"Why are you always tinkering with those big snails lately?" Hermione asked, setting down her copy of A Thousand Uses for Charms in the library. Her curiosity was piqued as she glanced at the partially modified creature in Dudley's hands—a Den Den Mushi, or telephone snail.
This was the same one Dudley had been working on. After some time being cared for, the little creature was no longer afraid of him. When it heard Hermione's voice, its antennae sprouted a pair of large, curious eyes that stared right at her.
These creatures were remarkably resilient. As long as they didn't suffer a fatal injury, they could recover from almost anything.
"It's a project I'm working on," Dudley said. "If I can pull it off, it'll be a game-changer for the wizarding world."
He gave her a brief rundown. Creating a Den Den Mushi was far more complex than taming a magical creature. In the world of One Piece, these snails used bioelectric waves as a medium for communication. Each snail had its own unique frequency, but there was also a shared public channel for transmitting information. In other words, each snail acted as both an individual communicator and a relay station. Even if the public signal couldn't be decoded, it could still be passed along by the snail.
It wasn't something that could be perfected overnight.
"It looks kind of gross," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose at the snail.
No girl would be thrilled about a slimy, sticky creature like this, especially with those big, bulging eyes on its antennae. It was enough to make any young witch feel queasy.
"Huh? Is it… crying?" Hermione gasped.
After generations of breeding, Den Den Mushi could understand basic human speech. Sensing Hermione's distaste, the snail's large eyes welled up with tears, which began to drip down in big, pitiful drops.
"You said it was gross, so it's feeling pretty hurt," Dudley explained.
"It can understand us?" Hermione asked, amazed. Though she still found it a bit repulsive, her interest in the snail grew.
Magical creatures in the insect category existed, but most weren't particularly intelligent—comparable to wild animals at best. A creature like the Den Den Mushi, which could not only understand human speech but also feel emotions like sadness, was entirely new to her.
"Of course," Dudley said. "Who knows? One day, these little guys might replace owls as the go-to way for wizards to send messages."
"That's not funny," Hermione scoffed.
She didn't buy it. Sure, owl post wasn't as fast as a Muggle telephone, but the idea of a snail replacing owls? That was just absurd. The Den Den Mushi was beyond anything she could wrap her head around.
It was neither scientific nor magical.
The library was quiet on weekends, with hardly anyone around. Dudley and Hermione were alone in their corner, so their conversation didn't draw any attention.
Hermione went back to her book for a while but soon felt a stiffness in her neck. She tilted her head, trying to ease the discomfort.
Even with perfect posture, reading for long stretches could strain the neck.
Sitting right beside her, Dudley noticed. He tucked the Den Den Mushi away and made a suggestion.
"Let me give you a massage."
Hermione thought for a moment, glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby, and nodded. "Okay, but go easy this time."
Hermione often read with her head down, a bad habit Dudley had tried to correct multiple times. But when she got lost in a book, she'd forget, and her neck would pay the price. Dudley was usually the one to help her work out the kinks.
The neck was a critical area, connecting nerves and supporting the head. It needed proper care.
"Have you been using the buckwheat pillow I gave you?" Dudley asked, stepping behind her. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders.
Her soft frame felt almost boneless, like his hands might sink right in. The faint scent of her shampoo, mixed with her natural fragrance, wafted up, giving Dudley a small jolt of energy.
"I've been using it, and it's helped a lot," Hermione said. "But it still gets uncomfortable sometimes."
In his past life, Dudley had been a phone addict, always looking down. Combined with hunching over at work, his neck had suffered. At one point, severe cervical issues had left his left hand numb.
He couldn't sleep through the night.
He'd taken time off to see a doctor—an old traditional medicine practitioner—who treated him with a week of acupuncture (sixteen needles per session). It was surprisingly soothing, and the discomfort eased. The doctor explained that young people recover quickly with proper sleep posture and recommended a buckwheat pillow (specifically one filled with buckwheat hulls).
It wasn't about any medicinal properties like calming the mind or improving circulation—just pure ergonomics. A good buckwheat pillow adjusted to the body's shape, keeping the neck at an optimal angle for recovery.
Sure enough, after a week of using it, the numbness began to fade. Within a month, it was gone completely.
From then on, Dudley was a buckwheat pillow evangelist. He tossed out cotton, wicker, and latex pillows, sticking solely to buckwheat. Whenever he saw someone with neck issues, he'd recommend one without hesitation.
"You're reading for too long," Dudley said. "Try not to look down so much. Get up and move around every once in a while."
It was advice he followed himself. Regular movement helped protect the lower back too.
Hermione gave a playful pout. "Heh, that's why I've got you, right? You know I get sucked into my books."
She really did lose herself in reading, able to stay in one position for an entire day. By the time she noticed, her neck would feel like it was locked up.
As they talked, Dudley's hands began to work.
"Gentle, gentle—lighter! Yes, right there, it's so sore… oh, that feels good," Hermione murmured, her eyes fluttering shut like a cozy cat curling up.
After about half an hour, Hermione was practically melting onto the table, utterly content. She let out a soft hum. "Dudley, my eyes have been feeling dry lately too."
"You're staring at books too long," Dudley said, ruffling her wavy hair. "Let me teach you some eye exercises. You should do them every time you read for more than two hours."
"What kind of eye exercises?"
"They're called eye care exercises."
Even though Dudley was in a different world now, he still did these exercises whenever he read for too long. They genuinely helped protect his vision.
"Follow me—first section, massage the Tianying point."
"I'm too tired," Hermione whined. "You do it for me."
The library was empty except for the two of them, so she didn't mind.