---
Chapter 241 — Bloodline Hidden Agent!!
What was a Bloodline Hidden Agent?
Did it hide a person's bloodline?
But—
[Accept]
The moment Darren clicked the task prompt, panic flashed across his face.
He hurriedly jumped out of the bed, clearly trying to stop Madam Pomfrey.
But he'd forgotten the state of his body. The instant he stood, his legs gave out, and he crashed to the floor.
"—Ah!"
He sucked in a sharp breath as pain shot up his side.
Madam Pomfrey gasped and rushed to help him up.
He opened his mouth to thank her, but the system task flashed in his mind—he thought of Harry—and forced down the pain.
He looked up at her with trembling worry.
"Madam Pomfrey… I–I'm fine. Please don't tell Professor McGonagall. She'll take points from my brother… and then everyone will laugh at him again, like last year…"
His voice grew small.
"Please don't blame them. They didn't mean it. It really was careless of me."
He shook his head, anxious.
"I—I did taste it. I smelled the alcohol. It was my own greed. I drank too much. If anyone should be punished, punish me. It has nothing to do with my brother or Hermione.
Please… it's my fault. I should've known better."
[Ding — Congratulations, host has obtained Bloodline Hidden Agent]
The explanation flashed through his mind:
Bloodline Hidden Agent (Auto-Fusion)
A subtle spiritual agent that hides all traces of the host's bloodline.
However—when encountering someone who shares that bloodline, it will deliberately reveal the connection.
Darren froze.
What?!
It was that smart?
Didn't this basically announce his bloodline to anyone related to him?
And before, the system made him call out "Dad" around Death Eaters and nearly got him killed.
He swallowed hard.
Please don't let the system go crazy again…
He sighed quietly.
His face remained pitiful and soft—enough that Madam Pomfrey's anger finally melted.
She shot a fierce glare toward the hospital wing entrance.
"You three—did you hear that? If any of you dare pull a prank like this again, I will go to Professor McGonagall and let her deal with you!"
Three?
Darren blinked and turned.
Sure enough—Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood just outside.
"Brother…" Darren murmured, embarrassed.
If he'd handled this better earlier, Madame Pomfrey wouldn't have misunderstood them.
Thankfully, she forgave them in the end.
"Oh, Darren, you're always so kind!"
Hermione rushed forward and hugged him tightly—until Ron shoved her aside.
"Oi! Don't hog him! I'm hugging him too—Darren's too lovable."
He wrapped Darren in a dramatic, almost tearful embrace.
Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked Ron on the arm.
Ron gaped.
"What? What'd I do? Every time! She never wants to hug me or Harry—only Darren! Isn't that weird?"
He threw his hands up.
Harry snorted; Hermione pretended she didn't hear.
"Anyway, Darren—are you really okay?" Harry asked anxiously. "You were asleep for so long in the common room. I was worried sick…"
"Well, of course the boy's fine. Are you questioning my medical skills?"
Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "But listen—Darren is not allowed to drink. And neither are any of you. Minors!"
Her glare was sharp enough to slice through stone.
"Madam Pomfrey, don't blame my brother again…"
Darren pleaded softly.
The matron stiffened, then finally sighed through her nose and stomped away deeper into the infirmary.
Ron let out a long breath.
"She's as scary as McGonagall now… Blimey—what's this?"
He suddenly spotted something under Darren's pillow.
Curious, he grabbed it.
A pink card.
On the front, in neat but childish handwriting:
"Dear Darren,
I hope you get better soon.
Love,
Ginny."
"GINNY?!"
Ron yelped.
"How did Ginny even get this here?!"
She hadn't gone home that year, but still—no one told her Darren was in the infirmary.
Yet she managed to slip him a card.
"I don't know," Darren said with a smile. "But Ginny's so sweet. She's always thoughtful."
He tucked the card into his pocket carefully.
Ron pulled a face.
"Yeah, well—that's a girl thing. We blokes don't do stuff like that. Darren, you're too gentle. If a girl gave ME that, I'd chuck it!"
Darren pursed his lips.
Who would give Ron anything to begin with?
But he swallowed the thought and instead said firmly:
"Ron, don't say that. It's someone's kindness. People who like me give these things because they care. People who don't like me… wouldn't give me anything at all!"
He looked properly upset.
Ron blinked at his scolding expression.
Harry nodded quickly, ready to back Darren up—but Hermione suddenly glared at him so sharply he froze mid-sentence.
Hermione huffed:
"Darren, people mean well, yes. But some gifts are just impractical. Cards can't be eaten, can't be used—she should've sent something useful. Like a new set of robes."
Ron exploded.
"HERMIONE! Are you saying my sister gave a BAD card?!"
He might insult Ginny—but no one else could.
"Oh, Ron, I'm not targeting Ginny," Hermione said loftily. "I'm simply stating facts.
And Ginny likes too many people. She liked Harry. Now she likes Darren. It's not good. Maybe you should talk to her about that."
Ron choked.
---