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Chapter 85 — Piles of Gifts
"I'm going to teach him a lesson one day, I swear!"
After Snape deducted points, Ron was furious. He jabbed a finger toward Malfoy's retreating back, clearly wanting to launch himself at him.
"Teach who?"
Hagrid appeared behind them, hauling a fir tree over his shoulder for Christmas.
"Malfoy—and Snape! I hate them both!" Harry grumbled through clenched teeth.
"Huh? Where're Darren and Hermione?"
Hagrid looked behind them, puzzled.
If Darren had been there, Snape might not have taken points.
"They went straight to the library after class," Harry explained.
"Library? Those two are really hardworking!"
"No, no," Harry said quickly, "they're looking for Nicolas Flamel. We haven't found anything after checking nearly a hundred books… Hagrid, could you maybe—uh—give us a little hint?"
Hagrid practically leapt back.
"Stop that! I'm not tellin' yeh anything! And yeh stay out of this!"
"Well then we'll find it ourselves!" Ron said stubbornly, dragging Harry toward the library.
They'd already been reading stacks of books:
Modern Magical History,
Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century,
Famous Wizards of Our Time,
Studies in Contemporary Magical Development…
All useless.
It was like Nicolas Flamel didn't exist.
Which made no sense. How could someone connected to Dumbledore be a nobody?
Of course, they hadn't truly read everything—Hogwarts' library was huge. Countless volumes. And if Flamel's name was in the Restricted Section, they wouldn't be able to access it anyway.
Darren sat quietly beside Hermione, flipping through books just as obediently as she demanded.
Of course, he already knew who Nicolas Flamel was.
But he wasn't going to tell them.
What if this was part of Dumbledore's script?
Besides, he hadn't even collected a Chocolate Frog card of Flamel yet—too suspicious to know the name early.
After a long while, Hermione finally sighed.
"It looks like we'll have to continue after the holiday. When school starts again, we can check more books. If you find anything in the meantime, owl me right away!"
"No problem!" Ron nodded, then added, "We could also ask our parents. Though… is that safe?"
"Of course it's safe—they're Muggles," Hermione snapped. "Nothing gets to Hogwarts from them."
Then she hugged Darren, her voice soft and a bit sad.
"I'm heading home. Don't let anyone bully you here."
"How could that happen? Darren has us!" Harry said proudly, thumping his chest.
Ron quickly agreed.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the both of them.
"Well… if you don't mind, I'll go. See you after the holiday."
She released Darren and walked away, clearly still annoyed.
"What's wrong with her?" Ron muttered. "Why is she angry? And why'd she hug Darren but not us? Did we do something?"
Harry shrugged, his mind already on the holiday.
"Yeah, yeah, don't think too much. Come on, Darren—wizard chess?"
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Before Christmas, Darren spent his days playing with Harry and Ron until late.
When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed he'd turned into a giant tortoise, lumbering across the earth, suffocating with every step.
He woke up exhausted.
He wiped sweat from his forehead—then froze.
His bed was buried in gifts.
Completely buried.
Some had even fallen to the floor.
No wonder he felt crushed.
"Who sent all this…?"
Darren sat up, staring.
He had received over a hundred gifts.
Most were candies. Nearly all from girls.
He began doubting his entire personality—did he look like someone who ate sweets nonstop?
The rest were more… serious.
Percy had sent him 10% of a Light Wheel Company Firebolt-branch investment, apparently bought with three thousand Galleons, courtesy of the old Potter family vault.
Professor Flitwick gave him a copy of Charm-Casting Tips.
Professor McGonagall sent Things You Don't Know About Quidditch.
And Harry had bought him a pet cat.
A small milky-white kitten who immediately curled into Darren's arms and went to sleep.
Darren named her Lezi — meaning lazy — because she clearly was.
There were four gifts left.
The first was from Snape: an invisibility cloak.
When Darren tried it, it worked—his body vanished—
but a simple Revealment Charm exposed the outline.
Definitely not the Potter family cloak.
"Harry Potter received one. You may need one too. Do not use it for mischief."
…Great.
Snape had clearly inspected Harry's presents one by one.
Darren set the cloak aside and opened another package.
Inside was a thick hand-knitted sweater, warm and soft.
A bright green one—perfect Slytherin colors.
He pulled it on, finding a large stitched D on the front.
Clearly made just for him.
A pouch of homemade milk toffee was tucked inside as well. Darren tasted one—and instantly fell in love.
He immediately wanted to write to Mrs. Weasley and beg for more.
There was a note:
"Child, Ron told me about you. Poor dear. Come play at the Burrow after the holiday.
Love, Molly."
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