Chapter 8
In his previous life, Dudley had a big soft spot for furry animals and had quite a few at home. Sadly, in this life, his dad Vernon was allergic to cat fur, which meant Dudley couldn't keep a bunch of those adorable fluff balls around.
"Dudley, maybe it's time to let Snowball down; look, it seems like it's not a fan of yours," Mrs. Figg said with a friendly smile, glancing at Dudley.
"Mrs. Figg, I take really good care of Snowball! I even fed it goat's milk when it was a kitten. If it still doesn't like me, that's just plain ungrateful!" Dudley replied, giving Snowball's belly another gentle rub.
Dudley's size and his gentle actions really did give off a vibe of "a tough guy with a soft side."
As for Snowball, the silver tabby in Dudley's arms, it wore a look of disdain but didn't put up much of a fight; in fact, it was purring softly.
Cats are quite different from dogs, especially since Dudley was holding Snowball in a sensitive spot like its belly, which could be seen as a bit of an invasion. If Dudley and Snowball weren't on good terms, he might have ended up with a scratch or two!
"Isn't it your fault for not visiting us in so long?" Mrs. Figg teased lightly. "Snowball, Tibbles, Mr. Paws, and Fluffy hardly recognize you anymore!"
Tibbles, Snowball, Mr. Paws, and Fluffy were the four cats that Mrs. Figg cared for.
From their chat, it was clear that Dudley and Mrs. Figg were already friends; it made sense since Dudley loved cats, and Mrs. Figg was the only cat lover on their street.
At first, Mrs. Figg wasn't too fond of Dudley—or the Dursleys, for that matter—until Harry came to stay with her.
"The schoolwork is just so overwhelming, Mrs. Figg," Dudley sighed.
"Not only do we have to tackle cultural subjects, but we also need to get more…" Dudley finally set Snowball down, but the little furball was reluctant to leave, meowing at him. Dudley pulled out some dried fish from his pocket and started feeding Snowball one by one.
"Just don't overdo it, or it won't eat properly later," Mrs. Figg chuckled, shaking her head. She looked at Dudley's sturdy frame, reminiscent of a little muscleman, and exclaimed, "You're the strongest little guy I've ever seen!"
She couldn't help but think, 'Maybe only one person could outdo you.'
Meanwhile, a few other cats from Mrs. Figg's home caught the scent of the dried fish and peeked out, circling around Dudley's feet and rubbing against him. They were after the fish and also wanted to leave their scent on him.
Harry stood at the door like a little ghost, watching the two chat happily. He couldn't help but feel a bit envious of Dudley's knack for making friends.
"Oh, and Harry," Mrs. Figg suddenly remembered him and asked, "You must be hungry, right? I'll whip you up something to eat!"
Mrs. Figg was a great cook; her fried sausages, pickled cabbage, and mashed potatoes were top-notch. But Dudley wasn't in the mood for those today. After all, Aunt Petunia could cook too, though her skills didn't quite match up to Mrs. Figg's.
Even the best meals can get boring if you have them too often, especially when the menu is so limited.
"Mrs. Figg, let me take care of it," Dudley said, tossing the last of the dried fish to the cats. He clapped his hands and stood up, declaring, "Today, I'll show you my cooking skills!"
Mrs. Figg looked surprised. "Little Dudley can cook?"
She thought it was pretty impressive that the Dursleys had raised Dudley this way, and she didn't expect him to have any cooking talent.
"Absolutely!" Harry chimed in, remembering how delicious Dudley's cooking was last time, and he couldn't help but lick his lips, "Dudley's cooking is amazing!"
Seeing Harry's enthusiasm, Mrs. Figg let Dudley head into the kitchen, albeit with a bit of skepticism.
Dudley got to work, cutting tofu into small pieces and blanching them in hot water. In a hot pan with a splash of oil, he sautéed minced green onion, ginger, and garlic until they were fragrant, then added minced lean meat and stir-fried it until it changed color, filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma.
After a flurry of activity in the kitchen, Dudley served up dishes like twice-cooked pork, braised pork, mapo tofu, lion's head meatballs, and a simple tomato and egg soup.
The four dishes and one soup looked and smelled incredible, instantly making Mrs. Figg and Harry's mouths water.
"Wow, this is really delicious!" Harry exclaimed, his mouth full.
While Aunt Petunia's cooking was decent, her menu was pretty limited, making Dudley's cooking stand out even more.
"It's just some simple home-cooked meals. If you like them, I can whip them up for you every day while I'm here," Dudley said, finishing another bowl of rice.
At home, Aunt Petunia didn't let Dudley into the kitchen. If he wanted to eat, he had to wait until no one was around.
The cats, who had just enjoyed a big meal, were also drawn in by the delicious smells, jumping onto the table and curiously sniffing the dishes.
Unfortunately, the first dish they went for was the mapo tofu, and the spicy scent of chili and Sichuan pepper wasn't to their liking, so they quickly hopped down again.
"Hey, little ones, the kitchen is my domain. Your job now is to focus on your studies," Mrs. Figg said, and Harry's expression fell a bit. But then Mrs. Figg suddenly winked and added, "But it's okay to indulge once in a while."
"Yay!" Harry cheered, raising his soup spoon with a big smile.
In the days that followed, life was pretty peaceful. Dudley and Harry went to school, came home, and enjoyed some time exercising on the lawn.
Then one day, Harry had a school event, and Dudley got home first, only to find that Mrs. Figg was out and hadn't returned yet.
"Meow!" As soon as he stepped inside and hadn't even changed his clothes, Snowball rushed over from the other side of the room, anxiously meowing at Dudley.
"What's up, Snowball?" Dudley asked, puzzled.
He loved cats, but he really didn't understand their language.
"Meow!" When Dudley didn't get it, Snowball tugged at his pant leg a few times, then dashed down the hallway, scratching at a closed door.
Dudley finally figured out what Snowball wanted; it wanted him to follow.
You have to admit, Mrs. Figg's cats were smarter than your average cat. On the other side of the hallway was a locked wooden door, but from inside, he could hear things being knocked around.
"Could it be a thief?"
Dudley's first thought was that someone had broken in. He clenched his fists; if anyone dared to steal from him, they were in for a surprise.
Dudley was ready to take action.
A simple wooden door wouldn't stop him; with a gentle push, he swung it open.
But instead of a thief, he found… a book.
To be precise, a book that was moving on its own.
And it had teeth and eyes!
At that moment, it was chasing Mr. Paws and Tibbles around the room in a wild frenzy.
Note : Guys, some power stones will be really helpful.