Chapter 7 Mrs. Figg Next Door
"Mom, I think we can take care of ourselves." Dudley frowned as he looked at his parents.
Recently, Vernon's work had made great progress. Grunnings arranged for him to go on a business trip to Germany to negotiate a large order. If he succeeded, he would be promoted to sales manager. However, the trip would take some time—about three months.
By rights, only Vernon needed to travel, and Petunia could stay home to look after Big Dud and the others. But Vernon was inseparable from Petunia. If he did not see her at home every day, the next day he would become sluggish, lose his energy, and his work efficiency would plummet.
Thus, Petunia had to go with him. Fortunately, the expenses would be reimbursed by the company.
"Dear, you're still a child," Petunia said seriously.
Hearing this, Dudley rolled his eyes inwardly.
Have you ever seen a ten-year-old win a middle school boxing championship?
That was the title Dudley had recently taken. And unlike last year's junior level, this one was in the high school division.
'I'm ten years old, and so is Harry. In other worlds, at this age, we'd already be receiving our starter companions and traveling the world.'
Dudley muttered this to himself.
"I can cook and do laundry. I mean, we can take care of ourselves."
He argued with reason.
"Dudley, we're not leaving for a day or two—it's three whole months. I will never leave my child alone at home." Whether intentionally or not, Petunia once again chose to ignore Harry.
"And I will not let you stay alone with that freak," Vernon added, the word "freak" naturally aimed at Harry. He said it in front of Petunia: "Who knows if that freak will turn you into one like him."
'I wish I could become a wizard—that's what I dream of.'
"Then I will not go to Aunt Marge's, absolutely not!"
Dudley declared firmly, emphasizing the very first word he had ever learned to say when he was born: "No."
Marge Dursley was Vernon's sister and Dudley's aunt. It was through her help that the Dursleys had improved their living conditions. Dudley was grateful to her, but living with Aunt Marge for three months was absolutely impossible.
Not that Aunt Marge disliked Dudley. On the contrary, she was very fond of him, always pinching his chubby cheeks whenever they met.
It was simply that their lifestyles were too different.
Aunt Marge kept twelve bulldogs. That was not the main issue—the problem was that she loved and valued them more than people.
This meant that if you lived with her, you had to eat and sleep alongside twelve bulldogs, and you also had to endure the possibility of dog slobber in your food bowl at any time.
Dudley liked dogs well enough, but he did not like eating their slobber.
Seeing Dudley's firm attitude, Vernon and Petunia exchanged looks.
They too knew that leaving him with Marge would inevitably cause trouble.
'What if we bring Dudley to Germany?'
'But the expenses, and his schooling…'
The two exchanged thoughts with their eyes.
Seeing his parents' stance soften, Dudley quickly suggested, "I can stay with Harry at Mrs. Figg's next door until you come back."
Going to Germany was out of the question anyway. He would not understand the language, and it would not be fun. It was better to stay with Harry and continue taking advantage of things.
Mrs. Figg—full name Arabella Figg—was a kindly, energetic old lady who liked to wear knitted shawls. She lived two streets away from the Dursleys. Two streets, but it was no different from being next door.
Whenever Vernon and Petunia went away or took a holiday, they would entrust her to look after Harry.
Perhaps because she often cared for Harry free of charge, the Dursleys and Mrs. Figg had a decent relationship.
"Dudley, we are going away for three whole months, and during that time we will not be able to come back." Petunia tried to persuade him, but Dudley's stance was unshakable.
If he would not go to Mrs. Figg's and was not allowed to stay home alone, then the only option left was Aunt Marge's.
But how was Dudley supposed to eat there? As the guardian of food, Dudley would never compromise.
After much arguing, seeing that Dudley would not relent, Vernon and Petunia had no choice but to entrust Mrs. Figg with their care.
Harry had been saddened at the thought of being unable to live in his own little room for three months. But once he heard that he could stay with his cousin Dudley, his mood instantly brightened.
Noticing Harry's joy, Vernon strained to bend down his plump body, pointed at Harry, and warned, "I'm warning you, boy. Even if we're not here, don't think you can hurt Dudley or my family. If I ever find out, you know what the consequences will be."
As he spoke, he raised an arm thicker than Harry's waist in a show of threat.
Harry did not really understand, but still obediently nodded.
Perhaps Harry had already forgotten, but when he was very young, whether from a magical surge or some other stimulus, some strange phenomena had occurred. Back then, Dudley's body was not as strong as it was now, and he was injured a little.
Vernon might not have been a good uncle, but he was absolutely a good husband and a good father.
Mrs. Figg's house was furnished in a very old-fashioned style. The overall size was similar to the Dursleys', but the style was vastly different. The atmosphere was slightly dim, the furniture simple. Apart from the fireplace burning in the living room, there was only a worn sofa, a table, and a few chairs.
There were no electronic devices—not even a radio that most elderly people liked to use.
An antique. That was Vernon's evaluation of Mrs. Figg.
From time to time, the air was filled with a pungent smell of cats. Whether it was unpleasant depended on the person—at least Dudley did not mind it.
Vernon disliked the smell greatly, so he did not go inside. All the talking with Mrs. Figg was handled by Petunia.
Mrs. Figg readily agreed to look after Dudley and Harry.
Before leaving, Petunia slipped some money to her.
If it were just Harry, they could shamelessly entrust him to Mrs. Figg without payment, since he ate so little. But with Dudley included, it was different. His daily appetite was probably more than Mrs. Figg's in a whole week.
For three months, even the thick-skinned Dursleys could not take advantage like that.
Besides, the Dursleys still had a good reputation in this neighborhood—at least among ordinary families.
Once Petunia and Vernon left, Dudley quickly and skillfully began searching around Mrs. Figg's house. Suddenly his eyes lit up, and with surprising agility he scooped up a passing cat.
Burying his chubby face in the silver-white belly of the cat, Dudley inhaled deeply several times while the cat's eyes were filled with despair.
Then he let out a long, blissful sigh of pleasure.
"Ahhh~~~ Snowy smells so good."
Judging from his actions, it was clearly not the first time Dudley had done such a thing.
(End of this chapter)