A calm, warm voice filled the room as Albus Dumbledore, dressed in a flowing snow-white robe, appeared in the Headmaster's office without warning.
Forgive Dudley for his momentary confusion—he nearly mistook him for someone else.
It was so close, but not quite the same person.
Fawkes, hearing Dumbledore talking about him, poked his head up and let out an indignant squawk before returning to his meal.
"Looks like I've returned at just the right moment," Dumbledore said, strolling over. "It seems you've already handled the problem."
Dudley eyed Dumbledore's white robe and remarked, "Professor, showing up this conveniently? I'm starting to think you planned this."
If he were casting for a Lord of the Rings film, old Dumbledore would be perfect for a cameo.
"Planned? Me? How could I possibly let one of my students face danger like that?" Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, his words utterly unconvincing.
Noticing Dudley's stare, Dumbledore sighed. "I did leave you with some capable help, you know."
Dudley nodded. "Fawkes was definitely a fantastic helper."
"Hey!" came an indignant interruption.
The Sorting Hat, perched on a cabinet, spoke up, its "brow" furrowed—if you could call those creases a brow. "I seem to recall another perfectly good helper you completely ignored."
Dumbledore had left Dudley with two tools: Fawkes and the Sword of Gryffindor hidden within the Sorting Hat. But Dudley hadn't brought the hat along, let alone used the sword.
The sword was flashy, sure, but Dudley had no idea how to wield it.
His skill set was missing one crucial thing: swordsmanship. He'd never trained in it, not even a little.
A sudden thought struck Dudley. Why does this feel like Dumbledore set me up to follow Harry's storyline?
"Such a shame," Dumbledore said, settling into a chair. "So, who was the culprit behind all this?"
"Tom Riddle and his pet Basilisk," Dudley replied.
"You figured it out?" Dumbledore asked, raising an eyebrow as Dudley mentioned Tom.
Dudley's finger traced the edge of the Headmaster's desk, and with a snap of his fingers, letters floated into the air, forming a name, then scrambling and reforming.
Tom Riddle — I am Voldemort.
"Impressive wandless magic," Dumbledore praised, assuming it was just one of Dudley's unique spellcasting tricks.
Then he looked at Dudley and asked, "Now that you know who he is, aren't you afraid?"
Dudley's eyebrow twitched upward. That tone sounded suspiciously like a test.
"He was at his peak when Harry defeated him. I already beat him once in my first year. What's there to fear from a shadow of him, clinging to life?"
Given Harry and Voldemort's connection, Dudley was destined to stand against him.
One wisp of soul destroyed, one Horcrux gone, another captured—Voldemort was at his weakest now.
Unless he found a way to be reborn, he wasn't much of a threat.
"You really belong in Gryffindor," Dumbledore said.
Courage was a Gryffindor staple, and Dudley was brimming with it (and muscles).
"Slytherin's not so bad either," Dudley said earnestly, meeting Dumbledore's gaze. "They're part of Hogwarts too—part of the family."
If they're on the wrong path, guide them back. And if they won't listen, a well-placed fist (the physical kind) can set them straight.
Slytherins valued ambition, lineage, cunning, and schemes—couldn't those be reshaped into honor, fairness, grace, and a touch of pride?
Letting them spiral unchecked was the worst choice.
If even Dumbledore, as Headmaster, gave up on them, who else would step up?
"You're right," Dumbledore said with a smile.
Dudley reminded him of that person, but not entirely.
"Professor Dumbledore, I need your help with something," Dudley said, pulling Ravenclaw's Diadem from his bag. "This is Tom's work. He seems to have a thing for Rowena's relics. Any way to separate them?"
Dudley really wanted to keep the Diadem intact.
No one ever complained about having too many magical artifacts, even if they were just for show.
"A Horcrux," Dumbledore said, his expression darkening as he noticed the faint black aura emanating from the Diadem.
Horcruxes were deeply evil. Creating one required a murder and splitting one's soul.
In theory, you could make as many as you wanted—as long as one Horcrux remained, you could return.
It was somewhat like a lich's phylactery, but not quite the same.
Dumbledore had long suspected Voldemort of making Horcruxes but lacked proof until seeing the Diadem.
After staring at it for a long moment, he sighed. "I'm afraid I can't help."
Voldemort's soul fragment was too tightly bound to the Diadem. Separating them without destroying the artifact was impossible.
Perhaps a master alchemist could manage it, but the greatest alchemist of the past few centuries—Nicolas Flamel—had passed away.
"Such a pity. Guess this treasure's got to be destroyed," Dudley said regretfully.
Without hesitation, he drew an alchemical circle, placed the Diadem inside, clapped his hands, and activated it.
A red glow flared.
Accompanied by Voldemort's familiar scream, the Diadem transformed into a Philosopher's Stone, a magic crystal, an emerald (part of the Diadem's material), some metal (more Diadem material), and a few miscellaneous bits.
"Now that's a handy ability," Dumbledore remarked.
Destroying a Horcrux wasn't easy, even for him. Most objects, even ordinary ones turned into Horcruxes, required special tools to destroy. Yet Dudley had done it with a casual gesture.
Dumbledore had tried replicating Dudley's alchemical circle before, but it did nothing. The patterns looked like mere doodles to him—organized, but still just doodles.
It seemed only Dudley could activate them, a unique ability.
Unique magical talents weren't unheard of among wizards. Animagi (rare, but not unique), Veela charm (from half-Veela heritage), Parseltongue (rare, but not unique)—Dudley's ability just happened to fall into the spellcasting category.
Perhaps the Dursley or Evans family had wizarding blood long ago, and Dudley had inherited some special lineage.
Dumbledore didn't dwell on it or dig deeper.
"Oh, one more thing, Professor," Dudley said, as if suddenly remembering. "There's a younger student in the Chamber, possessed by Tom. She's still down there."
"I think she could use some help."
Whether Dudley forgot to mention her on purpose or by accident was anyone's guess.