed as if he had been struck by a powerful jolt of electricity. His body shook violently, his eyes rolled back, and uncontrollable drool and snot flowed from his face. The surrounding wizards were startled, uncertain if he was ill or under some curse.
"Riddle!" Dudley roared, his voice echoing like a wild beast: "He created Horcruxes!... One, two... seven Horcruxes in total!"
A stunned silence fell over the room.
It was as if Dudley's words had cast a silencing charm on the assembly, rendering them speechless. His declaration seemed to hold an uncanny power, leaving the wizards visibly shaken.
Except for Dudley, Nina, and Jeb, everyone present had lived through the dark times over a decade ago, an era overshadowed by the Dark Lord. Many details of that period were locked away in a few documents, and the mention of such things was rare, especially from a young person.
Once Dudley finished speaking, he slumped into the dock, appearing exhausted and lifeless. The old bearded wizard who had asked the question moved quickly to Dudley's side. Just as he was about to reach out to touch Dudley's forehead, Dudley stirred, looking dazed.
"What just happened, sir?" Dudley asked, his expression blank as if he were completely unaware of what had occurred. His round face, with snot dripping down, gave him a look of innocent bewilderment. Who could doubt him? If anyone did, they must be a conspirator.
The old wizard took out a slender wand and waved it in front of Dudley's head. The motion caused a sharp pain in Dudley's brain, and stars danced before his eyes. Suddenly, the iron shackles binding him broke apart with a loud snap, the fragments narrowly missing Jeb's face.
The wizards took a collective breath, recovering from their shock.
"Mr. Minister," the old wizard turned to Fudge with a mixed expression, "I'm afraid Mr. Dursley is an unregistered wizard with very weak magical abilities… but he seems to possess a natural prophetic ability!"
"This is nonsense! Absolute nonsense!" Fudge's reaction was exaggerated; his face turned red with anger as he appeared ready to intervene personally, perhaps even to silence Dudley permanently.
The old wizard handed Dudley a white handkerchief. Dudley wiped the drool and snot from his face, appearing somewhat dazed.
"Still the same question, Mr. Dursley," the old wizard said, "Why were you at the crime scene?"
"No, Albus, I am the presiding judge here," Fudge interjected, clearly eager to prevent Dudley from speaking further. Albus, the name Fudge mentioned, referred to the bearded man next to Dudley—none other than the esteemed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, a revered figure among wizards.
However, few wizards seemed willing to side with Fudge. Curiosity about Dudley, an unregistered wizard, was evident.
"Sir, I had a nightmare a few days ago. It seemed that if I didn't show up, a beautiful lady would be in danger!" Dudley said, turning to smile at Nina. "It looks like you were the one I dreamed about!"
"Ah, you came to save me!" Nina said in surprise. Dudley's image in her mind had shifted from "a chubby ordinary Muggle kid" to "the fat kid who saved my life."
"Aha! The truth is coming to light!" Dumbledore said with a smile. "Due to his prophetic gift, young Mr. Dursley followed his vision and happened to encounter Miss Auror Cumin while she was in pursuit of Linton!"
"My name is Nina Cummings, Mr. Dumbledore," Nina corrected weakly from the sidelines.
"You are merely a trainee and have been suspended…" Scrimgeour added quietly from the crowd.
Dumbledore acknowledged Nina with a playful nod and continued, "Mr. Dursley inadvertently unleashed magic when Linton's throat was constricted!" He waved his wand excitedly, and golden sparks flared like fireworks. It was well known how destructive an Obscurus (uncontrolled magic) could be, often leading to severe consequences.
"Fortunately, we identified Mr. Dursley as an unregistered wizard in time, preventing a potential disaster. As you know, an Obscurial outbreak would have been a major issue for the Ministry."
Murmurs of agreement spread through the crowd. Wizards and witches seemed eager to voice their opinions but hesitated to do so openly in front of Fudge and Dumbledore.
"I propose that this... gentleman is not guilty. After all, in the context of the situation… and given that the deceased was an evil criminal," an elderly witch with a stern appearance suggested.
"Thank you for your input, Melana," Dumbledore said, nodding toward her.
It was clear that Dumbledore was trying to shield Dudley. His dedication to protecting young wizards was well-known, and his support for the 12-year-old was understandable. At the same time, it was evident that Fudge held a strong bias against Dudley, creating a clear division among those present.
--------
The chaos was quickly resolved, and Dudley was found not guilty by a majority vote. It was deemed unreasonable to blame an underage wizard who had been overlooked by the Ministry of Magic, and his outbreak of uncontrolled magic had not caused any harm. In fact, he had saved a Ministry employee and dealt with a jailbreak.
Some wizards even felt that Dudley deserved a medal, though of course, Minister Fudge was not the first to agree.
There were murmurs of discontent among the wizards, accusing Dumbledore of manipulating the proceedings, which made the presiding judge somewhat uncomfortable, questioning whether Dumbledore had overstepped his authority as the chief wizard of the Wizengamot.
