The moment Dudley's gaze fell upon him, Harry tensed, a familiar unease prickling his skin.
That fat pig isn't cooking up another scheme, is he? Damn it.
Harry instantly put his guard up. He had to keep his distance from Dudley today, no matter what.
"Oh, my little Diddy-dums, come and see your birthday presents!" Aunt Petunia sang, oblivious to the silent exchange. She playfully covered Dudley's eyes with her hands and guided him toward the mountain of gifts piled on the dining table.
"Happy Birthday!" Petunia and Vernon bellowed in unison as she swept her hands away.
"Wow," Dudley breathed. He stared at the dazzling array of brightly wrapped packages. It had been so long since he'd celebrated a birthday. In that other, twisted world, such a thing was an unthinkable luxury.
If this were the old me, he thought with a flicker of self-disgust, I'd be counting them right now.
He glanced over the pile.
"Thirty-seven," he said, his voice flat.
Vernon and Petunia exchanged a nervous look. They knew their son. Something was wrong with his mood.
"Darling, you haven't counted Aunt Marge's gift yet," Petunia said quickly, her voice a little too high. "Look, it's that big one under the present from Mummy and Daddy."
"And even if there's one less than last year," Vernon added hastily, "they're much bigger presents this time!"
"I see," Dudley simply nodded.
He had, of course, already seen the other gifts. He was just playing the part of his younger, dumber self. But it didn't matter. For the man Dudley had become, these childish trinkets were meaningless.
Seeing that Dudley didn't throw a tantrum, Petunia and Vernon grew even more flustered. This was a bad sign. A very bad sign. When Dudley didn't explode immediately, it usually meant a much larger eruption was brewing.
"How about this," Vernon blurted out, sweat beading on his upper lip. "When we go out, we'll buy you two more gifts. How does that sound, son?"
"Oh, alright then," Dudley said with a casual shrug. He ignored his breakfast and, to everyone's astonishment, waved a hand toward the kitchen. "Harry, come over and help me unwrap these."
The room fell dead silent. Petunia and Vernon stared, their mouths hanging open, as if their son had just started speaking in tongues.
Harry was just as stunned, but his shock was immediately replaced by deep suspicion.
Damn it, he's definitely trying to mess with me. The conclusion was instant and certain. He's come up with some new prank and wants to use me as the guinea pig. I am absolutely not going over there.
He planted his feet, refusing to move.
"Come on," Dudley said, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "There are so many. I can't possibly unwrap them all myself."
Harry hesitated. There was something odd in Dudley's voice. It was soft, yet it carried an undeniable weight, a subtle authority that made Harry feel an inexplicable urge to obey. And, he had to admit, unwrapping that many presents did sound like a lot of work. Helping out seemed… reasonable.
Slowly, hesitantly, Harry walked over and began to unwrap the gifts with his cousin.
Petunia and Vernon exchanged another baffled look, but since it was Dudley's special day, they decided to let this bizarre behavior slide.
As Harry tore away the wrapping paper, a part of his mind screamed that he shouldn't trust this. But the thought was fleeting, washed away by a strange, giddy excitement. He had never unwrapped a birthday present in his life. Even though these belonged to someone else, the simple act filled him with a joy he'd never known.
"Take whatever you like," Dudley said generously, holding up a new toy gun. "This one's nice. Do you want it?"
A pang of genuine guilt struck Dudley. After everything he had endured, he, more than anyone, understood what it was like to be Harry.
Harry was floored. He didn't know what had gotten into Dudley, but he was acting like a completely different person. Still, no matter how he looked, it was the same face, the same cousin who had made his life a living hell since he was a toddler. He remained vigilant, but a small, treacherous part of him hoped this new Dudley would last. Even if it was just an act, he hoped he would keep pretending for a long, long time.
They worked their way through the pile. Racing cars, video games, action figures—all perfectly ordinary toys. Dudley felt a strange warmth spread through his chest. These things held no value for him now, but seeing them, tangible proof of a normal life, stirred something deep within him.
Finally, Harry reached the bottom of the pile and uncovered the last gift. It was a book.
It was bound in tarnished bronze, its pages thin and brittle with age. It looked ancient, like something excavated from a centuries-old tomb, and it radiated an aura of profound mystery.
Someone actually sent Dudley a book? They must be mad, Harry thought with a private smirk. I'll eat my hat if he even looks at it twice.
He reached for the bronze book. If nothing went wrong, Dudley would never open this. Maybe he could ask for this gift. That way, Dudley wouldn't get angry, and he'd have something new to read. It was a perfect plan.
But just as Harry's fingers were about to brush against the bronze cover, Dudley sensed it. His gaze locked onto the book, and his breath caught in his throat.
Trunsoest's Brass Book!
The thought screamed through his mind. This book—no, how can a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact be here?!
His mind went completely blank. He stared, his eyes wide with disbelief, confirming again and again that the book in front of him was identical to the one from his memories.
The next second, as Harry's hand made contact with the artifact, Dudley lunged. He moved with explosive speed, scattering presents across the floor as he snatched the bronze book away.
"I…" Harry began, stunned into silence.
And then, he understood. The kindness, the offer of gifts—it was all a trick.
"Boy!" Vernon roared, his face turning purple. "Who told you to touch that? Apologize to Dudley! Now!"
Petunia's face hardened into a familiar, cold mask.
"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly, his voice barely a whisper. The apology was humiliating, but he knew from long experience that defying them would only make things worse.
It was just as he'd first thought. Dudley was messing with him.
But Dudley wasn't paying any attention to the drama. The moment his hands closed around the book, he knew. He could feel it. This was the real thing. Sealed Artifact 0-02, Trunsoest's Brass Book, a nightmare from that other world.
In the classification of Sealed Artifacts, a lower number meant an earlier discovery, which almost always correlated with a higher level of danger. For this book to be designated 0-02 spoke volumes about the catastrophe it could unleash.
Dudley's breathing grew ragged, his heart hammering against his ribs. His mind was a maelstrom of panic. He had no idea how to handle this. This wasn't some minor cursed object with a few negative side effects. Once activated, this artifact could rewrite the fundamental laws of reality within a vast area, imposing its own rigid and inescapable rules upon the world.
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