Chapter 653 : I'm Not Jealous!!
Except for Darren, all the students let out a quiet breath of excitement.
After all, something like this was far too rare.
Especially for students.
Of course, it would be just as valuable for ordinary wizards.
If Voldemort could mass-produce this potion, then perhaps the Death Eaters would drink it before every battle.
They wouldn't fear becoming arrogant or reckless at all.
Slughorn clearly saw the excitement in everyone's eyes—and this was exactly the effect he wanted.
He laughed heartily, then took a small crystal vial from his pocket and held it up for everyone to see.
"Now then, children, today's task is to brew the Draught of Living Death. It's an extremely complex potion. Whoever brews it best—this will be your prize!
Come on now, don't dawdle, get started!"
The classroom immediately burst into activity.
Everyone hurried to their cauldrons, eager to brew the perfect potion as quickly as possible.
Darren, on the other hand, took out his tools unhurriedly.
When he brewed potions, he usually only needed to read the process once to understand how to improve it.
He noticed Harry frowning at his book, looking particularly irritated.
Clearly, the handwriting was affecting his reading.
But Darren knew Harry would only be annoyed for a moment.
Because very soon, Harry would see just how powerful the Half-Blood Prince's notes really were.
Sure enough, as Darren began stirring his potion, Harry whispered anxiously,
"Darren—seven turns clockwise, one turn counter-clockwise!"
Darren smiled faintly and glanced at his own cauldron.
He extinguished the flame, then added a drop of crushed sopophorous bean juice.
The color of his potion instantly shifted, turning the same soft pink as Harry's—but deeper, richer.
"Brother," Darren said quietly,
"I'm glad you finally started thinking properly in Potions class. But that method's an old one—I was already using it back in second year.
I found it too slow, so I adjusted it. If you like it, i could write it down. You can use it next time."
Harry was stunned.
He looked down at the textbook he had been treating like a sacred guide and suddenly felt a bit foolish.
So even a genius method could still be improved.
He sighed inwardly, completely convinced.
---
Harry's thoughts drifted back to Malfoy.
He was sure Malfoy was hiding something.
And that it had to do with Voldemort.
But Ron and Hermione both thought it was unlikely.
"With Dumbledore here—and Darren too—what could Malfoy possibly do?" Ron said.
Even after Harry quietly told them about the Dark Mark on Malfoy's arm, they still didn't think Voldemort would entrust him with anything important.
"Like Darren said, it's probably just punishment," Hermione concluded.
"The Dark Lord wouldn't give a child a real mission."
Ron agreed.
Harry found it hard to accept.
Only Darren shared his unease.
But even Darren thought Malfoy might be given something significant—perhaps an impossible task.
Kill Dumbledore.
Destroy Hogwarts.
Or maybe something even worse.
Harry felt Darren was overthinking it.
Why would Voldemort give Malfoy a mission that was clearly doomed to fail?
It didn't make sense.
Still, one thing was certain.
Whatever Malfoy was planning, it wouldn't be anything good.
Harry decided he would keep a close eye on him.
---
He then noticed Malfoy sidling up to Slughorn.
"Professor, have you ever heard of my grandfather?"
"Oh, yes," Slughorn replied cheerfully.
"I remember—died of dragon pox. Very tragic."
Harry nearly burst out laughing.
Malfoy heard it.
He turned his head and glared coldly at Harry, silently mouthing,
"Potter, you're dead."
Harry immediately mouthed back,
"Your dad's in Azkaban."
Malfoy almost stood up to attack him.
Fortunately, Slughorn chose that moment to end the brewing.
"All right, children, stop there. Let me see your results—and decide who's earned my prize."
Everyone froze.
Slughorn began inspecting the cauldrons one by one.
Sometimes he smiled. Sometimes he winced.
He passed Ron's muddy mess and stopped at Hermione's cauldron.
"Excellent work, my dear—Gryffindor!"
Then he reached Darren's cauldron.
His eyes widened.
"My goodness… Darren—did Professor Snape tell me you'd improved the formula?
You're not just a genius—you're a genius among geniuses. You'll go far, my boy. Though really, you already have!"
Slughorn exclaimed loudly.
He glanced once more at Harry's potion.
"With that said—Harry's brew is still far better than everyone else's here, save Darren's.
But I only have one prize, and it must go to the most deserving—Darren!"
Darren smiled calmly and accepted the vial.
A moment later, while everyone pretended not to notice—but was clearly watching—he slipped the potion into Harry's hand.
"Brother, don't refuse it.
I planned to give it to you anyway. You're always in danger—I want this to help you.
Don't worry about me. I can brew it again from scratch. You know I can."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
As Darren quietly absorbed the Holy Father points, he noticed Hermione's expression tighten.
She looked… even more displeased.
---
That night, as they sat by the Black Lake watching the giant squid ripple beneath the surface, Hermione finally spoke, clearly unsettled.
"Harry… how did you do it?"
"Well, I just—"
Harry explained about the textbook.
Ron looked envious.
"Just a little more, just a little more, and I could've had that book too…"
"That's cheating," Hermione snapped.
"You didn't rely on your own ability at all."
"But he didn't even get Slughorn's reward!" Ron protested.
That only made Hermione angrier.
"How did he not get it? Darren gave him the Felix Felicis!"
"So that's what you're upset about," Harry said, stunned.
Hermione immediately shouted,
"I'm not! I'm just worried you're being tricked by a book—like that diary in second year! I'm not jealous!"