Dudley knew that Dumbledore would not be bothered by such gossip. He was confident that Dumbledore would seek him out, as only Dumbledore could truly understand his "prophecy." Dudley hoped that Dumbledore would be the one to oversee his progress.
Regardless of whether Dudley genuinely possessed the gift of prophecy, Dumbledore would not ignore any information related to "Tom Riddle." The best course of action for Dumbledore would be to recruit Dudley to Hogwarts and closely monitor his "prophecies" to find the "seven Horcruxes" he had mentioned.
The number seven was indeed surprising to Dumbledore.
This was Dudley's plan.
The only regret was not being able to say a proper goodbye to Nina. After Dudley was brusquely escorted out of the courtroom by Jeb, he never saw Nina again.
Thanks to the diligence of the Ministry of Magic staff, both Vernon and Petunia had forgotten that their son had been away for several days. However, Dudley had clearly changed significantly. Petunia even suspected that Harry had somehow cursed Dudley before leaving, considering the strange magic involved.
By the way, due to the "Dobby the House-Elf Incident" last month, Vernon had put Harry in solitary confinement. Consequently, Ron and his twin brothers had stolen their father's flying car and picked Harry up, bringing him to the Burrow, the Weasley family home in Devon.
At this point, Dudley's annoying cousin was still likely hanging out with his group of "wizard and geek friends" day and night.
There were still about ten days left of summer vacation. It would be dishonest to say that there was no urgency. Dudley could only cope by exercising rigorously and enduring hunger to alleviate some of the psychological pressure. Fortunately, the Ordnance Manual system had not reported any dangers during this period, allowing him a few days of normal Muggle time.
Eventually, what was destined to happen did. On the night of August 8th, after seeing Dudley lose nearly twenty pounds in just ten days, Petunia and Vernon anxiously paced in front of the TV, eating chocolate rings and watching soap operas. Their happy days seemed to be gone forever.
The door was knocked gently and politely.
"That little beast must be back!" Vernon, already in a foul mood, prepared to give the person outside a piece of his mind. However, when he opened the door, he found Dumbledore, clad in black robes, and a black cat standing there.
Dumbledore was quite tall. Even without a tall wizard's hat, he was still a head taller than Vernon. Vernon immediately swallowed the harsh words he had prepared.
This was not the first encounter Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had with Dumbledore. In fact, Dumbledore had previously "threatened" them, and they knew very well that he was someone they could not afford to offend.
"Ah! Mr. Dumbledore, you're finally here! And Professor McGonagall too, hello!" Seeing Dudley greeting Dumbledore warmly, Vernon and Petunia exchanged bewildered looks, their minds racing.
"Aha! Magical prophecy!" Dumbledore explained the purpose of his visit with a smile. As Dudley had anticipated, he brought the acceptance letter to Hogwarts. However, Professor McGonagall did not revert to her human form; she circled Dudley a few times and then left. Dumbledore only needed to confirm that Professor McGonagall had no objections.
The brief time they spent together was pleasant. Dumbledore had a friendly chat with Dudley about minor wizarding matters. Dudley knew that Dumbledore was actually concerned about his mental health and the risk of another outbreak of uncontrolled magic. Dumbledore had always been cautious about such matters.
There were also emotional moments. Petunia cried throughout the night, and Vernon smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. They knew that their only son had become what they had once considered a "freak." Of course, that term would never be used again in their home and would be replaced with "magical wizard."
"How many pounds can be exchanged for one galleon?" The next day, Vernon, wearing his half-rimmed glasses reserved for work, began calculating the cost of Dudley's schooling using a calculator. As a father, he reverted to rational thinking quickly.
Petunia, on the other hand, continued to cry, and regardless of whether Dudley needed them, she baked ten chocolate cakes for him to take along.
The inevitable farewell arrived, and Dudley had to go to Diagon Alley to purchase his school supplies. Vernon drove him to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron in Westminster, London, and gave him a heartfelt kiss goodbye. Vernon's eyes were filled with tears as he turned away.
Dudley held his head high and pushed open the door of the Leaky Cauldron. The bar was bustling with people and crowded with patrons. Many wizards had peculiar habits, such as eating raw meat or strange creatures, which often startled first-time young witches and wizards. Dudley was prepared for this, but someone else was taken aback.
"Dudley!" A voice shouted from a booth in the corner of the bar. A group of students wearing black school uniforms sat there. One of them, wearing black-rimmed glasses and a familiar face, was none other than his cousin Harry.
"Hi, cousin!" Dudley smiled, waved to Harry, and politely squeezed past him. He was a bit surprised to see Harry here; he had expected Harry to use floo powder to reach Mr. Borkin's magic items shop. Perhaps a slight mispronunciation had altered the details.
A circle of people surrounded Harry. Dudley recognized them by their appearances: the petite and clever Hermione Granger, the scruffy red-haired Ron Weasley, Ron's twin brothers George and Fred, and the only adult in an old, worn coat, who must be Ron's father, Arthur.
