The Hogwarts booklist arrived unusually late this year. Maybe even the owls had trouble tracking down where Dudley and the others were staying. By the time the letters reached them, there were only a few days left before the start of term.
So, bright and early, Dudley took the young wizards to Diagon Alley.
With growing kids came the need for new robes, equipment for new classes, and, of course, new textbooks. Scanning the booklist, Dudley's eyes landed on The Monster Book of Monsters. He paused, a flicker of recognition crossing his face.
He'd seen this thing before.
At Flourish and Blotts, the shop assistant took one look at Dudley's booklist and launched into a tirade. Grumbling, he yanked on a pair of thick leather gloves and stomped over to a large iron cage outside the shop. Inside were hundreds—well, maybe not hundreds—of The Monster Book of Monsters. Calling them "books" didn't feel quite right. These things were alive.
"Oh, Merlin's beard, I've been bitten at least five times today!" the assistant groaned. "Who in their right mind picked this as a textbook? It's an absolute nightmare—worse than that Invisible Book of Invisibility I dealt with back in the day. I'd love to give whoever chose this a good kick in the rear!"
Still muttering, he reached into the cage.
Predictably, one of the books chomped down on his hand.
"Hey, you little menace, let go! Let go!" he shouted, jabbing at the book with a gnarled, sturdy stick. But the more he poked, the tighter the Monster Book clamped down.
Fiery tempers, aggressive tendencies, and a compulsion to bite anything in sight—that was The Monster Book of Monsters in a nutshell. The assistant didn't dare get too rough, though. These books were expensive—pricier than Lockhart's books from last year—and damaging one meant paying for it.
And how much did he earn in a day, anyway?
Nearby, a loud ripping sound erupted as two Monster Books ganged up on a third, trying to tear it apart. Their intelligence was about on par with a flobberworm—hopelessly dim.
After a struggle, the assistant finally freed his hand from the cage and separated the fighting books. In the chaos, he forgot what he was even doing and failed to grab a single copy.
Sighing, he braced himself to reach back in.
"How about I give it a try?" Dudley offered, growing impatient.
"Sir, it's dangerous," the assistant started, looking up at Dudley, who towered over him by half a head. He swallowed the rest of his warning.
"It's fine. I've 'handled' these before," Dudley said with a shrug.
The assistant hesitated, worried Dudley might get hurt. Truth be told, though, he was done with getting bitten by a pack of books. Nobody signed up for that.
Reluctantly, he agreed and offered Dudley his gloves. "Be careful. Even with these, a bite hurts like the dickens."
"Don't need 'em," Dudley replied, ignoring the gloves and plunging his hand straight into the cage.
If they can break through my defenses, I'll eat my hat.
Having tangled with The Monster Book of Monsters before, Dudley wasn't fazed.
"Wait, that's dangerous!" the assistant cried, but it was too late.
I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this, he thought, covering his eyes, dreading the sight of Dudley's hand being mauled by a swarm of books.
If they ask me to pay for damages, I'll say he reached in while I wasn't looking. I tried to stop him, but I couldn't.
The assistant was already rehearsing his excuse when Dudley's arm plunged into the cage. Like flies to dung—or, er, like starving travelers spotting food—the books swarmed, each one sinking its teeth into Dudley's arm.
But Dudley? He didn't even flinch. With a casual shake, he sent the biting books flying. Then he reached in, grabbed one, and pulled it out like it was nothing.
The books, now thoroughly humiliated, crowded the cage's entrance, their tiny cover-eyes glaring at Dudley. They let out indignant squeals, clearly offended by their failure to do any damage.
Dudley ignored them, inspecting the book in his hand. This one was for Hermione.
I think Mrs. Figg said something about grabbing the spine and giving it a gentle pinch?
With that in mind, Dudley positioned two fingers on the book's spine.
Not too light, though—don't want it snapping at Hermione.
He applied just a tad more pressure—a billionth of a tad, really—and pinched.
Crack. A faint sound rang out. The Monster Book, which had been squirming in his hand, went rigid as if electrocuted. Its ribbon-like tongue lolled out, its eyes rolled back, and it lay still, knocked out cold.
The other books in the cage fell silent, staring at Dudley's hand in collective horror, as if they'd just witnessed a murder.
Looks like it worked. Easy enough, Dudley thought, satisfied. He handed the now-docile book to Hermione, who took it cautiously. It seemed tame enough.
They needed five in total.
Dudley turned back to the cage. The books inside shrank back in unison, trembling like they'd just seen their natural predator. When he reached in again, not a single one dared to bite.
He grabbed four more without a hitch. These books stayed eerily well-behaved, barely twitching even when he tied them up with rope.
The shop assistant was baffled. Why do they act like that for him but go berserk when I try?
Besides the Monster Books, Dudley and the others picked up Unfogging the Future and Ancient Runes Made Easy for their Divination and Ancient Runes classes—electives starting in third year.
As they left, the books in the cage let out a collective sigh of relief before resuming their usual chaos. The assistant stared at the noisy cage, dumbfounded.
What, do these things pick on the weak and cower from the strong?
Aside from the Monster Book fiasco, the rest of their shopping went smoothly.
Dudley only paused once, outside a pet shop. His and Harry's birthdays had passed during the holidays, but Hermione's was coming up soon after term started. For his birthday, Hermione had given him a set of robes with Undetectable Extension Charms on every pocket—a spell she'd mastered. For a wizard like Dudley, who liked to be prepared for anything, it was perfect.
By the way, aside from Hogwarts-mandated robes, underwear, and shoes, pretty much everything Dudley wore was handcrafted by Hermione.
"Mr. Jellal, any luck finding that pet I asked for?" Dudley called out as he pushed open the door to Beast Tamer, a pet shop, addressing a young man with flat bangs and squinting eyes.