The book was a monstrosity. It had a square, furry cover, with four round, glinting yellow eyes and a row of jagged, toothy gums. It looked less like a book and more like some sort of magical beast.
Still, Dudley recognized it right away. Engraved on its body in large, prominent gold letters were the words 'The Monster Book of Monsters.'
He knew, of course, that Harry Potter was steeped in magic, and he longed for that magical world himself. But this was his first real, up-close encounter with something truly magical since arriving here. If you didn't count that time he accidentally turned himself into a worm or something equally odd, this was his first proper glimpse.
As Dudley stood there, completely flummoxed, the monstrous book seemed to notice him. It immediately gave up its chase of the cats and turned its sharp-toothed grin toward him, scuttling forward at an alarming speed.
Seeing this, Snowball's fur puffed out, making her look twice her size. She hissed and let out a series of high-pitched shrieks at the book, warning it to back off.
Unfortunately, her brave efforts were completely useless. The monstrous book ignored her and continued its charge straight toward Dudley. Snowball was terrified, but she stood her ground, her claws extending from her paws, ready to fight to the last against the foul beast.
"Hey, what am I supposed to do with this thing? Cast a spell? But I don't know any!"
Dudley frantically searched for a solution. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the cats, Kiki, lying motionless on the floor. Was she hurt? Or worse? Whatever had happened, it was definitely this creature's fault.
Dudley had always been fond of cats, but after spending so much time with these four, his affection for them had grown immensely. Fury swelled in his chest.
"I suppose I'll have to do this my way." He rolled up his sleeves.
As the creature drew closer, Dudley stepped forward and swung his fist, striking the book with blinding speed and pinpoint accuracy.
There was a heavy thud, like a stonemason's hammer hitting the ground, and the entire room seemed to tremble. And just like that, the world was quiet again. It was the same sort of blow that had once knocked out the self-proclaimed boxing champion of all England.
Dudley slowly pulled his fist away. The book lay motionless, limp and defeated.
"Let's see you get aggressive now," Dudley said, picking the book up by its spine and shaking it. The creature now lay still in his grasp, and from its mouth, two ribbon-like tongues flopped out.
Wait... were those really tongues?
Did I just punch it to death? Dudley wondered, seeing the book's total lack of movement. 'I only used a third of my strength!'
What am I supposed to do if I broke this thing? How will I even pay for a magical creature-book?
Just as Dudley was caught up in his thoughts, a startled cry came from the door.
"Oh, my Merlin! What in the world happened here?"
Mrs. Figg ran into the room, a grocery basket still clutched in her hand. Her face paled as she took in the mess, looking as if a burglar had gone through the place. She turned to Dudley, her voice a mix of confusion and suspicion.
"Little Dudley, what happened here?"
Mrs. Figg was being surprisingly calm, all things considered. Imagine trusting your neighbor's child with a key to your house, only to find them in a locked room, with everything turned upside down. Most people would have gone completely mental.
"Mrs. Figg, I thought a burglar had gotten in," Dudley said, holding up the book. "This thing... it got Kiki!"
Mrs. Figg pointed at a cat that just happened to be walking by. "But Kiki is right there, perfectly fine."
As she had first seen the Monster Book of Monsters in Dudley's hands, Mrs. Figg's eyes had widened, and her heart had skipped a beat.
Blast it all, Kiki was just playing dead!
Dudley was at a loss for words, struggling to explain himself. Then, Snowball trotted over to Mrs. Figg's feet.
"Meow-meow-meow! Mrow-mrow-mrow! Meow-meow!"
Dudley had never heard such a complex range of meows. He hadn't known cats could make so many different sounds. An amazing thing then happened.
"Oh, I see, Snowball," Mrs. Figg said, nodding along as if she understood every word.
She turned back to Dudley, her face full of apology. "I'm so sorry, dear. I misjudged you. Thank you so much for helping them."
Dudley wasn't bothered by the apology. He was fixated on something far more important:
Mrs. Figg... she can understand Snowball?
She speaks Cat?
Could Mrs. Figg be a witch?
Dudley's eyes lit up. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his wildly excited heart. A million questions raced through his mind. He adopted a hesitant, yet curious expression.
"Mrs. Figg... are you like Harry?"
"My parents always call him a monster boy, and sometimes he does things that normal people can't."
"I... I've heard them whisper about it, about... magic."
Dudley's words caught Mrs. Figg off guard, but she quickly came to her senses. Of course, a child growing up with a natural wizard would have seen things they couldn't explain. Every young wizard experiences magical outbursts. And Dudley was a very clever boy.
Mrs. Figg thought for a moment before speaking. "You are very smart, my dear."
"Is it real? Is there really magic?"
"Can you teach me? I... I want to learn magic, too." Dudley's expression was that of a child who had just discovered magic was real, filled with an insatiable hunger for knowledge and the unknown.
"I'm sorry, child, but I can't," Mrs. Figg said, shaking her head regretfully. "I suppose there's no harm in telling you. You're going to find out eventually anyway, since you're his... brother."
Mrs. Figg took a deep breath, her face serious. "I am like Harry, yet I am not."
For the first time, someone was telling Dudley about the magical world. As Mrs. Figg spoke, the information that had been hidden from him began to reveal a world that made his heart soar.
In the world of Harry Potter, people are generally divided into three types: wizards, Muggles, and Squibs.
Wizards are the spellcasters, like the famous Harry Potter.
Muggles are those without a shred of magic, like the original Dudley Dursley.
And then there are Squibs. They are born into magical families but can't perform magic themselves. Mrs. Figg was a Squib—a different kind of person than either a wizard or a Muggle. They can't cast spells, but they have special abilities that normal Muggles don't. Mrs. Figg's ability to talk to cats was one of these, an ability even some wizards didn't possess.