"Mr. Weasley, nice to meet you. I am Harry's cousin Dudley Dursley," Dudley said politely, extending his hand to Arthur first.
"Ah, it's you!" Arthur was momentarily surprised but quickly realized who Dudley was. He stood up and shook Dudley's hand warmly.
Arthur Weasley, the Director of the Department for the Prohibition of the Misuse of Muggle Items at the Ministry of Magic, had heard the news about an unregistered young wizard who had experienced an Obscurus outbreak and dealt with a wanted criminal. Regardless of the method, eliminating a dangerous criminal was impressive and awe-inspiring.
---
After hearing about Dudley's "glorious deeds," Harry, Hermione, and Ron were utterly flabbergasted, and George and Fred Weasley immediately took an interest in him.
Originally, the Weasley family, along with Hermione, had heard of Dudley as being irritable, rude, and often bullying Harry. They were even a bit apprehensive about his presence. But today, Dudley seemed different from the person they had imagined, and the most surprising revelation was that he wasn't a Muggle after all.
Dudley smiled slightly, spreading his hands in a gesture of openness. "Fate is unpredictable, cousin Harry. Although we didn't get along very well when we were younger, I actually envied you a lot. Which child wouldn't want to be a wizard? Anyway, I'm sorry for everything, and I hope we can start fresh and be friends again." With that, he extended his right hand.
Seeing the sincerity in Dudley's eyes, Harry's kind heart began to soften. Although he had disliked Dudley's past behavior, he still felt a bond with his cousin, who was only five weeks older than him. After all, Harry had saved Dudley from Dementors later in life, indicating that despite everything, there was still a connection between them. This genuine apology was enough for Harry to let bygones be bygones.
As Harry and Dudley shook hands, the Weasley twins erupted into cheers.
"What's all the noise about?" A woman with messy hair and a beautiful little girl squeezed through the crowd, holding a large platter filled with food.
Dudley understood that sometimes keeping a bit of distance was wise, and he didn't force his way into the Weasley family's close-knit circle. He politely excused himself and declined Mrs. Weasley's warm hospitality. There would be time in the future to connect. Besides, Dudley knew they were heading to Flourish and Blotts Bookstore soon, where a chaotic encounter with the new professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, was bound to happen, something Dudley preferred to avoid.
His admission letter clearly stated the essentials for first-year students. Although Dudley was older than Harry, he had no choice but to start as a first-year student. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to learn the foundational spells, ancient texts, and other necessary basics.
He needed to purchase a wand, a cloak, a quill, first-year textbooks, and many other items, including a pet—an owl, a rat, or a toad.
But Dudley had something else on his mind. Ignoring the bustling crowds, he made a beeline for the place he considered a "holy site"—the Quidditch Supply Store.
Flying through the air had always been a dream for many throughout history. From the ancient tale of Ikaris to the records of the Persian king in the "Book of Kings," from Plato's friend Alcetus to the father of British King Lear, people had always yearned to fly. Dudley was no exception.
One of Dudley's regrets in his previous life was that despite his outstanding record in assault missions, he was never able to become a fighter pilot. Now, having been reincarnated as a wizard, nothing would stop him from becoming a Quidditch player... except perhaps being poor.
"Wha—1200 Galleons for a Nimbus 2001?!" Dudley exclaimed when he saw the broomstick with silver pedals and a black handle displayed in the store window. He knew it would be expensive, but not that expensive! With the purchasing power of 1200 Galleons, you could buy a small apartment in London.
Dudley's family was considered upper-middle class, and they doted on him, but they wouldn't give him enough money to buy something equivalent to a house. His heart sank as he looked at the 400 Galleons in his pocket.
The clerk in the Quidditch store could tell at a glance that Dudley wasn't a serious buyer, so he didn't bother with him. After all, only professional Quidditch teams or wealthy families could afford to buy the latest broomsticks every year. The kids and enthusiasts who gathered around the display every day were never potential customers to the store clerks, but they did help maintain the products' popularity.
With the Nimbus 2001 out of reach, Dudley decided to see if he could find an older model.
New models were on the market, so the Nimbus 2000 had been reduced to 980 Galleons, while the Nimbus 1700 was priced at 750 Galleons.
Dudley shook his head helplessly. Even if he got a Nimbus 1700, it wouldn't be enough to beat Harry, the chosen one. He would still get crushed by Malfoy, especially since Lucius Malfoy had equipped the entire Slytherin team with Nimbus 2001s to ensure his son's success.
There were many other broomstick brands, with the more affordable options being the "Clean Sweep" and "Comet" series, but they couldn't compete with the Nimbus series in terms of speed and agility.
Dudley browsed the store, growing more disappointed with each turn. The best he could afford was an outdated Clean Sweep Six or a Comet 260, which were only marginally better than the school brooms provided during flying lessons at Hogwarts. Competing with one of these would be a joke.
But he couldn't rob Gringotts with a broken pistol, could he? He had just reconciled with Harry; it wouldn't do to ask his cousin for money now.
