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Chapter 206 — Fudge's Threatening Letter
Fudge?
What would Fudge be writing to him about now?
Was it to warn him about tomorrow's hearing? To make sure he didn't "speak carelessly" or defend himself too firmly?
He opened the envelope.
The handwriting was messy, almost impatient—clearly written in a rush.
Darren Potter,
I expect you to mind your words and behavior at tomorrow's trial. Consider your position carefully.
I doubt you would want us to use more… effective measures.
—Cornelius Fudge
Ah.
The tone wasn't merely unfriendly—it was openly threatening.
This was the same man who dragged him into court, refused to help, then had the nerve to threaten him the night before the hearing.
Unbelievable.
Completely intolerable.
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[Ding. The system detects a scenario suitable for the Holy Father persona. Temporary mission issued: While holding the letter, display fear and unease. When Harry tries to read it, avoid him.
Say: "Brother, I'm tired… I came straight from St Mungo's. I need to rest."]
[Ding. Reward for mission completion: Forgery Card ×1. Accept?]
A Forgery Card?
That was valuable.
It could produce a flawless counterfeit of anything—or anyone—after death.
Very convenient.
[Accept.]
Darren let his fingers tremble slightly as he looked down at Fudge's letter.
Fear slowly settled over his expression, as though the words were eating at him.
Harry, frowning, leaned in to see.
Darren snapped the letter shut at once.
"Darren?"
Harry's voice tightened. Something was clearly wrong. Why would Darren react like this unless the letter held something unpleasant?
"I'm fine, brother… just tired. I'm going back to sleep for a bit… I'll leave first… I came straight from St Mungo's to the trial, I'm exhausted…"
[Ding. Mission complete. Reward: Forgery Card ×1.]
Another one. Good.
Very good.
This would definitely come in handy later.
Darren stood to leave, but Harry grabbed his arm.
"Darren, I know you're tired. I know you want to rest. But show me the letter first. If it's nothing, I won't hold you up."
Harry's expression was serious—protective.
"Brother, really… it's nothing." Darren forced a soft exhale. "I can even repeat it to you… Minister Fudge's tone just startled me, that's all."
Harry still didn't look convinced.
He held out his hand.
Darren sighed inwardly, patted Harry's shoulder, and handed the letter over.
He planned to reveal everything at the hearing anyway. He would say Fudge had threatened him—because if he didn't testify the way Fudge wanted, the Minister would hand Harry over to the Death Eaters.
That would draw every eye to Fudge.
And the letter? The threat was real enough. Anyone who saw it would believe him.
Fudge had brought this on himself.
Harry didn't know any of this. He was reading Fudge's letter with Hermione at his side. They passed it back and forth, studying every line. Other than the obvious threat, there was nothing hidden, no spellwork, no enchantment.
But would Darren really react like that to a simple letter?
Hermione frowned. Harry frowned harder.
Maybe Darren was simply more afraid of Fudge's authority?
Maybe the Minister's tone had hit a nerve?
And yes—Fudge was threatening him.
Harry bristled. Other people didn't get to threaten Darren. Only Harry was allowed to be harsh with him—and even then, he rarely meant it.
"Hmph. This type of letter… Darren, don't take it to heart," Harry said, handing it back. "Go eat, rest, and be ready for tomorrow. Once it's over, we can finally go back to class."
Darren nodded, pale and shaken—exactly as someone intimidated by the Minister should look.
Harry watched his retreating back, worry still flickering in his eyes.
Hermione hesitated. "Harry… should we tell Professor Dumbledore? Something still feels off. Darren has never been the type to fear a letter. Maybe there's something on it we don't understand?"
Harry exhaled. "You're right. We'll report it. Maybe Dumbledore will see something we missed."
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Hogsmeade
A small rented room.
Rita Skeeter leaned over her desk, chanting softly while a Quick-Quotes Quill scratched furiously across parchment. The feather twitched as though guided by an invisible hand, spewing out line after line.
"…He has green eyes, fiery red hair, and seems to attract attention from nearly every girl at Hogwarts…"
"…The Slytherin students dislike him, which suggests a rather twisted and unstable mindset…"
"…Darren Potter often flaunts his tragic past. Watching others pity him brings him a disturbing sense of satisfaction…"
"…According to my sources, he once assaulted a Slytherin student, leaving another seriously injured…"
Rita stared at the words with something like obsession.
"Oh, my darling quill, write it even more boldly… This won't be over quietly. I must expose him properly…"
She didn't finish.
A sudden force shoved her forward—she toppled from her chair, slamming into the floor.
A woman shimmered into visibility behind her, lowering an Invisibility Cloak with one hand, wand in the other.
"Sorry," the woman said lightly, without the slightest apology in her tone. "I'll be taking your place for a few days."
Her eyes gleamed with calculation.
"I need to get close to that boy and confirm whether he has the item. But honestly—how could anyone steal something directly from Dumbledore? That boy certainly couldn't… so is there another explanation?"
She smirked.
"Well… fortunately, Master finally contacted us. Perhaps this is the chance we've been waiting for."
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