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Chapter 585 Lockhart's Photo!!
Although the words were a little hurtful, to Harry they were simply the best thing he had heard in the past two days.
He exclaimed in excitement, unable to wait to share his happiness with everyone.
Especially when Black was outside, cheerfully singing May God Bless You, the smile on Harry's face grew even wider.
Christmas Eve arrived.
They cleaned the entire house and put up a Christmas tree. Mrs. Weasley prepared a lavish dinner.
Harry and the others stayed up late, laughing and playing.
When they woke up the next morning, gifts were piled all over the room.
Well…
Most of them were for Darren.
Harry and the others deliberately left the room, giving Darren some private space to open his presents.
Darren let out a sigh of relief. Luckily, this was abroad—no one peeked without permission when opening gifts. Otherwise, he might really have had to modify Harry's memories.
He cast several Confundus Charms on Phineas's portrait, making sure that even if Phineas came over, he would be dizzy and confused. Then Darren waved his wand and opened all the parcels at once.
As in previous years, most of them were Galleons, along with a portion of sweets.
Darren piled all the candy onto the floor, stacking it into a small hill, then called Peggy.
Peggy took the Galleons and most of the candy away, leaving only empty boxes scattered across the floor, clearly the remains of unwrapped sweets.
Darren changed into the sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him, then used his wand to carry the remaining candy downstairs.
Everyone in the house was stunned. They stared at the mountain of sweets, then at Darren, completely dumbfounded.
Darren said a little embarrassedly,
"It's been like this every year. I usually ask Peggy to send the candy to the patients at St. Mungo's.
I just hope that on Christmas Day, they can feel a bit of care from strangers. I asked Peggy to come earlier, so he already took most of it. There isn't much left now.
I think we should still have a proper Christmas, right?"
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
In the end, the remaining candy was still shared among everyone. They all joked that they wouldn't need to buy sweets for an entire year.
But just as everyone was enjoying themselves, Black brought bad news.
"Kreacher is missing!"
There was a trace of irritation on Black's face.
Ron looked at Hermione and asked in confusion,
"Hermione, it wasn't you who gave Kreacher a hat and accidentally set him free, was it?"
Hermione glared at Ron.
"How could that be? I was careful. I gave him a robe because I wanted him to be clean."
"Could it be that Black told him to 'get lost,' and Kreacher thought it was an order to leave?" Harry suddenly asked.
Black shook his head.
"No. House-elves can only be freed if they're given socks or hats. They won't betray their masters just because of something like that…"
"But Dobby betrayed his master, didn't he?" Darren said in a low voice.
Everyone fell silent.
A look of unease appeared on Black's face.
"Probably not… I'll go check his nest. Maybe he's crying in front of my mother's or brother's portrait… or kissing Bellatrix's belongings… or maybe he stole my father's trousers again…"
Black said anxiously, then hurried off. Harry and the others quickly followed.
They found Kreacher's nest—his living space. It was filthy and foul-smelling.
Many of the things Mrs. Weasley had cleaned up and thrown away were piled there, already on the verge of moulding.
Harry and the others were speechless.
Darren really wanted to burn all of it, but he knew that something here would be important in the future.
Kreacher himself was nowhere to be found.
Black said he would search elsewhere and told Harry and the others to go back first. Once he finished checking the rooms, he would ask for help if needed.
However, while they were eating lunch, Black came back with news—he had found Kreacher.
In the attic upstairs.
Many people finally breathed a sigh of relief. Harry did—and so did Darren.
Darren knew the plot and understood that Kreacher had already gone to contact Bellatrix and the others. Harry, on the other hand, simply thought Kreacher was acting strangely.
Ever since being found, Kreacher kept sneaking strange looks at Harry, as if he were planning something terrible.
But Harry felt he was overthinking it. He didn't tell anyone about this feeling.
Especially in the afternoon, when they prepared once again to visit Mr. Weasley, he completely forgot about it.
Mr. Weasley was still lying in his hospital bed, reading the newspaper.
When he saw them enter, he forced a weak smile. Under Mrs. Weasley's persistent questioning, they finally learned that the snake venom was too potent for the wound to heal properly.
Even the latest antidote Darren had made was unable to completely neutralize the toxin, so the healer had resorted to Muggle sutures.
But it was obvious that Muggle stitching wasn't helping much. Darren's expression turned somewhat helpless.
He took out a potion, handed it to Mr. Weasley, and said,
"Let the healer try this. I made it recently—I'm not sure if it'll work."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
"Oh, Darren, we've troubled you again," Mrs. Weasley said apologetically.
Mr. Weasley looked conflicted—not about the potion itself, but about whether his healer would be upset if he used something Darren had made.
This immediately angered Mrs. Weasley, and the two of them began to argue.
Darren quickly said he wanted to go out and get a cup of tea to warm himself, then slipped out of the ward.
As he wiped the sweat from his forehead, he noticed several others doing the same. They exchanged looks and smiled at each other.
In the end, they decided to take a short walk, hoping that by the time they returned, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would have finished arguing.
Hermione asked where the tea room was. The sixth floor.
They climbed upstairs. After walking for a while, they were panting as they checked the floor numbers—fifth floor.
"There's one more floor…" Harry was saying when he suddenly noticed a photograph inside the ward closest to the staircase.
A photo of Gilderoy Lockhart.
Inside the room were two young witches. They also saw Harry.
Their gazes immediately shifted to Darren, and with twisted expressions they shouted,
"Darren Potter! That's Darren Potter! He's the one who harmed Gilderoy and turned him into this!"
Darren froze for a moment.
Good grief—Lockhart's brain-dead fangirls?
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