MeowthTL
patreon
Harry Potter: Dudley From LOTM - 336
🕑 Added 2025-12-04 18:14:26 +0000 UTCChapter 336: A Strange Display Chapter
Dudley’s gaze flickered as he looked towards the spot where the air was rippling.
Boom.
A terrifying invisible force rippled outwards, smashing through the laws he had laid over the space.
Crack.
With a sharp report, two figures appeared in the centre of the hall.
One was Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic. The other was Albus Dumbledore, wand already in hand.
"Merlin’s beard!" Fudge yelped the instant he arrived, eyes bulging at the wall of Fiendfyre all around them.
Even Dumbledore’s face tightened. He took in the terrible flames, then looked to Dudley, who stood calm and unscorched not far away. For once, strong emotion flickered openly across his eyes.
"Dudley, what is going on?" he asked, still shaken.
"You will have to ask Director Scrimgeour," Dudley replied evenly. "I am the victim, but he has treated me like a suspect from the start, even insisting on dragging me back to the Ministry for interrogation."
"I had no choice but to resist."
Scrimgeour’s expression went ashen. He opened his mouth to argue, but one glance at the Fiendfyre curling overhead made him swallow the words.
"Whatever has happened, put out the flames first," Dumbledore said at once. "This is a misunderstanding. Trust me."
Dudley gave him a cool look. After a moment’s thought, he turned his wand.
The Fiendfyre vanished in an instant, as if it had never been there at all. Walls, ceiling, carpet, fixtures – none of them bore the slightest scorch mark.
Every witch and wizard in the hall sucked in a cold breath.
Dudley’s control of Fiendfyre had clearly reached a frightening level. The precision of it was enough to leave them speechless.
They had never seen anyone do such a thing. Fiendfyre was an extremely dangerous Dark spell, notoriously hard to master. Many who tried died in their own flames. To wield it as cleanly as Dudley had just done seemed almost impossible.
"I hope," Dudley said, looking at Dumbledore, "that I will be getting a satisfactory explanation."
The moment the first ripples in space had appeared, he had known Dumbledore was coming. There were not many wizards in this world who could simply break through his strictures. Dumbledore was one of them.
Even then, Dudley had not used his full strength. Had he wished, he could have strengthened the laws the instant he felt the intrusion, even drawn on the Trunsoest Brass Book to raise them to a higher level entirely.
He had chosen not to.
"Wh‑What on earth happened here?" Fudge stammered, stunned.
He had received an urgent report that Grindelwald had appeared in Surrey, and at once dropped everything to rush over with Dumbledore.
Yet when they tried to Apparate in, they hit resistance. His own attempt failed outright. Only by Apparating under Dumbledore’s lead had they forced their way through, arriving just in time to see a scene he would never forget.
Fiendfyre wrapped the entire hall; the slightest disturbance might well have incinerated most of the people present.
And all of it had been conjured by a thirteen‑year‑old boy.
"Minister, I have reason to suspect this child may actually be Grindelwald in disguise," Scrimgeour declared loudly.
"Rufus, I can assure you he is not," Dumbledore said, glancing at Dudley, his tone firm.
"Dumbledore, this is a Ministry matter. Do not interfere, and do not make hasty judgements," Scrimgeour said coldly.
"If I had not interfered, you would all still be standing in Fiendfyre right now, one slip away from burning to death," Dumbledore replied, face hard.
Scrimgeour’s jaw clenched, his glare turning icy.
"Do not look at me like that. I am not one of the criminals you hunt," Dumbledore said. "And frankly, you need to get your temper under control. To put it bluntly, your emotions are becoming a problem."
Fudge’s gaze flicked between the two men. He could not even find an opening to speak.
"There is nothing wrong with me," Scrimgeour ground out.
Hearing that, Dudley frowned slightly and slipped into thought.
His own emotions had not been entirely right just now.
It was true that he no longer cared much about the Ministry, or even about the wizarding world as a whole. With his current strength, even if things completely broke down between them, he could survive just fine.
But he had still been more impulsive than he should have been.
Looking back on it now, he could sense something was off.
"Grindelwald?" he thought.
On reflection, there was likely no one but Grindelwald who could so subtly affect him. The man had amplified certain desires and darker impulses in his heart, so that when Scrimgeour provoked him, his reaction had almost slipped out of control.
"Dudley, you said Grindelwald appeared. Why did he come here?" Dumbledore asked, turning away from Scrimgeour.
"He came to recruit me. Wanted me to join his side," Dudley said.
"Ridiculous. Grindelwald would not travel halfway across the continent just to court a thirteen‑year‑old boy..." Scrimgeour snorted.
"If that boy can cast Fiendfyre and control it well enough to imprison more than a dozen elite Aurors, then he is certainly worth recruiting, is he not?" Dumbledore said mildly, looking at him.
Scrimgeour’s face froze. He shut his mouth.
"What exactly did he say?" Dumbledore pressed.
Dudley recounted what had happened, including the way Grindelwald had fled at the end.
"He was making a prophecy," Dumbledore said at once. "His eyes can see the future."
Clearly, he knew Grindelwald very well.
"Then why did his prophecy fail this time? His eyes bled. What did he see?" Dumbledore murmured, lost in thought as he paced back and forth.
Fudge, meanwhile, looked utterly at sea. As Minister for Magic, he had seen a lot, but the last few days had been overwhelming: Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban, Grindelwald’s breakout and sudden appearance in Britain, and now this hall full of Fiendfyre. He no longer knew where to start.
While Dumbledore was still thinking, Dudley’s gaze drifted back to Scrimgeour.
There was something wrong with that man.
The more Dudley considered it, the more certain he felt.
"Scrimgeour," he said suddenly, "are you carrying some kind of Dark artefact on you?"