The store clerk, having lost interest, walked away from Dudley. Just then, the store door swung open, and a girl walked in, accompanied by a butler and a maid.
"Miss Abe! Welcome!" The clerks immediately perked up and rushed to greet her.
The Asian girl was stunningly beautiful, no older than 14, yet tall and poised. She wore a slim-fitting silk robe adorned with intricate patterns, and her waist-length black hair cascaded like a waterfall. Her features were so exquisite that even Dudley, who was used to seeing beautiful women, couldn't help but be impressed.
Her presence immediately captured the room's attention, and other customers discreetly moved aside, except for Dudley, who stood frozen in front of the Nimbus display.
The elderly butler approached Dudley, his wrinkled face forming a stiff smile as he spoke in impeccable English, "Sir, have you made your selection?"
His look was clear: If you're not buying, move aside.
"No need to disturb anyone, Uncle Akihito. I'm just here to get my broom serviced," Miss Abe said from behind the butler. She glanced at her maid, who promptly produced a black-handled Nimbus 2001 adorned with a custom dragon painting.
The clerk eagerly took the broom and asked the girl about her needs, while the butler continued to glare at Dudley, as if determined to make him move.
Suddenly, Miss Abe gasped, pushing past the butler to rush over to Dudley. "You're Dudley! Dudley Dursley!" she exclaimed excitedly.
Dudley stood there, stunned, pointing at himself. "Are you talking to me? Am I that famous?" The last time a girl greeted him like this was in his previous life.
Miss Abe grabbed Dudley's hand, her expression full of excitement. "I saw your picture when the British Ministry of Magic asked me to sign the paperwork!"
Feeling her soft hands and catching a faint whiff of her cornflower perfume, Dudley couldn't help but think, The world is truly beautiful.
-------------
Dudley felt like his luck had finally turned. If Nina was his ideal type, then Ayame Abe was on a whole different level—she was like a goddess, and she seemed to be friendly toward him.
"Are you here to buy a broom?" Ayame asked, noticing Dudley's uneasy expression as he stared at a Comet 260. She could tell he was short on money; after all, no wealthy young master would be caught hesitating over such a basic model.
"Yeah, I just got accepted to Hogwarts... I want to join the house Quidditch team," Dudley admitted, scratching his head in embarrassment.
"Uh..." Ayame couldn't help but glance at Dudley's figure. Even if he lost a few pounds, he was still on the heavy side. As everyone knows, the heavier the rider, the slower the broom.
The clerk nearby weakly added, "If you weigh more than 260 pounds, you really need to consider a broom with more power... The Comet 260 might not cut it..." Seeing Dudley's glare, the clerk quickly shut up.
Meanwhile, the other clerk had already finished repairing Ayame's Nimbus 2001, which only needed a basic maintenance . The broom was now polished and gleaming, its graceful curves and fine craftsmanship causing Dudley to practically drool.
"Take it. It's yours!" Ayame suddenly thrust the broom into Dudley's arms.
"What? Am I dreaming?" Dudley was in disbelief. The idea that a girl he had just met would gift him something so valuable was beyond his wildest dreams!
The old butler's previously arrogant demeanor softened noticeably. He didn't say anything to stop Ayame, almost as if Dudley had suddenly gained a new level of respect in his eyes.
The store clerks were stunned. They had seen wealthy patrons spoil beautiful girls before, but they had never witnessed a rich girl give such an extravagant gift to someone like Dudley.
"I don't know why... but thank you!" Dudley held the Nimbus 2001 tightly, admiring the intricate dragon-shaped decoration that perfectly matched his newfound sense of confidence.
Although Ayame seemed eager to chat more, the old butler checked his pocket watch and whispered something to her. Ayame nodded, gave Dudley a small bow, and said, "Thank you again, Mr. Dursley. We'll meet again."
As quickly as she had arrived, the girl was gone. Dudley didn't dare say anything to keep her around, half-afraid she might change her mind about the broom.
The store clerks were now much more enthusiastic, gathering around to offer Dudley various maintenance services for the Nimbus 2001. They even persuaded him to buy a set of trimming and waxing tools—the same kind Hermione had given Harry on his 13th birthday. Dudley knew it would come in handy.
He also used the opportunity to ask about Ayame Abe's identity, but all the clerk knew was that she hailed from a prominent magical family in korea and was traveling for her studies.
Not thinking too much about it, Dudley happily left the Quidditch boutique with the Nimbus 2001 in hand. He felt as if the universe was smiling down on him—everything was falling into place.
The rest of his shopping trip went smoothly. Diagon Alley wasn't very big, so he bumped into Harry and the others again. Seeing Dudley struggling with his many bags, Mr. Weasley offered to help transport everything to the train station, allowing Dudley to naturally fall in with Harry's group.
They spent the entire afternoon wandering around. While their parents were away, George and Fred sneaked off to buy a bunch of weird magical materials, while Ron and Harry couldn't get enough of the wand-shooting game that cost 10 Knuts a try.
