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Chapter 116 — This Devil's Snare Can't Be Left Behind!!
Darren landed on something soft.
A thick bed of plants.
They writhed slowly under him.
Devil's Snare.
He hesitated. Should he wait for Harry to jump down, let them all get entangled, then perform a dramatic "Holy Father" rescue? Or warn them now?
He chose quickly.
"Brother! It's fine! The bottom's soft!" he yelled.
He wiggled his arms and legs as if checking himself.
Everything looked normal enough.
Above him came three thuds.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had jumped.
"Darren—!" Hermione gasped. "You're so reckless! There are three of us older than you, and you're the youngest—how is it your turn to take the risk?!"
Darren blinked, embarrassed.
"Youngest? Hermione, I'm only twenty minutes younger than Harry. And… I overheard you earlier."
He looked at the ground.
"The Philosopher's Stone—Voldemort wants it. He killed our mum and dad. I'm not letting him get it. Protecting the Stone is our family's mission. I won't let you or Ron get hurt because of it."
His red hair curled upward at the ends, giving him a cute, slightly ridiculous look—but at that moment, he somehow appeared impossibly heroic.
Harry stared at him, throat tight.
"Me too," Harry said. "I felt the same. It's our parents. Voldemort. If he's after the Stone, we… we can't let him win."
He looked at Ron and Hermione with gratitude—they had come anyway.
"But Darren," Harry continued shakily, "even if that's true, I should be the one taking the risks. I'm your older brother. I'm supposed to protect you."
But looking at Darren—his mother's face, those gentle green eyes—Harry couldn't even stay angry.
"Brother," Darren said softly, "you defeated Voldemort once. You were only one year old. You're the Savior. So while you protect the world… I'll stand in front of you. Until you beat him again, I'll protect you."
[Ding, Holy Father Value +100]
[Ding, Holy Father Value +100]
[Ding, Holy Father Value +100]
[Ding, Holy Father Value +100]
[Ding, Holy Father Value +100]
Good grief—was Dumbledore listening this closely tonight?
Darren quickly smothered his smile.
Because Devil's Snare was already creeping around all their ankles.
Slow, silent vines, tightening.
He wondered if this would trigger a new mission—
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[Ding, sensing an opportunity for Holy Father roleplay, a temporary mission is issued:
Use your Obscurus to rescue Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
After saving them, pretend to collapse from exhaustion
and allow the Devil's Snare to pull you back.
Say:
Brother, Hermione, Ron… go. I'm fine, really. Remember… you have to save the wizarding world…
Reward: Favor of Devil's Snare
Accept mission?]
[Accept!]
Darren unleashed his Obscurus in an instant.
A wave of dark, destructive force rippled silently from his body, shredding the Devil's Snare around him into retreating coils.
The vines recoiled violently from the unstable Obscurial energy, buying Darren the opening he needed.
He tore himself free, sprinted to Harry, ripped the vines from his brother, and physically hurled him to safety.
Then Hermione—
Then Ron—
dragging and throwing them clear before collapsing back into the grasping vines, letting the Devil's Snare reclaim him.
"Brother, DON'T come back!" Darren cried.
If Harry entered the vines again, the mission would fail. And controlling the Obscurus twice in one minute? Impossible. He'd blow up half the room.
And he did not want to burn a thousand Holy Father points re-casting the Obscurus
Harry froze.
Darren's green eyes were misty, shining with pain and resolve.
"Brother… Ron… Hermione… go. I'm okay. Really. I remembered… this is Devil's Snare. I'll find a way out."
He forced a smile.
"You have to save the wizarding world…"
---
[Ding, reward granted — Favor of the Devil's Snare]
Favor of Devil's Snare:
A plant that thrives in darkness and moisture. Those it favors possess high affinity for Dark Magic.
Dark Magic Talent +20
Darren stared blankly.
Was the system trying to ruin him?
He now had 92 points in Dark Magic.
Not to brag, but at this point he could invent a new torture curse before breakfast.
If he walked past a talent detector, they'd throw him straight into Azkaban as the third coming of a Dark Lord.
Thank Merlin the wizarding world wasn't very bright.
Still—he'd have to be careful. With this talent, black magic might slip into his wandwork by accident.
If Dumbledore caught a whiff of that… would he exile him? Put him under guard? Pretend not to notice because Darren was too cute?
And what if Darren turned out to be related to Grindelwald?
Would Dumbledore faint? Cry? Draft a new will?
The mental image made Darren snort—then he choked it back.
This was still Holy Father acting time.
No breaking character.
He clamped down on his thoughts just in case Dumbledore's intuition was eavesdropping.
The Devil's Snare's vines stroked his arms, curling around him affectionately.
And suddenly—
With his new knowledge flooding in, Darren realized the plant had countless possible uses.
He blinked.
This Devil's Snare…
He couldn't just leave it here.
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