A Weak Wizard! The Old Man Strikes!

"Huh?"

Hagrid and Harry stared, mouths agape.

"What do you mean, 'huh'? I'm strong enough to hold on to Hagrid, and sitting up high is safer. Hagrid is even stronger than me, so carrying me won't be difficult. This is the best solution!"

Dudley's reasoning had always been sound and well-founded.

"Oh, Dudley! You're a fine lad!"

Hagrid believed Dudley was thinking of Harry and admired him greatly, praising him without hesitation.

Harry, meanwhile, believed his cousin must have his reasons for doing this, so he should go along with it.

Thus, Harry nimbly jumped into the cart, while Hagrid clambered in with difficulty.

As expected, the cart was now completely full.

Dudley's eyes flashed. With a running start and a leap, he grabbed Hagrid's elbow for leverage and landed perfectly on Hagrid's shoulder.

From this position, Dudley could secretly feel through several of the upper pockets in Hagrid's coat and shirt.

If everything went smoothly and no outsiders interfered, Dudley's "civet-for-prince" plan would be easily completed on the return trip after collecting the items from the underground vault.

"Hold tight! We're setting off!"

Griphook gave them a warning, and the cart—without any sort of power system—shot forward along the twisting tracks.

"Ah—"

Harry and Dudley cried out excitedly. They thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of speeding through the darkness.

Hagrid did not feel the same way. The cart's sudden swerves left and right made him want to vomit, but Dudley had tightly wrapped his arms around Hagrid's huge head, making him even dizzier.

As they sped toward Gringotts' underground vaults,

Dudley, sitting high up and shouting excitedly, remained incomparably calm inside.

"System, fuse three bags of Harry's magical blood!" he issued the clear command in his mind.

[Command received! Consuming 1 D-rank magical item fusion opportunity.]

The three refrigerated blood bags tightly strapped beneath Dudley's coat, wrapped in tinfoil and cotton, instantly shriveled up. Every last drop of blood stored within transformed into invisible, colorless light and merged into Dudley's body.

[Congratulations, Host!]

[You have obtained Weak Wizard Bloodline!]

[From this moment onward, you are no longer a Muggle. You have become a useless little wizard with no potential for improvement, capable of learning at most five ordinary spells!]

[You have obtained Weakened Mother's Love Protection!]

[Now, Lily Potter's maternal love and sacrifice can offer a little protection to her sister's son!]

[Before the host reaches adulthood, you may temporarily withstand and reflect one killing curse. Both the resistance and reflected damage will be eighty percent of the killing curse's power. Through touch, you may also backlash against anyone who harbors murderous intent toward the host. The backlash damage will be half the strength of their killing intent.]

As the cart hurtled onward, Dudley felt a small warm current envelop him. It was immensely comfortable.

At the same time, having successfully obtained a wizard bloodline, Dudley experienced his first magical outburst!

An extremely faint current of air appeared and gave the speeding cart a little "push" from behind.

Then... then there was nothing else.

It was not even as strong as Hagrid blowing hard!

How was that a magical outburst? It was clearly magical squirming!

Dudley had expected this outcome, but he still could not help feeling slightly disappointed.

Fortunately, he had never pinned his hopes of becoming stronger on Harry's blood.

Aboard the speeding rail cart, Dudley silently changed from a Muggle into a wizard. Hagrid, Harry, and Griphook did not notice at all.

Harry was still marveling at the stalactites of all sizes hanging above the underground space, as well as the scattered flames in the distant darkness that seemed to be breathed out by captive fire dragons.

Griphook was using goblin magic to control the cart, while Hagrid remained nauseated and dizzy from all the shaking and swaying.

Everything was so harmonious.

Meanwhile, in a mysterious ancient castle far away, at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before term had begun, two ancient objects that had been passed down for a thousand years were in conflict.

"Professor Dumbledore! Professor Dumbledore! The Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance are fighting!"

Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts' nominal deputy headmistress but actual working headmistress, hurried toward the headmaster's office.

After reciting the name of a bizarre sweet as the password, Professor McGonagall passed through the blockade of the statue at the office entrance and met that greatest wizard of the twentieth century.

An old man with snow-white hair, a long white beard, and a crooked nose.

"Don't get worked up, Minerva! Would you like a Fizzing Whizbee?" The wise old man always wrapped himself in childlike innocence.

"No, thank you, Dumbledore! Rather than eating sweets, I think you should come with me and see what's going on with the Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance. They fought over a name!"

The diligent Professor McGonagall was clearly more practical.

A short while later, Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall arrived at the place where the Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance were kept.

By then, the dispute between the two ancient magical items had already subsided.

After some sensing and examination, the Book of Admittance agreed to the Quill of Acceptance's request to write.

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall watched helplessly as the Quill of Acceptance added a name to the end of the list of little wizards due to enroll this school year in the Book of Admittance:

Dudley Dursley.

"Dursley?! The Dursley household where Harry is being raised?!"

Professor McGonagall looked utterly incredulous. "How could this be? If the child born to that harsh Muggle couple had potential, the name should have appeared in the Book of Admittance eleven years ago!"

Dumbledore's expression became somewhat grave as well. Over the years, through Squib Order of the Phoenix member Mrs. Figg, Mr. Diggle, and several other unaffiliated wizards, he had maintained a general understanding of the Dursley household's situation.

He knew that Dudley Dursley was an outstanding little Muggle with his own thoughts and attitudes, whose manner of doing things exceeded common sense.

For this reason, he had even concealed himself and observed Dudley and Harry's daily routines of attending school and playing at close range.

Dumbledore could say with absolute certainty that Dudley Dursley was not someone with wizarding talent. He was merely a curious little Muggle interested in wizards and mysticism.

In that respect, he was somewhat like his mother as a child.

But now...

"The Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance aren't broken!" Dumbledore said after sensing them. "And they have never made a mistake!"

"So... this young Dursley really changed from a Muggle into a wizard?!"

Professor McGonagall still could not believe it. This challenged everything she knew. The belief that Muggles could not become wizards was an ironclad rule deeply rooted in the hearts of modern wizards.

"Hagrid wrote to me. He arrived at the Dursley household last night and met Harry and Dudley. In his earlier reply, Harry said he wanted his cousin Dudley to accompany him to buy his school supplies.

At this time, Hagrid should already have brought them to Diagon Alley. They may even have entered Gringotts."

Dumbledore analyzed the situation bit by bit.

A flash of inspiration struck Professor McGonagall, and she suddenly formed a guess. "Gringotts? Dumbledore, you sent Hagrid to retrieve that thing? Could Dudley's becoming a wizard be because of..."

"Minerva, don't tell anyone else about this. Just assume Dudley Dursley's name was written in the Book of Admittance eleven years ago! Now, I need to make a trip to Diagon Alley!"

After pondering for a moment, Dumbledore made his decision.

A fiery red bird answered the summons, flying into the headmaster's office and circling above Dumbledore's head.

The old man with the crooked nose and half-moon spectacles stretched both aged arms into the air and nimbly caught the phoenix's talons.

The next instant, a spiral of crimson light flashed.

The old man and the great bird both vanished.