"Finally done!"
Dudley's voice, brimming with excitement, echoed through the quiet Potions classroom, startling Hermione awake. She'd dozed off at some point, slumped against a nearby desk.
Rows of finished potions glowed faintly green under the dim, amber light of the classroom.
"Is it done?" Hermione sat up, stretching with a soft yawn, her eyes still half-closed, groggy from sleep.
"Yup," Dudley nodded, yawning in return as he rubbed his slightly dry eyes and rolled his shoulders. Yawns were contagious, after all.
Even with his stamina, staying up for days wouldn't faze him much, but a full day of intense focus had left him a bit drained. Overworking the mind was exhausting.
He had no intention of chugging an energy potion. A good night's sleep would do the trick better than anything.
Grrumble.
His stomach let out a thunderous growl as he relaxed.
"Pfft!" Hermione couldn't hold back a laugh, her clear, melodic giggle filling the room.
Under the warm glow of the lamps, she looked particularly adorable.
Dudley scratched his cheek, a touch embarrassed. "You could've gone back to rest, you know. You're usually out of the library and in the dorm by now."
"Reading alone is boring," Hermione replied, her subtext clear: I wanted to stay with you.
Noticing Dudley's gaze, her cheeks flushed slightly. She quickly grabbed a basket from the table and held it out to him. "Here, eat something. I brought your favorites—German smoked sausages, lamb chops, and roasted turkey legs."
Lifting the canvas cover, the basket revealed an array of delicious food, still faintly warm thanks to Hermione's preservation charm.
Perfect for eating.
Dudley washed his hands at the classroom sink, dried them, and grabbed a sausage, biting into it eagerly. It was one of his favorite foods at Hogwarts—finely ground pork and beef mixed with spices, bursting with rich, savory flavor. The golden, crispy exterior gave it a unique texture, and the juicy, spice-infused meat was a delight with every bite. Dipping it in mustard would've made it even better.
"Delicious," Dudley said, giving a rare compliment even with his picky taste.
He glanced at Hermione, who was watching him eat. "Want some?"
She shook her head lightly. "I've already eaten."
She had eaten, but only a little, avoiding meat. She'd noticed her weight creeping up and decided to cut back. Truthfully, she enjoyed watching Dudley eat more than eating herself—it was oddly satisfying.
Dudley nodded and dug into the rest of the basket. Honestly, he wasn't a fan of turkey legs. They were dry and tough, worse than chicken breast and not particularly flavorful. Their only redeeming quality was their size—eating one was like downing a dozen regular chicken legs.
In a flurry of ravenous bites, Dudley polished off the food and chugged a glass of pumpkin juice, letting out a satisfied burp.
Eating wasn't just about sustenance—it was pure enjoyment.
"Time to head back," he said.
Carefully packing away the potions, Dudley locked the classroom door with the key Snape had left on the table. Together, he and Hermione headed back into the castle.
It was past curfew, and getting caught by a patrolling professor would mean serious trouble. But Dudley wasn't worried—he never got caught.
Sure enough, within a few steps, Mrs. Norris appeared out of nowhere, trotting ahead to guide them. She'd done this before, her movements practiced and deliberate. With this little traitor leading the way, they didn't have to worry about professors or even Filch.
Soon, they reached the Gryffindor common room.
Dudley rewarded Mrs. Norris with a small dried fish, and she scampered off happily, treat in mouth.
"Get some rest. See you tomorrow," Dudley said, preparing to wake Sir Cadogan, who was dozing at the entrance. (The Fat Lady still refused to return after her attack.)
But before he could, the common room door creaked open, and Crookshanks, Hermione's orange cat, sauntered out, muttering—or rather, grumbling—under his breath.
Dudley pointed at the still-complaining Crookshanks and turned to Hermione. "Did you forget to feed him before you left?"
Hermione's eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh no, I forgot!"
Dudley gave her a look.
No wonder Crookshanks was so cranky. Anyone would be grumpy after going hungry all day. If your cat starts yowling at you nonstop, don't doubt it—they're definitely cursing you out.
"Here, take this. Next time, I swear I won't forget to feed you," Dudley said, pulling out another dried fish.
Crookshanks immediately quieted, his eyes locked on the treat. No cat could resist a dried fish—unless they weren't a real cat.
He snatched it, savoring every bite. Once finished, Crookshanks licked his paws, the picture of an elegant gentleman tidying up after a meal.
Suddenly, he twitched his nose, catching a scent. Following it, he padded over to Dudley and started meowing again.
"You want this?" Dudley asked, raising an eyebrow as he pulled a small crystal vial from his pocket. The liquid inside shimmered with a familiar green glow—the potion he'd just brewed.
Crookshanks nodded frantically, like Tom from Tom and Jerry, his eyes glued to the vial.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, scooping Crookshanks up. But the cat's gaze never wavered from the vial, his longing even stronger than it had been for the fish.
"My latest potion," Dudley said, swirling the vial, its contents gleaming enticingly. "Doesn't have a name yet."
He held up four fingers and lowered his voice. "Drink this, and for a short time, you'll gain the abilities of four animals."
Hermione tilted her head, puzzled.
"Take it, and you'll have the eyes of an eagle, the ears of a wolf, the speed of a leopard, and the strength of a bear."
ilham20