Over the next few weeks, Madison kept "accidentally" running into Dudley.
Like when she'd bump into him in the library or cross paths while he was heading back to his dorm after a late-night workout.
Each time, it was just a few words exchanged, a couple of lingering glances, maybe an "accidental" brush of shoulders. Madison was confident she'd left a deep impression on him.
Now, she'd pull back and disappear.
Let him come find her.
One day passed.
Madison wasn't worried at all.
Three days passed.
Madison stayed calm, fishing patiently.
A week went by.
Madison had to admit, Dudley's willpower was impressive to hold out this long.
A month passed, and still no sign of Dudley chasing after her.
Madison started to doubt herself.
If she'd used this strategy on any other young wizard at Hogwarts, no one would've resisted—not even Saint Potter himself.
But it had to be Dudley.
"How is this possible? Something's got to be wrong," she muttered, biting her lip as she replayed every moment in her head.
Everything was perfect. Every detail executed flawlessly.
So what was the issue? Had her charm failed her?
Madison glanced at her roommates, all fawning over her with adoring looks.
Her allure was stronger than a Veela's. It worked on young wizards and witches alike—she was irresistible to everyone.
So, it wasn't her.
Could it be… Dudley Dursley wasn't into girls?
Just then, Dudley walked by, shoulder to shoulder with Hermione. His gaze was fixed on her, soft and warm, like he was trying to melt her with his eyes. Not once did he glance at Madison.
'He does like girls!'
That was Madison's first thought, followed by a surge of inexplicable anger.
'What does Granger have that I don't? Those big buck teeth, that messy hair, and zero sense of style—she's practically a country bumpkin compared to me!'
'Lose to her? No way!'
Crack. Madison snapped the quill in her hand.
Veela strength spiked when they were emotional, and their tempers weren't exactly mild. Madison, inheriting her mother's beauty and charm, had also inherited those flaws.
She brushed off her roommates and stormed back to her dorm.
There, she rummaged under her bed, pulling out a gem-encrusted, shimmering crown. Engraved along its base was a famous motto: "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."
Ravenclaw's Diadem.
A relic of Hogwarts founder Rowena Ravenclaw.
Madison hesitated for a moment before gently placing the diadem on her head and closing her eyes.
"Diadem, oh Diadem, please tell me—how do I capture a wizard's heart?"
Her voice echoed in the dorm, and the diadem glowed faintly, as if responding to her.
---
October arrived, bringing a damp chill that seeped into the castle. A cold was suddenly going around among the students, keeping Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, busier than ever.
Luckily, a mere cold was nothing to wizards. A few potions later, and everyone was back to normal.
"Hey, Potter, if I were you, I wouldn't go to that ghost's deathday party," Malfoy said, twirling a gold-tipped walking stick—a birthday gift from Dudley.
Last year, Malfoy had given Dudley a similar cane, and this year, Dudley returned the favor.
This wasn't just any cane, though. Dudley had worked some serious magical modifications into it.
Malfoy clearly loved it.
"Remember who you are. We're alive," he added.
Harry had received an invitation to Nearly Headless Nick's 400th deathday party and wasn't sure whether to go. He'd asked his friends for advice, and Malfoy's comment about "knowing his place" annoyed him. "I don't think attending a ghost's deathday is embarrassing," Harry snapped.
Malfoy, seeing Harry wasn't getting it, just shrugged. "Whatever."
He turned to Ron, suggesting a thrilling game of Wizard Cards.
"Harry, Draco's not wrong this time," Dudley's voice came from behind them. "A living person at a ghost's deathday party? That's not gonna be fun."
"Why not?" Hermione asked, setting her book down and looking curious. "It could be a fascinating experience."
If Know-It-All Granger didn't have an answer, it could only mean one thing: it wasn't in a book.
"You're used to Hogwarts' ghosts, so you might think they're like regular people, but that's dead wrong," Dudley said, launching into an explanation. "Ghosts are from the other side. They don't like living things, and their senses—sight, sound, everything—are totally different from ours."
He continued, "Most importantly, what ghosts 'eat' is nothing like what we do."
"If you're up for standing in freezing cold, listening to music that sounds like someone sawing wood, and munching on maggot-infested pastries and stinking juice, then sure, go for it."
"I see," Hermione said, nodding and flipping her book back open. "I think I'll pass on that fascinating experience."
Harry, who wasn't great at saying no, still felt bad about turning down Nearly Headless Nick, even after Dudley's explanation.
He looked at Ron. "Mate, you wouldn't let me freeze and starve, would you?"
Ron shook his head so fast it could've been a Snitch. "No way."
Not just his heart but his whole body was screaming no.
If he hadn't known what the party was like, he might've gone with Harry. But now? Only a ghost would show up to that.
"I'd rather stay in the warm Great Hall with some proper food," Ron said.
Even Neville chimed in with the same sentiment.
"Harry, you should learn to say no," Dudley said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Remember the first word I ever learned?"
"Never?" Harry blurted out, knowing Dudley's history like the back of his hand.
"Exactly," Dudley nodded. "Saying no isn't always a bad thing, especially when it's something you can't do or really don't want to."
As he spoke, Dudley's gaze shifted to the other side of the corridor. "And looks like we've got some work to do."
Following his line of sight, the group spotted a young witch with silver eyes, dark golden-brown hair, and pale skin, walking barefoot through Hogwarts' halls.