'Gulp.'
Upon hearing that name, the three boys' throats constricted, and they all swallowed hard. That name was an absolute taboo, a forbidden word within St. George's School. A sudden chill ran down their spines, and they shivered in unison.
"Did I hear someone mentioning me?"
A very quiet voice spoke up, but to the four boys, it was as startling as a clap of thunder. A hand appeared around the corner of the wall, and a colossal shadow, seemingly exhaling white mist, gradually emerged, blocking out the sun above them. The three boys, who moments ago had been bullying Harry, found their throats suddenly dry.
How could they even begin to describe him? His forearm alone was thicker than their own legs. Judging by his sheer size, he seemed like a fully grown, powerful man, yet his youthful face betrayed that he was still a child. His intimidating physique, however, gave the distinct impression of facing a hulking brute.
To put it simply, he looked as if he'd stepped out of a completely different story. Just his presence, standing perfectly still, created a suffocating pressure. Harvey swallowed, though he didn't know the boy personally, his distinctive build was all the introduction he needed.
The boy offered a very 'friendly' smile. Yet, that simple smile was enough to send a shiver of terror deep into the three boys' hearts.
Dudley Dursley. A boy whose name alone was enough to quiet a crying child.
"What are you lot doing to my dear cousin?"
His gaze swept over the three of them, making them feel as though they were being hunted by a predator—and perhaps they were.
"Nothing... nothing at all, sir," they all stammered, even using a respectful term.
"Good," Dudley said, nodding with a grin. He flashed what he thought was a kind, gentlemanly smile, which only made the trio's hearts pound even harder.
He walked over to Harry, gently placing the black-framed glasses back on his face. When he saw the faint red fingerprints blooming on Harry's cheek, his expression darkened.
"Slap yourselves," Dudley said to the three boys, his face now devoid of any emotion. "And I mean it. I won't say it again."
The suffocating pressure returned, and the three of them felt as though their very hearts were being squeezed. They weren't just facing a person; they were facing a beast. At least, that's how Harvey and his friends saw it.
Smack, smack, smack!
The sharp sound of slapping rang out. No one dared to question Dudley Dursley. No one could ever haggle with him. Whatever he demanded, it was best to simply do as he said. After a few blows, their faces were already swollen. They were hitting themselves hard; they didn't dare to feign it or stop.
Only when their faces had swelled up like ripe tomatoes did Dudley turn to Harry and ask, "Happy, Harry?"
"Yes! Very!" Harry nodded vigorously, like a frantic bird.
Dudley smiled in satisfaction, then gestured with his chin. "Alright, you can stop now."
Relieved, the three boys finally lowered their hands. When it wasn't necessary, Dudley preferred not to use violence. He firmly believed he was a laid-back sort of fellow. "Look," he'd often say, "they're the ones hitting themselves. It has nothing to do with me, Dudley Dursley."
He took the baguette from Harry, but as he was about to eat it, he noticed a tooth mark on the end and frowned again. "Who touched my lunch?"
That simple question was enough to make the three boys shiver uncontrollably, especially the short, plump one who looked like he was about to burst into tears. Just guess why Dudley was sometimes called "the Protector."
It was Jim who finally mustered the courage to speak. "Please, sir, let me explain. There was a misunderstanding."
"I don't care about misunderstandings," Dudley said, flashing his pearly white teeth. "I just want to know when you'll be paying back the four pounds you owe my cousin."
He seemed to know nothing, yet he understood everything. These boys had simply intended to 'borrow' some money from Harry, a common enough occurrence at St. George's. Delinquents and bullies existed in every school. Just as he said, he "didn't like trouble." If they wanted to 'borrow,' then he'd just 'lend' it to them. Giving was his business; repaying was theirs. Harry's glasses needed replacing, after all.
The strange demand stunned the three boys, but Jim was the quickest to react. "We'll have it for you in a week, sir."
Just give it to him! Even if we have to steal it, we'll get it somehow. It was better to lose money than to get hurt.
"Three days," Dudley said, disdainfully ripping off the part of the baguette someone's mouth had touched. "And compensation for my bread... plus..." Dudley carefully examined Harry's cheek again. "A pound and fifteen pence for each slap, so that's a total of nine pounds and fifteen pence. Thank you."
Nine pounds and fifteen pence divided among the three of them was about three pounds and five pence each. For poor schoolboys, this was a small fortune.
The short, plump boy was about to say something, but he saw Dudley, his face dark, biting down on his baguette with a loud crunching sound, as if he were eating something hard and crispy. In that moment, the boy thought of his own fingers and imagined a gruesome, bloody scene, and the words died in his throat.
As for the three of them ganging up on him? Don't be ridiculous. Just look at the mountain of solid, rippling muscle that was Dudley. Could three rabbits ever take down a brown bear?
It wasn't that no one had ever tried to teach Dudley a lesson. Some had even called on older boys from a nearby high school. The result? They all ended up in the hospital. Dudley, on the other hand, was completely unharmed and even received a commendation from the school for 'courageous acts.'
Hogwash!
Seeing Dudley's broad, powerful arms and sturdy build, the three boys once again swallowed hard. You can't fight city hall.
They'd heard Dudley won the Southeast Regional Junior Heavyweight Boxing Championship back when he was in the third grade. What did that mean? This competition was usually for high schoolers, but Dudley not only competed but won the whole thing. The three of them together wouldn't be able to handle a single punch from him.
As Dudley devoured the baguette, he quickly finished it, then handed the part he'd ripped off to the short, plump boy. "Don't waste food. Eat this."
The plump boy dared not refuse. Tears in his eyes, he took it and put it in his mouth. He bit down, heard a crack, and a tooth fell out. Crying and with a mouth full of blood, his pig-like, swollen face looked utterly miserable.
He's eating a rock, isn't he? It must be a rock, Jim and Harvey thought to themselves, gaining a new appreciation for the depths of Dudley's terror.
Dudley then paused, his furrowed brow relaxing, a somewhat goofy smile spreading across his face. However, to the trio, that smile was anything but innocent; it was the grin of a demon.
What now? they silently panicked. I really don't have any more pounds to give him! Not a single coin!
I'm so sorry, Mum, I'll never do it again. They didn't even dare to question him, simply praying in their hearts.
Dudley, of course, wasn't so bored as to continue extorting a few poor schoolboys. He had heard a pleasant little chime in his mind.
"Mission complete: Saved the young Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Reward: one physical attribute lottery draw."