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Chapter 212 – Forced by the Minister!!
"Not so!"
"We didn't do anything like that!"
"We didn't do it—he did it on purpose! He wasn't affected by the vomit!"
"The spit is fake!"
"He made it up!"
Several Slytherin students shouted over one another, frantic to clear themselves.
It was impossible for them to have gone that far. Mischief, yes—but murder? None of them had the courage for that, and they all knew it.
"Shut up!"
Fudge rounded on them, his face twisted with annoyance.
There was no righteous fury in him—only disgust, as though these students were an inconvenience.
He didn't believe they were innocent. He simply knew their reputations were finished once this incident spread. Even testimony extracted under Veritaserum could only be used for reference, not taken as hard evidence.
Trying to comfort them would be pointless. Better to bark at them and pretend to stand for justice.
"Do you have any evidence?"
Fudge turned sharply to Darren.
"My wand can be checked from beginning to end."
Fudge signaled for the witch from earlier to examine it.
She lifted Darren's wand—but it resisted her magic. The wand refused to show the trace of its previous spell.
"This is a cypress wand," Nicolas Flamel said calmly. "It only yields to someone loyal and steadfast. If the owner allows it, someone else may use it… Let me try."
He took the wand and cast Priori Incantatem.
A faint echo of magic appeared—a simple Forgetting Charm. Exactly what Darren had said.
Nicolas smiled faintly, but then his expression darkened in an instant.
Darren saw Dumbledore's face turn a frightening shade. He had never seen him so furious. Perhaps Dumbledore had never encountered a student subjected to such treatment.
Harry's eyes were red, constantly wiping at his face.
Snape stood rigidly, hollow-eyed, as though none of this truly touched him.
The scene alone was almost enough to clear Darren entirely.
By all logic, the matter should have been closed.
But Fudge—and the parents—had other intentions.
They needed a stain on Darren.
They needed something to justify the mess they had created.
They turned to Rita Skeeter.
If anyone could dig up "dark history," she would.
Rita strutted toward Darren, eyes gleaming, the same invasive curiosity she always wore for a good scandal.
She asked sweetly, "Since you say you're not in league with Death Eaters, why didn't you speak up earlier? Was it because you knew you'd be doused in vomit and wanted the sympathy?"
"Fudge, reporters are not authorized to question him," Dumbledore said sharply.
"No, no, reporters certainly are! And Rita asked an excellent—"
Fudge's excitement was cut off by Darren's calm voice.
"It was Minister Fudge…" Darren said quietly. "I believe he threatened me. When I woke up at St Mungo's, there was a note in my hand."
He paused.
"It said I was to confess to colluding with Death Eaters. If I didn't, he would hand my brother over to them. I had no choice."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
Darren's voice stayed steady, almost flat—but everyone could hear the weight behind his words, the fear he must have felt when he first read that note.
"Rubbish! Lies! I never—give him the antidote! Shut him up NOW!"
Fudge exploded.
"This is false—all of it! A baseless accusation!"
Dumbledore stepped between them.
"I'd like to see who dares interrupt him. Let Potter continue."
Fudge never realized Darren was taking all the blame onto himself only because of Fudge's actions.
"Darren," Dumbledore said, controlled but grave, "was Minister Fudge's name on the note? Or could this be a misunderstanding?"
"The note was in the pocket of my hospital robes. At first, I thought a Death Eater put it there." Darren lifted his eyes. "And I was in such bad condition that I believed it…"
As he spoke, someone pulled the exact note from Darren's robe pocket.
Everything matched Darren's description.
The handwriting even resembled Fudge's.
But—
"The next day, before my hearing, Minister Fudge questioned me," Darren continued. "He asked whether I still intended to say what I'd written."
"I saw the threat in his eyes. That was when I began to suspect it had been him all along."
He went on, steady as ever.
"My ward at St Mungo's had been locked down by Minister Fudge. Only he and the Healer were allowed inside. That alone made me suspicious."
Cameras flashed nonstop.
Reporters already had tomorrow's headline in mind.
"He's lying, Dumbledore! You can't believe him! His words are vague—how can he be sure it was me? I never threatened him!"
"Fudge," Dumbledore said coldly, "no one can lie under Veritaserum. And this is Veritaserum. Everyone here has confirmed it."
"Well—well yes, but what Potter said is still only an assumption! You can't arrest me over—"
Dumbledore calmly pointed to his wand.
Fudge's voice faltered.
"Yes," Dumbledore said, "and that is why I want Darren to continue."
He turned back.
"So, Darren—how did you finally determine it was Minister Fudge?"
"After the trial," Darren said, "my brother, my friends, my professors—they all showed me they cared. It made me want to live."
"But then I received a letter from Minister Fudge. The handwriting matched the note exactly."
"Only then did I realize the truth."
He inhaled.
"I didn't want to believe it. But everything pointed to the same person."
"The Death Eaters entering Hogwarts quietly… that could only happen with Ministry involvement."
"Only the Ministry could cover for them. Only Minister Fudge had that authority."
"And despite all this time passing after I was attacked, he still hadn't caught a single Death Eater."
"So I wondered… did he fail to catch them? Or did he never intend to?"
His voice lowered.
"Those Death Eaters are so bold they've begun distributing memory balls openly, provoking everyone—and yet they remain untouched. Even thinking about it chills me. Everyday, I can feel my whole body shake, I—"
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