Two weeks before OWLs, with Dumbledore's permission, Dudley took over one of the classrooms and used it as his private interview hall. The goal was to meet the seventh years who'd give their NEWTs, and if they were decent, he'd offer them jobs.
At that point, Dudley's D&D Holdings employed almost sixty percent of British wizards; the rest were purbloods with their own businesses, owned small shops, worked in small companies, or were employed by the Ministry.
"Approved." He put a stamp on a sort of resume. It was just their OWL result card. According to their abilities, he sent them to different industries. He circled a few Muggleborn names for possible Vanguard recruitment as well. Anyone with decent arithmancy skills was sent to the banking side. Those good with Transfiguration and Charms were mostly sent to manufacturing.
Potions and Alchemy top graders were sent to his soon-to-be global hospital chain, and those with Muggle studies grades were going to be made top-tier corporate espionage specialists. The best in Quidditch were selected for the Quidditch team he was thinking of building.
He had a lot of plans. He had the chance now to own the entire world, and he wanted to do it. It was going to take years, perhaps decades, but he was in it for the long game. Taking over various magical ministries was easy for him. But the realm game was out there amongst the Muggles, where the real money and resources rested. He needed his bankrolled candidates in high positions, be it governments or large companies.
He had the element of surprise right now. One day, he knew someone like himself would appear and challenge him. Before that happened, he had to eat up as much as he could and make himself unshakable.
"Hmm… Divination." Dudley looked at the OWL's grade sheet and pondered. "I'll consider you for a post in the Divination wing, but you'll need to make an Unbreakable Vow first—that your readings remain strictly between yourself, me, and my staff. No exceptions. Some visions may well concern me, and I won't have them wandering beyond trusted circles."
The female Ravenclaw frowned, thinking deeply.
"Your starting salary will be two thousand galleons in the first year. Each year, during your appraisal, you'll be eligible for a raise of five to ten percent, based on your performance." Dudley made the offer too good to refuse. Two thousand galleons was slightly more than a hundred thousand dollars. That much money for a Hogwarts graduate was a lot. Even by Muggle standards, it was a lot.
"Yes! I-I'll accept the job… Sir."
"Approved." Dudley stamped the paper and sent her away. Quickly after, another came, a guy.
What the hell am I to do with this?
He looked at the grades, and Care of Magical Creatures stood out.
Open a magical zoo? Hmm… Sounds interesting. I could hire that Scamander guy as director.
"Approved!"
"Yes!" The guy jumped, a Hufflepuff. "Thanks, Big D, you're the best!"
Dudley just smiled, his brows twitching. He loved being called Big D by girls because it meant different things to them. But when guys did it, it felt… weird.
Again, the door opened, and the next candidate walked in.
Dudley didn't smile this time. "What, you're actually quitting Hogwarts after OWLs?"
"Why are you doing this to my family?!" Pansy Parkinson yelled, her face pale, eyes dark from insomnia, her dark, shoulder-length hair not as shiny anymore. She walked up to his table, dressed in a regular uniform.
Dudley leaned back in that executive chair, arms crossed behind his head, measuring her from head to toe. She wasn't that tall to begin with, and now, with all her pride broken, her confidence lost, she looked even smaller.
"If you're still thick enough to be asking that, you ought to pack it in and leave Hogwarts altogether. A bit late to quit now, though, isn't it? No doting daddy's gold to prop you up either." Dudley's lip curled, watching her bravado wilt. "Repeat what you said on the train. Word for word. Then I'll answer."
Pansy frowned and looked down, her hands clenched the hem of her skirt. "I… I know I said a hurtful thing—"
"If you've come to drivel on with that pathetic excuse for a mouth, leave. Every second I waste on you costs more than your daddy ever scraped together." Dudley flicked his hand as though brushing away dirt.
Tearful, Pansy choked up, her knuckles turned white, clenching her skirt. "I… I said… I don't see any other… f-fat pig's son run… running around…"
"And?"
"And I… I didn't mean to disrespect your deceased ro-rotund father… I'm sorry, Dudley, I was wrong. Please, I didn't know that—"
"That words have consequences?" Dudley snapped back. "I warned you. It was you who chose to ramble for no reason. I had nothing against you. I was just teasing your boyfriend if he's that. Parkinson, if you don't have the means to back your bullshit, it's best to zip your mouth. Sadly, it's too late for you."
"I didn't know that you would… I'm sorry."
"No, you're not sorry. You're put out because you've lost your pampered little princess life. Because you're no longer the big fish you fancied yourself. Because, for once, you're on the bloody receiving end. Because your pureblood supremacy doesn't mean shit in the real world." Dudley retorted and looked at the papers on the table again.
"I'm just a fat pig's son, aren't I? A dirty little Muggleborn. So why are you standing there gawking? Changed your mind about how revolting I am? Spare yourself the trouble of breathing the same air as me."
Dudley started reading the OWL results to find better talents. He didn't spare a glance at Pansy and waited for her to leave.
"P-Please… Just this once… I-I'll do anything."
"Hm?" He heard the sound of clothes moving and looked in front of his table. Pansy had walked closer and was holding her skirt up, baring all her legs and loins. She wore thigh-high stockings and no panties. Her pale, plush thighs filled out of the stocking's edge; her bald pussy was on full display, a clean, tight slit.
