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Chapter 742: Griphook's Conditions!!
Although Harry was deeply moved, he still felt that Darren should keep his own wand.
Without a wand, many spells would be difficult for Darren to cast.
Harry sighed.
Then he handed over two wands.
"Can you check these for me? Can I use them?
I seem to only be able to properly use Darren's wand. The others just don't work well."
Harry said uneasily.
Ollivander took the two wands.
He examined them carefully before speaking.
"Walnut wood and dragon heartstring… this is Bellatrix's wand. Its allegiance now belongs to Darren Potter.
And this one… formerly Narcissa's wand. Its allegiance has also shifted—to Darren Potter."
"Formerly?"
Harry asked in confusion.
Ollivander nodded.
"Yes. Their allegiance has changed.
I once said—the wand chooses the wizard. When a wand is won, its master changes as well."
"Does that apply to all wands?"
Harry asked.
Ollivander shook his head.
He glanced at Darren's wand.
"Generally, yes. But there are differences between Eastern and Western wandlore.
Eastern wands value loyalty far more. They rarely change allegiance.
Western wands, however, are more flexible.
It is rare for Eastern wand materials to reach us… I was surprised when I was given the dragon's reverse scale.
Perhaps… they recognized Darren's potential early on.
They believed he would win."
Darren fell silent.
After a long pause, he asked quietly:
"Then… the Elder Wand… will it also change allegiance if taken?"
Ollivander nodded.
"Yes. That wand, more than any other, is bound to conquest, death, and power.
It changes hands through defeat."
Darren nodded slowly.
He turned to leave.
But Harry suddenly asked one more question.
"Do you really believe the Elder Wand exists?"
"Yes."
Ollivander replied without hesitation.
"There are far too many traces of it in history for it to be a myth."
They stepped out of the room.
Darren suddenly said:
"Brother… feel his thoughts."
Harry instinctively obeyed.
The next moment—
He felt as if he were drifting beside Snape.
Then the perspective shifted—
He was no longer himself.
He was watching through someone else's eyes.
Anger surged.
"So… Darren Potter has truly escaped?"
"Yes."
Snape replied coldly.
The anger deepened.
He should have confined Darren more tightly.
He should never have allowed him any freedom.
But it didn't matter.
That would be corrected soon.
Because now—
He knew where the Elder Wand was.
Soon, Harry Potter would die.
"Return to the castle. I will meet you later."
The voice commanded.
Snape left.
The figure moved deeper into the castle.
Step by step.
Careful. Deliberate.
No shortcuts.
Not until everything was secured.
Then—
Night fell.
He stood before a white marble tomb.
He looked at it with cold amusement.
Then raised his wand.
The tomb split open from end to end.
Inside lay a thin body, wrapped in burial robes.
The cloth parted.
The familiar face was revealed.
Still wearing those same half-moon spectacles.
Calm. Lifeless.
Yet dignified.
And in his hands—
A wand.
He raised his own wand.
The Elder Wand flew into his grasp.
Sparks flared at its tip.
The allegiance had changed.
Harry snapped back to reality.
Silence filled the room.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all felt the same thought creeping in—
If Darren had the Elder Wand…
Maybe he would be safer.
But Darren shook his head.
"No.
First, I cannot take the Elder Wand from Headmaster Dumbledore's grave.
Second, I don't believe he ever wanted me—or Harry—to possess it.
Even now… I think his death may have been part of a plan.
Though I still struggle to accept that.
But I believe… he did not want to be saved.
Third… I believe the Elder Wand is more useful in the Dark Lord's hands—for now.
That's based on something I cannot explain yet.
Our responsibility is simple.
Find the Horcruxes.
Destroy them."
Darren's expression was firm.
Ron muttered:
"Dumbledore always kept secrets… if only he could come back as a ghost…"
"No."
Darren said softly.
"He won't come back."
Harry looked at him.
Then spoke quietly:
"He's gone on… few choose to return.
Dumbledore wouldn't choose that path."
Harry's voice faltered.
If Darren died—
He wouldn't come back either.
"Darren."
Bill's voice came from outside the window.
Darren opened it.
"What is it?"
"Griphook wants to see you.
Darren… I don't know what you're planning, but… I hope you stay safe."
"We'll try."
Darren said with a faint smile.
"At least until the final battle."
But Bill didn't smile.
He stared at Darren, as if waiting for a promise.
Darren shook his head.
"I can't promise that.
No one can.
This is war… people will die.
How could it be otherwise?"
Bill's eyes reddened.
He turned away.
Darren sighed quietly and walked toward Griphook's room.
Harry and the others followed.
They all understood.
This was a truth no one wanted—
But everyone had to accept.
Inside the room—
Griphook sat by the fire.
When he saw Darren, his expression hardened.
"I will help you."
He said coldly.
"But you must agree to my condition.
Otherwise—we part ways."
Darren nodded.
"Speak."
"I want the sword."
Griphook said.
"The Sword of Gryffindor. That is my price."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione reacted instantly.
"No! That's too important!"
"You can't have it!"
"Ask for something else!"
Darren remained silent.
For a long moment—
He said nothing.
Then quietly:
"We need to think about it."
Griphook snorted.
"Take your time."
Darren turned to leave.
But Hermione stopped him.
She pulled him back.
Then spoke firmly:
"We'll give you the sword.
But under one condition.
You must swear to ensure Darren's safety.
If you betray us—
We will throw the sword to the Dark Lord then giving it to you."
Griphook stared at her.
Then nodded.
"Deal."