Fudge and his entourage took Dumbledore away, along with Hagrid, who'd been near the Forbidden Forest.
As they left, Lucius fixed Dudley with a long, hard stare. His lips twitched, but no harsh words came out.
After witnessing Slytherin's unwavering loyalty to Dudley and his ability to secure the signatures of the other eleven governors behind Lucius's back, he felt an eerie sense of facing that man—minus Dudley's imposing physique.
Maybe he understood Draco a little better now. But only a little.
Dumbledore's departure caused a slight stir, but Professor McGonagall, stepping in as acting Headmistress, quickly restored order.
"Don't worry about what just happened. Dumbledore will be back soon," she said firmly.
"I'm sure you're all hungry. Let's continue with dinner."
The Slytherins recovered fastest. To them, Dumbledore's absence barely mattered. They resumed eating at their long table with their usual elegance.
The Headmaster was gone, but the Discipline Committee was still here. Mr. Dursley was still here. So, no problem.
Oddly, Lockhart, usually the life of the party, was unusually subdued. It was as if someone had cast a Tongue-Tying Curse on him. He kept his head down, focusing on his food.
Dudley glanced at him but said nothing.
Draining his teacup in one gulp, Dudley leaned back in his chair, mulling over his next steps.
Audrina's disappearance wasn't entirely unexpected.
It'd be stranger if she were still around.
But Dudley was certain she was hiding somewhere in Hogwarts.
Because she hadn't gotten her revenge yet.
If you were Audrina, what would you do?
Or rather, if you were Voldemort's Horcrux, what would you do?
Hogwarts was far safer than most places, especially now that Dumbledore—the only person Voldemort truly feared—was gone.
It wouldn't be long before she showed herself.
"Stay here," Dudley said.
After dinner, he brought Hermione to his private Slytherin dormitory. It might not be the safest place in Hogwarts, but it was where he felt most secure.
"I'm not that weak," Hermione protested, frowning at Dudley's overprotectiveness. She'd rather do something useful than be coddled.
"Of course not, my little princess," Dudley said, ruffling her bushy curls. "Your skills are already on par with graduating seventh-years."
"But your opponent is a Basilisk. A thousand-year-old Basilisk. Even in its weakened state, it's not something to take lightly. One glance from its eyes, and even an adult wizard is done for."
The Basilisk's power lay in its instant-death stare. One look, and you're dead.
It took some convincing, but Dudley finally persuaded Hermione to stay in his room.
"Keep Firefinch with you," he added. "If that thing gets in here, its abilities can buy you some time."
Earlier, in the Forbidden Forest, Dudley had tamed three magical creatures: a Mandrake (Walking Grass), a Niffler, and a Fwooper. Firefinch was the name of the Fwooper, currently tucked into the red-and-white ball at Hermione's waist.
After giving Hermione his instructions and checking in with Harry and the others in Gryffindor, Dudley left Hogwarts.
The Forbidden Forest, even in broad daylight, was cloaked in gloom under its dense canopy. Deep within, one particular area felt straight out of a fairy tale villain's lair—eerie and foreboding.
As Dudley ventured deeper, the trees grew thicker, eventually blotting out the sky entirely.
He listened carefully. Beyond the snap of twigs and rustle of leaves, there was nothing. No other sounds.
That was unusual. The Forbidden Forest was home to more than just magical creatures—there should've been rabbits, insects, something.
But here, there was nothing.
Ahead lay an endless expanse of darkness.
Fortunately, Dudley's night vision was exceptional. Even without a Lumos spell, he could see the path clearly.
The trail narrowed, growing more treacherous. Twisted roots and stumps littered the ground, and thorny vines snagged at every step, threatening to draw blood.
A strange mist crept in from nowhere, chilling the air and making the forest feel even more sinister.
"I'm here," Dudley muttered, eyeing the withered, broken branches ahead, draped in dense white webs.
This was his destination.
A faint rustling filled the air—not from leaves, but from the scuttling of jointed legs.
Hiss!
A sharp sound pierced the silence, like a call to its kin.
No, not like. It was a call.
The rustling grew louder, more numerous. In the pitch-black, countless pairs of eyes glinted with eerie green light, all fixed on Dudley.
He pointed a finger skyward. A faint spark drifted from his fingertip, rising slowly before bursting into a brilliant glow, illuminating the surroundings.
The leaf-strewn ground was crawling with spiders, each the size of a cart horse. Eight eyes, eight legs, black and hairy, they were like living nightmares.
Acromantulas. Native to the rainforests of Southeast Asia, these 5X-class magical creatures were vicious, with venom that could kill effortlessly. Rare for their kind, they lived in colonies, were highly aggressive, and had a taste for human flesh.
Their eggs were Class A restricted trade items, incredibly rare in Europe, making their venom insanely valuable.
A single pint could fetch 100 Galleons.
The Acromantulas stared at Dudley hungrily, their mandibles clicking with hissing sounds.
Most people would've been paralyzed with fear, but Dudley didn't flinch. To him, this was just another day.
"Aragog!" he called.
The spiders seemed to respond, their massive pincers twitching.
Soon, an Acromantula the size of a small elephant emerged into Dudley's view.
The others hissed and chittered, as if passing some message to it.
"Human?" the giant spider rasped, its voice hoarse.
"Not Hagrid. A stranger."
This Acromantula, named Aragog, seemed blind but had a keen sense of smell, could speak human language, and possessed remarkable intelligence.
"Wait… I know that scent. I'll never forget it! It's you! You're the one who took my children!"
Dudley wasn't a stranger here. Last winter, he'd been a regular, harvesting Acromantula venom.
"Outsider, you've got some nerve!"
"You've walked right into our web."
Aragog's pincers clacked furiously, its voice dripping with rage. "Delicious, sweet human flesh… Don't mind if I do."
"Aragog," Dudley said calmly, "I'm here to negotiate."