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Chapter 41 — The Curse of the Overlord Flower
Darren had long realized that Becky Greengrass was… complicated.
Gorgeous, brilliant, terrifying — and absolutely the kind of person who made enemies faster than she made friends.
But he hadn't expected that simply standing near her would make life this exciting.
In just three days, he had triggered two missions from the Holy Father System — both with amazing rewards.
If Miss Greengrass had been around in his past life, he could have farmed quests off her forever!
She was basically a walking reward chest.
That delightful thought lasted exactly three seconds.
Then his expression changed — excitement vanishing into shock.
"Becky, get down!"
He lunged toward her.
A gunshot cracked through the compartment.
"Boom!"
Darren's back erupted in blood.
"Darren!" Becky's scream tore from her throat as she caught him, half-dragging him to the floor to shield them both from a second shot.
Through the din, she caught a blur of motion — someone sprinting on top of the moving train.
Fast. Too fast for any normal human.
"Bloody hell," she spat, fury lighting her eyes. "You really think I'm some helpless little kitten?"
Her wand snapped into her hand. She darted out, firing hexes in rapid succession — bright, green-white flashes that lit up the corridor.
Her spells struck the attacker head-on, but the figure only staggered and kept coming.
Then — horrifyingly — it changed.
Fur burst from skin. Teeth elongated into yellow fangs.
"A werewolf?" Becky hissed.
The creature leapt, jaws wide.
She ducked low, her fingers already finding the small, round object in her pocket. At the last second, she shoved it straight into the werewolf's mouth.
"Eat this," she snapped.
"BOOM!"
The creature's head exploded in a spray of blood and ash, splattering across the carriage windows.
"When did they forget," she muttered darkly, "that I don't mind using Muggle weapons?"
Her chest rose and fell hard. Then she turned and saw Darren — bloodied, smiling weakly up at her.
"Ding! Congratulations to the host for acquiring the bloodline talent: Natural Healing."
> Natural Healing: Wounds regenerate 500% faster, even from fatal injuries.
Darren accepted the reward instantly, still grinning like an idiot.
To him, Becky was shining like a jewel.
This terrifying young lady… was officially his lucky star.
"You— what are you staring at?" she barked, face flushing. "Idiot! I told you not to block spells with your body — now you're blocking bullets?!"
She lifted him effortlessly, cursing under her breath as she ran toward the front of the train.
Madam Pomfrey should be in the medical carriage — thank Merlin.
This fool wasn't dying on her watch.
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Chaos on the Hogwarts Express
"Someone's been killed!"
"Slytherins killed someone!"
"That girl — Greengrass — she blew up a man's head!"
"Slytherins are psychos!"
Panic rippled through the train. The Hogwarts Express shuddered, its speed dropping sharply as students screamed.
And when they saw Becky Greengrass sprinting past — covered in blood and carrying an unconscious boy — the rumors solidified into a single terrifying headline:
Slytherin Murder!
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Madam Pomfrey was already making rounds when the commotion reached her. She'd felt the violent jolt of the train earlier and had been moving from carriage to carriage, checking for injured students.
When she heard someone shouting that Slytherins had killed a boy, she'd prepared for the worst.
She hadn't expected this.
"Merlin's beard!" she cried as Becky burst in. "Darren Potter — again?! Who fired the shot this time?"
"If this had happened outside my care, child, you'd be dead!"
Her wand flicked in quick, practiced motions. Darren's wounds closed as she muttered healing charms under her breath.
"The shooter was a werewolf," Becky said grimly. "He's dead now."
Her voice was flat, but her fists trembled.
This boy — this stupid, reckless boy — had saved her again.
What kind of person keeps throwing himself in front of danger like that?
Her eyes softened for half a heartbeat, but she quickly forced the feeling away.
Of course. It made sense now.
That look in his eyes earlier — the warm, almost reverent way he'd stared at her — it wasn't just admiration.
It was affection.
He liked her.
The realization hit like a curse.
But it was impossible. Completely, utterly impossible.
The Greengrass family would never approve.
She was sixteen. He was eleven.
And even if he did like her now… one day, he'd grow up and forget all about her.
She pressed her lips together and leaned close, whispering sharply into his ear, "Even if I owe you another life, I'll pay it back. Don't think saving me gives you the right to climb into the Greengrass family."
Her tone was cold. Too cold.
"There are people in this world you shouldn't even dream of reaching," she added quietly. "Do yourself a favor and stay away from that line."
Darren, however, wasn't listening to a word.
He was far too fascinated by Madam Pomfrey's magic.
Healing in the wizarding world was incredible — his torn flesh knitting together in seconds.
It hadn't even been ten minutes before his back looked almost untouched.
Though honestly, thanks to his Natural Healing talent, he might've been fine without the nurse's help.
"The bullet's out," Pomfrey said briskly, handing him a vial of potion. "Drink this."
Darren grimaced. The last time he'd taken a potion like this, he'd been stuck in bed for three days and missed nine system quests.
"Drink," Pomfrey ordered, eyes narrowing. "Unless you want to start term in the hospital wing again!"
Darren sighed. There was no escaping the school healer's wrath.
Maybe just three days of rest, he thought. That's not so bad.
Becky crossed her arms, glaring at him. "Go on, Saint Potter. Drink your medicine."
For once, Darren didn't argue.
He lifted the vial, downed it in one go, and managed a weak smile.
If nearly dying twice got him this much attention from Becky Greengrass…
Maybe the pain wasn't entirely wasted.
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