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Chapter 214 — Sudden Moral Kidnapping!!
The moment Darren saw the reporters—and heard the way they spoke—he immediately understood what was happening. These were clearly the parents of the students who were about to be sent to Azkaban. Some were also the families of those who had died.
They didn't want their children's reputation destroyed.
And now that the evidence in the Memory Balls was overwhelming, only Darren could overturn it.
As long as Darren said the Memory Balls were fake—fabricated scenes, forged cruelty—the students might be able to clear themselves.
Those parents knew Darren was soft-hearted.
So they deliberately sent reporters to corner him.
If Darren refused to agree… if he didn't "forgive" the students…
Then he wasn't kind at all.
He was calculating.
Pretending to be merciful while sending children to Azkaban unharmed himself.
Some people always think like that.
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**[Ding. The system has detected the Holy Father Scenario. Temporary Task Released:
Stare at the Memory Ball, let your body gradually tremble.
After one minute, clutch your head and whisper:
"Don't kill me… don't kill me… please, I have to go back and tell my brother someone wants to kill him…"]**
**[Reward: Execution Card ×1.
Accept the task?]**
[Accept.]
And of course… that alone wasn't enough.
He'd need a bit more later.
But first—performance.
Darren blinked, eyes fixed on the Memory Ball playing above the hall. It replayed the scene of him barely surviving spell after spell. The students' faces twisted into cruel smiles.
You could even hear their voices clearly:
"Kill Potter, and afterward we'll say the Death Eaters did it!"
"Yes! The Death Eaters will never guess he died after they left."
"Maybe they'll be pleased!"
"Everyone will be!"
"Hurry—Potter doesn't dare fight us. Finish him!"
The Darren inside the Memory Ball lay on the ground, bloodied and terrified, not once raising his wand against them.
"Darren, don't look!"
Harry grabbed his arm, trying to drag him away.
But Darren continued staring silently.
His body had begun to shake.
Reporters kept shouting questions, quills thrust nearly into his face.
Snape finally snapped.
"Enough! Ask another question like that and I will personally feed each of you a bottle of my vomiting potion—let's see how you enjoy reporting then!"
"Severus."
Dumbledore cut him off gently.
"Take Darren away. I'll handle this."
"If I could take him, I would not still be here!" Snape barked.
At that moment Darren's trembling suddenly intensified—too strong for even Snape to move him.
Dumbledore's eyes sharpened.
With a wave of his hand—
CRACK.
The Memory Ball in the nearest reporter's hand exploded.
Inside it, Darren had just been shown desperately begging the students to let him go.
And that was exactly when Darren's internal timer ended.
One minute. Perfect system timing.
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The Ministry Aurors marched in at that moment, dragging the six students forward. The students froze when they saw Darren.
Darren saw them too.
He backed away sharply, clutched his head—
"Please! Don't kill me! Don't kill me! I have to tell my brother—someone is going to kill him!"
His voice cracked.
"If you don't want me to leave… at least let me write him a note so he knows—please, please…"
"Those were Death Eaters! They'll come back—they'll hurt my brother, they'll hurt everyone—please… or swear to me you'll warn him. I won't make you kill me. I can… I can do it myself…"
"Why do I have to beg you? Do you know how many people will die?"
[Ding. Task complete. Reward granted: Execution Card ×1.]
Execution Card:
Allows the host to instruct a target to do something, while the target believes the idea is completely their own.
(Do not use it in inappropriate situations. The system will rebel.)
Darren's expression twitched.
How could the system think he'd use it like that?
This was a deep misunderstanding between a man and his system.
Before Darren could recover, Harry seized him.
"Darren! Darren, wake up! Please—don't scare me—"
Darren fell silent mid-breakdown.
Harry instantly panicked, thinking Darren was losing control or about to enter a magical burst.
But Darren's mind wasn't on that.
He had just thought of something.
[System—get me a Boggart under my control.]
**[Ding. Five hundred Father Points required.
You may command its form.
If the host wants it placed at a specific location, add another one hundred Father Points.]**
[Deduct it. Put it behind the cabinet behind me.]
[Ding. Deployed.]
Darren glanced behind him—the cabinet was exactly where he had retreated.
Perfect.
He nearly laughed.
This would be a surprise they would never forget.
He stumbled dramatically, falling onto the cabinet—
The door burst open.
A figure stepped out, identical to Conté, wand raised, laughing wildly:
"Darren Potter—die!"
The Boggart shifted form instantly—becoming another of the students. Then another. Each lifted a wand, closing in, ready to kill.
Darren tried to scramble away, legs shaking too badly to stand.
But he did not fling a single spell at any of them.
"Impossible—IMPOSSIBLE!"
"What is that?!"
"That's not us! That's not us at all!"
"Y-yes! That must be what the Memory Ball recorded—it's fake! We can take Veritaserum! We never wanted to kill him!"
They shouted desperately.
The reporters, who had clearly been invited by their families, looked horrified—even they could no longer defend the students.
A witch pointed, trembling.
"Ha—this is a Boggart.
You don't even know what a Boggart is?"
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