Chapter 523 – Apologize!!
"Apologize!
Apologize to my brother!
Apologize to Hermione!"
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding...]
Darren stood up.
His fingers brushed against his wand.
But this time, Malfoy didn't retreat, nor did he leave.
He looked at Darren coldly and sneered.
"Yes, did I hit your sore spot?
After all, you're willing to risk your life for Harry Potter.
That feeling of dying—must have been pretty comfortable, right?
You watched an old man die for Harry Potter.
Do you still remember that?"
"Stop!"
"Shut up!"
"Malfoy!"
Before Darren could even cast a spell, several curses had already struck Malfoy.
Malfoy was knocked to the ground.
Crabbe and Goyle collapsed as well, unconscious.
Darren walked forward instinctively and raised his wand, intending to heal them.
But Fred rushed over.
Fred and George each grabbed one of Darren's arms and dragged him back into the compartment.
"Don't worry about them. The train staff will handle it.
Anyway, they're not dead."
"And honestly," George added, half-joking,
"he really shouldn't have said that. Darren, you're already uncomfortable enough.
What, does he want you to die?"
They spoke lightly, but their tone carried real concern.
Darren quickly shook his head and said helplessly,
"I really don't care anymore.
I don't care about Mr. Diggory's death…"
"Oh?"
"Yeah right."
"Mum wouldn't believe that for a second."
The twins grinned mischievously, leaving Darren completely helpless.
With no choice, he changed the subject.
Otherwise, they would keep bringing this up endlessly—and that was truly awkward.
"By the way," Darren asked suddenly,
"who did you say you were blackmailing before?"
Ron and Harry also looked over.
Clearly, they were curious too.
"You know…" Fred hesitated for a moment.
"Well—it was Ludo Bagman."
"What?" Harry asked sharply.
"Was he involved with Voldemort too?"
Fred shook his head.
"No, no, not that. He's just a massive idiot.
At the Quidditch World Cup, we lent him money to gamble.
Then we won, and he happily paid us back…
Except the next day, all the money vanished.
We suspected he paid us with leprechaun gold."
"It's also possible you just lost it," Hermione said bluntly.
"That day was chaotic."
Fred and George exchanged a look, then nodded.
"Yeah, we thought that too at first.
But we decided to test him.
So we told him he'd paid us with leprechaun gold.
He panicked and ran off.
After that, he kept avoiding us—and whenever he saw us, he lost his temper.
We asked Lee Jordan to investigate.
Turns out his family vault was empty.
That's when we were sure—he really did give us leprechaun gold."
"And later," George continued,
"we found out he'd made a bet with goblins, lost badly, and they took all his gold.
He had no money to pay us back.
So he bet again—with the goblins—on Darren winning the Triwizard Tournament."
Harry laughed.
"Then wouldn't he have made a fortune?"
After all, Darren was the undisputed winner.
"No," Fred said, shaking his head.
"He bet on Darren winning big, but the goblins argued that you touched the Cup first.
They claimed that if Darren had been more 'modest,' then you would've won,
so the two of you should count as tied.
Bagman was furious—but helpless.
In the end, he just ran away."
Harry and the others were speechless.
Still, the year was finally over.
They spent the rest of the journey playing Exploding Snap.
When Darren realized the train had reached the final station, a determined look appeared on his face.
Those one thousand gold Galleons—
He decided to give them to Fred and George after all.
Otherwise, how would they fund their future prank inventions next year?
Wouldn't Hogwarts be far less interesting?
So while Harry and the others were busy with luggage, Darren pulled Fred and George aside.
He took out the heavy bag of gold Galleons.
"This is all for you.
I know you want to open a joke shop.
This is your start-up capital."
"No, we can't take that!"
"Yeah, even if we're short on money—"
Before Fred could finish, Darren shoved the bag straight into his pocket.
With a flick of his wand, Fred's pocket sealed shut.
"In one day, the pocket will open again.
Don't give it back to me.
Like you said, I haven't really recovered yet.
When I see these Galleons, all I can think about is Mr. Diggory's lifeless eyes.
Take them. Please."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
"…Alright," Fred finally sighed.
"But when we make money later, you'll get your share."
"Exactly," George added.
"We won't forget our great benefactor.
It's just… Darren, this really isn't healthy.
Maybe you should see a Muggle psychiatrist over the summer."
They joked—but their eyes were full of worry.
Darren nodded helplessly.
Great.
If he didn't act unstable, they worried.
If he did, they worried even more.
"Alright, don't worry. I'll ask a professor to help me find one.
Have a good summer. I'm leaving!"
Darren grabbed his suitcase, took Harry with him, and waved goodbye to Fred and George.
Then he saw Nicolas Flamel and his wife, Perenelle.
Their eyes were red.
"Child," Nicolas said softly,
"Dumbledore wouldn't let us watch the Triwizard Tournament.
He was afraid it would cause too much attention.
We… couldn't do anything.
We just wanted to see whether your injuries have healed."
"Of course," Darren laughed.
"The doctors at St. Mungo's are excellent."
He waved to Harry, clearly ready to leave.
But just as Harry was about to head toward the Dursleys, Darren suddenly rushed back.
He stuffed a Fat-Tongue Toffee into Harry's hand.
"Brother, if someone bullies you—give them this.
Fred and George made it. You know how it works."
Harry burst out laughing.
Then he hugged Darren tightly.
"Darren… when I was at St. Mungo's, I wanted to tell you something.
I've always wanted to be your most admired brother.
Whether I'm a savior or not…
I just want your admiration.
It's just—I always feel like I don't really deserve it."
"You're overthinking it," Darren said lightly.
"I remember my brother shouting at Voldemort to defend me.
And letting me bite him.
How could I not admire you?"
[Ding, Father +100]