Chapter 448
Fleur was devastated.
She had never thought Darren's situation could be this bad.
And she felt it was all her fault.
"Well, I can eat at school, don't worry about me… and I still have my brother.
My brother is very kind to me. He knew I didn't have money, so he gave me a lot.
My classmates too—they sent me plenty of Galleons last Christmas. I'm not short of money at all, so don't worry!"
Not one word of this convinced Fleur.
She had heard a Slytherin girl muttering that Darren had donated all that gold to someone else.
Donated…
The thought alone made her chest ache.
But—
"Don't worry. I came to take part in the Triwizard Tournament this time, and I'll definitely take first place in the end!"
"Those Galleons were split in two anyway… you still have to eat, right?"
That, at least, made Fleur smile again.
She pushed the bowl of fish stew toward him.
"Try this. It's our specialty."
Darren tasted it with curiosity.
Then he decided, very firmly, that French food was far better than English.
"Do you want more?" Fleur asked with a grin.
Before Darren could even nod, she had already gone to another table to ask for another plate.
"Drink a bit more. You Hogwarts students are so generous—you give things so easily when I ask."
Darren was helpless.
The students might have been generous, sure… but they were definitely generous because Fleur was beautiful.
He had seen it with his own eyes.
Fleur hadn't even finished speaking before several boys were already pushing their bowls toward her without a second thought.
Then they watched in silence as she placed the soup neatly in front of Darren.
Only then did they realize what had happened.
More than one of them slapped his own thigh in regret.
But none of them dared to speak up.
They could only sit there and watch Darren drink every drop of the soup they had "donated."
"Tch. Seducing people with your looks."
Cassandra muttered coldly.
Darren was sure Fleur had heard her, but Fleur's smile only widened.
Clearly, being criticized by another girl was something she took as a compliment.
Darren pretended not to see or hear anything and buried his head in his food.
A table full of foreign dishes beat takeaway by a mile.
By the time he finally leaned back and touched his stomach in satisfaction, Dumbledore had already waved his wand.
In an instant, every plate was swept clean.
The tablecloths were spotless once more.
Dumbledore clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
"Children, the long-awaited moment has arrived. Bring in the box."
He spoke to a wizard Darren didn't recognize—the man Crouch had brought along.
"Before the box is presented, I believe our referee, Mr. Ludo Bagman, would like to say a few words."
Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, gave an enthusiastic speech.
He then announced that the judging panel would consist of Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, and Mr. Crouch.
When each name was called, the heads of the other judges rose with polite smiles.
Only Crouch remained stiff and cold.
He didn't look like he had any interest in speaking at all.
The contrast was striking—but no one commented.
Soon, Ludo yielded the floor to Dumbledore.
By then, the wizard had already carried in the box and passed it to Filch.
Dumbledore nodded.
Filch handed it over solemnly.
It was a large jewelled chest.
Ancient and solemn-looking.
"This year's tournament," Dumbledore began, "has been reviewed in advance by Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch. There will be three tasks—"
He spoke at length, and the entire hall listened breathlessly.
Then, at last, he opened the box.
A single object was lifted out.
A cup.
"This," Dumbledore said, "is the Goblet of Fire. Each contestant will write their name and their school and place it inside."
"To prevent underage students from being tempted beyond reason, I will draw an age line in front of it—"
"Oh, come on!"
"That's unfair!"
"We're only missing it by a few months!"
Fred and George protested loudly.
The professors just laughed.
Their chances were already gone.
There was nothing to debate.
And so the feast ended.
Darren walked out with Cassandra and the rest of them.
He was already half-asleep.
Normally, he'd have gone straight back to the dormitory by now.
Instead, he had to sit through another one of Dumbledore's speeches.
All things he already knew.
When they reached the doors, Darren spotted Karkaroff, Krum, and several others walking toward them.
He sighed quietly.
Then Karkaroff noticed him.
He frowned, studied him for a moment, then finally spoke.
"Darren… Darren Potter?"
Darren raised a brow.
So he didn't recognize Harry, but he knew him?
"I've seen your photograph in the papers. You're Harry Potter's brother," Karkaroff said, his tone sharp.
Darren curled his lips.
He had no interest in talking to a man who was destined to fall with the Dark Arts.
Before he could walk away, a harsh voice cut through the air.
"Karkaroff. I suggest you leave. Now."
Moody.
His eye fixed on Karkaroff like a weapon.
Karkaroff took a step back at once.
It was like he had just come face to face with something terrifying.
And in his panic, he stepped right on Harry's foot.
"Ah—sorry—"
He stopped mid-sentence when he looked up.
And saw the scar.
"You… you're Harry Potter!"
Harry scratched his head awkwardly.
He looked at Darren and sighed.
One more person staring at his scar.
"Move along, all of you! Don't stand around here!"
Professor McGonagall's sharp voice snapped through the air.
Darren nodded and hurried out through the castle doors.
And yawned fiercely.
The next day.
Darren had just entered the Great Hall when Fred and George came running over, grinning like conspirators.
"Darren! Look at this Ageing Potion! Malfoy sold it to us. Said it was a secret family formula, cost us a fortune!"
They didn't seem worried at all about what would happen if Dumbledore found out.
Darren took the bottle and sniffed it.
"It's a bit better than the usual stuff on the market," he said honestly.
"But it won't fool Dumbledore's Age Line."
Fred and George refused to give up.
"So we just wasted our money?"
"What if it works? Worst case, it's just detention."
They looked excited rather than worried.
Darren stopped persuading them.
He simply stood to one side.
He claimed he was concerned.
In truth?
He was just there to watch the show.
In the original story, they ended up as two white-bearded old men.
And Darren didn't intend to miss that again.