Chapter 42 – Bullying Dudley Dursley?
"Hey, Dursley, you big oaf."
"I told you I'd make you pay."
Before Dudley even had a chance to look for the culprit, the culprit himself couldn't resist jumping out. Draco Malfoy strolled out from the crowd, his face full of smugness he couldn't hide, speaking with that greasy tone he thought was perfectly controlled.
In truth, he had never said those words. On the train he hadn't even managed to spit out a threat before fleeing in disgrace.
Crabbe and Goyle were glued to Malfoy's sides, and behind them stood many other young wizards—first-years, second-years, even some third-years—forming a circle. Of course, not every Slytherin sided with Malfoy, but none would stand with Dudley either. They chose to coldly observe.
Malfoy was pleased. Surrounded by dozens of students while the other stood alone—he loved this feeling of leading a crowd.
If Dudley had landed in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff, it might have been harder. But in Slytherin? With the advantage of numbers and ground, how could he lose?
"I'm a generous person. If you're willing to be my follower, take a beating from us to let off some steam, and then help teach Potter a lesson, I might consider forgiving you." Malfoy lifted his chin arrogantly.
At the mention of Potter, several unseen gazes flashed toward Malfoy. They belonged to older Slytherins who hadn't returned with the prefect but still lingered in the common room.
Even with Dumbledore's explanations, many pure-blood families still insisted Harry was essentially a dark wizard—the one who had defeated the Dark Lord. Their children had inherited those views. Thus, Slytherin's attitude toward Harry was complicated.
If this had been Harry instead of Dudley, Slytherins wouldn't all side with Malfoy, but at least ninety percent would have stood aside to watch. Until it was clear how the Dark Lord had fallen, no one was eager to take sides.
So if Malfoy wanted to play the frontman, so much the better.
His so-called offer was meaningless. Being a "follower" was just an excuse. If Dudley refused, Malfoy could justify calling for a beating: "See? I gave him a chance." If Dudley agreed, the humiliation would be worse.
This was the cleverest plan Malfoy's little mind could produce.
Dudley folded his arms across his chest, his solid muscles reassuringly firm. "And if I don't?"
Malfoy glared, refusing to forget the humiliation of nearly wetting himself the first time they met. "Then we'll give you a night you'll never forget."
A wave of malicious laughter rippled through the young wizards.
"No, every day. We need someone to practice our spells on."
A mocking voice came from the crowd, full of spite.
Malfoy frowned but said nothing. Truthfully, he hadn't thought that far. He just wanted to teach Dudley a lesson, regain some lost face, and—ideally—make Dudley his follower so he could then humiliate Harry properly. Harry had dared ignore him and befriend a Weasley.
Dudley rubbed his smooth chin, a strange expression crossing his face as a single word sprang to mind.
"You're planning to bully me at school?"
Back in St. George's Primary, there had been a group like this, promising him a "lesson to remember." And what happened then?
Oh, right—they'd all ended up sprawled on the ground. That was when Dudley's reputation had first spread.
And now again?
"I just want to live peacefully with my classmates and spend my school years quietly."
In short: Dudley Dursley only wanted a calm life.
"Anyone who doesn't want to get hurt can leave now."
It was a warning.
But no one took it seriously.
"Look at him, talking nonsense."
The Slytherins laughed and mocked. "Does he think size makes him strong? We're wizards."
They not only dismissed Dudley but treated his words as nothing more than empty air. And then—
Whoosh!
A streak of eerie green light shot toward him, but Dudley, who had been watching closely, dodged it with ease.
It wasn't Malfoy, but it had indeed come from someone on his side.
"A sneak attack?"
The spot where the curse hit corroded into a hole of moderate size. Clearly, it was a nasty hex.
"I hate sneak attacks."
It reminded him of that pig's tail from before.
Dudley's face grew colder. His usually genial, round features twisted into something far more menacing, the muscles of his face taut and alive.
Such a small change in expression made several Slytherin students' hearts skip a beat. Malfoy, in particular, shivered involuntarily, recalling the "greeting" from their first meeting.
Dudley's gaze swept over the gathered Slytherins. No one dared meet his eyes for more than a second; every time their eyes crossed, they quickly looked away.
If Harry had been here, he surely would have exclaimed—Dudley was angry.
At the same time, the crisp chime of the system sounded in Dudley's ears.
"Four-House Task Series: Reform Slytherin. Turn Slytherin into a true Slytherin. Time limit: seven years. Reward: issued in stages."
Hearing this, Dudley tugged the tight muscles of his face into a smile. "You started this, and you struck first."
"I had hoped to get along as an ordinary wizard. Now it seems that won't work…"
In his mind, a three-dimensional map of the Slytherin common room appeared, built with his Data Eye. On it, he had already laid out several routes for attack and defense. This was why, from the beginning, he had warned: those who don't want to get hurt should leave.
First-years were harmless. Most couldn't even cast a spell yet—dealing with them was no different from dealing with primary schoolers back at St. George's.
Second-years had some knowledge and could use a few simple spells, but just recently advanced, they still only knew first-year work. With caution, they posed little threat.
The real problem lay with the third-years.
They had already accumulated enough spells to cause him harm. The key was to neutralize them before they had a chance to react—best by seizing their wands.
His body leaned forward, veins bulging along his feet. The next instant, like a leopard spotting prey, he leapt forward.
His first target was a third-year Slytherin clutching a wand.
The common room instantly dissolved into chaos.
(End of Chapter)
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