"Hey, Dursley, you big oaf."
"I told you I'd be seeing you."
Before Dudley could even look for his tormentor, the bloke himself couldn't help but jump out.
Malfoy sauntered out from the crowd, a smug look plastered all over his face, still with that greasy, self-satisfied swagger.
In truth, he hadn't said any of those things before. In fact, on the train, he'd barely managed to mutter a threat before fleeing like a coward.
Crabbe and Goyle were right by Malfoy's side, and they were joined by dozens of other young witches and wizards—first, second, and even third-years—who had formed a circle. Of course, not every Slytherin was on Malfoy's side, but they certainly weren't on Dudley's either. They were content to simply watch the show.
Malfoy was thrilled with the turnout. He had dozens of students backing him up, while the other guy was all alone. He loved being the leader of the pack.
It would have been a different story if Dudley had been sorted into Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. But no, he ended up in Slytherin.
The home-field advantage and sheer numbers were absolutely on Malfoy's side. He didn't see how he could possibly lose.
"I'm a very generous person," Malfoy said, jutting out his chin arrogantly. "If you're willing to be my lackey, let us beat you up to blow off some steam, and then help us teach that Potter a lesson, I might consider forgiving you."
When Malfoy mentioned Potter, several eyes that weren't from the common room darted over to him before quickly looking away. The older Slytherins hadn't gone back to the dorm with the prefect, but that didn't mean they weren't in the common room, and it certainly didn't mean they weren't paying attention.
Even with Dumbledore's explanation, many pure-blood wizards still believed that Harry was fundamentally a Dark wizard and that he had defeated the Dark Lord. This belief was passed down to their children, making Slytherins' attitude toward Harry very subtle. If Dudley were Harry, at least 90% of the Slytherins would have chosen to stand by and watch.
Until they figured out how Harry had taken down the Dark Lord, they weren't going to take sides lightly. Since Malfoy was willing to be the one to stick his neck out, it was even better.
Malfoy's offer was, in a word, rubbish. Being his lackey was just an excuse. If Dudley refused, Malfoy could rightfully call his friends to beat him up, saying, 'See, I gave him a chance.' If Dudley agreed, his fate would be even worse.
This was the best plan Malfoy's tiny brain could come up with.
Dudley folded his arms, his solid pectoral muscles a source of great comfort. "What if I don't?"
Malfoy stared intently at Dudley, never forgetting the humiliation of almost wetting himself when they first met. "Then we'll make this a night you'll never forget."
The younger wizards exchanged knowing glances and let out a few jeers.
"No, it's every night. We need someone to practice our spells on."
A malicious voice from the crowd egged them on.
Malfoy frowned slightly at the suggestion but didn't say anything. To be honest, he had never thought of that. He just wanted to teach Dudley a lesson and save face. He'd also love to make Dudley his lackey so he could humiliate Harry, who had ignored him to be friends with that Weasley.
Dudley stroked his smooth chin, and a strange word suddenly popped into his head. He looked at them with a weird expression.
"Are you trying to bully me?"
He remembered a group of kids at St. George's School who had surrounded him and threatened to give him a lesson he'd never forget. And what happened? Oh, he had beaten them all to a pulp. His reputation had spread from that day on.
And now it was happening again?
"I just want to get along with my classmates and have a peaceful school life," he said.
In short, Dudley Dursley just wanted a quiet life.
"Anyone who doesn't want to get hurt should leave," Dudley warned.
Unfortunately, his warning wasn't taken seriously.
"Look at him, talking nonsense," the Slytherin students scoffed, laughing. "No way, he thinks he's tough just because he's big? We're wizards."
They didn't just ignore Dudley; they took his words as a joke.
*Whoosh!*
A flash of glowing green light shot toward him, but Dudley, who had been watching them closely, easily dodged it.
It wasn't Malfoy, but it was a spell cast by someone on Malfoy's side.
"A sneak attack?"
The spot where the spell hit was corroded with a small hole. It was some kind of hex.
"I hate sneak attacks."
It reminded him of the pig's tail.
Dudley's face grew cold, and his once 'peaceful' round face began to look 'ferocious,' his facial muscles tensing up.
Just a simple change in expression made many of the Slytherin students feel uneasy, especially Malfoy, who was front and center. It made him remember their first greeting and sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.
Dudley's gaze swept over the Slytherins, and no one dared to meet his eyes for more than a second. It seemed that the moment their eyes met, they would look away.
If Harry were there, he would have gasped. Dudley was furious.
At the same time, a crisp tone from the system sounded in Dudley's ear.
"Four Houses Series Quest: Straighten out the House, make Slytherin a true Slytherin. Time limit: Seven years. Quest reward: Issued in stages."
Hearing the system's voice, Dudley's tense facial muscles twisted into a smile. "You guys started this, and you were the first to throw a punch."
"I originally wanted to get along with you all as an ordinary wizard, but it seems that won't be possible."
At that moment, a 3D image of the entire Slytherin common room appeared in Dudley's mind. He had created it using his Data Eyes, and he had also planned several offensive and defensive routes within the structure. That's why he had warned them at the beginning to leave if they didn't want to get hurt.
First-year students were completely harmless; most of them couldn't even cast a spell. Dealing with them was no different than dealing with the kids from St. George's.
Second-years had some knowledge and could use a few simple spells. However, having just become second-years, they would only know what they learned in their first year. With a little caution, they could be dealt with.
The only real trouble would be the third-years. Third-years had a decent number of spells in their arsenal, and those spells could certainly cause Dudley some harm. The best way to deal with them would be to disarm them before they could react.
He leaned forward, the veins in his legs bulging. The next second, he shot out like a predator spotting its prey.
His first target was a third-year Slytherin with his wand drawn.
The entire common room erupted into chaos.
Support me by leaving a comment, voting, and visiting myPatr-eon at ilham20