"I heard you rescued a female Auror?" Hermione asked Dudley in a hushed tone, sidling up next to him.
"Well, it was just a coincidence... she was injured protecting me," Dudley replied modestly. Hermione's hair was as bushy as ever, and Ginny's was neatly combed. Both girls were cute, but to Dudley, they seemed like children.
"You're very brave; you'll definitely be in Gryffindor!" Hermione said earnestly. For her, wishing someone into Gryffindor was the highest compliment, and Ginny nodded in agreement.
Dudley scratched his head "humbly" and expressed that he had long admired brave individuals , but he knew deep down that he was ambitious and competitive. Despite hiding it well, the Sorting Hat wouldn't be fooled—he was destined for Slytherin.
As night fell, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley reappeared, and Dudley suspected they'd been enjoying a quiet afternoon tea after loading everyone's shopping into the car. Dudley planned to stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the night, and although Ron wasn't thrilled about it, Mr. Weasley suggested that Harry and Dudley share a room, perhaps hoping to further mend their relationship.
Despite the Leaky Cauldron's underwhelming food, the bed was surprisingly comfortable—clean, soft, and fluffy. As they lay there, Harry finally couldn't hold back his curiosity any longer.
"Dudley, how did you become a wizard? I never saw any signs of it!"
Dudley scratched his head awkwardly. "I don't really know. I had a strange dream, and then I got caught up in that horrible incident... Dumbledore said my dream was a prophecy. I wasn't registered as a wizard."
"Oh, that makes sense! Maybe you started showing magic when you solved that circus bear puzzle when you were 9 years old! You must have awakened your magic back then!" Harry declared with confidence. He trusted Dumbledore completely, so if Dumbledore believed it, then it had to be true.
"Aha... well..." Dudley quickly changed the subject. "Do you know anything about a magical family from Korea? I think they're called Abe."
"I do!" Harry jumped at the chance to share what he knew. Ever since learning that Dudley was also a wizard, Harry had felt a bit awkward. Being able to do magic had always been his greatest pride. Sometimes, when he was upset, he'd comfort himself by thinking, "Don't worry, they're just Muggles." But now that they were on equal footing, that confidence had faded a bit.
Harry rummaged through his belongings and pulled out a wrinkled copy of the Daily Prophet. He handed it to Dudley, saying, "They're supposed to be a really powerful family, but one of their heirs was attacked and killed in France about a year ago. It caused quite a stir."
Dudley took the newspaper and read the headline. It wasn't about the attack from a year ago but rather a more recent event:
"Dark Wizard Who Attacked the Abe Family of Korea , Escapes from Prison. Abe Family Representatives Arrive in Europe to Pressure the French Ministry of Magic."
Dudley immediately understood. It had been the bloodthirsty Linton who attacked the Abe family a year ago, and Dudley had avenged them by killing Linton. That explained why Ayame had mentioned seeing his photo in the case file and why she had given him such a precious Nimbus 2001.
----
Dudley took a deep breath as the shimmering light formed into an ordnance manual in his right hand, summoned by his thoughts.
He realized that the system's tasks were far from random. The earlier registration task had seemed challenging, but it was actually a huge opportunity. If he had trusted the system completely and consumed the revolver immediately, killing Linton wouldn't have been difficult—the thunderstorm bullet could have pierced Linton's defensive magic, and recoil wouldn't have caused him to miss the shot.
The rewards for completing the task were immense. They granted him magical powers, officially introduced him to the wizarding world through the Ministry of Magic, and earned him the favor of a prominent Korean family. It was like upgrading from a shotgun to a cannon, from a bicycle to a motorcycle.
"Harry," Dudley approached, speaking seriously, "Can you do me a favor?"
Harry adjusted his glasses, wary of what Dudley might ask. He still remembered Dudley's ruthlessness over the past decade.
"Teach me how to fly a broomstick," Dudley said decisively. "I want to join the Quidditch team!"
"What?" Harry looked at Dudley's bulky frame and hesitated. "It's not that I don't want to teach you... but, well..." He pointed at Dudley's belly and thick legs.
"I'm losing weight! Don't you think I've slimmed down a bit since the start of summer?" Dudley said earnestly, showing off his recent weight loss.
"That's true..." Harry's eyebrows raised, deepening the wrinkles on his forehead. The lightning-shaped scar on his brow became more prominent as he still doubted Dudley's Quidditch aspirations.
"So, what position do you want to play? If you can join the team?" Harry couldn't help but ask as his excitement about Quidditch got the better of him.
"Seeker!" Dudley declared.
Harry was speechless.
The next day, Mr. Weasley took them to King's Cross Station in two groups. Dudley pushed his luggage trolley and, with Harry's guidance, rushed through the barrier to Platform 9¾.
Perhaps Dudley's intrusion disrupted the order of entry, preventing Dobby from successfully casting the spell that would have blocked Harry's path, sparing them from what could have been an unpleasant speeding trip.
