Harry Potter: Returning from Hogwarts Legacy

Petunia quickly dismissed the thought—after all, her sister and that greasy little bat had long since fallen out.

Still, every time she thought of that little bat, Petunia couldn’t help but grit her teeth in frustration.

Back then, at her most vulnerable moment, the last thing she wanted was for anyone to see her letters. Yet, it was that greasy little bat and her sister who had peeked, tearing her self-esteem to shreds without mercy.

Later, when she heard that her brother-in-law had once given the little bat a rather thorough lesson back at school, Petunia had secretly given him a thumbs-up—even though he was arrogant, conceited, and thought the world revolved around him.

“I’ve already tidied up the room upstairs for you.” Aunt Petunia cleared her throat, looking as though she was trying to maintain a serious demeanor. “When your letter arrived a few days ago—honestly, I never expected you’d send an owl instead of just calling.”

“Sorry, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said helplessly. “There’s no phone over there. It’s a bit… outdated.”

Upon hearing this, Uncle Vernon’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yes! Exactly!” Uncle Vernon boomed. “They’re a bunch of stubborn old fools! It’s good that you’ve realized that—very good indeed… at least all these years in the Dursley household haven’t been for nothing.”

Harry thought to himself, For nothing, my ass. But outwardly, he simply smiled at Uncle Vernon.

His mind was elsewhere—on Veratia and Cassandra. All he could think about was finding a way to pull them out of time itself. He had no energy to waste arguing with the Dursleys.

“Your birthday’s in a few days, isn’t it?” Uncle Vernon continued. “The 31st, if I’m not mistaken—at least, that’s what the letter said. We’ll have your aunt bake you a cake for lunch as a little celebration… but in the evening, I have an important business deal to handle.”

“What kind of business?” Harry took a sip of milk.

“If it goes through, it’ll be the biggest deal of my life.” Uncle Vernon’s beady eyes practically gleamed like a beetle’s. “My god, if we’re lucky, by this time on August 1st, we’ll be picking out a villa in Majorca!”

“So I hope you can—hmm, keep that owl of yours in check.” Uncle Vernon turned to Harry. “Try to keep it quiet. I’ll make sure you get a nice big room.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, doing his best to sound sincere.

“Now then.” Uncle Vernon turned to Dudley. “His job is to stay out of sight, but you, my dear Dudley—you’re different. You’re so likable, so adorable—I’m sure the Masons will absolutely love you.”

Love Dudley?

Harry glanced at his cousin, whose backside spilled over the edges of the chair, and silently prayed that the Masons were devout Anglicans.

After all, Anglicans might not mind a pig in a wig.

“Yeah, Cousin Dudley is definitely a real charmer, I’ll give you that,” Harry said, downing the last of his milk.

Uncle Vernon beamed in satisfaction.

“You’re much more likable than your father ever was, boy.”

Harry considered this for a moment.

Years of suffering in the Dursley household, getting tormented in Potions class by Snape…

Harry remained silent.

Sometimes, he wondered—if his dad had made fewer enemies, would his own life have been a little easier?

--

After breakfast, Harry noticed Dudley trying to leave with him, only to be stopped by Uncle Vernon.

Dudley looked utterly disappointed, forced to stay behind and rehearse—again and again—how to properly greet the Masons when they arrived.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that he was finally let go.

“My god, I’m suffocating,” Dudley plopped down on the doorstep, panting as he complained to Harry. “You have no idea—Dad’s been making me practice how to greet guests for a whole week… bloody hell.”

“This is why you’ve lost weight?” Harry’s lips curled into a sweetly sarcastic smile.

“I had no idea they actually taught sarcasm at wizard school.” Dudley slung an arm around his cousin’s scrawny shoulders. “God, if only you weren’t so mean to me back then…”

“And if I had been nicer to you, would you have bullied me any less?” Harry asked.

Dudley thought about it, then answered honestly, “No.”

“Well then, neither would I.” Harry was just as honest. “But I’m older now—I should probably start learning to be as fake as the adults.”

