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Chapter Eighty-Three — Snape Is a Good Man!!
Darren obviously had no idea what Kassandra was really thinking.
But when he heard her lecture him, a new Holy Father–value opportunity flashed in his mind.
He lifted his wand, pointed it toward Harry with anxious determination, and said, "You're right! If my brother falls, I'll catch him!"
[Ding, Holy Father +10]
[Ding, Holy Father +20]
[Ding, Holy Father +10]
[Ding, Holy Father +10]
[Ding…]
The points trickled in, but not as many as he hoped.
Of course — the Slytherins were watching him, not Harry. Their eyes were all on the terrified Golden Boy.
Darren threw a jealous look at Fred Weasley, who stood close enough to Harry to be heroic on the spot.
If he had been up there?
He would've fought to the death to shield Harry.
The audience would've cried at the sight of such "brotherly love."
He should have forced his way into the Quidditch match!
But Snape… Snape would never allow it.
Before he could lament further, Harry suddenly steadied midair.
Then he dove straight down and slammed into the ground — but safely.
He spat something into his hand.
A glint of gold.
"I caught it!"
Harry lifted the Snitch in triumph.
"My brother won! My brother caught it!"
Darren's excited shouting echoed through the stands, making Slytherins groan.
"Gryffindor cub…"
"Fake Slytherin…"
They muttered, rolling their eyes.
[Ding, Holy Father +10]
[Ding, Holy Father +20]
[Ding, Holy Father +5]
More points. Good enough.
Darren clambered over the stands in record time, rushing to Harry's side just as Flint howled:
"He didn't catch it! He almost ate it!"
But nobody cared.
Gryffindor had won 160 to 70.
Twenty minutes later, Darren was dragged to Hagrid's hut.
Hagrid shoved steaming mugs of strong tea into everyone's hands.
Ron swallowed a sip, then leaned forward.
"It was Snape! Hermione and I saw it — he was muttering a spell on Harry's broom!"
He caught Darren's disapproving stare and quickly added, "I read about it — that's how dark curses work! He kept staring at Harry's broom and whispering!"
"Huh?"
Darren widened his eyes in shock.
But he shook his head and tried to offer a softer explanation.
"Maybe Professor Snape was counteracting the curse—"
Ron cut him off immediately.
"Darren, think! If anyone at Hogwarts wants Harry dead, it's Snape!
Who else would it be?!"
Darren tilted his head thoughtfully.
If he pretended to know nothing…
Snape did look suspicious.
So he stood up abruptly, face filled with anger.
"I'm going to find him! I'm asking him why he cursed my brother — and I'll report him to Professor Dumbledore!"
[Ding, Holy Father +100]
[Ding, Holy Father +100]
[Ding, Holy Father +100]
[Ding, Holy Father +100]
[Ding, Holy Father +50]
All three kids were moved to tears.
Even Hagrid looked lost.
The giant cleared his throat. "…I'm very touched, but what on earth happened?"
Harry grabbed Darren's arm, terrified he would actually storm off to confront Snape.
They still needed evidence.
And Snape wasn't the only suspect.
He blurted out, "Darren, don't listen to Ron's nonsense — Snape might actually have been doing what you said! Maybe he was trying to stop the curse! Maybe he'll even teach me the counterspell and— Ow! Ron, stop stepping on me!"
Harry grimaced.
Truth be told, he doubted Snape would ever teach him a spell in his entire life.
But he needed Darren calm.
If Darren rushed off, that simple-hearted bravery of his would get him killed.
"We saw him by the three-headed dog too—"
Ron started to explain, then noticed Harry signaling him to drop it.
He reluctantly shut up.
"Don't talk nonsense," Hagrid interrupted gruffly. "Professor Snape isn't stealing anything! He's one of the people helping guard it! If he wanted it, he'd have taken it long ago."
Darren nodded immediately.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged confused looks.
Darren?
The least troublesome?
Since when?
"By the way… who's Flamel?" Harry asked.
Hagrid froze.
"L–Lu Wei — that three-headed dog — is mine. Dumbledore borrowed him for guard duty."
"What's it guarding?"
"That's between Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel!" Hagrid roared. "And none of your business!"
"Nicolas Flamel…" Ron whispered.
Hagrid realized he'd said too much and burst into a panic.
He shoved them all out of the hut and slammed the door shut.
Outside, Harry sighed heavily.
"So Snape is definitely—"
He saw Darren's unimpressed eyes.
"—I mean, maybe someone bad exists somewhere in school. Hypothetically."
He coughed awkwardly.
"But that person must want whatever Dumbledore and Flamel hid under the trapdoor. Now the question is — does anyone know who Nicolas Flamel actually is?"
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