Chapter 783: Side Story — Betsy Greengrass
"That kid looks like he belongs in Hufflepuff. Totally clueless."
Burke said with obvious disdain.
The irritation Betsy had been suppressing instantly turned into anger.
She shot him a cold glare.
"Hufflepuff? You're the clueless one. He should be in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw."
As she spoke, she noticed the strange look in Burke's eyes.
A wicked smile slowly spread across his face.
"No wonder you never gave any of us a second glance."
"So this is your type."
"A little kid."
"You used to mock me for being an old cow eating young grass. Who would've thought?"
"I knew it. The girl I saw running around like crazy on the train earlier was definitely you."
"Everyone says you're elegant."
"And just now you were pretending not to care."
"If I didn't have such sharp observation skills, you really would've fooled me."
Betsy nearly crushed her teeth.
This bastard.
He really was a fox.
For a moment, she seriously considered Obliviating him.
Burke immediately seemed to guess what she was thinking.
"Betsy, I advise you not to do that."
"I check my memories every day."
"I even compare them with records."
"If anything goes missing, I'll know immediately."
"And then I'll have no choice but to tell my parents."
"Once that happens, your little secret about that young sprout won't stay hidden for long."
A threat.
A very direct threat.
The smile on Betsy's face became slightly twisted.
She suddenly wanted to murder him.
Perhaps hiring an assassin like those pure-blood idiots did wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Fortunately, Burke wasn't stupid.
He could tell she was reaching her limit.
So he immediately proposed a deal.
"If you don't want me talking, that's fine."
"Just tell everyone we're dating."
"You can keep chasing your little sprout."
"And I can keep chasing mine."
"No."
Betsy rejected him without hesitation.
"I won't be with him."
"He's Muggle-born."
"We're impossible."
It wasn't even a question.
Her family would never allow it.
As the eldest daughter of the Greengrass family, she had responsibilities.
She couldn't disgrace her family.
Burke blinked.
He had assumed anyone capable of attracting Betsy's attention would at least be a pure-blood.
Instead, it was a Muggle-born?
His interest vanished instantly.
A relationship like that had no future.
There was no point using it to threaten her.
Betsy would handle it herself.
With a sigh, Burke leaned back in his seat.
"My girlfriend's family says she's too young to date."
"My family wants me to marry into the Greengrass family."
"What a headache."
"I was looking for someone to help me keep up appearances for a couple of years."
"You were the only candidate."
"Who knew your little crush was a Muggle-born?"
Betsy ignored him completely.
She continued watching the Sorting Ceremony.
Until—
"Darren Potter!"
Potter?
The surname made Betsy freeze.
For the first time that evening, genuine shock appeared on her face.
She wasn't alone.
Many people reacted the same way.
Nobody had known Harry Potter had a younger brother.
Burke turned toward her immediately.
"Didn't you say he was Muggle-born?"
His expression was full of disbelief.
Clearly, Betsy hadn't even known the boy's name.
Betsy felt embarrassed.
Then, a moment later, she laughed bitterly.
"He's a Potter."
"Yeah."
"He's a Potter."
Which made things even more impossible.
A daughter of a former Death Eater family.
The brother of the Boy Who Lived.
They couldn't be further apart.
Betsy lowered her eyes.
Potters belonged in Gryffindor.
Every Potter went to Gryffindor.
This one wouldn't be an exception.
Besides, Harry Potter was already there.
The brothers would be reunited.
Wouldn't they?
The kid had been following Harry around earlier.
Waiting for him.
And yet...
He looked thinner than Harry.
Where exactly had Dumbledore hidden him all these years?
Betsy frowned.
Then she immediately forced herself to stop thinking about it.
No more.
The kid would have nothing to do with her from now on.
They belonged to completely different worlds.
Betsy raised her head expressionlessly.
Around her sat the future of Slytherin.
Those were the people she should care about.
She thought about many things.
And somehow nothing at all.
Then she realized something.
The Sorting Hat was still on Darren's head.
Why was it taking so long?
Could it be—
Potter had no magical talent?
Was the Sorting Hat preparing to send him home?
The thought made Betsy smirk.
Then—
"SLYTHERIN!"
The Sorting Hat shouted.
The Great Hall exploded.
What?
Slytherin?
"Seriously?"
"A Potter in Slytherin?"
Burke looked completely stunned.
Then he glanced at Betsy suspiciously.
"You didn't charm him over here, did you?"
Betsy sneered.
She didn't bother answering.
Because her attention was elsewhere.
Darren was staring at Harry.
His eyes had turned red.
He looked as though he desperately wanted Harry's approval.
Unfortunately, he didn't get it.
In the end, he dragged his feet toward the Slytherin table.
Looking utterly miserable.
He sat down beside Draco Malfoy.
On his other side sat Cassandra.
Cassandra...
Betsy closed her eyes briefly.
Then withdrew her gaze.
So what if Potter was sad?
What did that have to do with her?
"You're really not going over there?"
Burke suddenly asked.
"If you wait any longer, Miss Vole might steal him first."
Betsy frowned.
Only then did she realize Darren was already walking farther away.
Before she could think, she reached out.
Grabbed him.
And pulled him into the empty seat beside her.
The moment she saw his eyes light up, Burke's earlier words suddenly resurfaced.
Could it be...
Had this idiot really chosen Slytherin because of her?
No.
Surely not.
...Right?
Betsy wasn't entirely certain anymore.
After all, when the Sorting result had been announced, he'd looked genuinely devastated.
Then another thought occurred to her.
The Sorting Hat respected a student's deepest wishes.
If Darren truly wanted to come to Slytherin...
Then the Hat would have sent him here.
Forget it.
There was no point thinking about it.
Instead, she decided to remind him about the prefect selection process.
Judging by his expression, he clearly knew nothing.
So, in an unusually kind mood, she explained it to him.
Then she discovered something astonishing.
He couldn't even cast basic spells properly.
Had he seriously never practiced the spells from his textbooks before school started?
What exactly had he been doing all summer?
Betsy stared at him.
Then sighed deeply.
Simple.
Naive.
Hopelessly stupid.
No wonder nobody had told him anything.
After all, with a personality like his, if nobody looked after him...
He'd probably get bullied to death.
"Well."
"If they cause trouble for you, just punch them."
"Keep punching until they cry."
"Problem solved."
Betsy spoke with complete seriousness.
After all, in Slytherin—
Being ruthless wasn't a disadvantage.
It was survival.