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Chapter Eighty: Poison-Tongued Snape!!
Hearing Snape's accusations, Harry opened his mouth to argue—but Hermione clamped a hand over it, and Ron stomped hard on his foot.
They could both see it clearly:
Snape wasn't angry about the troll.
Snape was angry about Harry.
And anything Harry said right now would only lose Gryffindor even more points—what little they had left thanks to Snape.
"Professor, it was my fault," Hermione blurted out, head bowed.
"I heard there was a troll, and I thought… I thought I could handle it. I read how they were defeated, so I thought— I was reckless. Harry and Ron only came to save me. If anyone should be punished, punish me."
Harry and Ron stared at her, stunned.
Neither of them expected Hermione—the rule-lover—to take the blame for everything.
"Well, well. Miss Know-It-All…" Snape sneered. "I'm familiar with your reputation. You think reading a few books means you understand everything? Who exactly do you imagine yourself to be? Gryffindor, minus twenty points for your recklessness."
Hermione's shoulders slumped.
Harry clenched his fists.
Snape wasn't being strict.
He was being vindictive.
This wasn't discipline—it was personal.
"All right, Severus," Dumbledore cut in gently. "Let's not be too harsh. The troll is dead, the children are safe. No need to bury them in guilt."
He shifted his gaze to the trio.
"Well, as Severus has deducted his points, let me add that Harry and Ron were very brave tonight. Even knowing they couldn't defeat a troll, they still tried. Gryffindor, plus twenty points each."
Harry's eyes lit up.
They had lost only ten points in the end.
Even Snape muttering that they'd been "reckless idiots" couldn't ruin his mood.
"And of course, Darren," Dumbledore added warmly, "who defeated the troll with exceptional strength. Slytherin, plus thirty points. Very impressive."
Harry glanced at Snape just in time to catch the professor's lips twitch—clearly to stop himself from swearing.
So Snape wasn't fond of Darren either.
"Children, back to your dormitories," Dumbledore said with a smile.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried toward the exit.
Before leaving, Harry glanced back.
Professor Quirrell—who had been shaking in fear all night—now looked pale and miserable, as if someone had just given him a scolding.
Snape, on the other hand, marched toward Dumbledore with murder in his eyes.
"Go on," Harry whispered. "Maybe we can sneak a look at Darren before bed."
"Right! Maybe he's awake already!" Ron said, excited.
The three bolted to the Hospital Wing—
only to be caught and promptly thrown out by Madam Pomfrey.
Still, they left with good news:
Darren was awake, and he was fine.
Back in the common room, the three exchanged awkward goodnights…
then broke into matching smiles.
They were officially friends now.
---
After Halloween, November arrived.
Darren wrapped himself in a thick scarf, but the icy wind still found its way down his neck.
Snape hadn't bothered him since he left the infirmary—clearly the professor had already vented every last bit of temper the moment Darren woke up.
Hermione and Ron had fully bonded.
They even apologized repeatedly to Darren when he was discharged.
Darren had replied with perfect Holy Father energy, praising Gryffindor for being "a House that learns from mistakes."
Since becoming their friend, Hermione had become far more relaxed about rules.
It actually made her… cute.
During break, Hermione conjured a small jar of bluebell flames, letting them warm their hands.
She was knitting a thicker scarf for Darren because he had complained every day that the one he bought outside "still let the cold bite his neck."
Harry was reading a Quidditch book Hermione found for him in the library.
He looked up—and froze.
Snape limped around the corner, looking injured.
Harry panicked and moved to block Hermione's flames so Snape wouldn't see.
"What do you think you're doing?" Snape snapped.
Harry straightened instantly.
"Nothing!"
Snape's eyes shifted—and landed on Darren.
His expression darkened further.
He turned back to Harry.
"What are you reading?"
"The Ultimate Guide to Quidditch," Harry answered, showing the title.
Snape's mood visibly worsened.
He snatched the book out of Harry's hands.
"Library books are not to be brought out of the library. Gryffindor, minus ten."
He limped away.
Harry nearly exploded.
"He made that rule up! The library doesn't have anything like that!"
But Snape had never been someone who cared about rules.
He cared about bullying Harry.
Harry and Ron launched into a rant about Snape's unfairness, but Hermione fell silent.
She noticed Darren hadn't joined in—not even to defend Snape, which he usually did.
He looked worried.
"Professor Snape's leg is injured," Darren murmured, frowning.
And then he stood abruptly.
"I should go check on him. Maybe I can help."
Maybe he'd get a system mission.
Maybe he'd earn more Father Points.
Either way, he couldn't miss the opportunity.
Harry sighed and stood as well.
"I'm coming too. I need to return that book."
"Brother—"
"Don't. I'm not letting you go alone," Harry said firmly.
Darren blinked at him.
Then smiled.
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