"Money, power, strength, or even women—whatever you want, I can give it to you."
Voldemort was painting a rosy picture of the future for Dudley, trying to lure him in.
It all boiled down to one thing: empty promises.
He was trying to con Dudley into joining him. If Dudley took the bait, he'd be stuck on Voldemort's sinking ship.
Voldemort wasn't stupid—he knew the basics of being a dark lord, after all.
"As a Slytherin, you probably know who I am. And you should know what I'm capable of."
Seeing Dudley hesitate, Audrina (Voldemort in disguise) grew impatient. "So, what's your answer? Tell me."
From Voldemort's words, Dudley was sure of one thing: the memories of Horcruxes didn't connect. Otherwise, Voldemort would know Dudley had already killed him—not just once, but multiple times.
Forget recruitment—if Voldemort knew, he'd probably greet Dudley with an Avada Kedavra the moment they met.
Of course, there was always the chance he was saying this on purpose.
"My dear prefect," Dudley said, "I think it's a bit early for you to be pitching this to me."
"I'm only twelve. I haven't even started thinking about my future yet."
It was a flimsy excuse, and believing it would be ridiculous—especially for someone like Voldemort.
"Are you taking me for a fool?" Audrina (Voldemort) glared at Dudley, clearly annoyed.
"Alright, alright, since you want the truth…" Dudley shrugged. "I, Dudley Dursley, love nothing more than saying 'no' to people who think they're all that."
"So, you're refusing me." Audrina's face darkened instantly. "Very well. Very well."
Just when Dudley thought he was about to attack, Voldemort spoke again. "Actually, I'm more interested in meeting someone else—your brother, Harry Potter. I want to know why I failed. Why I lost to a clueless infant."
"From what I've seen lately, he's just a slightly clever little wizard. I'm so powerful, and he's… nothing."
"Do you know why?"
Trying to fish for information from me first?
Or maybe it was for something else.
Dudley paused, turning his back to Audrina (Voldemort). He subtly flicked open the red-and-white Poké Ball at his waist. A blue-skinned house-elf slipped out silently, made a goofy face, and vanished with a cackle.
If only I could make a phone call, this would be so much easier, Dudley thought, a spark of realization hitting him. That ten-pull gacha had given him something like that, hadn't it?
"Could it be that he's secretly a dark wizard?" Dudley mused.
"Or maybe your magic's just faulty?"
Two "could it be" questions in a row left Audrina's face darker than the bottom of a cauldron.
Was this kid trying to play him for a fool?
"Or maybe… it's fate. A prophecy."
That last suggestion made Audrina (Voldemort) flinch.
Dudley had hit the nail on the head. From what he'd gathered, it was because of a prophecy that Voldemort went after Harry Potter. And because of that same prophecy, he'd died.
Died in the most baffling way.
"I'll kill him myself and shatter that prophecy!" Voldemort declared firmly.
"Oh, by the way, don't you want to know where the other Basilisk is?" Audrina (Voldemort) suddenly changed the subject, flashing Dudley a cruel smile.
"I reckon it's with that little girlfriend of yours right now."
"She'll see her reflection in those big, yellow eyes and die without a hint of pain. Hogwarts will lose a lot of people, and then it'll shut down for good."
Audrina (Voldemort) stared at Dudley, expecting panic or fear. But to his disappointment, Dudley's face was blank, completely unbothered.
"No one's going to die, prefect," Dudley said, glancing at a creepy statue nearby. "The Basilisk went through there, didn't it? Slithering through the pipes to every corner of Hogwarts."
"You know?" Audrina's smug grin froze. "How do you know?!"
"Maybe it betrayed you. Maybe it's on my side now."
"No, that's impossible! I'm the Heir of Slytherin! The Chamber is mine!"
"Maybe I'm an Heir too," Dudley cut in. "Don't forget, prefect, you're not the Heir anymore. You died. The moment you kicked the bucket, you lost that title."
"I can speak Parseltongue too."
"You're just a Muggle-born wizard, Dursley!" Audrina (Voldemort) shouted, starting to lose it. But deep down, he knew there was some truth to it.
"Slytherin blood is noble. You're nothing—"
"Dear Tom Riddle," Dudley interrupted, "don't forget, you're just a half-blood too."
That shut him up.
Dudley had seen right through him, exposing his true identity.
For a moment, Voldemort felt completely exposed.
"If you can be the Heir, why can't I?" Dudley's words stabbed like a dagger into Voldemort's deepest insecurity—his blood status.
Come on, let's see who's better at this mind game!
Dudley Dursley, king of verbal sparring.
Whoosh!
A dark green curse shot toward Dudley, but he dodged it with a quick roll.
"Careful, prefect. That's dangerous," Dudley said, feigning shock with an exaggerated tone. "What's that? Did you just lose it?"
His smug expression was practically begging for a punch.
In a battle of words, the first to attack is the one who's rattled.
Audrina (Voldemort) didn't respond this time. He fired another curse, but it missed.
So frustrating!
A barrage of spells came flying at Dudley, but he dodged them all with nimble footwork.
No matter how powerful a curse, it's useless if it doesn't hit.
Ugh, so annoying!
After observing Voldemort's casting, Dudley was certain of one thing: this guy was weaker than Quirrell had been in the Forbidden Forest last year. That had been Voldemort's main soul, even if it was damaged. This version, leeching off a young wizard's life force, was nowhere near as strong—in magic or skill.
"I get it now," Dudley said. "You lured me here because you're scared of the professors, aren't you?"
"You're afraid they'll beat you. Or worse, figure out who you really are."
"You're talking nonsense!" Audrina (Voldemort) finally snapped, his voice no longer the deep male tone but a shrill, feminine screech.
He was weak—pathetically weak. Even after draining a young wizard's life force, he was a shadow of his former self. He stood no chance against any professor, except maybe that fraud Lockhart.
Just as Dudley said, he should've run, left the Basilisk behind, and escaped. But his arrogance had blinded him.
He never imagined a mere student like Dudley would be this much trouble.
He'd thought he was overestimating Dudley, but it turned out he'd underestimated him.
And that mistake would be his downfall.
He never should've messed with Dudley Dursley.
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