I am Harry Potter's Cousin, Big D

"I really do suspect that the Quill of Acceptance is broken," a thin, reedy voice suddenly echoed inside Dudley's head. "But it definitely can't be wrong. It's older than I am." If the ancient, frayed hat could have shown a human expression, Dudley was certain it would be the bewildered, squinting look of a grandfather trying to read a text message on a tiny phone.

"Whether it is or not doesn't matter," Dudley thought back, trying his best to maintain a state of inner calm. "At least I'm here."

"That does make sense," the Sorting Hat conceded.

"So, which house will I be sorted into? Hufflepuff?" Dudley was already mentally prepared. 'Just hurry up and sort me into Hufflepuff,' he added silently, 'I'm starving.'

After a moment's pause, the Hat seemed to discover something new. "I take back what I just said," it announced, its mental voice full of surprise. "Actually, you are very ambitious. Very capable. You have a great many ideas, and you like to be fully prepared before acting. Oh, what was that word... proactive. Yes. You really do remind me of that person..."

"You can see my thoughts?" A slight ripple disturbed the calm surface of Dudley's mind. Before getting on the stool, he had performed 'Calm Mind' five times, boosting his mental defenses.

"No, I can only read the qualities upon you," the Hat replied.

"Qualities?"

"Yes, qualities. Now stop, stop! The thoughts in your mind are like a jar of sesame seeds dropped on the floor—so messy it gives a hat a headache! Completely unlike those simple-minded little wizards."

"Sorting Hat, and you say you can't read minds?"

"I'm just a hat!" the Hat argued defensively. "There's no need to be so difficult with me. Under normal circumstances, I would simply follow the wishes of you little wizards, but my consciousness was formed by the thoughts instilled by the four founders of this school..."

As it spoke, its tone changed. The reedy voice deepened, slowed, and took on a much lower, more ancient pitch. Although it was still the Sorting Hat, it gave Dudley the distinct illusion that he was conversing with someone, or something, else entirely.

"You are very similar to that person," the new voice intoned, emphasizing each word. "Strong-willed, contemptuous of dogma... Of course, if you could just stop those messy thoughts in your mind for one moment! Now! Immediately! This hat is going to explode!" The voice shifted back, the ancient, mysterious tone replaced by the previous urgent, reedy one.

Dudley did not like others prying into his thoughts, even if the "other" was a piece of enchanted headwear. So, he began to mentally review every piece of complex knowledge he had ever learned, a deliberate barrage of information.

'The derivative of sin(x) is cos(x), the derivative of cos(x) is -sin(x)...'

'When several particles interact, the characteristics of each particle become integrated into the overall properties of the system and thus cannot be described individually...'

"Alright, alright, I won't look!" the Hat shrieked, its consciousness nearly drowning in the chaotic ocean of Muggle science and mathematics. It swore that in a thousand years, it had never encountered such a little wizard. Where did he learn all this?

By now, a considerable amount of time had passed. Although most of the hall's attention was still on Harry, people were beginning to notice that the large boy on the stool was taking an unusually long time to be sorted. Even longer than Harry Potter.

"Perhaps, when you came here, you heard many bad things about a certain house," the Hat's voice suddenly returned to the deep, ancient tone. "But... sometimes what you hear from others is not necessarily true. A thousand years can make many things deteriorate. I hope you can see through the phenomenon to the essence."

The Hat suddenly shrieked loudly, its voice echoing through the Great Hall.

"Then... SLYTHERIN!"

Almost at the same moment, a familiar notification chimed in Dudley's ear.

Mission completed. Entered Slytherin House. Mission reward: Data Eye LV0.

Before Dudley could even begin to process the reward, the ancient voice in his head spoke one last time. "Salazar's consciousness hopes that you can properly reorganize that place. The current Slytherin is simply a mess... like a cesspool."

The words caused Dudley's expression to change for the first time. Salazar Slytherin, the founder of the house, wanted him to clean it up? At first glance, it seemed incredible, but upon closer thought, it was perfectly logical. If the Hat contained the consciousness of the four founders, it was not so strange. This wasn't scientific, but it was very, very magical.

'Then...' A flash of inspiration, a bold idea, struck him.

"Hey! I'm just a hat!" the Hat's normal voice shouted, as if sensing his train of thought. "An ordinary magical hat! I only have their thoughts and personalities, not their knowledge!"

"What a pity..." Dudley thought with genuine regret. He suddenly remembered that Slytherin had opposed admitting Muggle-born wizards to Hogwarts. And Dudley was, strictly speaking, a Muggle-born.

"Slytherin is Slytherin. I am me," the Hat clarified. "I have his consciousness, but I am not him."

"Now go to the Slytherin long table! Immediately!"

A large, pale hand descended from the sky, yanking the Sorting Hat from Dudley's head and interrupting their silent conversation. A middle-aged man with greasy, shoulder-length black hair, black robes, and a perpetually sour expression stood over him.

Dudley had been on the stool for so long that the Head of Slytherin could stand it no longer. Snape yanked Dudley's arm but, to his surprise, found that he couldn't budge the boy. His lips moved, about to release his usual venom, but he paused, as if remembering something. The words that came out were different.

"What are you still standing there for? Do you need a written invitation, Mr. Dursley?"

A wave of suppressed laughter rippled from the Gryffindor table. They were always happy to see someone from Slytherin make a fool of themselves.

Normally, even if a new student wasn't as popular as Harry, they would receive at least a polite round of applause. But as Dudley walked towards the Slytherin table, there were no cheers. There was not a single word of welcome. The students shifted away from him, leaving an empty space on the bench.

The unwelcoming, absolute exclusion was very, very obvious.

(End of Chapter)

***

[Check Out My Patreon For More Chapters On All

Of My Fanfics!!] [www. [email protected]/meowthtl]

[+300 Power Stones = +1 Bonus Chapter]

[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]

[Thank You For Your Support!]