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Chapter 202: No One Can Save You
Darren felt a twinge of embarrassment.
The photo ball he had created was entirely a product of his imagination, yet it was tragically realistic. He had intended to show how wronged he had been, to prove his innocence, and at first, the idea of letting it be seen didn't bother him. It was, after all, a way to create a Holy Father image for himself.
But now… seeing it in front of him, right here, felt awkward—like a parent watching a child's little play. His fingers trembled slightly, his face filled with silent refusal.
"Darren, sometimes people need to face the truth… to face those who've suffered," Dumbledore said calmly, noticing Darren's hesitation.
Darren understood that Dumbledore wanted to counsel him.
"I'm fine… Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm fine. I don't need to see it. If you want, I can leave first…"
He refused.
Standing up, he bowed briefly—without the usual courtesy—and walked out of Dumbledore's office.
"Darren!" Dumbledore called after him.
But Darren didn't pause. He continued through the office doorway.
"Potter! Where are you going? Come back!"
At the door, he saw Snape. The professor's expression was sharp, irritated. He reached out as if to grab Darren.
Darren dodged, his expression blank, and walked past without a backward glance. He wouldn't subject himself to even a "little movie" for Snape.
Of course, this was also revenge for the last time Snape had threatened him.
Snape stood frozen as the boy left. The anger he had felt at Darren taking all the blame during the trial had vanished without a trace.
Yes, the boy no longer saw him as the professor to trust. That bond had been severed—by Darren himself—and now Snape could only accept it.
He thought he should feel relief, but instead, an emptiness spread through his chest.
Snape was silent, until suddenly his black robes swirled and he stormed through the office door, laughing sarcastically.
Finally.
The boy had been inexplicably trusted and adored, and Snape had had enough. How could his greasy, gloomy old self need any of that?
"Severus? There you are. Have you seen Darren?" Dumbledore's voice called out, startled by Snape's abrupt entrance.
"Of course I saw that disrespectful little cub! And if you wonder why I didn't stop him—why didn't you stop him yourself?" Snape barked. "Don't spare him!"
"How dare you speak to the headmaster like that?"
"Oh my God! There's such a professor in this school, Dumbledore! You should expel him!"
Snape's words made the portraits on the walls murmur angrily.
"Then it must be up to the headmaster to expel me!" Snape shot back. "Yes, yes, you can try—but see if he listens! When someone's dead, they should look dead. And if they're fine, then don't speak!"
The portraits muttered and shook, unable to refute Snape. They didn't understand what had come over him, but they were furious, glancing at Dumbledore, hoping he would teach Snape a lesson.
"Severus, what's gotten into you?" Dumbledore asked calmly, surprised rather than angry.
Snape's eyes darkened. "I'm fine. Headmaster… what did you want me to do? Just stop Potter? I couldn't stop him… and now I have to correct the homework of students whose brains are stuffed with mustard seeds!"
"You don't look fine…" Dumbledore said softly. "I called you here to look at this photo ball together, but Darren didn't want to see it.
Perhaps he still can't accept what happened that day. It was the first time I'd seen him so disrespectful… I put too much pressure on him. I should have known that for his character, this was too cruel."
Snape's sarcasm returned. "Let Potter see the scene of his torture, Dumbledore? How admirable of you!"
"No, Severus, stop blaming me. I've been blaming myself these past days… I doubted Darren too much, expected too much, but never gave him the love he needed most. I made the same mistake as before."
"Well, Dumbledore can make mistakes too?" Snape mocked. His eyes were hollow, empty again.
Dumbledore sighed, hesitated, then held out the Shadow Ball. "Severus… accompany an old man and see this cruel image."
Snape said nothing. His gaze was hollow, wooden, emotionless.
From the Shadow Ball came screams, desperate and terrifying:
"Give Potter a Soul Reaper Charm ( Imperius Curse)… Potter, you're going to kill Harry Potter… Hurry! Kill him… Oh no, he broke the Soul Reaper Curse (ImperiusCurse)!"
"You went and killed Potter!"
"Potter, you're dead… no one can save you!"
"Potter, don't come near… if you do, we'll really kill someone, Avada—"
"Potter, get on your knees! Beg us, and we'll let them go!"
"Potter… didn't expect that? No matter how strong you are, you can't save everyone!"
"Potter, they blame you for their deaths… why don't you die?"
"Potter, you be damned!"
"Potter, you killed them!"
"Potter, it's your fault!"
"Potter, I won't let you go!"
Boom!
The office exploded in chaos. Items shattered, magical debris flying everywhere. Portraits were ripped from the walls, their subjects panicking and hiding.
"Severus!" Dumbledore cried, concern etched on his face.
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