Hogwarts: I'm Harry's older cousin

Chapter 124, Section 122: Madison Roberts Flint

Dudley was puzzled after Harry recounted everything he had heard.

The old, black diary lay quietly in a specially made box, which Dudley planned to refine soon. Because it wasn't a pure soul like Voldemort's remnant soul, the diary was already a Horcrux. Although its material was special, it needed to be destroyed first, otherwise it would affect the purity of the Philosopher's Stone.

Unless one's alchemy skills can be upgraded.

Without the call of the diary, shouldn't that old serpent have fallen into a deep sleep?

Why can Harry still hear its voice?

Could it be that someone else awakened it?

"What you're hearing isn't a human voice," Dudley gave Harry a hint.

"Not human?" Harry paused for a moment, then his confusion vanished. It couldn't be human: "A ghost?"

"It's possible, but most likely not, that they are ghosts. The ghosts at Hogwarts don't need blood or living sacrifices; they reject everything from the living."

First of all, ghosts eat different things than living people. Secondly, even Barrow, the blood man of Hogwarts, only appears to be covered in blood; that's how he looked before he died. In reality, he doesn't need blood or human sacrifices.

"Harry, you should know that I can understand the language of many animals, and you are my distant relative. Is it possible that you have the same ability?"

Dudley continued to guide Harry: "Remember last year? You were talking to a python at the zoo."

"Yes, it says it's from Brazil."

Harry nodded after hearing Dudley's words. He knew he hadn't asked the wrong person.

"Harry, next time you hear that voice, get away from it and find me."

After comforting Harry, Dudley headed straight for Slytherin's bedroom; he was going to refine the diary today.

As for that big old snake, it also needs to be dealt with. It's necessary to tell Dumbledore.

The basilisk, also known as the basilisk king, is an extremely ferocious and magical creature. It is bloodthirsty and murderous, and most importantly, any creature that makes direct eye contact with it will die instantly.

We can't completely rely on luck, and we can't let anyone take risks. Dudley originally didn't plan to deal with the basilisk so soon, but now that it's awakened, we must eliminate this destabilizing factor.

As Dudley was deep in thought, he turned a corner when a figure suddenly rushed out and slammed into him. Dudley was then thrown back without any surprise, crying out as he fell to the ground.

"Are you alright?" Dali asked, judging from the sensations he felt, it was a girl.

"It's alright. I didn't expect anyone to be here, Mr. Dursley. I didn't realize it was you."

It was indeed a girl, she exclaimed excitedly.

Dali then got a clear look at the girl's face.

She was a girl with shoulder-length blonde hair, a delicate face and smooth, flawless skin, and a slightly protruding chest that wasn't yet obvious but was already developing. Especially striking were her bright, vibrant, and eye-catching reddish-brown eyes.

Stunning – that was the girl's first impression of Dali.

The girl lowered her head slightly and looked up, her big, watery eyes fixed on Dali, seemingly radiating a light of adoration.

Many Slytherin girls have looked at him with that kind of gaze.

"I don't think you know me. I'm a freshman in Ravenclaw this year."

Seeing that Dali showed no intention of helping her up, the girl had no choice but to get up from the ground on her own, rub her bruised knee, and timidly introduce herself to Dali.

"My name is Madison Roberts Flint."

Your eyes are as clear and pure as a lake, and your voices are as melodious and captivating as a lark's.

Anyone else would surely be moved by that charming expression.

Unfortunately, the person standing opposite her was Dudley, Dudley Dursley.

"Flint?" Dudley paused slightly upon hearing this, as he was very familiar with the surname Flint.

I met a young wizard with the same last name when I first enrolled last year.

Yeah, the guy who got knocked down by his flying Crabbe hammer.

A buck-toothed captain from Slytherin.

If I remember correctly, he is already in sixth grade this year.

Judging from their surnames, the two should be related by blood. As for why one is named Madison Roberts Flint and the other Marcus Flint, that's their family matter, and Dudley has no interest in or need of knowing.

He wasn't curious.

"Yes, sir. Marcus Flint is my brother." Madison gently tossed her hair. Despite being only an 11 or 2-year-old first-grader, the gesture conveyed a maturity that even fourth or fifth-graders lacked. She subtly moved closer to Dudley.

"I think I should apologize to you for my brother's previous rudeness."

Too close. Dali could even smell the faint fragrance emanating from the other's skin. His brows furrowed slightly, as if he was uncomfortable with this somewhat intimate gesture. He silently moved away a little, not backward, but to the right.

"I didn't take it to heart, and that happened last year."

Since offending Dudley last year, especially after Dudley's rise to power, Marcus has basically avoided him whenever they meet.

Actually, this is unnecessary; Daryl Desley is a very generous man.

Describing – persuading people with reason.

"Is there anything else? If not, I'm leaving."

Madison opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing, watching Dudley leave.

"I will make you remember me."

Dudley had only taken a few steps when he heard a very soft voice behind him.

His tone and demeanor were spot-on, making him appear like a complete admirer.

However, Dali did not hesitate or stop at all, and strode forward.

Although he was thinking about something, he was certain he hadn't heard any footsteps beforehand.

So this witch named Madison must have been there all along, deliberately planning to crash into me.

And the faint fragrance on the other person smells like it's been laced with a love potion.

However, her technique was quite immature. If it were Dali, he would have a hundred ways to do it more subtly.

All signs indicate that the other party is targeting them.

However, he didn't take it to heart, nor was he interested in knowing the other party's purpose. Whatever you want to do, if you piss me off, I'll give you a good beating.

Dudley went straight back to his room, pushed open the door, and frowned slightly.

Although the furnishings inside were exactly the same as when he left, and there were no signs of any disturbance, Dudley was certain that someone had been inside.

No one can hide anything from Dali's eyes.

It doesn't matter who it is, but it's necessary to reinforce your bedroom.

Anyway, if it happens once, it will happen again; as long as they catch it, that's fine.

He gently closed the door, clasped his hands together, and formed a formation beneath his feet that emitted a faint light. A pitch-black box slowly rose from the ground, and when he opened the lid, it was empty.

It was stolen?

Of course not.

Dudley was not surprised at all; the box itself was just a cover. He clasped his hands together again.

An old, black-covered diary slowly emerged from the bottom of the box.

It seems the 'thief' is quite stupid; he couldn't even find the first layer of disguise.

I'd guess some people think the diary might have been stolen. But that's impossible.

(End of this chapter)