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After Darren accepted the reward, he checked the antidote formula—and was stunned.

The recipe looked familiar.

It was almost identical to the current standard antidote… except for three extra herbs.

Three very common herbs.

But sohow, those three simple additions boosted the antidote's effectiveness far beyond the original.

Darren imdiately decided he'd give the formula to Paggie later—claiming he had co up with it by accident—and let Paggie "research and discover" it properly.

Then they'd apply for a patent.

Maybe he would even get an Order of rlin soday.

Darren grinned at the thought.

He glanced at the scene card next and chose not to use it yet. It felt like sothing better saved for nightti—just like the bloodline lottery he still hadn't activated.

He would use everything together tonight.

For now, Harry still needed reassurance. Harry looked moved to the point of tears, overwheld by everything Darren had told him.

Darren cleared his throat and gently interrupted Harry's spiraling thoughts about how hard Aunt Petunia might've worked all these years.

In this family, only one of them needed to be the soft-hearted one—and that was him.

He leaned toward Harry and whispered, "Brother, we're grateful to Aunt Petunia… but as for Dudley—your cousin who bullied you—I've decided to teach him a lesson."

Harry brightened.

Finally, Darren wasn't being too kind.

Then Darren added darkly, "If we run into him, I'll punch him. That'll scare him enough!"

…Ah.

Harry's excitent evaporated.

Still the sa Darren.

Nothing had changed.

The most "violent" revenge Darren could imagine was one punch.

It only confird Harry's belief: no matter how brilliant his little brother was, he still needed his older brother's help.

Harry smiled, just a bit smug.

---

"Are you two ready?"

A deep, purple-faced shout ca from ahead. Darren and Harry spun around.

"Uncle Vernon!"

Harry froze. Uncle Vernon stood directly before them—Aunt Petunia and Dudley behind him.

But Petunia's eyes were red, as if she had been crying.

Darren suspected she might have overheard part of his conversation with Harry.

He imdiately stepped forward, polite and warm, and lifted a large gift bag.

"You must be Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon," Darren said softly. "I'm Darren—Darren Potter. Since this is my first ti eting you both, I prepared these gifts."

"I don't want anything from you wizar—"

Uncle Vernon choked mid-sentence.

Because Darren pulled out a set of brand-new car keys.

"This is a new Muggle car model from England," Darren explained. "I know most n like cars. Don't worry—it's entirely non-magical. I hope you'll like it, Uncle."

Vernon stared.

He hesitated… expecting the key to turn into a frog, or explode, or sprout tentacles.

But nothing happened.

It felt real—exactly like the car keys he once gave his boss.

He stared at Darren again, ready to find sothing to criticize so he could reassert his dominance as "the adult."

But then he really looked:

Darren wore custom, hand-tailored clothing—clean, neat, with subtle embroidered patterns.

Uncle Vernon estimated the outfit was at least a thousand pounds.

Harry wore matching clothes—but Darren carried them far better.

Darren looked like a young aristocrat.

Harry… looked like Harry.

His ssy hair ruined the carefully coordinated outfit.

"Waste of good clothes," Vernon muttered under his breath.

Seeing Vernon's expression soften, Darren reached into the bag again and took out a small bottle.

That alard both Vernon and Petunia instantly.

"What is that?" Vernon barked.

Before they could stop him, Dudley eagerly grabbed the bottle.

Darren smiled. "It's a slimming potion. Very precious in the wizarding world. Drink one bottle, and you'll lose weight over the next month."

Dudley froze.

"No diets. No exercise. No side effects," Darren continued. "Of course, if you overeat afterward, the weight will co back. So self-control matters."

He added gently, "I heard Hagrid once gave Dudley a pig tail by accident. Think of this as my apology to my cousin."

[Ding! Holy Father Points 50]

[Ding! Holy Father Points 80]

[Ding! Holy Father Points 30]

[Ding! Holy Father Points 20]

Darren suspected the last twenty points ca from Harry, who was standing beside him copying Dudley's expression of pure, wild excitent.

"This… this can really make lose weight?" Dudley asked, eyes shining.

He had recently been told at school that he was dangerously overweight and would not fit into next year's uniform unless he slimd down.

And truthfully—he envied Harry's thinness. He would never admit it aloud, but he did.

"Of course," Darren said cheerfully. "Once the three of us go out together, we'll be the most handso family."

Well—he would be the most handso.

Harry was slightly behind him.

Dudley was… Dudley.

But Dudley didn't need to know that.

He hugged the potion protectively, terrified his parents might try to take it.

He wanted to drink it at ho, in perfect conditions.

And Darren wasn't done.

He took out another key—this one to a sleek, Muggle-manufactured motorcycle.

Dudley nearly scread.

"This is defined as part of my inheritance in the Muggle world," Darren said. "Consider it a welco gift. Oh—and also compensation."

"Darren," Dudley gasped, "are you really my cousin and not so rich celebrity? Why are you so loaded?!"

The boy was practically vibrating with excitent.

Harry stared too—because sohow his little brother kept getting richer, kinder, and more unbelievable.

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