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Chapter 431 — Not Hungry?!!
The moment Malfoy finished speaking, Harry's fist flew.
The two of them crashed into each other and rolled across the floor.
Darren instinctively moved to stop them, but Ron grabbed his arm.
"Don't bother," Ron said calmly. "Those two won't seriously hurt each other. At worst, they'll break their noses. Madam Pomfrey will fix it with a wave of her wand."
Then Ron hesitated before lowering his voice.
"There's something else… Hermione's basically on a hunger strike."
Darren froze.
"What?"
"She heard Nearly Headless Nick last night," Ron explained. "The food at Hogwarts is all made by house-elves. And none of them get paid."
"She hasn't eaten since last night.
This morning she was already hungry… but she's trying to protest for house-elf rights."
Darren stared at him in shock.
House-elf rights… why tell him this?
Was Ron trying to drag him into the mess?
Or worse—
Did Hermione expect him to join her in starving himself?
Darren immediately thought of Paige.
His heartbeat skipped.
If Hermione ever found out that he didn't pay Paige…
She would probably force him to work part-time to compensate her.
Or worse—
Start an intervention.
Darren sighed internally.
He had always known this day would come.
And if Ron hadn't told him, he could have safely pretended nothing was going on.
He could still look pure.
Still look innocent.
Still look… like the perfect Holy Father.
But now that he knew?
He couldn't ignore it.
And if he reacted too mildly…
People would start doubting his persona.
Which meant—
He had to react even more intensely than Hermione.
So Ron would never tell him things like this again.
Darren turned to Ron slowly.
His eyebrows knitted together.
His face filled with disbelief.
"We eat the food made by house-elves… and they don't get paid?"
Ron stiffened.
"I—no, I mean—uh… Darren, most people don't think about it…"
He immediately realized how stupid that sounded.
How could Darren not think about it?
What shocked Ron wasn't Darren's reaction.
It was that Darren wasn't talking about Hermione…
He was worried about the elves first.
Darren saw Ron's expression.
He pursed his lips.
"I'm worried about Hermione too."
"I'll ask Paige to bring her something to eat later."
Then he straightened.
"But from today onward, I will not eat in the Great Hall again—
Unless Headmaster Dumbledore pays the house-elves."
Ron sucked in a sharp breath.
"But—Darren—"
Ron nearly slapped his own mouth.
Why did he tell him?
Hermione was enough.
Now Darren too?!
It was like setting the Gryffindor tower on fire for fun.
"You're really serious about not eating?"
Ron asked weakly.
Darren nodded.
Normally, Paige brought him breakfast anyway.
House-elves were excellent food smugglers.
Hot food.
Perfect timing.
Fresh deliveries.
He already ate most meals in the dormitory.
He only pretended to eat in the Great Hall.
Bread, juice, a few bites.
But today?
He was completely full already.
Skipping lunch wouldn't even hurt him.
Still—
"I'll find Paige first," Darren said firmly.
"I'll ask her to make Hermione something."
And with that, he turned and rushed off.
Ron stared after him in despair.
Harry wiped blood from his lip and walked over.
"Why did you tell him so early?"
Harry sighed.
"If Darren's involved, this won't end like Hermione.
It'll be worse."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck.
"I saw Hermione eat a little earlier, though. When I punched Malfoy, she was eating steak and left with bread."
"So… maybe Darren will cave by lunch?"
He paused.
Though even he didn't believe it.
"Salaries for house-elves… how did Hermione even think of that?
And you!" Harry glared at Ron.
"Why would you tell Darren something like that?!"
Ron kicked the table bitterly.
"I wanted him to persuade Hermione!
How would I know it would turn into this?!"
"Your brain's been used as a sponge."
Malfoy's cold voice cut in.
Ron raised his wand instantly.
"You want another broken nose?!"
Malfoy snorted and stepped back.
"I don't feel like dealing with idiots today."
He left with Crabbe and Goyle.
Ron lowered his wand proudly.
"He's scared."
Harry sighed.
"Maybe…
But I'm more worried about Darren."
They decided to wait near Slytherin's common room.
The moment they turned the corner—
They saw Paige.
Crying.
And Darren standing in front of her.
Ron blinked.
"…Is Darren firing his elf?"
Harry felt strangely anxious.
Then whispered—
"Maybe he really is.
If he sends her away, the Potter family can take him back!
I can—"
They crept closer.
Then they heard Paige's voice.
"Little Master Darren, please don't raise Paige's salary again.
You already don't have enough money.
Paige doesn't want it.
If you give it all to Paige…
You will go hungry…"
Harry's chest clenched.
Darren.
Being kind even when it hurt.
Being kind even to himself.
Paige had once been thrown out of another home.
But Darren treated her like treasure.
He would rather starve than underpay her.
Harry swallowed hard.
Then he heard Darren's soft voice.
"Paige…
Can you make something for Hermione?"
"You don't need to worry about me."
"I'm not hungry."
Harry's eyes turned red.
Not hungry?
His stupid brother.
His kind, foolish, painful brother.
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