---
Darren still couldn't figure out why anyone would attack Malfoy. He wanted to press for answers, but Draco was already scowling.
"Don't ask ," Malfoy said sharply. "How should I know? Ask Professor Snape if you're so curious."
He crossed his arms, then hesitated.
"…But if you really want to know," he muttered, "I could write to my father. He might tell sothing."
That offer caught Darren by surprise. Malfoy, helping?
He smiled faintly, but before he could reply, Draco's gaze flicked to his arm.
"You're hurt," Draco said suddenly. "Why are you hiding it?"
Darren blinked. This kid's sharper than he looks.
---
[Ding! Detected: Holy Father Scenario Triggered.]
[Mission: When Malfoy grabs your arm, release a drop of your blood to touch the back of his hand.]
[Reward: 1000 Holy Points.]
---
Not much of a prize, but Darren smirked inwardly.
"Fine, System," he thought. "Let's make Lucius Malfoy lose his mind."
He drew in a shaky breath, feigning weakness.
"N-No, I'm fine, Malfoy. I just need to return Neville's crystal ball."
He started to move past him, staggering slightly. Draco reached out instinctively—and grabbed his arm right over the wound.
Darren hissed in pain. In one smooth motion, he squeezed the gash with his other hand, forcing a bead of blood to well up, then flicked it subtly onto Draco's skin.
A single red drop landed on the back of Malfoy's pale hand.
Before Draco could notice, Darren pulled away, pretending to be angry.
"Don't go too far, Malfoy!"
[Ding! Holy Father Value 1000.]
Perfect.
He could already imagine what chaos this would cause once the elder Malfoy found out.
---
Draco frowned at Darren's retreating back. Sothing didn't add up.
When he'd grabbed Darren's arm, he'd slled blood. The copper tang was unmistakable.
He looked down at his hand—the faintest sar of red still glistened there.
He was injured. Badly.
So why didn't Darren go to the Hospital Wing?
Suspicion gnawed at him. Eventually, Draco returned to his dormitory, pulled out a polished two-way mirror, and called his father.
---
"Father, I need your help," he said quietly.
Lucius Malfoy's pale, elegant face appeared in the mirror, eyes narrowing.
"Draco? Shouldn't you be in class—or at least pretending to study?"
"I finished breakfast. But I saw sothing strange today…"
He explained everything — the hex, Darren's injury, and the blood.
Lucius's expression grew sharp.
"Bring a sample of his blood."
Draco blinked. "His blood? Why?"
"If a wizard hides an injury," Lucius said coolly, "there's often a reason. Either the wound carries a curse... or the blood itself holds secrets. I can determine which."
Draco frowned. How was he supposed to get Darren's blood? Snape would never let him into another student's dorm without permission.
Then Lucius frowned suddenly. "Draco… are you injured?"
"No, of course not, Father—"
Lucius's gaze dropped. "Then why," he said slowly, "is there blood on your hand?"
Draco looked down, startled. A single drop remained there, faint but distinct.
"Oh," he said quickly. "It must've co from Darren."
Lucius smiled thinly. "Perfect. Collect it. I'll handle the rest."
---
By early afternoon, Lucius received a small package from his house-elf, Eder. Inside, a vial containing one crimson drop of blood shimred faintly in the light.
He set it on his desk beside his wand.
"Let's see what you're hiding, little Potter," he murmured.
He activated a Bloodline Detection Charm, an old and complex spell designed to trace the ancestry of magical families.
The blood lifted into the air, glowing with deep red light. Then—
It split.
Several filants of bloodlight extended in different directions, pointing toward distant lineages. But one—one stream of light—curved sharply and struck straight toward him.
Lucius froze.
The drop shimred, fell onto his wrist… and rged into his skin.
The magic recognized him.
Lucius's eyes widened. "rlin's beard…"
Across the mirror, Draco's astonished face mirrored his own.
"Father," Draco said slowly, "you're sure the spell traces true bloodlines?"
Lucius swallowed hard. "It has never failed. Not once."
"Then," Draco said, half amused, half horrified, "doesn't that an Darren Potter is—"
"My—" Lucius began, but the words caught in his throat.
No. Impossible.
He hadn't—he couldn't have—been with Lily Potter.
And yet… the blood didn't lie.
---
Lucius slumped back in his chair, pale as parchnt.
"Father," Draco said weakly, "I suppose this ans I have another brother."
Lucius pressed a hand to his temple. "Draco… fetch so Firewhisky."
He exhaled shakily, muttering to himself.
"Lily Potter… I swear I never…" He stopped.
Unless—
Could it have happened when I was cursed? When my mory was broken during the war…?
His fingers trembled.
"rlin help ," Lucius whispered. "What in Salazar's na happened back then?"
---
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