After the previous night, Dudley and Harry had grown more amicable. After all, they were both teenagers, and most young people didn't hold grudges. Dudley secretly vowed to repay Harry's kindness when the opportunity arose.
As the Hogwarts Express filled with excited students, the train was packed with laughter and playful chatter, while various pets scampered around the compartments.
The boys huddled together, discussing summer games or the latest wizard cards; the girls gossiped about the new professors, particularly the handsome Gilderoy Lockhart, who was quite the celebrity.
Hermione, of course, was different from the other girls. While Harry and Ron wandered off to join the twins, she took out a thick tome and delved into obscure ancient texts.
Dudley sat across from Hermione, staring out the window in a daze. Hermione understood—riding the magical train for the first time must have been quite a novel experience.
But Dudley was focused on the ordnance manual that suddenly appeared before him, as a new mission had been announced. The system's soft beep sounded in his ear.
[Mission Triggered: Board the Hogwarts Express and Automatically Accept the Hunting Mission (lv.1)]
[Hunting Mission (lv.1): Eliminate Odo Robin (Impostor) and Obtain "Clues to the Faceless Man"]
[Reward: Random D-Level Sub-Skill Orb*1, 2000 Galleons]
[Failure Penalty: Erasure]
[Time Limit: 72 Hours]
[Countdown: 71:59:45]
Dudley frowned. He was supposed to kill someone named "Odo Robin (Impostor)" within three days. The time seemed sufficient, but the mission lacked detailed information, leaving him to figure things out on his own.
Since the mission was triggered upon boarding the train, Dudley deduced that the target was likely at Hogwarts. If the target were closer, the system wouldn't have given him so much time.
The "(Impostor)" notation suggested someone disguised as Odo Robin. Alternatively, Odo Robin might have disguised himself as someone else, which would complicate things. In the magical world, there were numerous ways to perfectly disguise oneself. Without knowing the target's true identity, finding them in a massive school like Hogwarts would be tough.
The "Clue to the Faceless Man" phrase also gave Dudley some ideas. It hinted at a secret organization. The "Faceless Man" title implied covert activities, far from the light of day.
With these three points in mind, Dudley concluded that a member of the Faceless Men had infiltrated Hogwarts, disguised as Odo Robin, possibly to carry out some secretive mission. Based on past experience, the system wouldn't have tasked him with killing an ordinary person.
Dudley spent the entire afternoon thinking and asking classmates if they knew someone named "Odo Robin," but to no avail. Even George and Fred, who knew almost everyone, had never heard of the name.
This left Dudley feeling uneasy—failure meant erasure.
He couldn't help but wonder how the system would erase him. Would his heart just stop? Or would his brain simply shut down? Given that some power had transferred his soul into Dudley's body, extracting it again didn't seem that difficult.
The thought made Dudley shiver.
The train gradually slowed to a stop at Hogsmeade Station. The first-years cheered excitedly, and everyone began gathering their belongings.
"You got a new broom?! I saw it!" Harry exclaimed, pointing at the leather-bound case holding the broom among Dudley's luggage.
"It's a Nimbus 2001! The latest model!" Ron added, his eyes filled with envy and jealousy. He couldn't help but feel that everyone in the world was rich—except for him, who couldn't even afford new robes.
"A friend gave it to me as a gift... hehe," Dudley replied modestly. He wasn't one to show off in front of his friends. But then, a voice called out from nearby:
"Out of the way, you fat bird, don't block Slytherin's path with your filthy luggage and massive backside!"
"Malfoy!" Harry stepped in front of Dudley, anger flashing in his eyes. Dudley felt a twinge of appreciation for Harry—anyone willing to stand up for him was someone he should value for life.
Dudley raised his gaze and saw a boy with neatly combed platinum-blonde hair, dressed in an elegant, high-end robe bearing the Slytherin crest. Flanked by Goyle and Crabbe, and followed by the equally disdainful-looking Pansy, it could only be Draco Malfoy and his entourage.
------
"Forget it," Dudley patted Harry on the shoulder. "Let's go; we don't want to be late for our first day."
Harry glanced back at Dudley in surprise. The Dudley he remembered was always a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any provocation. What had happened to make him so calm?
It wasn't that Dudley was afraid; he simply knew Malfoy's future. Draco was a nasty piece of work, full of bravado and ambition, but in the end, he would return to his family and refrain from joining Voldemort. Besides, Dudley was too preoccupied with the hunting mission to bother with this petty bully.
Seeing Dudley "back down" only made the Malfoy and minions laugh harder. Goyle stepped forward and kicked Dudley's luggage, trying to knock it over. Dudley quickly spun around, preventing the luggage from falling on him.
Before Harry and the others could react, Goyle grabbed a fistful of Dudley's hair. But to everyone's surprise, Dudley leaned into the blow, catching Goyle off guard.
Goyle was large and burly, but not much taller than Dudley. With a swift punch to Goyle's side, where no one could see, Dudley made him double over in pain. Grabbing Goyle by the collar, Dudley hoisted him into the air and threw him to the ground at Malfoy's feet, causing the entire carriage to shake.
