"That's incredible! Can you teach me?" Ron asked eagerly.
Dudley had been so cool just moments ago—his moves swift and ruthless, leaving Crabbe and Goyle no chance to fight back. Despite their size, the two hulking boys had crumpled to the ground, unable to use their physical advantage.
In terms of raw fighting ability, they didn't even measure up to Harry.
"You want to learn physical persuasion too?" Dudley asked with a grin.
"Yeah, what if I get picked on at school?" Ron replied.
He couldn't always rely on Dudley being around. Having crossed Malfoy, Ron was sure the boy would stir up trouble later.
"But you're a wizard," Dudley reminded him gently.
"Oh… right," Ron said, glancing at his slightly battered wand, his face flushing. "I almost forgot."
Among wizards, close-quarters brawls were rare. Only first-years, new to magic, might resort to fists. In most cases, spells were far quicker than punches.
"Still, the school probably doesn't allow us to use spells for fighting, right?" Harry chimed in.
"True, students are generally forbidden from dueling with wands," Ron said. "But my brother says school rules don't always stick. Some kids still sneak spells at each other."
Harry nodded, fiddling with his broken glasses.
Malfoy's swing had knocked them off, and when they hit the floor, the lenses cracked and the frames warped.
"My glasses are ruined. I wonder if Hogwarts has a place to fix them," Harry said.
"Probably not, but I know a spell for fixing things. I can try—" Ron started.
Before he could finish, Dudley drew his wand and pointed it at the glasses in Harry's hand.
"Reparo."
Swish.
The glasses instantly snapped back to perfect condition, looking even newer than before.
"Blimey, you know the Reparo spell?" Ron gasped, wide-eyed.
"It's not that hard," Dudley said, tucking his wand away. "I practiced it a few times, and it worked."
First-years could learn the spell, and for those with good aptitude, self-study wasn't a stretch. The difficulty depended on what was being repaired—a pair of glasses didn't demand advanced magical skill.
"You actually self-taught a spell?" Harry said, sliding on his restored glasses, his voice tinged with awe.
He knew Dudley had been dabbling in spellwork, but mastering one so quickly was impressive.
Compared to Dudley, Harry felt clueless about spells, his knowledge limited to vague inklings about the darker corners of the magical world.
"It's not a big deal. Once we're at school, I can teach you," Dudley said casually.
For him, the spell was simple, especially since he'd honed his control over spiritual power.
Outside, the sky had darkened, and the train's speed slowed.
The trio changed into their wizard robes.
"The train will arrive at Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage; it will be sent to the school," a voice announced, echoing through the carriage from an unseen source.
Harry and Ron paled slightly, their nerves evident.
Dudley's expression remained steady, tinged with curiosity. Having witnessed grand spectacles before, he was simply eager to see this magical school.
The train came to a stop, and the three stepped into the crowded corridor.
Students were already lining up to disembark, many turning toward Harry, Dudley, and Ron after hearing the earlier commotion.
Dudley noticed a few giving them approving thumbs-ups.
Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, flashed double thumbs-ups, practically radiating excitement.
Harry, Dudley, and Ron were among the last to step off. Outside, the night was pitch-black, a chilly wind making Harry and Ron shiver.
"First years! First years, over here!" a familiar voice boomed.
Hagrid's massive figure stood nearby, holding a lantern that glowed like a beacon, guiding the first-years.
"Harry, Dudley! Over here! How was your summer?" Hagrid called, waving enthusiastically.
The first-years shuffled toward Hagrid, while older students headed in another direction. Hearing Harry's name, many turned to stare, whispering among themselves.
"You lot just wait!" a venomous voice hissed from the crowd.
Harry, Dudley, and Ron traced the sound to Malfoy and his two cronies, standing not far off, their faces dark with resentment.
Malfoy's injuries had been healed, though faint marks lingered. Crabbe and Goyle's pain wasn't as visible, but their stiff postures betrayed their discomfort.
"What, want another go?" Dudley said, grinning as he raised a fist.
"Ah!" Malfoy yelped, stumbling back several steps.
Realizing Dudley was over ten meters away, he relaxed slightly—safe, for now.
"Just you wait! I've told my father. You're all getting expelled!" Malfoy spat, clenching his fists. He itched to charge at Dudley but didn't dare.
This guy's fighting prowess was overwhelming; the three of them hadn't stood a chance. Malfoy wasn't foolish enough to try again.
"Heh," Dudley scoffed, turning away, dismissing him.
Just another spoiled rich kid. Dudley had plenty of ways to handle his type.
"Follow me, everyone, follow me!" Hagrid called, not bothering to ask about the altercation. He led the first-years down a steep, narrow path.
The surrounding forest was shrouded in darkness, and the group moved in tense silence.
"Round that bend, you'll see Hogwarts," Hagrid said from the shadows.
Soon, they turned the corner, and a vast lake stretched before them. On a hillside beyond, a magnificent castle loomed.
Towers dotted the castle, its countless windows glowing like stars. Its reflection shimmered on the lake's dark surface, exuding an air of grandeur and mystery.