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Chapter Ninety-Two
Brother Believes in You!!
"Nicole Flamel is here!"
The four of them hurried into an empty classroom, shut the door, and spoke in hushed, excited whispers. Hermione suddenly froze, her eyes widening.
"I remember now! I did read the name somewhere — it was in Hogwarts: A History! Last time, Darren said he was going to check that book, but I told him I'd already read it and he didn't need to. Darren, you're right about everything!"
She looked at him with pure admiration.
Darren flushed, shaking his head quickly.
"I was only thinking about looking. I never actually did."
"I misled you! If I hadn't, we would've found this ages ago! Darren, you must be exhausted — and you've gotten thinner!"
Hermione spoke with tragic sincerity.
Ron visibly bristled.
"What do you mean Darren's tired and thin? We've all been reading with him — why aren't we tired and thin?!"
"Yeah! How can Darren be worn out? I watch him every day," Harry grumbled. "He was even getting rounder two days ago, and then suddenly he's slim again. I saw him sneaking sweets — that's why he's thin!"
"No, no, I'm the same as always," Darren protested immediately.
In truth, he had over-eaten for a while and plumped up a bit. The moment he saw it in the mirror, he cut back drastically. He refused to become a chubby little saint running around earning Father's Value. The mental image alone horrified him.
"Alright, enough, Darren says he isn't, so he isn't!"
Hermione waved the boys off irritably.
Then she sprinted to the dormitory, returned with an enormous textbook, and slammed it on the table with a thunderous bang.
"This book has been in my dorm all this time — and I never even thought to open it!"
She flipped rapidly through the pages until she found what she wanted. Tapping the paragraph, she read aloud:
"'Nicolas Flamel is the alchemist who created the Philosopher's Stone.'"
She dramatically lowered her voice at Philosopher's Stone, though neither Harry nor Ron understood why.
"What's that?" they asked blankly.
"Sounds like a rock," Ron added.
Hermione rolled her eyes so hard Darren feared they might get stuck.
"The Philosopher's Stone can turn any metal into gold, and it produces the Elixir of Life. Nicolas Flamel celebrated his six hundred sixty-fifth birthday last year," she explained, exasperated. "Understood?"
Harry and Ron stared at her — and then their eyes lit up.
"Turn metal into gold? Then I'd be the richest wizard alive!"
"If we had that Stone, the Galleons in Darren's vault wouldn't matter anymore!"
They were practically vibrating with excitement. Neither of them cared at all about immortality yet — only gold.
Hermione looked hopeless.
So she turned to Darren for sanity.
Darren smiled sheepishly and sweetly… while privately thinking:
The ability to make unlimited gold… that really is incredible. If I could do that, I wouldn't have to worry about money ever again. Though… sitting on a mountain and eating it away is a bit scary.
And then—
If Flamel is planning to destroy the Stone… couldn't he give it to me first?
His fingers itched.
But outwardly he remained the picture of innocence.
"Since we've finally figured it out," Darren said warmly, "everyone should rest. Hermione, you have dark circles; Brother and Ron haven't slept well either."
[Ding, Father +80]
[Ding, Father +90]
[Ding, Father +90]
The three of them were instantly moved. Hearing Darren worry about them made their exhaustion melt like snow.
"Yeah, but it's really Hermione who's worn out — and her giant dark circles are hilarious!" Ron added, pointing at her.
Darren sighed internally.
Child… you truly do not understand women. Good luck in your next life.
Fortunately, Hermione exercised restraint and did not murder him on the spot.
The upcoming Quidditch match soon took over their attention.
Plans about the Philosopher's Stone dissolved into Harry's growing dread.
When match day finally arrived, Harry looked miserable.
His friends tried to reassure him, but the way they hovered over him made him feel like he was marching off to war.
The only one who genuinely comforted him was Darren.
He held his wand tightly and said with earnest seriousness:
"Brother, don't worry. If anyone tries to hurt you, I will run straight to Professor Snape and help him catch the culprit!"
Harry stared at him.
He wanted to say:
Darren… Snape is the culprit.
He didn't need Darren running into Snape's arms — Snape might grab Darren and use him as leverage! But Darren never believed Snape could be bad.
So Harry forced a smile.
"Brother believes in you. Just sit in the stands — I'll be fine."
Brother is terrified you'll deliver yourself into the enemy's hands, Harry thought miserably.
Darren, completely misunderstanding, nodded enthusiastically.
He genuinely believed Harry would be perfectly fine.
When he finally sat in the stands, he noticed Malfoy at the front, whispering excitedly to Crabbe and Goyle. The way Malfoy kept glancing sideways…
He was clearly plotting something.
And his target seemed to be Neville — who had decided to sit beside Ron and Hermione today.
Looking at Malfoy's expression, Darren instantly knew:
Malfoy wanted to pick on Neville again.
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