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"I can't use magic. And because of that, I can't teach magic to you."
Mrs. Figg set her grocery basket aside and sat down in front of Dudley, speaking with a trace of regret.
Dudley could clearly sense the frustration behind her words.
Being born into the magical world and yet being unable to learn magic… that went far beyond simple disappointment.
"Even if I could use magic, I still wouldn't be able to teach you. To learn magic, you have to study at Hogwarts. That's a rule of the magical world."
As she spoke, Mrs. Figg began tidying up the room that had been completely turned upside down.
One cat alone was enough to cause trouble.
Three cats plus a Monster Book… it had practically turned into a battlefield.
"Hogwarts?"
Dudley also started helping with the cleanup, all the while wondering whether he should tell Mrs. Figg about the Monster Book's current condition.
Would he have to pay for it?
What currency did wizards even use again? Some kind of gold coins, if he remembered correctly.
"That's right. It's the best magical school in the world," Mrs. Figg replied, instantly brightening at the mention of Hogwarts.
"Harry will definitely study there in the future."
There was a clear note of longing in her voice.
Hearing that, Dudley felt his own heart race.
Learning magic… he truly wanted to learn magic.
"Then… can I go to Hogwarts too?" he asked before he even realized it.
Mrs. Figg shook her head.
"I don't know, child."
She had expected the question. After all, what child wouldn't feel drawn to magic once discovering it existed?
Deep down, Mrs. Figg knew that Dudley's chances of going to Hogwarts were extremely slim.
Children of Muggles were almost always Muggles themselves.
The relatively large number of Muggle-born wizards existed only because the Muggle population was enormous.
It wasn't quite one in ten thousand… but it wasn't far off.
Picking a random Muggle child and having them turn out to be a wizard was almost as unlikely as winning the lottery.
As they chatted idly, the room was soon mostly cleaned up.
"All right, child. I'm going to start preparing dinner. Harry should be leaving school soon."
Just as Mrs. Figg was about to close the door, Dudley suddenly produced a black-covered book from somewhere.
"Mrs. Figg… may I read this book?"
On the cover, in large letters, were the words:
Magical Drafts and Potions
It was the first-year Potions textbook used at Hogwarts.
The author was Arsenius Jigger, a wizard renowned for his exceptional skill in potion-making.
As for why a Squib would own magical books…
She couldn't use magic, but couldn't she buy books to read?
What if her magical talent awakened one day?
There was no rule forbidding Squibs from purchasing magical books.
So… it was perfectly reasonable.
As for the Monster Book… that had been an accident.
"Please."
"I really want to learn magic."
Before Mrs. Figg could refuse, Dudley spoke quickly.
Those words came straight from his heart. He truly longed for magic.
As someone who lived on the boundary between the magical and non-magical worlds, Mrs. Figg understood Dudley's feelings perfectly.
Maybe it was the sincerity in his eyes.
Or maybe it was that sentence—I really want to learn magic.
Either way, it moved her.
In the end, she agreed to Dudley's request.
Denying a child's wish—and then telling them they were destined never to become a wizard—was simply too cruel.
Mrs. Figg was a good person.
And good people tended to soften.
According to the International Statute of Secrecy, Muggles were not supposed to have contact with magic—not even magical knowledge.
But Dudley was a special case.
His cousin was none other than Harry Potter.
His aunt was Lily Potter.
He was destined to learn about magic. Destined to come into contact with the magical world.
If Dudley had magical talent, studying Potions in advance wouldn't hurt at all.
And if he didn't… he wouldn't be able to cast spells anyway, so it wouldn't matter.
Besides, many potion ingredients didn't even exist in the Muggle world.
In truth, Dudley had planned to take that book for quite some time. While cleaning the room, his eyes had already been drawn to it.
Learning Potions didn't require magic.
Just as Professor Snape said in the very first lesson:
"In my class, you will not need to wave your wands foolishly, nor will you need to chant incantations."
In a sense, as long as one had the ingredients, even a Muggle could brew potions.
"Oh, Mrs. Figg… I kind of hit it. It seems a bit off now."
Dudley handed over the completely limp Monster Book, confessing honestly.
"Did it… die?"
If he had to pay, then so be it.
Mrs. Figg waved her hand dismissively.
"Don't worry. The Monster Book of Monsters is far tougher than you think. Even if an adult smashed it with a hammer, it wouldn't die. Look."
She grabbed the book by its spine and shook it.
The book Dudley thought he had killed with a single punch slowly opened its eyes.
"Dudley, actually, dealing with this book is very simple. Let me show you—just stroke the spine—hm?"
The expected violent reaction never came.
The Monster Book didn't struggle.
It didn't bite.
It simply stared blankly, its four eyes pointing in different directions, tongue lolling out as drool dripped steadily.
That was it.
He had punched the book stupid.
At the very least, a severe concussion.
Dudley felt the urge to cover his face in embarrassment.
Mrs. Figg was silent for a moment before calmly saying:
"Even if there's something wrong with it, it doesn't matter. I don't like this book very much anyway."
I'm just looking after it for someone else, after all.
She added silently.
From that day on, aside from attending school and keeping up his daily training, Dudley spent most of his time at Mrs. Figg's house, devouring Magical Drafts and Potions.
She had assumed it was nothing more than fleeting curiosity. After all, Potions was one of the dullest magical subjects—second only to History of Magic.
But to her surprise, Dudley simply couldn't put the book down.
Harry found it strange as well. Dudley had always studied hard, but never to the point of forgetting to eat.
And this was Dudley.
Skipping meals was serious business.
Harry once tried to see what Dudley was reading, but after glancing at page after page of dense text, he immediately gave up.
Studying on one's own was impossible.
As long as his grades stayed average, that was good enough.
He didn't even realize that the page he had opened explained the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood.
That would be on the test.
During that time, Dudley lived very happily at Mrs. Figg's house.
There were cats.
There were magical books.
And he could cook freely.
Life was wonderful.
Diving into the ocean of knowledge felt incredibly satisfying.
One month later, Dudley finally finished reading Magical Drafts and Potions from cover to cover.
Now, only practice remained.
But Mrs. Figg would never allow a child who wasn't even a wizard to handle something as dangerous as potion-making. As a Squib, she wouldn't be able to intervene if anything went wrong.
Thus, Dudley's potion studies came to an end.
Just as he was wondering whether he could find another magical book to read, the system's notification sound—absent for a long time—finally echoed once more.
"Learning mission completed: Finish reading the first magical book."
"Reward: Activation of Shinji Matou's Wizard Talent."
This system really had its flaws.
It never announced missions in advance.
It always showed up after everything was done—just to tell you there was a reward.
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