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Chapter 14 — The Righteous Little Wizard
Hermione Granger's first impression of the wizarding world was… not good.
Ever since she and her father had stepped through the Leaky Cauldron, they'd been met with sneers and sideways looks.
A few wizards had even whispered things like "Muggle-borns…" under their breath.
At one point, a wizard had actually drawn his wand on them — right in the middle of the Cauldron Bar.
Thankfully, other witches and wizards had intervened, forcing the man to back down.
Still, the experience left a sour taste in Hermione's mouth.
She had always been confident — the top of her class in the Muggle world — but now, for the first time, she felt a flicker of insecurity.
Was Hogwarts really a place for someone like her?
A Muggle-born girl among powerful wizards?
Would they hex her for fun the moment she arrived?
And if she felt uneasy, her father felt worse.
Mr. Granger had endured insult after insult from arrogant wizards, biting his tongue only for Hermione's sake.
But when a pompous, half-drunk man sneered at him in public, calling him a "filthy Muggle," something inside him snapped.
As a respected dentist back home, he wasn't used to being humiliated.
So he talked back — sharply.
Only after the words left his mouth did regret sink in.
These wizards were dangerous. Their magic could curse or disfigure with a flick of the wrist.
He'd seen one whose face looked like it was melting.
What if this man does that to me?
Just as panic gripped him, a small figure stepped forward between them.
"Sir," the boy said, voice trembling but firm, "you can be angry with me — but you have no right to bully ordinary people! Even Muggles deserve respect!"
Mr. Granger froze.
It was just a boy — no older than Hermione — standing up to a grown wizard.
For him.
"Oh my goodness…" he murmured. "Hermione, is this what your classmates are like? So brave?"
Hermione shook her head slowly, eyes wide.
How could she know?
She hadn't even started at Hogwarts yet.
Surely not every wizard child was like this.
And yet… this one — this boy — hadn't even drawn a wand.
He looked terrified, but he hadn't backed down.
Something about him, the quiet courage in his eyes, made Hermione's fear ease just a little.
Maybe… maybe Hogwarts won't be so bad after all, she thought softly.
---
Of course, Darren knew nothing about Hermione's thoughts.
He had just finished equipping his newly earned title — "Wand Keeper."
A reward for his valiant little speech.
Not the most glamorous prize, but hey — he'd worked for it.
And besides, it sounded useful.
No one likes losing their wand.
He straightened his shoulders, trying to look calm and unbothered.
But across from him, the angry wizard — Mundungus Fletcher — was fuming.
He'd only mocked a random Muggle for fun, and suddenly some first-year brat had jumped in to lecture him.
A kid!
Where does Dumbledore keep finding these nosy little brats? he thought bitterly.
Fine. He'd planned to walk away, but now? Now his pride was wounded.
He couldn't be seen backing down from a child.
"Little brat," he growled, eyes narrowing. "Do you even know who I am?"
Darren blinked. "No."
Which was true — he honestly didn't.
He was just here to play the "saintly hero" role.
Mundungus's lip curled. "In my family, we have a tradition. Disobedient children's heads get cut off… and hung on the wall as decorations."
Hermione and Mr. Granger gasped in horror.
"M–murderer!" Hermione cried.
Mr. Granger's face drained of color. He'd heard about dark wizards — murderers who once terrorized the magical world — but he'd hoped such people were gone.
McGonagall promised me it was safe! he thought desperately.
If this was the kind of man who roamed free here, he couldn't possibly leave Hermione in this world.
He needed to take her and run. Now.
But Hermione didn't move.
Her heart was pounding, eyes fixed on Darren.
This wizard wasn't really threatening them — not yet — but he was threatening Darren.
And Darren was standing there for their sake.
She felt her throat tighten. What should I do? Should I apologize? Would he forgive us?
---
And then, once again, the system's voice chimed in Darren's head.
> [Ding! The system has detected an opportunity for a "Holy Father" act.]
Temporary Quest: Step forward, pale and trembling, and say —
"Sir, if you're going to kill anyone, kill me. Just please, don't hurt them."
Reward: Ability of Mundungus Fletcher — "Pickpocket."
Do you accept this quest?
…What?
Stealing?
Why would I need the ability to steal?!
Wait—
Did that man just say his name was Mundungus?
The realization hit him like a Bludger.
Mundungus Fletcher.
The same petty thief from the original story!
Oh, great.
Not only was he about to pull a fake self-sacrifice speech, he was doing it in front of Mundungus bloody Fletcher.
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