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Chapter 231: Dumbledore's Gift!!
Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been taken away.
Harry remained where he was.
He had wanted to stay and wait for Darren, but the moment Professor McGonagall gave him a sharp glare, he remembered it was already curfew. He had no choice but to leave.
Only then did he notice that everyone around him was still keeping a wide distance from him.
No—Slytherin students had been standing close earlier. They only backed away after Darren was taken to Dumbledore's office.
Ron and Hermione were still by Harry's side, but both of them looked deeply worried.
"What's going on?" Harry demanded angrily. "You don't think Darren petrified Justin, do you? Darren would never—"
"No! No, Harry—we never thought Darren petrified him," Hermione cut in quickly. "What we're worried about is what you and Darren did earlier… Harry, you both spoke Parseltongue."
"Parseltongue? Talking to snakes? But—doesn't every wizard do that?" Harry said, completely bewildered.
Ron and Hermione stared at him as if he had sprouted extra heads.
Harry quickly explained the story of speaking to a boa constrictor at the zoo when he was a child.
"What? The snake told you it was from Brazil? Oh, Merlin…" Ron looked horrified. "Harry, that is not normal! That's really bad… Do you know what people are saying? After everyone heard you and Darren speak Parseltongue, a lot of students think Darren petrified Justin!"
"What? That's ridiculous!" Harry spluttered. "We were telling the snake not to bite Ernie! How can speaking snake language turn us into suspects?"
"Harry… Parseltongue is the mark of a Dark wizart," Hermione said quietly. "And Parselmouths are extremely rare. The ability is famous for belonging to Salazar Slytherin."
"What?" Harry stared at her, stunned.
"Yes," Hermione continued. "Because Salazar Slytherin could speak to snakes, the symbol of Slytherin is a serpent."
"But—I thought it was just a symbol…"
"No. Only Salazar Slytherin himself—or his descendants—were known to speak Parseltongue," Ron said grimly. "So now, people think you and Darren might be Slytherin's descendants. And Darren being sorted into Slytherin… well, they're calling it iron-clad proof."
Harry felt his stomach drop.
He thought of the Sorting Hat—of the voice whispering You would do well in Slytherin…
Was it because of bloodline?
He barely slept that night.
Over and over again he dreamed of the Sorting Hat hissing: You belong to Slytherin.
When he woke the next morning, he had dark circles so large that even Ron was startled.
Students still avoided him. Harry was furious at first, but mostly tired.
Fortunately, Darren didn't avoid him.
"Darren—you know what? We might be Slytherin's descendants. We might have his bloodline…" Harry said nervously.
"How do you know that?" Darren asked in genuine surprise.
But Darren quickly realised: it must be people talking after last night's Parseltongue incident.
Harry explained, and Darren sighed, patting his shoulder.
"That's impossible. The Potter family never intermarried with the Slytherins. So you're definitely not."
Harry looked troubled. "But we're twins. If you have it, then I—"
Cough.
Darren looked at him with sympathy. He honestly couldn't remember how many "cub" levels he had accumulated now. And yes—he did have Slytherin blood. But Harry didn't.
Before long, Christmas arrived.
Harry and Darren signed the Hogwarts holiday book to stay over the break. Ron and Hermione did the same.
"Good thing everyone's gone," Harry muttered. "At least we won't have to deal with those horrified looks… Darren, how are you not angry?"
"Why would I be angry?" Darren asked, smiling softly. "They're afraid. That's natural. Even if we know we'd never hurt anyone, they don't. So I've been avoiding them too—I don't want to scare them."
> [Ding! Father +100]
[Ding! Father +100]
[Ding! Father +100]
Darren's expression was gentle and relieved, as if none of it bothered him at all. He was still the same Darren—lighthearted, kind, and untouched by the gloom.
Harry sighed. "Honestly, Darren… you're always too kind."
Christmas morning.
Darren woke up slowly and pulled open the curtains around his bed.
His bed was piled high with gifts—candy, books, and even new Muggle anime merchandise. Unlike Harry, Darren wasn't isolated at all.
Being in Slytherin changed everything.
Rather than fearing him, the Slytherins were awestruck. They had never imagined the Potter family carried Slytherin blood, and even students who rarely spoke to him were now greeting him awkwardly.
To them, Darren was becoming a point of pride.
Even though Darren couldn't have looked less like a stereotypical Slytherin—he was far too kind—they had already embraced the idea.
Malfoy, however, was furious. Every time he saw Darren lately, he twitched violently, as though personally offended by the universe.
Darren suspected he was thinking: How can the Potter twins exist, and only one of them has Slytherin blood? Completely unfair!
But even so, the Malfoy family still sent three gifts:
Narcissa gave a thick winter robe.
Lucius sent a pure-blood family genealogy.
Draco sent him a brand-new Nimbus 2001.
Darren stared at the broom with disgust. The thing he hated most at the moment was Quidditch.
Snape sent him boots lined with warming charms. As soon as Darren put them on, he almost melted—he didn't want to take them off.
Of course, Mrs Weasley sent her traditional sweater and homemade fudge.
While sorting the rest of his gifts, Darren found one from Dumbledore.
It was a blank piece of parchment.
Underneath, written in Dumbledore's elegant looping script:
> "This is from your godfather. He thought you might need it."
Godfather?
He had a godfather?
Darren froze.
Sirius Black?
No—it couldn't be. Sirius hadn't escaped yet. And even if he had, he wouldn't have slipped a gift to Dumbledore.
Then…
Lupin?
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