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Chapter 193 — No One Knows a Potter Better Than I Do!!
Harry had assumed Dumbledore wouldn't notice his anxious glances.
But the moment Harry looked over, he found the Headmaster looking directly back at him.
Dumbledore gave the slightest nod.
Harry understood: Lucius Malfoy won't cause trouble. I've handled it.
He let out a breath.
Sure enough, Lucius did not mention being forced or threatened. He merely said calmly:
"Thank you for your concern, Minister. I am quite well. As for the current situation, I know little—so we must rely on Dumbledore's explanation."
Harry nearly sagged with relief.
Dumbledore really was the greatest wizard alive. Whatever he had done, it worked.
But admiration was a strange feeling now. Harry still remembered watching Dumbledore order Snape to give Darren the real potion.
So even as he respected Dumbledore's skill, he couldn't help being wary.
Unbeknownst to him, Dumbledore was equally surprised.
His earlier nod was only meant to reassure Harry that he could fix things even if Lucius complained—yet Lucius had said nothing at all.
That alone made Dumbledore suspicious. Lucius rarely did anything without a plan.
But he set that aside and turned to Fudge.
"The surviving children are all here, except Darren," Dumbledore said. "Darren is still unconscious in St. Mungo's. However, these six can already provide plenty of information."
"Dumbledore," Fudge snorted, "I'm perfectly aware of how to do my job."
He turned toward the boys, eyes narrowing. A cruel little smile tugged at his mouth.
"Well then, children… why don't you tell me who caused all this? Perhaps someone wanted something for themselves?"
"Fudge," Dumbledore said sharply, "no one wanted this—except the Death Eaters who carried it out."
"Oh, I'm only asking questions." Fudge gave a fake laugh. "Hogwarts would never… well, I assume not. So—who started it?"
He glared at the boys with an expression meant to intimidate.
It worked.
"It was Darren!" one Slytherin blurted immediately. "He let them go! If not for him, the Death Eaters wouldn't have escaped!"
"Rubbish!"
"You liar!"
"Darren saved your lives!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione shouted at once.
The Slytherins didn't mention how Darren shielded them, begged for them, bled for them—only that he didn't capture the enemies in the end.
Harry's anger exploded.
"Darren should have let you all die there!"
Fudge's eyes flickered toward Harry—and to the lightning scar on his forehead.
"Oh my," he said with forced sympathy. "Harry Potter. I heard it was his brother who was hurt. Dumbledore… do you suppose this could be connected?"
His tone turned sly.
"Could someone be attempting to control the Boy Who Lived? Perhaps someone tried to murder his brother… but failed, resulting in the deaths of other innocent students?"
He said it mildly, but triumph gleamed in his eyes.
His hatred of Dumbledore was unmistakable.
After a short exchange of barbed words, Fudge gathered the six students.
He declared that the truth would be made public soon—and that a full hearing would be held once Darren awakened.
"As the victim, he must be present," Fudge said pompously. "He must describe everything before a panel of judges. Therefore, the Ministry will take custody of Darren Potter after he wakes. He will be brought directly to trial."
Harry surged forward, furious, but Ron and Hermione held him back.
"Harry, stop!" Hermione hissed. "If you make him angry, he might delay Darren's treatment. He could die!"
Harry froze.
Fudge finally left the office with his escort of students.
Only then did Harry slump into a chair.
Dumbledore exhaled heavily.
"Well," he said, "classes will be suspended. No student is to wander. Meals will be delivered to the common rooms. Severus… please escort these students back."
"No, Headmaster," Snape said coolly. "I have a cauldron of essential potion simmering in my office. I'm not wasting time escorting children."
Without waiting for permission, he swept out.
He clearly didn't want to look at Harry a second longer.
"Headmaster, I'll take them," Professor Flitwick said quickly.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed him out. As they exited, Harry couldn't help glancing back.
He met Dumbledore's blue eyes—then saw a flash of something like realization cross the Headmaster's face.
Harry froze.
He knows.
His heart skipped.
Then he told himself that was ridiculous.
Yes, he had briefly seen the memory of that night—when they were hidden under the Invisibility Cloak, eavesdropping in this very office. But that had to be his imagination. There was no such thing as looking into someone's memories with a glance.
Impossible.
His thoughts vanished when he noticed someone else in the hallway.
Snape hadn't left after all. He stood waiting, arms crossed, staring directly at Harry with undisguised disgust.
As soon as their eyes met, Snape spoke coldly:
"After this little incident with Darren Potter, I've realized something: boys with the surname Potter are all the same—reckless, loud, and catastrophically brainless."
"Severus," Professor Flitwick said sharply, "Darren is too kind! He doesn't think the way others do. You shouldn't say that."
Snape's lip curled. He ignored Flitwick completely, leaned toward Harry, and said with deep sarcasm:
"Flitwick, you don't know the Potters like I do. Recklessness runs in their veins. So, Potter—if I discover you sneaking around after professors again… I will expel you."
Harry blinked.
A moment ago he'd wondered if Snape had softened even a little.
Nope.
Snape was still the exact same jerk as always.
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