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The sky was just beginning to lighten, as if a thin veil were slowly lifting, revealing the outline of the land.
A faint mist lingered in the air, like a delicate layer draped over everything.
The air felt fresh and damp.
A cool breeze drifted by, carrying a faint chill.
Despite his reluctance, Malfoy still arrived at the gates of Hogwarts right on time at seven.
Everything around him was quiet.
Only fallen leaves stirred in the wind, brushing against the ground.
Standing alone at the entrance, Malfoy hunched slightly, leaning against the gate.
In his heart, he was already cursing, convinced he had most likely been tricked.
It was Saturday.
And on top of that, early in the morning.
This was the perfect time to be lying comfortably in bed.
But deep down, Malfoy also felt a trace of relief.
Getting tricked was still better than actually training with that guy.
And having to shout those humiliating slogans.
If it weren't for the fact that he didn't have the courage to resist...
Even if he were beaten to death, he wouldn't say those things out loud.
This was perfect.
It wasn't that he, Draco Malfoy, hadn't shown up.
It was that the other person simply hadn't come.
Just as he was about to turn around and head back to the castle...
A faint sound came from behind him.
It was rhythmic.
Within the light morning mist outside the castle, a figure gradually emerged.
Wearing a training tank top, workout shorts, and holding a pair of dumbbells while exercising...
Dudley came into Malfoy's view.
"I thought you'd be late. Didn't expect you to be this punctual."
Dudley stopped in front of him and, for once, gave him a rare compliment.
"You..."
Malfoy looked at Dudley, not knowing what to say.
The guy in front of him had clearly already been training for quite a while.
Which meant he'd been here for quite a while already.
But it was only seven.
What time had he arrived?
Six?
"I've already been training for a while."
Dudley had arrived much earlier than Malfoy.
He set seven o'clock simply so Malfoy wouldn't interrupt him.
Besides his morning workout, he also trained before going to sleep.
Two sessions a day.
He had kept it up for years without missing a single day.
Training really could be addictive.
Especially watching your muscles grow little by little.
Feeling your strength steadily increase.
Dudley genuinely enjoyed that process.
"Let's start with something simple. Warm-up first... then we run."
Even as he spoke, Dudley kept marching in place, lifting his dumbbells.
His gaze swept over Malfoy.
"Next time, don't wear robes. You'll trip."
He led Malfoy to a patch of grass not far from the castle.
There, he taught him a few basic warm-up movements.
Warming up before training was essential.
It reduced the risk of injury, eased muscle soreness, and helped regulate body temperature.
At first, Draco completely dismissed the exercises.
They looked far too simple.
But when he tried them himself...
His arms wouldn't cooperate.
Neither would his legs.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't match Dudley's ease.
By the time he barely finished...
Malfoy felt like he was on the verge of collapse.
And that wasn't even the real training yet.
"First day, we'll take it easy."
"Just three laps around the castle."
When Dudley trained, he included the Black Lake.
That made the route much longer.
For Malfoy, finishing three laps was already impossible.
He probably couldn't even complete one.
"And you don't need to swim in the lake."
Dudley didn't just run around it, he also swam in it.
If Malfoy got in...
With that fragile body, he'd probably sink within seconds.
The morning water was freezing.
Even just running around the castle was already a huge challenge.
After the warm-up, Malfoy no longer dared underestimate the word "easy."
With heavy steps, he began his training.
He followed behind Dudley at a slow jog.
At first, he could still keep up.
And even thought it wasn't that big of a deal.
But in the end...
Malfoy was a pampered young master raised in comfort.
He had no habit of training.
In fact, he barely ran at all.
Very quickly, he realized he had overestimated himself.
Before he had even reached halfway through the first lap...
His stamina was already running out.
Gradually, he fell behind.
"I can't... I've reached my limit!"
Malfoy complained.
His heart was pounding wildly.
His breathing was uneven.
His legs burned with pain.
For someone like him, this was already impressive.
But Dudley wasn't his father.
He wasn't about to indulge him.
With an indifferent expression, he walked over.
He pulled a shiny object out of his shorts pocket.
And smacked the back of Malfoy's head with it.
"Run."
He said coldly.
"If you gave your word, then keep it."
"That's the bare minimum for a man."
"Ow!"
When Malfoy still didn't move...
He got smacked again.
Of course, Dudley controlled his strength.
Otherwise, it wouldn't have been just pain.
Guided by his Data Eye, he struck precise points that caused intense pain...
But left no marks.
No aftereffects.
No injuries.
No matter how you checked, nothing would show up...
It was just pain.
Malfoy didn't know any of that.
Seeing that Dudley was serious, he had no choice.
Forcing himself up despite the exhaustion, he resumed running.
If he slowed down...
He'd probably end up with his head full of bumps.
"Did you forget the slogans I gave you?"
"Say them."
Another strike.
Malfoy grimaced in pain.
At that point, shame no longer mattered.
He started shouting at the top of his lungs.
Fortunately, Hogwarts had excellent soundproofing.
If this had been a university dorm...
That shout would've woken everyone up.
Dudley glanced at the silver spoon in his hand.
That was what he had been using to hit Malfoy.
He still didn't quite understand what it was originally for...
But as a disciplinary tool...
It worked surprisingly well.
It didn't have any special properties.
It was just incredibly hard.
Even Dudley couldn't leave a mark on it.
Time passed little by little.
Soon, a few early-rising young wizards began stepping out of their dorms.
Some who were used to watching Dudley train leaned out of the windows as usual.
But this time, they noticed something different.
Dudley wasn't alone.
There was another figure running under the morning light.
And so, they witnessed a rather strange scene.
Malfoy was running ahead.
Dudley followed behind, holding a spoon.
Every time Malfoy slowed down...
He got tapped on the head.
And as he ran...
He seemed to be shouting something nonstop.
You couldn't hear it clearly...
But one thing was certain.
It wasn't a cry for help.
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