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Chapter 31 – The Price of Purity
Darren nodded perfunctorily, not really expecting Miss Greengrass to offer him advice. Her words were sharp and smug, but he had to admit, they were still meant for his own good—even if he wasn't worried at all.
Seeing that he seemed to understand, Betsy looked slightly relieved, then quickly masked it with her usual arrogance.
"Hmph, you're such a pain to talk to, annoying little cub! Don't think you can earn the Greengrass family's friendship so easily!"
Her tone dripped with disdain. Darren blinked, scratching his hair in confusion. He had never once said he wanted to be her friend. In fact, he had turned her offer down flat before! This girl was just impossible. Still, he decided to keep it simple.
"Alright," Darren said seriously. "I won't delude myself about gaining the Greengrass family's friendship."
He nodded firmly, like he was making an oath. Betsy opened her mouth, ready to snap back, but ended up speechless. She had only said that to get an apology out of him—yet this idiot actually agreed! Huffing in frustration, she turned and stomped off, muttering under her breath.
Stupid. So stupid!
"Miss Greengrass," Darren called after her, "can I use the restroom before we leave St. Mungo's?"
His tone was polite but distant, which irritated her even more. Still, she couldn't exactly refuse.
"Fine," she said tightly. "Go, little cub. I'll be waiting outside St. Mungo's—don't take too long!"
"Got it!" Darren replied cheerfully.
He didn't care about her attitude in the slightest. He was only helping her because of the system's mission, not because he wanted to be her friend. Let her think whatever she liked.
As soon as Betsy's back disappeared down the corridor, Darren hurried toward the payment counter. A sign above the window read:
> Accepted Currencies: Galleons · Sickles · Knuts · GBP · USD
We support Gringotts transfers. Loans available.
A young witch sat behind the counter, smiling kindly when she saw him approach.
"Hello, dear. Are you looking for someone?"
"No, ma'am," Darren said quickly. "I'm here to pay for someone's treatment." He took out a small enchanted key. "This is Miss Betsy Greengrass's Gringotts key. Please transfer all thirty thousand Galleons in it to Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom's account."
The clerk blinked, checked the ledger, then nodded. "Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom… yes, found them." She tossed the key gently into the air, and it vanished. Darren's eyes widened.
"Wait—that had thirty thousand Galleons in it!"
The witch chuckled softly. "Relax, dear. The key's being carried by a Nightingale. It'll reach Gringotts in seconds and withdraw the funds."
Darren froze. "A Nightingale? You mean the creatures only people who've seen death can see?"
She nodded. "They're reliable couriers."
He rubbed his temples. St. Mungo's was stranger than he thought. A few moments later, a small pouch dropped out of thin air and landed neatly on the counter.
"Perfect," the witch said. "Exactly thirty thousand Galleons. All confirmed."
"Good," Darren nodded. "Please credit it all to the Longbottoms' account."
The witch smiled. "Done. Their balance is now twenty-eight thousand and one Galleons. They were behind on payments. If this hadn't come through soon, not even Dumbledore could have kept them here."
Darren frowned. "How much do their treatments cost each month?"
She flipped through the chart. "Around five hundred Galleons normally. Recently, Mrs. Longbottom requested a new therapy plan—it raised the monthly cost to about seven hundred. This donation should last them roughly three years." She looked up. "Would you like me to tell Mrs. Longbottom who made the donation?"
Darren smiled and shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm just an ordinary kid. Please don't spread my name or my face."
He waved and walked off, glancing once more at the Longbottoms' ward. Three years. Hopefully, the system would give him another task like this before then.
[Ding! Mission complete. Perfect execution detected.]
[Reward unlocked: Voldemort's Bloodline (Fragment).]
[Bonus: Transfiguration Talent +2.]
Voldemort's Bloodline: A corrupted branch of Slytherin lineage. Upon fusion, gain Parseltongue and Voldemort's Gaze (passive effect: intimidation and minor Legilimency). Reward automatically integrated.
Darren froze. "What?!"
The system had lost its mind. Harry had a fragment of Voldemort's soul and Dumbledore nearly went crazy saving him. If Darren suddenly showed signs of Voldemort's bloodline, Dumbledore would probably skip the lecture and go straight to an Avada Kedavra.
[System, maybe… take this reward back?]
[Ding! The system advises the host not to make unreasonable requests.]
"Unreasonable—?!" Darren groaned. "That's called staying alive!"
But the system ignored him completely.
Defeated, he sighed and looked at the second reward.
Transfiguration Talent +2.
His score rose from 4 to 6 now—about average for a Hogwarts student. Earlier, he had exchanged some Holy Father points to raise it to 10, but he never went higher. Being too good just drew jealousy. Better to seem humble and approachable—someone "extraordinary, yet ordinary."
That was how people admired you instead of envying you.
And admiration was worth far more Holy Father points than praise ever could be.
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Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
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