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Chapter 199: Darren Porter is Simply Poisonous
Fudge was both shocked and furious.
What on earth was going on with this boy?
Was he so naive that he could only be described as foolish? Or was he truly playing a dangerous game, hiding something enormous?
He glanced at Dumbledore's solemn expression, and a wave of anxiety swept over him.
If Darren Porter reveals any specifics of collusion with the Death Eaters… Fudge thought. Then Dumbledore could be accused of raising a small Death Eater with his own hands. And this little Death Eater happens to be Harry Potter's younger brother… that would overshadow Harry's heroic reputation. Everyone could be discredited!
"So… tell me, how did you let them go?" Fudge demanded.
[Ding: The Holy Father system senses an opportunity. Temporary mission activated: Speak a series of false words in a stuttering, hesitant tone. Upon completion, look at Fudge with a bitter smile as if seeking his opinion.]
[Ding: Mission reward – gain illusion of Umbridge. Accept the mission?]
Darren's lips twitched. Ah, the system is collaborating. He had intended to expose all the worst accusations and ultimately pin them on Fudge.
The students had already seen their parents; it was obvious that Fudge had collected some favor in advance.
A little display of pity was normal—hence Darren's performance at the courtroom door, pretending to be cowed by Fudge. But now, even the system was pushing him along.
He hesitated a moment, then accepted the illusion. We can't make the Minister wait.
Bowing his head, Darren paled even further. He seemed to think for an eternity before speaking:
"I used… a large Phantom Transfiguration spell I saw in a book. It… it can transfer people just by imagining the destination… so I used it to get them all away…"
His stuttered explanation sounded absurd, a patchwork of words that barely made sense.
Fudge froze. He didn't dare correct Darren. He hadn't even realized that Darren's gaze was now fixed squarely on him.
Seeing that Fudge remained motionless, Darren's face grew even paler, and his body trembled unconsciously—like he was recalling some dreadful consequence.
Everyone in the courtroom stared at Fudge. Could it be that he forced the boy to say this?
[Ding: Mission complete. Reward – Umbridge illusion activated.]
Umbridge's delusion: Umbridge always sees you as her own.
In the illusion, Umbridge seemed to regard everything you did as instructions, as if the Minister himself were behind Darren's actions. If Darren went too far, however, Umbridge might doubt his intelligence.
Darren chuckled inwardly at the thought. If this were the fifth year, Umbridge might actually have come to Hogwarts herself. Could I be her most trusted operative? Ridiculous!
But the trial remained the priority. Fudge, now realizing Darren was clearly a victim and not a Death Eater, was unsettled. His previous assumptions, his little mental calculations, were shattered.
Yet a new problem emerged: he had to get Darren to change his testimony. If Darren's confession were published in the Daily Prophet, Fudge would appear incompetent, the Ministry humiliated, and his political rivals empowered.
Damn it! Fudge thought. How did it come to this? I knew Darren Porter would come to trial—but this boy is poisonous!
The kindness that had once seemed to be Darren's weakness now acted as an impenetrable shield. Fudge forced a kind smile, trying to coax Darren:
"This spell you mention… it wouldn't have let those Death Eaters go. You can't be serious!"
"Minister, I'm serious. I let them go on purpose… I am a sinner. Arrest me!"
[Ding, Father +60]
[Ding, Father +70]
[Ding, Father +60]
Darren accepted the Father points and spoke with bitter determination. His face radiated self-abandonment so deeply that no one could ignore his mood.
It was clear to everyone that Darren had just survived a brutal conflict in the wizarding world. Nine wizards had died. He himself had been seriously injured. How could he not be grieving?
Aurors typically conducted psychological counseling after battles like this. Darren was still just a child. He blamed himself for the deaths of others, and his sorrow manifested on his face.
The six students sitting near Darren did not exhibit this kind of remorse. Observing Darren's performance, they assumed the situation was minor or easily managed. They failed to realize: only the truly good feel such guilt and sorrow.
Fudge, too, felt a twinge of unease. But after this fleeting empathy came a deep, uncomfortable silence.
What could he do?
How could he explain Darren Porter's kindness and grief to the wider world? Would he admit that, because proper counseling was not provided, a child now carried the weight of the deaths around him?
And now, this child intended to take responsibility for everything himself.
Fudge knew—if Dumbledore found out, he would be blamed. He had long felt Dumbledore's quiet resentment, and now he could almost hear it in the room.
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