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"Dumbledore? How did you end up here?"
Nicolas Flal returned with the fishing rod, full of energy and still annoyed he hadn't even caught a fish yet.
"Ah, I'm here to see Darren… Darren, you don't look well. Did sothing happen?"
Dumbledore's expression was deeply concerned.
He worried that Flal might have tricked him earlier—and that perhaps Flal didn't actually like Darren as much as he let on.
"No… no, I just… I'm just worried about the teacher's health… about the teacher…"
Darren's voice trembled with a lancholy sincerity.
He looked truly anxious about Nicolas Flal.
But if one looked closely, it seed like he was hiding sothing else entirely.
"Well, don't worry about that. I can still live quite a while… That boy over there caught coughing earlier and beca all distressed."
Flal sighed helplessly, assuming Darren was simply being sentintal.
He didn't know Darren deeply enough to notice the discomfort under the surface.
Dumbledore, however, noticed everything.
His eyes sharpened. Sothing under Darren's robes seed… off.
"Darren," Dumbledore said gently but firmly, "what are you hiding under your robe?"
Darren flinched and took a step back in panic.
He clutched his robe tighter.
"No—nothing! It's just… it's just not flattened properly. Yes—just wrinkled!"
He stuttered uncontrollably, then imdiately tried to turn and flee.
But both Dumbledore and Flal caught him by the arms.
"Darren," Flal said weakly, acting every bit the frail ancient wizard, "I'm old… I probably won't live much longer. You wouldn't really hide things from , would you?"
The pitiful old-man voice hit Darren like a curse.
His eyes reddened instantly.
He hated life-and-death talk more than anything.
But he still tried desperately to cover the item in his arms.
"Teacher, you'll be fine. I'll find a way—I'll definitely invent sothing stronger than the Philosopher's Stone! I'll make sure you continue living!"
[Ding, Father 50]
[Ding, Father 80]
Neither Dumbledore nor Flal gave the full Father value—they were too focused on whatever Darren was hiding.
Seeing soft emotions weren't enough, Dumbledore abruptly pointed toward the door.
"Darren, look over there—Perenelle fell!"
"Where? Where? I'm go—yes—!"
Before Darren could finish, Dumbledore flicked his wand and snatched the contract hidden in Darren's robes.
Darren lunged for it, but too late.
Dumbledore unfolded it—and froze.
"Two hundred thousand Galleons…? Darren, who forced you into this?!"
He and Flal were instantly furious.
How could Darren owe anyone money?
This boy was so obedient he barely spent a Knut—not even on himself.
And now he owed two hundred thousand Galleons?
"I… I…" Darren struggled to invent a believable lie.
Dumbledore's patience evaporated.
"If you don't tell , I'll go to Beauxbatons and investigate myself. Soone dared bully you? I'll find out."
"No, no—Professor Dumbledore, no one bullied ! It's just…"
Darren's face burned red.
"I saw Miss Dracul being chased today… She dropped her necklace… it looked very expensive… she seed really sad. I wanted to help her… So we signed that contract…"
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
Both old wizards fell silent, stunned.
Their voices trembled slightly.
They didn't know the necklace was a scam.
They thought it was real.
But even if it hadn't been—the child's heart was undeniable.
Flal let out a long breath and managed a small laugh.
"Well, Albus, stop scaring the boy. I'll repay it for him—"
"No, teacher!" Darren shook his head fiercely.
"I can't use your money. I know what I did was foolish. People will laugh when they hear I paid soone else's debts."
"But I made the promise myself.
So I must shoulder the responsibility myself."
"Even if two hundred thousand Galleons… sounds terrifying… I'll find a way. I'll work hard and repay it myself."
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
Dumbledore and Flal froze again.
They had assud Darren acted without thinking.
But clearly—he understood.
He understood the consequences.
He knew people would call him stupid.
He knew what such a debt ant.
And he chose to bear it alone anyway.
"Darren," Dumbledore said softly, "I once told you that love is the greatest force in the world."
"But… love doesn't just an loving others.
It also ans loving yourself."
"Darren… please love yourself a little more."
Darren nodded dutifully.
Which only made Dumbledore's heart ache more.
This child always placed others above himself—
taking curses for them,
blocking spells for them,
even carrying massive debts for them.
But never once stopping to consider his own well-being.
"Darren, at this point… I don't know what to say."
Dumbledore sighed.
"So—I'll write all of this in a letter and send it to Harry. Maybe he can help you understand where you went wrong."
Darren's mouth twitched.
Seriously?
Dumbledore was going to report him?
The man could probably even write a letter to Voldemort's father if he wanted—
or to Remus Daddy,
or Lucius Daddy…
Write to them all!
Darren rolled his eyes internally, deeply offended by Dumbledore's snitching instincts.
But outwardly, he put on a wounded expression.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, please… don't write to my brother. He'll worry…"
"He'll even try to help pay the debt… I don't want to trouble him with my mistakes…"
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
"Oh, Darren… I'm afraid I must refuse."
Dumbledore shook his head firmly.
"Because this ti, I need you to learn to love yourself. And perhaps Harry can help you do that."
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