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That was the real reason Dudley wanted to stay with Harry at Mrs. Figg's house.
Because there were many, many fluffy little creatures there.
In his previous life, Dudley had always loved animals. He had raised several at home. Unfortunately, in this life, Vernon was allergic to cat fur — otherwise, Dudley would have already filled the house with soft, furry companions.
"Dudley, I think you'd better put Snowy down… look, she's already trying to avoid you," Mrs. Figg said with an amused smile.
"Mrs. Figg, I've always treated Snowy very well. When she was a kitten, I was the one who fed her goat's milk," Dudley replied, rubbing his face against the cat's belly.
"If she still looks down on me, that's just heartless."
The contrast between Dudley's solid, powerful body and that gentle gesture perfectly matched the saying:
A tiger in the heart, smelling delicate roses.
In truth, the silver-coated cat Snowy, aside from the faintly disdainful look on her face, showed no real resistance at all. On the contrary, her throat vibrated with a steady purring sound.
Cats weren't like dogs. Especially when someone touched a sensitive area like the belly, it was usually interpreted as an attack. If Dudley didn't have a good relationship with Snowy, the result would certainly have been a sharp swipe — or a flurry of scratches.
"That's because you've been gone for too long," Mrs. Figg complained lightly.
"Snowy, Tippy, Mr. Paws, and Fluffy can barely recognize you anymore."
Snowy, Tippy, Mr. Paws, and Fluffy — four cats, all raised by Mrs. Figg.
From their conversation, it was clear that Dudley and Mrs. Figg had known each other for quite some time. Which made sense: Dudley adored cats, and she was the only person in the area who raised several of them.
At first, Mrs. Figg hadn't liked Dudley very much — or rather, she hadn't liked the Dursley family. That only changed after the first time Harry had been left in her care.
"School's been really demanding lately, Mrs. Figg," Dudley said.
"Besides regular classes, I have to win medals for the school and take part in exchange programs… it's exhausting. I barely have time to train."
He finally set Snowy down, but the cat didn't seem willing to leave, circling him and meowing nonstop.
Dudley reached into his pocket, pulled out several dried fish treats, and began feeding Snowy one by one.
"Hey, don't give her too many," Mrs. Figg warned, shaking her head with a smile.
"She won't eat properly later."
Then she looked at Dudley's sturdy physique with admiration.
"You're the strongest boy I've ever seen."
In her thoughts, she added:
Perhaps only one person is stronger than you.
As they spoke, the other cats in the house caught the scent of the dried fish. One by one, they peeked out from their rooms, gathering around Dudley's legs and rubbing against him.
Part of it was for the food.
The other part… was territorial marking.
Harry, meanwhile, stood quietly by the doorway like an invisible person, watching the two chat happily. Deep down, he envied how easily Dudley could interact with anyone.
"Oh, Harry," Mrs. Figg said suddenly, remembering him.
"I imagine you must be hungry."
"I'll make something for you to eat."
Mrs. Figg's cooking was excellent. Her grilled sausages, sauerkraut, and mashed potatoes were all specialties.
But that day, Dudley wasn't in the mood for those.
Aunt Petunia cooked similar dishes — just not quite as well.
Even the best food becomes boring if you eat it every day.
The problem was… the menu was far too limited.
"Mrs. Figg, let me handle it," Dudley said, tossing the remaining fish treats to the cats and standing up.
"Today, I'll show you a bit of my skill."
Her eyes widened in surprise.
"Little Dudley knows how to cook?"
From her perspective, considering the Dursleys' temperament, it was already impressive that Dudley had grown up so well-mannered. Knowing how to cook was even more unexpected.
"Of course he does!"
Harry unconsciously licked his lips as he remembered the last time he tasted Dudley's cooking.
"Big D is really good at it."
With Harry's confirmation, and still a little doubtful, Mrs. Figg allowed Dudley into the kitchen.
Tofu cut into cubes and blanched.
Hot oil, garlic, ginger, and onion sizzling until fragrant.
Minced meat browned and stirred until aromatic.
Under Chef Dudley's command, dishes quickly emerged:
Stir-fried pork, sweet-and-sour pork, mapo tofu, lion's head meatballs, and finally, a simple tomato and egg soup.
Four dishes and one soup were placed on the table, releasing an irresistible aroma.
One bite was all it took to completely win over Mrs. Figg and Harry.
"Delicious," Harry said, his mouth shiny with oil, unable to stop praising it.
Aunt Petunia's cooking was good, but her repertoire was painfully limited. Compared to Dudley's, the gap was obvious.
"They're just simple home-style dishes," Dudley said as he polished off another bowl of rice.
"If you like them, I can cook every day while we're here."
At the Dursley house, Petunia never allowed Dudley into the kitchen.
If he wanted to cook, it had to be when no one else was home.
Even after eating their fill, the cats were drawn by the aroma of the food. They jumped onto the table, curiously sniffing the dishes.
Unfortunately, they chose the mapo tofu first. The scent of chili and peppercorns was far from appealing to them — and they all jumped back down immediately.
"Hey, children, the kitchen is my territory," Mrs. Figg said.
"Your job now is to study properly."
Harry's expression began to fall — but then she blinked and changed her tone.
"But… once in a while is fine."
"Yay!"
Harry raised the soup ladle, grinning brightly.
The next few days passed peacefully. Dudley and Harry went to school, came home, and trained together on the lawn.
Until—
One particular day, because of a school activity, Harry came home late. Dudley returned alone and found that Mrs. Figg still hadn't come back.
"Meow! Meow!"
The moment he stepped inside, Snowy rushed toward him, meowing urgently.
"What is it, Snowy?" Dudley asked, confused.
He loved cats — but he didn't understand their language.
"Meow! Meow!"
Seeing that Dudley didn't understand, Snowy bit the hem of his pants and tugged hard. Then she ran to the other side of the hallway, stretching out a paw and scratching at the air, as if urging him to follow.
Dudley finally understood.
Snowy wanted him to go with her.
Mrs. Figg's cats were clearly smarter than normal. Dudley even began to suspect that they thought almost like humans.
At the end of the hallway was a tightly closed wooden door — locked.
Yet from inside the room came chaotic noises, as if someone were rummaging through everything.
Did a thief break in?
That was Dudley's first thought.
He clenched his fist.
Breaking into his place?
Then this person was about to have an unforgettable experience.
The vigilante Dudley was back.
A wooden door was no obstacle at all. With a light push, it swung open.
But the moment he stepped inside...
He didn't see a thief.
He saw a book.
More precisely...
A book that moved on its own.
A book with teeth.
And eyes.
At that very moment, it was chasing Mr. Paws and Fluffy around the room, throwing everything into complete chaos.
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