Chapter 758: He Has Only One Way!!
For a split second, Darren thought Hermione had screamed because something terrible had happened—Hagrid falling, maybe even being crushed.
But when he turned back, he realized her voice wasn't fear.
It was relief.
Hagrid was already pushing himself up, shaking off the impact as if it were nothing. With a grunt, he dragged Grawp back onto his feet.
"Good—he's fine!" Ron let out a breath.
"Don't celebrate yet," Hermione snapped, pointing ahead.
The ground trembled.
Both giants had noticed them.
And now they were charging.
Each step shook the courtyard, stones cracking under their weight.
Hagrid rushed forward to intercept one of them, grabbing hold of its arm with a roar—but the second giant didn't slow down. It barreled straight toward Darren and the others, each step like thunder.
"Darren, don't stun it!" Hermione shouted quickly. "If it falls here, it'll crush half the castle!"
Darren clicked his tongue in frustration.
She wasn't wrong.
Taking one down was easy. Moving one afterward? That was a different story entirely. It would be like trying to push a collapsing mountain out of the way.
There was no time for that.
"Move!" he said sharply.
They turned and ran.
"Whomping Willow—head for the Whomping Willow!" Hermione called out.
They sprinted across the grounds, dodging spells and debris. Harry's lungs burned, his chest tight from the smoke and the metallic scent of blood in the air. Still, he didn't slow down.
Finally, the twisted silhouette of the Whomping Willow came into view, its branches lashing violently, guarding the secret beneath it.
They skidded to a stop just out of reach.
"How do we get past this thing?" Ron demanded. "Where's Crookshanks when you need him?"
Hermione shot him an exasperated look.
"Honestly, Ron—are you a wizard or not?"
She raised her wand, pointed it at a broken branch nearby, and said clearly,
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The branch lifted smoothly into the air. With a controlled flick, she guided it forward and jabbed it against a knot on the trunk.
Instantly, the Willow froze.
Its branches fell still, like a beast suddenly tamed.
The opening beneath it was revealed.
A dark tunnel.
Darren glanced at it, then at them.
"…I can go alone," he said quietly.
"No," Hermione cut in immediately. "Not happening."
She pulled out Harry's invisibility cloak and threw it over them.
"If we go, we go together. And we go unseen."
Her voice was steady—but her hands were tight.
"Let's move."
Ron gave Darren a small push. "After you."
Darren didn't argue again.
He ducked into the tunnel first.
---
The passage was even tighter than Harry remembered. They had to hunch almost immediately, then bend lower as they moved forward.
Hermione lit her wand just enough to guide their steps. The dim light flickered against the dirt walls as they moved, shoulders brushing the sides.
The air was stale.
Heavy.
After a while, another light appeared ahead—faint, but unmistakably not theirs.
Hermione reacted instantly, extinguishing her wand.
They slowed down.
The tunnel narrowed even further, forcing them to crawl.
Up ahead, a wooden crate blocked part of the exit. Instead of moving it, they climbed onto it carefully, pressing close to the wall.
Through a narrow gap, they could see into the room beyond.
At first, it was mostly voices.
Snape's voice.
"…their resistance is breaking," he was saying, a strange edge of eagerness in his tone.
Hermione and Ron instinctively glanced at Darren.
But he didn't react.
He lay still, eyes fixed forward, listening.
Then Voldemort spoke.
"There is no credit for you in that."
His voice was calm—but sharp enough to cut.
"You are a skilled wizard, yes, Severus. But you are no longer… useful."
Hermione's stomach dropped.
So Darren had been right.
Snape was in danger.
"Master, I can still—" Snape began quickly. "I can bring them to you, I can—"
"Enough."
The word snapped through the room.
"I have tolerated you for long enough," Voldemort said, his tone turning colder. "I find it… distasteful… that my own blood treats you like a father."
Hermione and Ron froze.
Their heads turned, almost in sync, toward Darren.
But before they could even speak—
Harry had already gone still.
Darren didn't look at any of them.
Not at first.
Then, slowly… he leaned back.
Just slightly.
As if the space between them mattered now.
Harry's hand twitched, like he was about to reach for him—but Darren shifted away.
There was something raw in his expression.
Something that looked dangerously close to breaking.
Inside the room, Snape was still speaking, forcing his voice steady.
"I do not know why Darren Potter would see me that way, my Lord. I have only ever followed your orders—"
"That was temporary," Voldemort cut in. "I allowed you to watch over him. That does not mean I value you."
His wand rose.
With a flick, invisible bindings snapped tight around Snape, forcing him still.
"Look at this," Voldemort said softly, almost thoughtfully. "The Elder Wand. I expected more from it."
He turned it slightly in his hand.
"But it feels no different from any other wand."
Snape seized the moment.
"Master—let me go after the boys first—"
"No, Severus," Voldemort said, almost gently now. "You still don't understand."
He smiled faintly.
"They will come to me. Both of them."
His eyes gleamed.
"They cannot stand by and watch someone die."
Snape's face went pale.
Voldemort continued, almost conversationally,
"I had considered giving you to Darren. Letting him take his revenge himself."
A pause.
"But that would be… inefficient."
"Master—" Snape's voice cracked slightly.
He tried to move.
Tried to raise his wand—
But Voldemort had already disarmed him.
With a flick, the wand flew from his hand.
Then—
"Nagini."
The snake moved instantly, coiling around Snape, tightening.
Snape struggled, but it was useless.
"Kill."
The command came in cold, hissing Parseltongue.
Nagini struck.
Her fangs sank into Snape's neck.
A sharp, choking sound escaped him—
then silence.
Voldemort watched for a moment, expression unreadable.
Then he turned away.
Nagini slid back to his side.
As he walked toward the door, his voice drifted behind him—
"Tonight, when Harry Potter is dead… and Darren Potter is defeated…"
A faint, satisfied note crept in.
"The world will know the truth of his blood."
.
"He will have only one choice."
The door shut behind him.
---
Silence engulfed them.
Hermione and Ron didn't say a word.
Hermione and Ron looked at Darren in horror…
They were both looking at Darren.
Waiting.
Not knowing what he would do.
Or what he had just lost.