NOTE :- this chapter is side story , same as earlies ::-Snape's Memories
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Chapter 220 - Snape's Memories ( side story)
Chapter 220 — How Is That Possible?!!
Snape accompanied them to the second trial.
He stood expressionlessly behind Dumbledore and Harry Potter, hands clasped behind his back, watching as Darren Potter emerged alone from the Slytherin common room, wearing that familiar, gentle smile.
Snape's irritation rose on instinct.
"What are you standing there for, staring like an idiot? Move. They're waiting for you."
The moment the words left his mouth, regret hit him like a punch.
As expected, the boy's face emptied again.
"I'm sorry, Professor," Darren said quietly.
Sorry.
Snape almost laughed at himself.
He wanted to apologize too—wanted to snatch the words back—but he crushed the impulse. He was the one who created this distance. This was the outcome he'd forced.
Wasn't this what he deserved?
The thought sank heavily into him.
At the Ministry, Snape found himself recalling every lie Darren told at the first trial—especially the way he'd twisted the explanation for the phantom transformation). If Snape had known the spell better at the time, the boy might've landed himself in Azkaban with that nonsense.
The more he thought about it, the sharper his temper got.
He launched into a mocking explanation of phantom shapeshifting.
But Darren only replied politely:
"Professor Flitwick would cry if he heard you explain it like that."
Snape ground his teeth.
Darren merely smiled faintly, politely—painfully polite.
Snape fell silent.
Maybe this was really the only ending he deserved.
When an Auror stepped into the waiting room to summon them—"Professor Snape, you may enter with the witness"—Snape's mood worsened.
Potter cubs. Always infuriating. Couldn't say anything simply.
As Darren drifted into a daze, Snape braced himself.
He didn't need Legilimency to know the boy's testimony would be even more devastating than the memory ball.
He was right.
His expression almost slipped.
Darren hadn't spared any Death Eater because the remaining ones had tried to kill him.
He only withheld the truth because he suspected Fudge's involvement.
To protect Harry Potter, he was prepared to ruin himself completely.
When Fudge touched his wand, Snape nearly hexed him on the spot.
Who would have thought that idiot had the nerve?
Not even Dumbledore anticipated what came next.
The parents of the victims had hired reporters—an ambush.
They tried to corner Darren morally, even shoved the memory ball's images in his face.
Snape instinctively moved to pull the boy away—forcing him to watch could trigger a magic riot.
But he couldn't budge Darren.
The boy's body trembled violently, yet he forced himself to keep watching.
Snape's chest tightened painfully.
Why make him relive this?
Dumbledore, sensing the magic spike, blasted the memory ball into shards.
He thought that would help.
It didn't.
The moment Darren saw the scene where Deatheaters trampled the dying students, his mind snapped back into the moment itself.
His pleas filled the courtroom.
And Snape—Merlin help him—felt tears prick his eyes again.
When the decision finally came and the Death Eaters were sentenced to Azkaban, Snape felt no satisfaction.
The boy accepted everything with unnerving calm.
But Snape saw the truth:
From this day on, Darren would continue walking straight into danger and death.
Would he see the death again?
Snape wished the boy would never encounter that omen for the rest of his life.
Or—as Nicolas Flamel once suggested—maybe someone should remove these memories entirely.
But Dumbledore insisted Darren must face them.
"If the child does not face himself," he'd told Snape, "then who else can do it for him?
You? Severus, can you keep him safe forever?
And you know that if he ever learns everything… you will always remain an outsider."
Outsider.
Snape swallowed that truth bitterly.
He didn't even deserve to bind the boy with Veritaserum, let alone claim anything else.
Hogwarts returned to its usual noise.
But Snape found nothing familiar.
Everything had changed.
Because once, during lessons, Darren would glance at him with bright, hopeful eyes.
And when Snape approached his cauldron, the boy waited expectantly—even a curt "acceptable" could make him smile for hours.
Now?
In class, Darren seldom looked at him at all.
He already knew most of the content.
When he finished a potion, he no longer waited for Snape to inspect it.
He simply walked over with perfect politeness.
"Professor, mine is completed."
Snape nearly went mad—but couldn't even name what he was angry about.
Everything was polite.
Everything was distant.
Every Potions lesson became torture.
He almost told the boy that if he didn't want to attend, he didn't have to.
But what if Darren actually stopped coming?
He was brilliant—he didn't need Snape anymore.
The thought made Snape lash out at everyone else instead.
He spent the entire class tormenting students.
Harry Potter's furious expression helped a little.
It was always reassuring to irritate Harry.
But then, without warning, a cauldron on the far side of the room exploded.
Swelling Solution mist flooded the classroom.
Snape's blood pressure spiked.
He whirled, ready to curse the entire group—
"Professor! Look out!"
Darren.
Darren Potter shouted to warn him.
Snape froze.
The boy… still cared?
He couldn't believe it—but he spun around instantly.
A mangled cauldron flew straight toward Darren's face.
Snape's fury snapped back.
That stupid child—using his face to block a cauldron? Why not dunk his entire head into the brew while he was at it?
He moved to scold him—but the words died in his throat.
Darren was looking at him.
Really looking.
Concern in his eyes.
Concern.
Snape's breath hitched.
Was he imagining it?
He wiped swelling potion off his hand irritably and looked again.
Concern.
Or… was it pity?
Sympathy?
The thought stunned him.
He wanted to scoff, to tell the boy he needed none of it—but his voice wouldn't come.
His eyes burned faintly.
Then he noticed something.
The blood on his hand… matched the blood on Darren's cheek.
For a moment, Snape's mind went completely blank.
How is that possible?
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