Chapter 3 — The Lost Potter
Snape's voice dropped to a low murmur.
Darren exhaled, finally letting out the breath he'd been holding. He nodded stiffly, his eyes lingering on Kenley's unconscious form.
Well… that was karma, wasn't it?
Kenley had killed the original Darren by pushing him down the stairs. Now the tables had turned.
If this were a novel, Kenley would probably be the one transmigrating right about now.
Darren sighed and shook his head, stepping back. As he moved, his foot accidentally came down on Kenley's face.
The soft thud made him wince; he stumbled, nearly losing his balance.
Snape turned sharply, startled by the movement. He caught sight of Darren's pale, terrified expression and instantly assumed the boy hadn't meant it.
The child looked so frightened, so small—it was clear he wasn't being cruel, just overwhelmed.
Snape's frown softened. "Foolish boy," he muttered under his breath. "Terrified of his own shadow…"
He looked down at Kenley again. The boy would be fine once he reached St. Mungo's. A concussion at worst—nothing the Healers couldn't fix. The Ministry would probably Obliviate his memories anyway.
Then Snape's sharp gaze cut back to Darren.
"If your brain isn't made of troll slime," he said dryly, "you'd realize it's time to rest instead of loitering around like a baboon."
Ah, there it was—the infamous Snape tone: one part venom, two parts superiority.
Darren bit back a sigh. Classic. Knife for a tongue, heart made of stone.
Still, he forced a shy smile and resisted the urge to call him "old bat" out loud.
Snape noticed that hesitant smile—and the way Darren's bright green eyes dimmed at his harsh tone.
For a moment, he froze.
Those eyes…
So like hers.
Lily's eyes.
Lily, who had been strong and brave, who'd protected others even when terrified. Lily, who had once smiled at him with that same trembling kindness.
His chest tightened.
"Lily…" he whispered, almost inaudibly. "If you could see him now… you'd be happy to know he survived."
Without another word, Snape reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded letter. He hesitated—his fingers tightening—then handed it to Darren.
His tone was forced, brittle with restraint. "Take it. It's from Dumbledore."
Darren blinked, confused, as Snape continued:
"You're… a new student at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a school of witchcraft and wizardry. Your mother's name is Lily—Lily Potter. And you have an older brother. Harry Potter."
For a moment, Darren just stared at him, completely dumbfounded.
"…What?"
He barely heard the rest. His mind short-circuited at the words Harry Potter.
Lily Potter? His mother?
Harry Potter? His brother?
Then what—did that make James Potter his dad?!
Snape's lips twisted as he said "James Potter," his voice dripping with disgust, and that was somehow what made it real.
Darren almost wanted to laugh.
"How could I possibly be Harry Potter's little brother? He didn't even have one in the original books!"
Then his eyes dropped to the letter Snape had stuffed into his hands.
Maybe Snape was joking? Or maybe this was some elaborate prank by Fred and George, using Polyjuice Potion to mess with him.
Either way, he needed to check before saying something stupid.
He tore the envelope open and scanned the handwriting. Elegant. Looping. Distinctly Dumbledore.
Just as described in the novels.
The more he read, the colder he felt.
According to Dumbledore's letter, when Lily was pregnant, she'd been captured by Death Eaters. They had experimented on her—forcing her to take potions and spells meant to test magical endurance.
She survived, barely. But something unexpected happened.
When she gave birth, there were two babies instead of one. Twins.
Harry came first.
Then, one minute later, Darren.
No one knew what those experiments might've done, but Lily refused to harm the babies. She gave birth to both and hid the truth from almost everyone.
But tragedy struck immediately.
When Death Eaters raided St. Mungo's, they captured the newborn Darren. Sirius fought them off but couldn't save both. Darren was taken.
The Death Eaters had planned to use him in a ritual to bind a servant to Voldemort for life. To protect the child, Dumbledore and the Order spread false news—that the Potters had only one son.
Angered at being tricked, the Death Eaters abandoned Darren, tossing him into the chaos of a battle zone between Aurors and their own forces.
By the time Sirius and James arrived, the baby was gone.
Then came that fateful Halloween night. James and Lily were killed. Sirius was imprisoned. And Darren's fate was sealed in silence.
For ten years, Dumbledore and Snape had quietly searched, never finding a trace. They had long believed Darren was dead.
Until—half an hour ago—his name appeared in the Hogwarts Enrollment Ledger.
Dumbledore had written this letter in a rush and sent Snape to deliver it personally.
Half an hour ago…
That was exactly when Darren got his system.
He stared down at the letter, lips twitching.
"So… there really was a Darren Potter in this world. Only… the original one died after Kenley pushed him."
And now, he was standing in that boy's place.
At the bottom of the letter was another envelope—his official Hogwarts acceptance letter.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class; Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1.
We await your owl no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Darren stared at the parchment for a long moment.
"So I'm… Darren Potter now," he murmured.
The lost Potter.
Harry's little brother.
He sighed. "This world just keeps getting crazier."
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