"This is my first time teaching, so I'd love to hear your thoughts," Lupin said, standing at the front of the class after guiding the students through a lesson on Hinkypunks, will-o'-wisp-like creatures. "What could I do to improve the course?"
He'd only missed one class, returning for the second, but Dudley had covered for him more than once since Hogwarts had seven year groups to teach.
"Professor Lupin," Dudley spoke up, as expected, "I think we should learn something practical, beyond just handling dark creatures."
"Oh? And what does Professor Dursley suggest?" Lupin replied with a grin, sparking a wave of good-natured laughter from the class.
Dudley's impromptu "lesson" had become legendary among the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, who couldn't stop raving about it. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins who missed it were kicking themselves—some even said they'd have ditched their own classes to sneak in and watch.
"How about the Patronus Charm?" Dudley suggested, glancing out the window at the gloomy sky and the occasional tattered shape flitting by. "It'd give everyone a way to protect themselves against those things out there."
The mood in the room shifted. The laughter died down, and even Lupin's smile faded. Dementors weren't exactly bright—they'd behave for a bit after Dumbledore or Dudley put them in their place, but they were already starting to act up again. They just made sure to steer clear of Dudley or Dumbledore.
Dudley wasn't Hogwarts' babysitter. He couldn't always be there to shield the students. If they wanted to stay safe, they'd need to fend for themselves.
"What do you think, Professor?" Dudley pressed.
The Patronus Charm was advanced magic, not easy to master. But "hard" didn't mean "impossible"—not if someone taught it properly.
"Mr. Dursley, you could teach it yourself," Lupin suggested.
Dudley shook his head. His own Patronus wasn't even fully formed yet—he just overwhelmed everything with sheer power. No way was he going to mislead anyone. Besides, he wasn't a professor. Teaching wasn't his job, and he wasn't about to do it for free.
Seeing Dudley's firm refusal and the eager looks from the students, Lupin sighed. "Alright, then. Starting today, we'll spend part of each class learning the Patronus Charm, alongside dealing with dark creatures. It's not easy—many Aurors can't even cast it—so you'll need to focus."
He couldn't help but imagine a swarm of Dementors storming Hogwarts, only to find every student whipping out a Patronus. That'd be a sight.
Life at Hogwarts settled into a rhythm—long, sometimes tedious, but never dull. Dudley sent out a few invitations to select students and tested some applicants for the Discipline Committee. The group gained a few new members.
In Potions, Dudley didn't join the others in following Snape's lesson. Instead, he worked on his own project.
"First, fresh Atractylodes," he muttered, slicing the grayish-yellow rhizome of a plant topped with purplish-red flowers, then mashing its leaves and blooms. Atractylodes was known for boosting energy.
"Next, Schisandra." He tossed some dried black berries into the cauldron, adding the sliced Atractylodes and simmering it over low heat. Schisandra strengthened the body, nourished the kidneys, and restored vitality.
"Then, Ligustrum." He mixed a string of red-black berries into the mashed Atractylodes, adding a splash of clear water. Ligustrum was good for the liver, kidneys, and clearing heat from the eyes.
"Finally, unicorn horn powder and armadillo bile." These last two were magical creature parts, unlike the herbal ingredients. He carefully measured the golden powder and inky green bile, stirring them into the simmering cauldron bit by bit.
Soon, a rich medicinal scent wafted from the cauldron. Dudley sniffed and nodded, pleased.
Snape, passing by, frowned slightly. He didn't know what Dudley was brewing, but something about the process seemed off—a redundant step, perhaps. Still, he said nothing and moved on. He'd promised not to interfere unless Dudley asked for help.
The early steps had some logic, but then Dudley's approach took a turn for the bizarre.
"Fern root powder!" He dumped a pile of hard, dark, gritty powder into the cauldron.
"Houttuynia!" He added the pungent herb, a key ingredient from his earlier work on a minor magic-enhancing potion.
After simmering for seven or eight minutes, he pulled out a vibrant red substance. "Chili peppers."
"And… potatoes."
The cauldron's medicinal smell faded, replaced by a savory, almost appetizing aroma.
Gurgle.
Neville's stomach growled loudly, echoing in the quiet Potions classroom. His face turned beet red.
"Longbottom," Snape snapped, "if you're hungry, eat that pile of aconite in front of you. I guarantee you'll never feel hunger again."
He whirled on Dudley. "And you, Dursley—are you cooking dinner in my class?"
"Of course not, Professor," Dudley replied, eyes fixed on the cauldron, not even glancing up. "I'm researching a new potion."
Snape snorted, flung his robes dramatically, and stalked off. Even if he favored you, don't expect him to be all smiles—unless you looked exactly like Lily Potter.
Over time, the savory scent faded, giving way to the medicinal smell again. When the bell rang, the students filed out, but Dudley stayed, completely absorbed in his brewing. It was the last class of the day, so no worries about skipping anything.
Snape opened his mouth to say something but stopped, watching Dudley's intense focus. Silently, he placed the classroom key on Dudley's desk and closed the door gently as he left.
A while later, the door creaked open, and Hermione slipped in quietly. She didn't disturb Dudley, just set a plate of food on a nearby table, cast a Warming Charm on it, and sat beside him, propping her chin on her hands, watching him work.
Not long after, Harry poked his head in, leaving a cup of chilled pumpkin juice on the table before slipping out without a word.