He could hardly imagine Dudley calling him brother.
He might go crazy.
But Darren was different. Hearing that soft little voice call him brother made him so happy he could practically jump for joy.
"Darren, where did you live when you were little? Was it in the Wizarding World?"
Harry asked curiously.
The House-elf that had come looking for him had only asked about his experiences; she had not told him about Darren's.
When Dumbledore had gone to see Aunt Petunia, he had not mentioned Darren's past either.
But seeing how elegant Darren looked, Harry had never considered the possibility that he had grown up in the ordinary world.
"I grew up in an orphanage. In late August this year, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape found me."
Darren pressed down his red hair.
After being pressed down, that stray lock of hair stubbornly sprang back up.
Harry glanced at it enviously.
If only he could have Darren's hair.
At least only one lock stuck up, while his own hair stuck up everywhere.
"Cool! Ever since I was little, I've dreamed of living in an orphanage. Isn't it a wonderful place? Could I go back with you during the holidays?"
Harry asked admiringly.
Darren noticed that many people were secretly watching him.
Clearly, being around Harry made every move a spectacle.
And a large number of them were worried that Harry's words would make him angry.
After all, Hogwarts' professors had learned from Peeves what kind of life Darren had lived at the orphanage.
They were overthinking it.
Of course Darren would not get angry.
With such a wonderful stage to perform on, he wanted nothing more than to stand under everyone's gaze and play a saint devoid of worldly desires.
Was getting angry more important than Paternal Points?
Not by