Hogwarts: I am Harry's eldest cousin

Chapter 44: Don't Come Over!

"Don't, you can't!"

The young wizard let out a miserable scream.

"No, I can. You offended me, so you have to accept punishment my way."

Dudley cruelly smiled, his palm striking relentlessly, producing a continuous sound of slapping.

Annoying kids deserve a good spanking.

Fortunately, Dudley controlled the force. Although it hurt, it wouldn't cause serious injury. At most, they'd lie down for a day or two. After all, magical remedies were miraculous. Once he finished dealing with one, he moved on to the next. No one could escape; those trying to run would be caught and given a good beating by Dudley.

In no time, all the Slytherin young wizards in the room were left lying on the ground, groaning in pain.

This was the Butt Destroyer—Dudley in action.

After spanking all the young wizards, Dudley shifted his gaze to the already frightened Malfoy.

His footsteps, like heavy hammers, pounded on Malfoy's heart.

"Don't come over!"

In a secluded room within the Slytherin common room, several senior Slytherin students sat around a round table.

Slytherin not only had private rooms for prefects but also numerous unused rooms. Slytherin had the smallest student population among the four houses, and the common room, converted from a dungeon, was surprisingly large, even bigger than Gryffindor and Hufflepuff combined.

These empty rooms were mostly turned into meeting rooms, secret meeting places for Slytherin students. The senior Slytherin students occupied one of these rooms.

The terrified screams of Malfoy echoed in their ears. One Slytherin sitting at the table, tall with a buzz cut and an ordinary appearance, except for a noticeable large front tooth, stood up upon hearing this.

"Marcus, what are you doing?"

Marcus had just stood up when he heard a cold reprimand from the man sitting in the main seat.

He was the seventh-year prefect of Slytherin.

Marcus, a Slytherin fifth-year student, was also the current captain and chaser of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"I want to go out and see."

Marcus kept his head down, not daring to look directly at the man.

The man simply waved his hand, similar to Malfoy's tone, but less oily and less inexperienced, "It's just a conflict between younger students, nothing serious. No need for us to get involved."

"But that's Draco, Lucius's only son."

Marcus emphasized.

"So what?"

The prefect, sitting in the main seat, calmly said without any emotional fluctuations, just quietly watching Marcus.

"That's a Slytherin on the other side."

Marcus seemed to be angered by the man's words, and his voice weakened even more.

"So what?"

"What does it have to do with us? What does it have to do with you?"

The prefect questioned.

"I..."

Marcus blushed, and after hesitating for a while, he finally blurted out, "I think we should help him."

The prefect had not spoken yet when another Slytherin sitting on his left spoke up, "Is helping him not enough? We didn't stop the second and third years, plus the first years. Do you know how many of them are?"

"The entire common room has been subjected to a soundproofing spell to prevent outsiders from knowing. Let him have a good time."

"And the result?"

Although they didn't know exactly what happened in the common room, Malfoy's miserable scream made it clear.

"Draco is still a Slytherin."

Marcus spoke again, weaker than before.

"So what?"

"He's also a Slytherin."

The prefect seemed to be irritated by Marcus's words, and his tone rose a few degrees.

"Listen, Marcus. These people were summoned by Malfoy himself. The situation was provoked by Malfoy. If he can't handle it, what does it have to do with us? Is it because he has a big face or a good father?"

Malfoy's childish behavior of always boasting about his father easily led to aversion, especially among those families that were not inferior to the Malfoy family.

Is the world only made up of those with fathers?

"Remember, we are Slytherins, not nursery school caretakers. We don't have time or energy to teach you anything in the future. It's up to you. You've failed in the competition for prefect, don't let me regret choosing you as the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Don't disgrace the Flint family."

Seeing that Marcus still kept glancing at the door, apparently not fully absorbing his words, the prefect shook his head helplessly and sighed.

"The person you want to help Malfoy has already failed, so what can you do? If I were you, I would choose to befriend him."

The prefect felt that he had explained enough. If Marcus still didn't get it, it had nothing to do with them. After all, they would graduate soon.

Back in the common room, Dudley had walked up to the cowering Malfoy.

Ignoring Malfoy's continuous shouts of "Don't come over," he pressed down on Malfoy's little head, twisted it around, and leaned down, his face gradually enlarging in Malfoy's desperate eyes. Malfoy could clearly hear the heavy breathing of the other person. At that moment, he recalled the fear of being eaten alive in Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Dudley slowly opened his mouth, revealing two rows of white teeth that looked frightening under the faint green light.

At that moment, Malfoy decisively made a 'click' sound, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted.

(End of Chapter)

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