Chapter 763: You Took Advantage of Me!!
Night.
Dumbledore's office.
Snape sat opposite Albus Dumbledore, his face tense, voice low but urgent.
"You need to tell me everything."
Dumbledore nodded slowly.
"Yes. When the time comes… you must kill me. And after that, no matter what happens—do not let them know the truth."
Snape's hands clenched.
"Darren Potter will hate me. He'll try to kill me. And he will never know why!"
His voice caught in his throat.
Dumbledore looked at him for a long moment, then spoke gently.
"Severus… haven't you understood yet?"
"Why do you think I chose you?"
Snape didn't answer.
"Because he loves you," Dumbledore continued quietly. "He trusts you. To him, you are like a father."
"He won't be able to bring himself to kill you."
Snape's expression twisted.
"And do you know what that will do to him?" he demanded. "Do you have any idea how painful that will be for him?"
Dumbledore lowered his eyes.
"This is necessary."
His voice was calm—but firm.
"If they are to survive… every step must go exactly as planned."
Snape stared at him.
For a long time.
Then, finally—
he nodded.
"…What are you planning to make him do?"
Dumbledore didn't answer directly.
"That is between me and them, Severus. Don't interrupt."
He leaned forward slightly.
"When the time comes—when Voldemort grows wary, when he begins to fear that someone might destroy Nagini—"
"That is when you tell Harry."
"Tell him what?" Snape asked, his voice tight.
"Tell him about the night Voldemort tried to kill him."
Dumbledore's gaze was steady.
"When the curse rebounded from Lily's protection… a fragment of Voldemort's soul attached itself to Harry. It lives within him."
Snape stiffened.
"I know you are aware of this," Dumbledore said. "But you do not yet grasp its full meaning."
"I have discussed this with Darren."
"Harry can connect to Voldemort's mind because… he has become a Horcrux."
"As long as he lives… Voldemort cannot truly die."
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Then Snape spoke, very quietly—
"…So the boy has to die."
He paused.
"…Does Darren know?"
Dumbledore exhaled softly.
"After we spoke, Darren asked me to erase his memory."
"He will remember eventually—after learning the truth again. He has… his own arrangements."
"As for Harry—"
Dumbledore's voice sharpened slightly.
"It must be Voldemort himself who does it."
"Do you understand? It must be Voldemort."
Another long silence.
Snape's voice came again, hoarse this time.
"I always thought… all these years… you protected him because of Lily. Because of Potter…"
Dumbledore closed his eyes.
"We prepared him for this."
"For years."
"So that when the moment came… he could face it."
"So that his connection to Voldemort would deepen—"
"So that he could walk to his death with courage."
Snape's chair scraped sharply against the floor as he stood.
"You protected him… just so he could die at the right moment?"
His voice was filled with disbelief.
Dumbledore did not answer.
He simply kept his eyes closed.
Snape let out a bitter, almost broken laugh.
"Dumbledore… you used me."
His voice hardened, anger rising.
"You knew Darren had no piece of Voldemort's soul inside him."
"If you had told me earlier—if you had told me that Harry Potter carried that thing—"
"I would have taken Darren and left."
"I've risked my life for you. Served you as your spy. Pushed away my own child for your plan."
"And this—this is what it was all for?"
"That you intend for Harry Potter to die?"
He laughed again, harsher this time.
"Yes—don't look at me like that."
"Darren Potter is my child. My bloodline."
"At the very least… he carries my blood."
"I pushed him away with my own hands… all to protect Lily's children."
"And you?"
He stared straight at Dumbledore.
"What about you?"
Dumbledore's eyes opened slowly.
"…He has your blood?"
There was genuine surprise in his voice.
"That is… unexpected."
A pause.
Then, more softly—
"Severus… does that mean you have finally come to care for Harry as well?"
"Care?" Snape repeated.
His wand snapped up.
A Patronus burst forth—
a silver doe—
but something was different.
Its form wavered.
A faint, ghostlike dragon tail trailed behind it.
"Is that enough?" Snape shouted.
The Patronus dissolved.
Dumbledore watched it fade, his eyes glistening.
---
The scene shifted.
Now Snape stood before a portrait of Dumbledore.
"What next?" he asked.
The portrait answered calmly.
"You must tell Harry the exact date he leaves his aunt's house."
"You must make Voldemort believe you are completely loyal."
"Arrange for a decoy."
"Let someone else suggest it—Mundungus Fletcher, perhaps."
There was a brief pause.
"…Darren would never accept such a plan. He would come up with something better."
"Something like… taking Harry's place himself."
Snape's face darkened instantly.
"You're not afraid that will get him killed?" he snapped.
"No," the portrait said quietly. "Voldemort will not kill Darren."
"That is something I confirmed shortly before my death."
"He may even tell you why."
---
The memory shifted again.
Snape sat across from Mundungus Fletcher, a glass in his hand.
Mundungus's eyes were unfocused—vacant.
Under the effects of the Imperius Curse.
He repeated Snape's words mechanically.
---
Another shift.
Snape flew through the night sky on a broomstick, robes snapping behind him.
Ahead—
Darren.
Snape raised his wand, casting a spell—
but the spell curved midair, striking a Death Eater behind Darren instead.
The man dropped instantly.
Snape's eyes reddened.
For a moment—
just a moment—
he watched as Darren was seized.
Then his face went blank again.
---
The scene changed.
Grimmauld Place.
Snape stood beside Sirius Black, who was under a Confundus Charm.
He led Snape inside.
Snape found a letter Lily had written to Sirius.
He left instructions—telling Sirius to make sure it reached Harry.
Then—
he took a photograph.
Lily's photograph.
He sank to his knees.
And cried.
Until midnight.
Later that night, he stood outside Darren's room.
For a long time.
Without moving.
---
The memory shifted again.
A portrait spoke urgently.
"Headmaster—Darren hasn't eaten."
"Not today. Not yesterday. Not the day before."
"He hasn't eaten at all. He's unconscious now…"
Snape's fists clenched.
He turned and ran.
He burst into the dormitory—
kicking the door open.
There—
on the bed—
Darren.
Pale. Thin. Unconscious.
For a second, Snape looked like he might lose control entirely.
But he didn't.
He forced himself to act.
He carried Darren to the hospital wing.
Tried to pour potion into his mouth—
but Darren's body rejected it, coughing it back up.
Snape's hands trembled.
"Madam Pomfrey!" he called, voice tight with panic.
---
The scene shifted one last time.
Snape stood alone in his office, facing Dumbledore's portrait.
His voice broke.
"Why…?"
"Why does that child still have Voldemort's bloodline?"
He clenched his teeth.
"He said he and Lily—"
He stopped himself.
Then, more fiercely—
"No."
"I can't let him know."
"I cannot let that child ever learn the truth.