Chapter 759: You Are Back!!
Darren ignored Hermione at this moment. He lifted his wand, and the box blocking the way slid aside.
The narrow passage opened.
He was the first to rush in.
Snape's face was still twisted with pain.
But the moment he saw Darren, his eyes filled with guilt.
"Sorry… hold… it…"
His voice was broken, barely there.
At the same time, silvery strands began spilling out of his ears, his mouth, his eyes—
Memories.
Darren reacted instantly.
He waved his wand, gathering every strand of silver together, carefully guiding them into a glass vial.
Snape's eyes dimmed.
Then he closed them.
His body went slack as he collapsed.
"Darren…" Hermione called softly.
But Darren didn't answer.
He lifted his wand again.
One after another, bottles of potion appeared beside him.
He uncorked them quickly and poured them into Snape's mouth.
One bottle.
Then another.
Then another.
He didn't stop.
No one knew how many he used.
Until finally—
Snape's breathing steadied.
Weak, but steady.
Alive.
The Half-Blood Prince—who should have died here in the Shrieking Shack—
had survived.
"Darren… should we take him to the hospital wing?" Hermione asked carefully.
Darren shook his head.
He cast a Disillusionment Charm over Snape, then dragged him aside and shoved him into a cabinet inside the Shrieking Shack, hiding him completely.
"Darren—"
Harry started to speak.
But suddenly—
A sharp, cold voice echoed through the air.
It spread across Hogwarts… across Hogsmeade…
Voldemort.
"You have shown great courage in resisting.
Lord Voldemort acknowledges your bravery.
But you have suffered heavy losses. If you continue, more will die. The werewolves and giants will only grow more violent.
Lord Voldemort does not wish for that.
Every drop of magical blood is precious.
So I will give you one hour.
I will order my Death Eaters to withdraw. For one hour, you may tend to your dead… and let them depart with dignity."
A pause.
Then—
"Harry Potter.
I will speak to you directly.
Do not let your friends die for you. Come and face me alone."
The silence grew heavier.
"I will wait for you in the Forbidden Forest for one hour.
If you do not come… the battle will resume. And I will enter the battle personally."
His voice sharpened, colder.
"Every man, woman, old or young who harbors you will be punished.
None will be spared.
One hour."
The voice faded.
Darren slowly turned and looked at Harry.
"Brother… I'll go in your place. Just kill Nagini."
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"Stop it!" Hermione said sharply. "Neither of you is going!"
Ron still looked shaken.
He instinctively stepped toward Darren, as if he wanted to pull him away—
But then he stopped.
As if he remembered something.
He stepped back instead.
Darren's face went pale.
But he pretended not to notice.
He simply lowered his eyes.
"…Let's go back first," Harry said quietly.
---
The four of them walked back toward the castle.
Silently.
No one spoke.
The corridors felt strangely empty.
Ron looked uneasy, like he was struggling with something inside.
Hermione stayed quiet.
Harry walked ahead.
Darren followed, as if lost in thought.
---
When they reached the castle—
It was silent.
Too silent.
The broken walls made everything feel even colder.
Ginny was kneeling with a group of students, crying around someone lying on the ground.
Darren glanced at the body.
A student.
Someone he didn't really know.
Even though he had told himself countless times—
war always meant death—
a dull ache still rose in his chest.
Hermione walked over and pulled Ginny into a hug.
They cried together.
They moved forward again.
Mrs. Weasley was holding Tonks, trying to comfort her.
Tonks' mother was kneeling beside her husband.
Both of them were crying.
His face—
half of it had been torn apart by a werewolf.
Nearby, Neville lay on the ground, covered in blood.
But he was alive.
Madam Pomfrey was treating him.
Percy saw Ron and waved him over.
Ron went to the Weasleys.
Harry and Darren didn't.
They kept walking forward.
Still silent.
Harry wanted to say something.
But he couldn't.
He wanted to cry—
but even that wouldn't come.
He thought they were brothers.
The closest kind.
But Darren…
had Voldemort's blood.
The thought kept coming back.
Over and over.
Their mother… dying under Voldemort's wand…
And somehow, Darren existing because of that—
The more he thought about it, the worse it felt.
---
Without saying a word, they walked toward Dumbledore's office.
Darren had expected a password.
But as soon as he stepped forward—
The stone guardians moved aside.
The staircase revealed itself.
They climbed up.
The office felt different.
Empty.
All the portraits of past headmasters were gone—probably moved elsewhere to watch what was happening.
Dumbledore's portrait was gone too.
Just an empty frame.
Darren glanced at it and let out a small sigh.
Then he took out the vial of memories he had collected from Snape and poured it into the Pensieve.
When Snape had given him those memories—
he must have thought he was going to die.
There would be a lot in there.
Hopefully…
nothing about his death.
Darren almost smiled at the thought.
Then he stirred the memories with his wand.
He didn't wait for Harry.
He leaned forward and plunged straight in.
---
The world shifted.
His feet landed on warm ground.
Harry appeared beside him soon after.
In front of them—
a bush.
Behind it, two girls.
And behind them—
a boy with greasy hair.
Young Snape.
He was staring at Lily without blinking.
When Darren stepped closer, he couldn't help thinking—
this really was shameless devotion.
This was the first time Snape and Lily met.
Lily was sitting on a swing with Petunia.
She swung higher and higher, laughing.
Petunia scolded her.
But Lily didn't care.
She turned a withered flower into a blooming one.
Petunia screamed.
And finally—
Snape stepped forward.