Dudley smiled and dusted off his hands. He wasn't just any ordinary teenager; he had brought with him the fighting skills from his past life as Samuel Rollins, and even in this new life, Dudley had been the local youth heavyweight boxing champion.
Malfoy was livid. He and the others quickly drew their wands, but Harry, Hermione, and Ron were faster, their wands nearly touching Malfoy's nose. The unspoken challenge was clear: "Do you really want to try something?"
The other students on the train, not yet disembarked, buzzed with excitement at the prospect of a fight.
At that moment, a massive head appeared at the carriage door, crowned with a mane of dirty, tangled hair and a beard like a thicket. Who else could it be but Rubeus Hagrid?
"What's goin' on 'ere? Why ain't yeh all gettin' off the train?" Hagrid's deep voice rumbled through the carriage. It was clear to everyone that he had interrupted a brewing fight.
"Nothing, sir," Dudley said, scratching his head with a look of innocent honesty. "I'm a new student, and a Slytherin upperclassman accidentally slipped and knocked over my luggage."
Malfoy looked ready to explode, but he put his wand away with a scowl. No way he could admit in front of Hagrid that a Slytherin senior got beaten by a first-year. That would be an embarrassment to both him and Professor Snape!
"Hagrid!" Harry beamed as he put his wand away and hugged Hagrid. Ron and Hermione helped Dudley gather his luggage in a stack with trunk side showing his name and leave it in compartment, and Ron gave Dudley a thumbs-up with a broad grin.
Crabbe and Goyle often used their size to bully students from other houses, especially Harry and Ron, who seemed to attract trouble wherever they went. Ron was thrilled to see Goyle put in his place by the unexpectedly formidable "Dark Wizard Killer Dudley."
Once off the train, the students went their separate ways. The second-years could ride in the carriages drawn by thestrals to reach the castle quickly. First-year students, however, had to follow tradition and cross the Black Lake by boat.
Dudley struggled to load his luggage onto the boat and then turned back to help Ginny and a few other new students. Hagrid nodded approvingly at him from a distance.
"I saw what you did. You were really brave!" A small boy with glasses whispered as he sat down beside Dudley.
"Ha, it was nothing," Dudley replied, glancing at the boy. It was clear the kid was hoping to find a "big brother" for protection, but Dudley had no interest in playing the role of nanny.
"I bet you'll get into Gryffindor!" a timid girl sitting across from them said.
Dudley shrugged and looked out over the lake.
As the sun set, casting a long shadow over the tall Gothic castle on the far shore, the sight left many of the newcomers in awe. But for Dudley, it was a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.
The tension he felt wasn't born of fear or anxiety, but rather a mix of excitement and determination. He wasn't destined for mediocrity; he was here to carve out a place for himself in the magical world.
"Ah! What is that?" one of the new students on a nearby boat cried out in horror as a tentacle, thick as a barrel and more than ten meters long, emerged from the lake and slapped the water, causing a huge splash that rocked the boats.
"Don' worry! That's jus' the giant squid!" Hagrid called out from the lead boat, trying to calm everyone down. "It's huge, but harmless to people..."
Dudley craned his neck to get a better look and saw the squid's massive, tooth-lined mouth as it rolled over in the water. He couldn't help but gulp, and he noticed the other new students looking equally frightened.
To Dudley's surprise, the Ordnance Manual appeared before him, issuing another mission.
[Rare magical creature detected: Giant Squid (lv.5)]
[Trigger optional mission - Revenant Hunter (repeatable): Hunt the Giant Squid, no time limit.]
[Mission reward: Soul power +20, delicious calamari skewers (excellent)*3]
The corners of Dudley's mouth twitched. The reward for killing this enormous creature was three calamari skewers? He could grill some himself if that was the case! A creature this size could provide a thousand skewers!
Besides, the squid was likely over a hundred years old. If he grilled it, the meat would probably be tough!
In the end, the squid didn't eat any of the new students, despite how fresh and tasty they might have seemed. Dudley suspected the creature was kept at Hogwarts specifically to scare the first-years. Otherwise, why would they have to cross the lake in boats?
The boats eventually reached the small dock in front of the castle, and Hagrid began helping the students out, most of whom had managed to get their robes or luggage wet.
"Impervius!" The small boy with glasses pulled out his wand and tapped his wet shoes, then Dudley's cloth, with a grin.
Dudley watched as the moisture disappeared , clearly impressed. It seemed this boy knew his stuff, even as a first-year.
Hermione had used magic to repair Harry's glasses back in their first year. While most wizarding families refrained from letting their children use wands before they turned eleven to avoid magical mishaps, some were keen on early education, ensuring their children knew all the lower-grade spells before starting school.
In modern terms, this was called being "overly competitive."
"My name's Philo, Philo Watson!" The small boy offered his hand to Dudley.
