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"Dudley, are you sure this is okay?"
Hermione's cheeks were flushed, and she nervously glanced around, as if she expected someone to pop out from behind a suit of armor at any moment.
"I... I've never done this before."
She kept her head down, fidgeting with the hem of her robes.
"It's my first time too, but don't you worry," Dudley said, thumping his chest with a booming sound. "Trust me, I'm brilliant at this sort of thing."
"But what if we get caught?" Hermione looked conflicted, obviously struggling with the decision. After all, this was her first time doing something like this. "Maybe we should just forget it."
It was just as thrilling as skipping class.
"Relax, it'll be quick. I'll just pop in and be right out," Dudley reassured her, seeing her hesitation. "Hermione, you don't want to..."
"...go to bed with your stomach rumbling all night, do you?"
Grrr...
No sooner had he said it than a sound from her stomach perfectly punctuated his question. Hermione's face went an even deeper shade of red.
"Be right back. Wait for me," Dudley said before striding right into the Hogwarts kitchens, which are, as it happens, right next to the Hufflepuff common room.
The moment Dudley stepped inside, the clattering and banging from the kitchen instantly fell silent.
"What can Zip do for you, esteemed young wizard?" a respectful voice squeaked from below Dudley's knees.
Dudley bent down and saw a humanoid creature standing there, looking up at him with utter deference. It was a small, bony creature with oversized, tennis ball-like eyes and ears like a bat. Though it wasn't polite to think so, its nose was remarkably similar to Snape's.
If he had to compare it to anything he'd read about, it looked like a pale, underfed version of a goblin. It also bore a passing resemblance to Gollum from his novel series, The Lord of the Rings, though its ears were larger and its nose was pointier. Of course, it also looked a bit like the goblins at Gringotts, but they had razor-sharp teeth.
This was a house-elf, a fascinating creature. According to wizarding history, they are a servant race, bound to serve wizards for generations. It's worth noting that house-elves have powerful magic of their own; many adult wizards, especially those who aren't skilled in combat, are no match for them.
According to Hogwarts: A History, the Hogwarts kitchens are run entirely by house-elves.
"I'm a bit hungry. Can I use the kitchen?" Dudley asked, glancing around and finally settling his gaze on a large cauldron on the stove.
"You... you don't like our food?" the house-elf stammered, before starting to bash its head against the wall with a loud thump, thump. "Bad Zip, bad Zip... you make food that is not good enough for the little wizard."
"Stop!" Dudley said, cutting him off.
He knew house-elves had a unique way of thinking, but this was a bit much.
Five minutes later, Dudley emerged from the kitchen carrying a bucket of fried chicken and sauerkraut sausages.
"That's so much!" Hermione exclaimed, looking at the heap of food. "Did you rob the kitchens?"
"They were very hospitable in there," Dudley said, quickly changing the subject to avoid going into detail. "Come on, eat up while it's still hot. We need to get back soon."
It was nearly curfew at Hogwarts. If they were caught wandering around the castle at this hour by Filch, they'd be looking at a serious detention. Not that Filch had ever managed to catch Dudley on one of his nightly excursions.
In no time at all, the two of them had polished off the pile of food. Most of it, to be honest, had gone into Dudley's stomach.
After dropping Hermione off at the Gryffindor common room, Dudley didn't go straight back to his Slytherin quarters. Instead, he found an open window and climbed out onto the castle wall before scaling the nearest tower. He needed to get his nightly workout in after that meal.
Unlike his morning routine, this time his body, legs, and wrists were crackling with little golden sparks of electricity. This was his training with the Ripple technique.
The daytime was for pure physical conditioning, while the evening was dedicated to practicing the Ripple. Day after day, year after year, the routine never changed.
Meanwhile, Hermione had returned to the Gryffindor common room.
"Where in Merlin's beard have you been?"
Her arrival instantly drew the attention of many of her fellow Gryffindors. When she and Dudley had left, no one had really noticed. But this was Hermione, the little witch who loved to raise her hand and earn points for Gryffindor. The class she missed was unusually quiet without the constant cry of, "Ten points to Gryffindor!" and soon enough, someone realized she was gone.
"I can't believe it, Hermione. I heard you actually skipped class," said Cormac McLaggen, a Gryffindor a year ahead of her, his voice dripping with exaggerated disbelief.
"I don't believe we're on a first-name basis, McLaggen," Hermione said coldly, not giving him an inch.
"Right, Miss Know-It-All," he replied.
The nickname, at first glance, sounds like a compliment, but it's meant as a cutting insult. Hermione had a habit of not getting straight to the point. She'd explain everything she knew in great detail and then bluntly point out your mistakes. The nickname was a way of calling her a know-it-all and a chatterbox.
"I was just trying to give you a friendly warning. Don't go down the wrong path. If I were you, I'd watch my step," he continued. "If you keep this up, no one in Gryffindor is going to like you. No one!"
His words weren't without reason. Hermione had been spending a lot of time with Dudley, often seen with him in the Hogwarts library. To the other students, a Gryffindor spending time with a Slytherin was simply unacceptable.
Gryffindors, impulsive and quick to judge, didn't care about the reasons. To them, a Gryffindor should stay away from Slytherins, and anyone who didn't was a traitor.
As for Harry? Well, that's different. Dudley's his cousin, and Harry's special. He's the Chosen One, Saint Potter himself.
Hypocrisy, it seems, is a favorite pastime for every carbon-based life form.
Of course, not all Gryffindors were against Hermione. Still, foolish, unpleasant, and self-righteous people exist everywhere, and Hogwarts was no exception.
Hermione didn't care. She was a strong-willed young witch who did what she wanted, regardless of whether it made her popular. It was one of the reasons she wasn't liked by many of her housemates, despite earning them so many points. They simply didn't care.
It started with small things, but lately, Hermione had been finding that things in her common room kept going missing for no reason. This very morning, for instance, she'd spent ages looking for one of her shoes. Luckily, she had a spare pair. But she had never told Dudley about any of this.
This kind of thing happens in schools everywhere, even at Hogwarts. Where there are people, there are rivalries and even bullying. In Hogwarts, most of the conflict is directed at other houses, like the famous rivalry between Snape and James's group. But it happens within the houses, too, just as it would with Luna Lovegood, who would arrive at Ravenclaw a year later.
As Cormac spoke, the Gryffindors around him chuckled in unison, their laughter a harsh, grating sound.
Only Neville Longbottom, sitting in the corner with his arm wrapped in a bandage, had his lips slightly trembling, as if he were trying to say something. In the end, though, he said nothing at all.
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I'm personally very much against bullying. The thoughtless actions you take could take a lifetime for someone else to heal from.