He frowned and looked at her face.
Pansy stopped pursing her lips, eyes watery, and spread her legs wider, giving him a better view of her snug lower lips that, in truth, were beautiful, never explored. "I'll do… A-Anything."
"Hmm… tight," Dudley mumbled, staring at her loins, that slick, fiery furnace that looked satin silky. "What's this? Daddy Parkinson sent his daughter to whore around for some cash? Pathetic. Do me a favor, turn around."
"What?! Why?"
He said nothing.
Biting her lips, Pansy turned around as ordered.
"Lean forward towards the door."
Pansy did just that, legs spread, and leaned, making sure her hips surged out.
"Mm… I see a great career ahead as a Knockturn Alley whore." Dudley watched, admiring actually. She had the classic pureblood pampered ass, soft, round, slender. Her asscheeks spread naturally, revealing a glimpse of her dark pink wrinkly hole and her slick, tight rose slit. "Lean more."
Pansy turned almost ninety degrees, feeling so exposed, the air brushing against her folds. This was her first time showing her loins to a guy.
Actually pretty. Too bad, a pretty pussy doesn't always come with a decent personality.
"Now, do me a favor."
Pansy stiffened, expecting that.
"Get out."
"..."
Pansy stood up straight, her skirt falling back down as she turned around. "B-But…"
"What? You think just because I have a bit of fame with girls, I dive into every cunt spread in front of me? Leave now, Parkinson. While I admired what I saw, that face and voice of yours is utterly revolting—"
"I won't make a sound! You can cover my face!" She suggested.
"..."
That desperate? Shit, money does make people crazy.
"Come closer." He waved at her and made her look down at his table. He showed her the stamp he was using. It had the D&D logo on it. "Do you have the faintest idea what this mark is worth?"
Pansy gulped and shook her head.
"Figures, I supposed as much. Look at this." Dudley scribbles numbers onto the page, a long string of zeros. "This is the United Kingdom's gross domestic product for the year, one and a half trillion. That's the country's total worth. And this…"
He wrote another number, at least thirty percent higher than the last one.
"And this is D&D's value, of which I am the sole owner. These are the assets it owns across the globe." Dudley scribbled another figure, smaller, yet still enormous. "Three hundred billion. That was last year's profit. This year? Higher. The dot-com bubble was a goldmine. For your simple mind, I made six billion galleons just last year."
Pansy's face froze, her jaw tightened, and her feet moved backwards, as if she perceived danger. Her father's net worth was a few tens of millions of galleons at best. And that was generational wealth.
"And…" Dudley scratched all the numbers he'd written and burned the paper. "I haven't even added my magical holdings. Diagon Alley, markets across Europe, magical enterprises all over the world, and Ollivanders is now global thanks to me. And don't forget the magical side of D&D Bank. How much more would that make me worth? Twice? Thrice more?"
Pansy Parkinson's mind short-circuited, and her feet pulled her further away from that table. Her mind tried to quantify those numbers in real-world terms. But it only made her more speechless.
Creak!
Dudley got up from his chair, D&D stamp in his hand. He walked around the table and reached her frozen figure. He stood in front of her, grabbed her right arm, pushed her sleeves up roughly, and caressed her pale, soft skin.
"Do you have any idea how many would kill for a single minute of my attention? It's a privilege earned by those in Hogwarts. Every second of my time earns nearly two hundred thousand galleons. The fifteen minutes you spent rambling and spreading your legs cost nearly two hundred million galleons." Dudley said and softly stamped the D&D seal on her forearm, black ink staining her pale skin with a rhombus and the white emblem within. "That is the weight of this symbol and my name."
Pansy just stared at that mark on her forearm. It actually felt heavy. Her hands started shaking, shivering. It wasn't fear, just the overwhelmingness. The grandness. She had no idea who Dudley Dursley was. She never bothered to learn. He was just a Muggleborn who got lucky, not anymore, of course.
"I-I'm sorry." Pansy cried, true tears this time. She simply couldn't think of a way out in front of an insurmountable wall like him. He wanted nothing from her. She offered her dignity, and he rejected that, too.
"P-Please…"
Dudley shrugged and turned around, walking lazily to his chair. "You're worthless to me, Parkinson. Study hard, pass your OWLs and NEWTs, and I might give you a proper job. That's your life now. And don't think for a second my people won't notice. One slip, one shady contact, one stroll into Knockturn Alley, and I'll make sure you and your parents regret it behind Azkaban bars."
To live like a common Muggleborn wizard, starting from scratch. That was the greatest punishment for a pureblood supremacist who wanted to live in Dudley's world. Who wasn't as insane as the likes of Bellatrix?
She nodded and just left the recruitment hall, so much more humble than ever in her entire privileged princess life.
Back inside the hall, Dudley had taken out a mirror from the table drawer.
I don't think I look evil. He fixed his hair. Charming, actually.
Knock! Knock!
Soon enough, the next candidate walked in.
Dudley looked at the OWL grade sheet and frowned.
Top grades in Astronomy? What the hell am I to do with that?
______________________
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