Dudley smiled and shook his hand lightly. "Dudley Dursley." He sighed inwardly, thinking that even here, people couldn't seem to leave him alone.
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Harry and Ron arrived at Hogwarts without a hitch, sparing Mr. Weasley's enchanted car from a painful encounter with the Whomping Willow. They were early to the Great Hall, mingling with their classmates and sharing stories.
Meanwhile, Dudley and the other first-year students, donned in their new black pointed hats, cautiously entered the magnificent Great Hall. Harry and his friends cheered enthusiastically from the Gryffindor table as the new students made their way in.
Despite being mentally prepared, Dudley was still awestruck by the splendor of the magical hall. Hundreds of floating candles illuminated the four long tables filled with students. The golden plates and goblets sparkled in the warm candlelight, and the enchanted ceiling mirrored the starry night sky above, more vivid and spectacular than any telescope could show.
At the far end of the hall, Professor Flitwick, who was tiny in stature, stood beside the Sorting Hat, which was perched on a chair. Nearby, Professor McGonagall, with her hair tightly pulled into a bun, looked on with a keen eye as the Sorting ceremony began. Dumbledore, towering over the staff table with his long beard and a hat resembling a nightcap, smiled warmly as he made the opening remarks.
Though Dudley was curious about which house he would join, his mind was preoccupied with his hunting mission to find "Odo Robin." With only 65 hours left to complete the task, he worried about the nighttime curfew, which would trap him in the dormitory for at least ten hours each night, severely limiting his freedom.
As the ceremony proceeded, Dudley scanned the room, hoping to spot someone suspicious, but everyone, except for Professor Snape, who glared back at him with his signature scowl, seemed engrossed in the Sorting. Ginny Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor, much to the delight of her brothers, who nearly caused a ruckus before Professor McGonagall and Snape's stern looks silenced them.
Dudley's attention was drawn to a blond man wearing an exaggerated aqua robe. He guessed this was Gilderoy Lockhart, the wizard adored by middle-aged witches. If anyone in the room appeared suspicious, it was this eccentric figure.
"Dudley Dursley!" Professor McGonagall called out, repeating his name when he didn't immediately respond. Philo nudged him forward, causing a ripple of laughter from the Slytherin table.
"Don't let that chubby kid end up in Slytherin!" Malfoy sneered loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I'd lose my appetite if he sits at our table!"
Pansy Parkinson, sitting beside Malfoy, asked timidly, "Why do you call him chubby?"
"Because he's a fat little rookie!" Malfoy and his cronies burst into laughter.
Ignoring them, Dudley strode to the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head. A strange warmth surrounded him, and memories long forgotten resurfaced, along with feelings of regret and shame. It was a whirlwind of emotions.
"Hmm... this is a tough one," the Sorting Hat murmured. "You're brave, no doubt about that, and quick to act. Gryffindor would suit you well. But there's also a strategic mind here, determined and resourceful—Slytherin could be your home. Ah, but you also have a thirst for knowledge and a keen mind—Ravenclaw might be where you belong..."
Dudley, feeling the pressure of all eyes on him, thought desperately, "Just pick one already! Everyone's watching!"
"Ah, easygoing too, I see," the Sorting Hat chuckled. "Very well, it shall be Hufflepuff!"
The Hufflepuff table erupted in applause as Dudley joined them. Though not the most conspicuous, the Hufflepuffs greeted him warmly. Professor Sprout, the Head of Hufflepuff, smiled approvingly.
A tall, handsome boy introduced himself as Cedric Diggory and welcomed Dudley to the table. Dudley recognized him as the future Hufflepuff team captain and a leader among the students.
Dudley was surprised by the Sorting Hat's decision. Hufflepuff was known for its values of "hard work, patience, loyalty, and fair play." He wondered if he truly embodied these qualities, especially considering his past. However, he was determined not to betray his friends, even if he didn't see himself as the most "loyal" or "honest" person.
Sitting beside Dudley was a chubby boy with golden curly hair and a friendly smile. "Hello, I'm Neville Longbottom," he introduced himself, flashing Dudley a grin.
Dudley returned the smile, though his thoughts were still focused on Lockhart. He needed to find out more about this suspicious wizard.
Philo, who had been sorted into Ravenclaw, waved at Dudley from across the hall, looking pleased with his placement.
Neville nudged Dudley, interrupting his thoughts. "Aren't you going to eat? The food's great!"
The Sorting Ceremony had ended, and the tables were now laden with a feast. The aroma was overwhelming, and Dudley's stomach growled in protest, reminding him that he had barely eaten all day.
Dudley glanced at the roast chicken and pork neck in front of him, but instead of indulging, he grabbed a small plate of potato cabbage and lettuce salad, turning away from the tantalizing dishes.
"Not a fan of chicken? How about some black pepper sausage? The house elves are amazing cooks!" Neville offered, though his words were slightly muffled by a mouthful of food.
"No, thanks. I'm trying to lose weight," Dudley replied, his voice filled with longing as he forced himself to stick to his diet.
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