“So… you don’t like me?” Dudley looked at Harry with a pitiful expression.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say I dislike you,” Harry patted Dudley’s meaty shoulder—thicker than a ham hock. “You know, wizards don’t believe in much… except Merlin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dudley could tell Harry was up to something, but he had no proof.

“Nothing. But if you want to lose some weight, I can get you something for that.” Harry tugged at Dudley’s belly fat. “Look at this—it’s practically sagging.”

Dudley flinched from the ticklish sensation, laughing uncontrollably. “Dad says this is manly… ha…ha… and Mum still thinks I’m too thin.”

“What about the girls at school?” Harry delivered the final blow.

Dudley opened his mouth, then suddenly seemed to realize something.

“Well, I am good at boxing,” Dudley said, recovering quickly. “If anyone at school dares make fun of me, all it takes is one punch to shut them up.”

Harry imagined the scene for a moment…

Hmm. If Dudley ever met Draco, now that would be interesting.

Just picture it—Dudley goes to Hogwarts, Draco calls him a Mudblood…

Dudley might not get mad at first, but once he found out what the word meant, he’d definitely deck him.

Not gonna lie—that would be hilarious.

“Sometimes, you have to learn to think for yourself, Dudley.” Harry rested an elbow on Dudley’s thick shoulder. “Parents aren’t always right. You need to know how to judge right from wrong because… well, let’s just say, it might be a problem for you later. For now, it’s fine. But what if you can’t find a girlfriend?”

Harry said this while giving Dudley’s belly another squeeze.

“Then get me some of that weight-loss stuff, Harry,” Dudley said seriously. “I don’t want to end up single forever—that’d be tragic.”

Then, he suddenly remembered something even more important.

“But… where’s my present?”

Harry finally recalled how much Dudley loved gifts.

He once flipped an entire dinner table because he received two fewer presents than expected—scaring Harry so much he almost choked on his bacon.

“Your present’s upstairs. A bunch of sweets from the wizarding world—I got a little of everything for you.” Harry stood up and patted Dudley. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Really?” The moment food was mentioned, Dudley’s eyes lit up.

He followed Harry closely all the way to his room.

Harry pulled out his wallet, retrieved his trunk, and began taking out snacks for Dudley.

“Wow, Cauldron Cakes!” Dudley cheered, tearing into the package the moment he saw them.

He had to admit—they were delicious. The raspberry jam inside was perfectly sweet and tart, making his appetite soar.

Before he knew it, he’d devoured seven in a row.

“You eat way too fast,” Harry said helplessly, grabbing more snacks for him.

Neither of them noticed that Poppy had silently appeared behind them, moving like a ghost, watching quietly.

"And this too—you have to try it." Harry handed Dudley some Honeydukes candy. "Here, open this jar and take a look."

Dudley, unaware of the impending horror, took the jar and twisted off the lid...

"Oh my—!"

He let out a scream, nearly tossing the jar away.

Inside, a mass of cockroaches squirmed and wriggled, packed so tightly together that their antennae were already poking out of the jar.

Even with his relatively strong nerves, Dudley was nearly scared senseless by this utterly revolting sight.

Thankfully, he reacted quickly and slammed the lid back on in an instant.

"What is this?" Dudley asked, still shaken.

"Candy. A type of cockroach-shaped candy." Harry answered nonchalantly. "Don't be fooled by how it looks—it actually tastes really good. Supposedly, it has a creamy filling. You should give it a try—"

Before Harry could finish, Dudley shut his eyes, twisted the lid open again, grabbed one of the cockroach candies, and popped it into his mouth.

After a moment, his eyes lit up with delight.

"Ah, so sweet! It’s delicious!"

"I think you and my headmaster would really get along, honestly." Harry looked at Dudley as if he were a warrior. "He’s quite fond of this kind of candy, but most people at school think he’s completely mad."

"I don’t think so." Dudley held the jar in his hands, suddenly flashing an evil grin.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Harry asked warily.

