Harry Potter: Dudley From LOTM

"What a pity," Dudley thought to himself, a faint ripple of disappointment crossing his otherwise serene expression. He had resisted the urge to physically "persuade" Malfoy earlier. Hogwarts strictly forbade fighting, and Lucius Malfoy's influence ran deep. While he had escaped direct punishment last time, repeating such an incident would invite serious trouble, potentially hindering his ability to "act" as the Sheriff of Hogwarts. There was simply no need to court such complications, not for a simple bully.

Harry and Ron, however, were still seething. They exchanged heated words with Malfoy, though Dudley wisely stayed out of the verbal fray.

"Madam Hooch is here!" Hermione's sharp voice cut through their bickering, effectively silencing both sides.

Dudley looked up. A woman with short, silver hair and piercing yellow eyes like a hawk strode towards them. Her lean, athletic frame exuded capability and authority.

"Alright, what are you all waiting for?" she snapped, her voice like a whip-crack. "Everyone stand beside a broomstick. Quickly, now! I haven't got all day!"

The students scrambled, each claiming a broomstick and positioning themselves beside it. This was Dudley's first close encounter with a broomstick, and his interest was immediate. He briefly scanned the object in his hand, activating his spiritual vision. It's enchanted, he noted. And some of the materials within it possess a faint sentience. His broom, a gnarled, ancient piece of wood, looked particularly old and worn.

"Stretch out your right hand and place it above your broom," Madam Hooch instructed, her voice cutting through the nervous chatter. "Then, when I tell you, say 'Up!'"

"Up!" the students chorused, their voices a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

Whoosh!

Beside Dudley, Harry's broomstick immediately leaped into his outstretched hand, as if eager to obey.

Dudley's broom, however, merely rolled over lazily on the ground, a lump of uncooperative wood.

"See, I told you you had talent," Dudley remarked to a wide-eyed Harry.

"I didn't expect it to be so easy either!" Harry replied, surprised. He glanced around. Almost no one else had managed to get their broom to fly into their hand on the first try. Even Malfoy, who boasted daily of his flying prowess, had to make two or three attempts before his broom finally consented to obey. After his eventual success, Malfoy immediately looked at Harry, his initial smugness deflating at Harry's effortless success. But then, a mocking smile reappeared on his face as he noticed Dudley's still-inert broom.

Ron, after a few frustrated attempts, also managed to summon his broom. Hermione, however, was less fortunate. No matter how much she shouted "Up!", her broomstick simply rolled stubbornly on the spot, utterly ignoring her commands.

"Try again?" Harry suggested to Dudley, seeing his cousin's uncooperative broom.

"Up," Dudley commanded, his voice even.

Still, the broomstick remained stubbornly uncooperative. It rolled over one more time, then lay flat, as if giving up entirely.

"Hahahaha, what are a few classroom smarts?" Malfoy's voice drifted over, just loud enough for Dudley and Harry to hear. "When it comes to courses that truly require magical talent, those born of Muggles just can't compare to pure-blood wizards." The Slytherin students around him snickered.

"Talent, huh?" Dudley murmured, his gaze falling upon the recalcitrant broom. He wondered if the fault lay with him, or with the broom itself.

"It's okay, Dudley, just practice a bit more, you'll definitely get it," Harry comforted him.

"You're already doing well," Ron added, "some other students' broomsticks aren't moving at all."

Hermione glanced at Dudley, and a subtle breath of relief escaped her. She wasn't the only one struggling.

Ah, what was that saying from Roselle the Great? Dudley thought. 'Give an inch, take a mile!'

"Get up!" Dudley commanded, his voice cold and sharp, imbued with the majesty and authority of his Beyonder powers.

Whoosh!

The broomstick, as if shocked into submission, leaped into his hand, trembling slightly.

"Hmph," Dudley let out a soft, almost imperceptible snort. It really was a case of 'give an inch, take a mile'.

"You did it!" Harry and Ron cheered, genuinely happy for him.

Malfoy, seeing Dudley's success, visibly bristled. The sight immediately diminished his sense of superiority. He spat fiercely on the ground and turned away, ignoring Dudley.

Madam Hooch, meanwhile, moved among the students, patiently correcting their techniques, showing them how to make their broomsticks obey. Once everyone had successfully mounted their brooms, Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

"Everyone listen up!" she snapped. "Next time I blow the whistle, you will push off the ground with both feet and lift off! Remember, push off hard!" She demonstrated, pushing off the ground and hovering a few feet in the air before landing gracefully. "Also, grip the broom tightly, ascend a few feet, then lean slightly forward and drop vertically back to the ground. Listen for my whistle. Three—two—"

Before Madam Hooch could even finish her count, Neville, white-faced and trembling with nervousness, suddenly pushed off the ground with all his might. His broom shot straight up into the air.

"Oh, my goodness!" Madam Hooch shrieked. "Come back! Come back quickly!" Everyone's gaze shot upwards, following Neville's uncontrolled ascent.

He was too fast. In the blink of an eye, he was dozens of feet in the air, still accelerating, his terrified screams echoing across the field.

"Ahhh…" Neville's broomstick had completely lost control. "Child! Control your broomstick! Hold on tight!" Madam Hooch shouted, but it was useless.

With frightening speed, Neville was suddenly flung off the broom.

Thud…

Neville crashed heavily onto the ground, curling into a ball. His broomstick, meanwhile, continued its wild flight, soaring higher and higher, heading towards the Forbidden Forest before disappearing from sight.

Everything happened so fast that many students hadn't even reacted before Neville fell.

Madam Hooch immediately rushed over to check on him. "Oh, a broken wrist," she said, visibly relieved. "Thankfully, no serious injuries." She turned to the rest of the class. "I'm taking this child to the Hospital Wing. You will all put your broomsticks back where they belong, and do not, I repeat, do not mount another one. Anyone I catch in the air will be expelled from Hogwarts!"

She helped the pale-faced Neville, who was limping badly, back towards the castle. The moment they disappeared through the entrance, Malfoy burst out laughing.

"Did you see his face?" he shrieked, tears of mirth streaming down his face. "That oaf! He's hilarious!" Many of the Slytherin students joined in, their laughter echoing across the field.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry snapped, unable to contain his anger.

"Oh, defending that oaf, are we, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, his eyes filled with contempt. He then caught sight of something glittering on the ground near where Neville had fallen. He bent down and picked it up.

(End of Chapter)

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