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Chapter 170 – I Should Have Said It Earlier!!
The reward was called the Gaze of the Basilisk.
Darren wasn't sure what it meant yet…
But he certainly wasn't someone who would willingly miss out on a reward.
When he noticed everyone staring at him, his face drained of color—paler, paler still—until he looked nearly bloodless. Only then did he speak, voice trembling with a hint of self-mockery.
"Lately… I've been hearing these horrible voices…"
Harry suddenly blurted out, "Something like—'tear him… kill him… tear him apart'?"
Darren's head snapped toward him in genuine horror.
"Yes—yes! Brother, how did you know?!"
Harry stared back with the exact same fear.
The realization hit both of them instantly.
They had both been hearing it.
And both had kept silent—because neither wanted to worry the other.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry demanded, panic rising.
"I'm sorry, brother…"
Seeing Darren's guilty expression, Harry let out a long, heavy sigh.
He hadn't told Darren for fear of scaring him—but he never imagined Darren could hear it too.
If even one of them had spoken up earlier, they might have understood what was happening by now.
But looking at Darren's eyes, wet with helpless guilt, Harry felt the blame fall squarely on himself.
He was the older brother.
He should have said something.
"Hmph! Enough of this act," Filch snapped. "What horrible sounds? I've been at Hogwarts longer than any of you—I've never heard anything like that! Dumbledore, let me take these two. I'll deal with them like before. They'll tell the truth then!"
His glare sharpened on the boys.
Darren instinctively flinched back—then immediately stepped forward again, shielding Harry.
"Mr. Filch, I swear I'm telling the truth," Darren said, voice shaking. "If the voice I heard is false… let me be sent back to that orphanage… or let me be killed by Voldemort."
The voice was real.
So the oath cost him nothing.
He hadn't sworn that every detail he said was true—only that the sound was.
"Oh, everyone swears nowadays," Filch muttered darkly.
But the fire in his voice had noticeably dimmed.
Snape spoke then, drawling slowly, "Well, Filch… considering there are several professors here, all fully capable of judging the truth… perhaps we should simply let Potter continue. Even if he's making it up."
Darren looked at him with shining gratitude.
"Thank you for believing me, Professor Snape."
Snape's expression twitched with irritation.
He hadn't meant it kindly—why was the brat thanking him?
Stupid little cub.
Seeing someone was willing to listen, Darren offered a small, gentle smile—too warm, too bright—and Snape immediately looked away with a sharp, disgusted little snort.
He never wanted to see that smile again.
Darren continued obediently.
"At the banquet… I was a bit sad, because my brother didn't take me to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party—"
Harry sighed loudly.
Moments ago, when he and Hermione and Ron were trapped in the corridor, he'd been grateful Darren wasn't with them.
And yet Darren had run off on his own after all.
Darren caught the expression and ducked his head even lower.
"I was feeling down at the feast when I suddenly heard the voice," Darren continued softly. "It said it was hungry…"
He swallowed nervously.
"I didn't know what it was, but something hungry… it could be some giant beast. Something that eats students. So I followed it, trying to find it. Since I handled a troll in first year… I thought maybe I could—"
Snape snorted loudly.
"Typical Gryffindor recklessness."
Darren's guilt deepened. Mist gathered in his green eyes, but seeing everyone waiting, he pushed on.
"I followed it to the girls' bathroom on the lower floor. I tried to find tracks, but… nothing. I could only feel it was still nearby, so I stayed there to guard the place…"
He shuddered.
"I don't know how long it stayed. Suddenly it moved again. I don't know where from—just that it ran. I kept following the voice through the halls, searching everywhere, and just when I thought I'd caught up—"
His voice cracked.
"I saw my brother, and Ron, and Hermione. I almost thought they'd been attacked…"
A chime echoed in Darren's mind.
Basilisk's Gaze:
Immunity to the lethal gaze of a Basilisk.
(The Basilisk, deep underground, had awakened. But it sensed the one before it was not its true master.
And as it roamed… it found the aura of its young master.)
Before Darren could examine it further, Dumbledore spoke gently.
"Is that everything?"
Darren nodded firmly, making sure he hadn't missed a single detail.
Then his shoulders slumped.
"Actually… when I saw Mrs. Norris, I felt awful. She must've been attacked by whatever was making that voice. I should've told a professor earlier…"
His eyes reddened.
Filch's expression softened—just a fraction.
After entering Dumbledore's office, he had realized Darren couldn't possibly have done this.
But moments ago, in the panic of thinking his beloved cat was dead, he'd accused the boy anyway.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Filch!" Darren bowed deeply, sincerely.
Filch's eyes went wet.
He turned away abruptly, unable to face Darren any longer.
Harry let out a small breath beside him.
Filch had just spent minutes raging at them, and now—when he realized he'd wronged Darren—he didn't even apologize.
But Harry couldn't bring himself to resent it.
Filch's only companion had nearly been killed.
He was grieving.
Then Harry made the mistake of glancing at Snape.
Snape was smiling at him.
A slick, greasy, malicious smile.
Harry's stomach dropped.
He knew instantly that Snape was plotting something unpleasant for him.
ps: Don't worry about Darren exposing Voldemort's bloodline later—there will be proper handling, no abuse , and everything will fit the story's tone naturally. Enjoy Darren's Hogwarts life with the author!
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