"What do you think would happen if I took this candy to school?" Dudley said wickedly. "I could trick my classmates into thinking it’s a real cockroach and tell them that whoever dares to eat one is the bravest person in the school. Then, at the last moment, I’ll eat one myself and prove my courage. What do you think?"

"Unless you want to go down in history as 'Dudley the Cockroach Eater,' I’d advise against it." Harry said seriously.

Dudley thought about it for a moment. That was a fair point.

He nodded in agreement.

"I suggest you screw the lid on tightly," Harry added, offering a reasonable suggestion. "After all, you wouldn’t want a real cockroach sneaking in there."

"That’s a very reasonable suggestion," Dudley acknowledged.

He tightened the jar’s lid and set it aside before picking up another box. "What’s this?"

"Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum," Harry introduced. "It lets you blow bubbles the color of bluebells, and they’ll float around the room for days before bursting."

"Nice!" Dudley set the box aside. "Oh, what about this?"

"I’d advise you not to—"

Before Harry could finish his warning, Dudley had already taken a big bite out of the biscuit in his hand.

"Hagrid’s rock cakes," Harry sighed. "I forgot to take those out..."

"It’s actually not bad," Dudley said cheerfully, chewing away at the supposedly rock-hard biscuit as if it were nothing.

Harry glanced at the rock cake, then at his cousin, and thought to himself—maybe people's physiques really are different?

Just then, a white horse’s head suddenly appeared over Dudley’s shoulder.

"What are you eating? Give me a bite!"

Hearing the unfamiliar female voice, Dudley froze for a second.

He was absolutely certain—there were only two people in this room: him and Harry. No woman was present.

He turned his head and let out a horrified scream.

There, looking back at him, was Poppy’s head.

It wasn’t just that someone had suddenly appeared—it was the fact that this "someone" was clearly a horse.

A talking horse.

Good heavens, this was terrifying.

Fortunately, Harry had cast a Silencing Charm on the room before coming in, or else Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would have come running by now.

"Sweet Mother Mary!" Dudley shrieked in terror.

"Not Mary," Poppy corrected. "Poppy."

Dudley glanced at Poppy, then at Harry, still visibly shaken.

"Poppy?"

"Poppy is a unicorn, Dudley," Harry explained as simply as he could. "She’s my friend. You should feel honored—unicorns only greet those with the purest souls."

"His soul is quite pure," Poppy said, eyeing Dudley. Then, turning to Harry, she added, "It seems like the only thing that matters to him in life is food."

"I hate to admit it, Miss Unicorn," Dudley, still recovering from his shock, said with a nervous chuckle, "but you’re absolutely right."

"Alright, Dudley, don’t panic." Harry patted the bed and invited Poppy to sit down. Then he leaned against her casually and said, "Unicorns are sacred creatures. You should be happy to meet one, not scared."

"Really?" Dudley swallowed nervously and took another good look at Poppy.

He had to admit—she did look incredibly majestic. Even someone as straightforward as Dudley could sense her divine presence.

"Dudley! Dudley!"

Uncle Vernon’s voice called from outside.

"I should go now, Harry," Dudley sighed. "The Masons are coming over, and I still have to practice how to greet them."

Then, looking irritated, he grumbled, "Ugh, I really don’t know what’s up with Dad. Why does he have to keep making me do this over and over again?"

"Actually, you do have another option," Poppy suddenly said.

"What option?" Dudley’s eyes lit up.

He really didn’t want to go through the tiresome practice session again. If there was any way to get out of it, he’d be overjoyed.

"You could ask Harry to brew you some Felix Felicis," Poppy suggested, shaking her mane. "Liquid Luck will make anyone feel extraordinarily happy. Think about it—if the Masons come over and eat something infused with Felix Felicis, they'll be in such a good mood that your father’s business deal will go off without a hitch."

The more Poppy spoke, the brighter Dudley’s eyes became.

By the time she finished, he let out an excited cheer and dashed out of the room.

"I’m going to tell Dad right now!" he yelled as he ran off, not even looking back.

---

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