.
---
Chapter Eighty-Two — I Want to Save My Brother!!
"I think Snape wants to steal whatever's hidden under those three heads!"
Harry whispered as he pulled Darren, Ron, and Hermione together. He told them everything he saw in Snape's office and delivered his grand conclusion.
Even though Darren had said Snape was kind, even though Snape had given the book back… Harry refused to believe it.
Kind?
Please. Darren was simply too kind-hearted himself.
As for Snape returning the confiscated book?
That was the bare minimum. The fact that he'd taken it in the first place was the real Snape move.
Harry clearly wasn't looking for Darren's approval.
"Impossible. Professor Snape wouldn't do that," Darren said immediately.
Of course he'd defend Snape. He was too innocent to imagine Snape involved in anything shady — and besides, Snape truly wasn't. He was on the right side from the beginning.
Harry saw Darren's disbelief and hurried to add:
"On Halloween Eve, Ron and I saw him trying to get past the big dog — and you didn't believe Ron!
I'll bet my broom on it — Snape definitely let the troll in as a distraction!"
Harry puffed up.
He looked confident.
And he was… half right.
It did look that way.
Darren almost laughed out loud.
Ah, Harry… if only you knew.
In third year that broom of yours ends up smashed by the Whomping Willow.
Betting it now is practically tempting fate.
Still, Darren played the part of the obedient, plot-ignorant younger twin.
He put on a serious expression.
"Professor Snape was angry because I was reckless. I should've escaped with you instead of fighting.
And as for the three-headed dog — maybe he was checking if everything was still in place. Professors do inspections sometimes."
He delivered the explanation calmly, as if genuinely trying to convince them.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't believe a word.
They patted him on the shoulder with pitying looks — as if Snape had brainwashed him — and quickly shooed him back to his homework so they could go elsewhere and discuss Snape privately.
Darren obediently stayed seated and wrote in silence.
Luckily, they returned quickly, still pitying him.
He ignored their thoughts.
By the end of the year, they'd learn.
What Harry should be worrying about was tomorrow's Quidditch match — his first ever.
Darren was relieved Snape didn't let him join the sport. The idea of flying around like a spinning scarecrow in front of the entire school was not appealing.
—
Early the next morning, the weather was crisp and cold.
Harry was dragged to the Quidditch pitch at dawn — barely managing to stuff half a sausage into his mouth first.
By eleven, the entire school had filled the stands.
Everyone carried binoculars and bragged loudly about broomstick technique.
It was Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
So Darren had been sternly warned not to go sit with Gryffindor.
Under Becky's glare, he obediently nodded.
Not like anyone could actually stop him from running wherever he wanted.
Down on the pitch, Marcus Flint shook Wood's hand with a grin that promised violence.
Mrs. Hooch's whistle saved them both from trying to crush each other's palms.
"The match begins!"
Darren leaned forward, watching with genuine interest.
Flying looked fun — for others.
He'd seen Harry's face twisted by the wind.
If Colin were here already, he would've turned that into a whole photo collection.
Darren swore to never participate in a sport that could destroy his image so thoroughly.
The match was heated — both teams played like they had grudges to settle.
Harry suddenly shot upward — he must've seen the Snitch.
But a heartbeat later, his broom jerked violently, shaking as if possessed.
"What's happening?" Darren shot to his feet.
He paced in tight circles, panicking.
If he'd had a broom, he would've flown up instantly.
"My brother— No. I need to get a professor!"
[Ding, Holy Father Value +30]
[Ding, Holy Father Value +20]
[Ding, Holy Father Value +50]
[Ding…]
A steady wave of Holy Father points flowed in.
Kassandra finally rolled her eyes and grabbed him.
"Enough! The professors already have their wands out — look!"
She pointed to the staff platform.
"As long as Potter falls, someone will catch him. Why are you spinning like a top? You're making me dizzy!"
She looked him up and down, baffled.
Someone had cursed Harry's broom — that had Death Eater written all over it.
If Death Eaters dared attack Harry Potter, they definitely wouldn't spare Darren.
Why was he rushing around like he wanted to volunteer as the next target?
Of course she couldn't say that aloud.
If Darren knew a Death Eater was involved, he'd probably sprint straight onto the field to "save his brother" and get himself killed.
Potter twins…
Merlin save them.
--
---
---
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Like it ? Add to library!
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!