Chapter 537 – Is He Dead, Right?!
"Dumbledore!"
Snape shouted angrily, having almost completely lost his reason.
"He's dead, isn't he? He died together with the Dark Lord, right?!"
"The girl you were looking for was completely useless, wasn't she? In fact, you had already calculated his death long ago, hadn't you?!"
"Darren doesn't necessarily—"
Sirius Black tried to stand up as he spoke.
But Snape had already raised his wand and pointed it at him.
"Exactly. He's dead," Snape roared. "Then you can all die with him!"
Sirius Black's face turned pale, yet he still tried to reach for his wand. Remus Lupin rushed forward at the same time.
They tried to grab Snape's wand and calm him down, but Snape's mind was filled with despair.
When he felt the Dark Mark on his arm gradually fading, he knew that Voldemort had been seriously injured—perhaps even on the verge of death. That was the only explanation.
If Voldemort was pushed to such a state, then that little cub must be dead.
When he saw the scattered flesh on the ground, it felt like a thunderbolt striking him under a clear sky. The cub had blown himself up.
Completely gone.
All of this had been a task entrusted to him by Dumbledore.
Then why didn't Dumbledore know Voldemort's location?
Why didn't Dumbledore follow the cub?
Why did Dumbledore let him die?!
"You promised me… you promised me…"
"Professor, I'm still alive."
Darren grabbed Snape's hand just as he was about to strike.
His face was pale, but he was standing there intact.
Voldemort had somehow obtained a potion and even gave Darren a bottle.
The fake injuries on Darren's body had been restored—of course, not completely.
It was only enough to repair the previously shattered flesh and prevent him from dying from excessive blood loss. Voldemort, fearing misunderstanding after Darren's return, had even tampered with his memory.
In that memory, Darren believed that Voldemort had been preparing to Apparate away with him. At the last moment, Voldemort had intended to drink the potion, but Darren had snatched it and drunk it himself, preparing to fight Voldemort again—only to be shaken off and abandoned.
When Darren recalled this, he felt complicated emotions.
He genuinely felt that Voldemort had practically torn out his heart and lungs for him.
If he met Voldemort again in the future… should he really try that hard to deal with him? Maybe next time, he shouldn't push Voldemort this far.
Darren returned in a conflicted state.
The moment he came back, he saw Snape on the verge of dragging everyone down with him.
So he grabbed Snape's hand.
Snape stared at him in disbelief.
"Does it hurt?" he asked in a trembling voice.
"It doesn't hurt… You'll still have to trouble yourself to teach me potion-making again, Professor. Otherwise, I might really die next time."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
Darren rolled up his sleeve.
Everyone saw that his arm looked like pieces of flesh forcibly stitched together.
"…I don't know where Voldemort got that potion," Darren said weakly. "I snatched it and drank it. It was extremely uncomfortable… cough…"
He coughed up a mouthful of blood mixed with fragments of internal organs.
Snape's eyes instantly turned red.
He didn't even dare to touch Darren, afraid that Darren would fall apart at the slightest contact. He immediately went off to brew a potion.
During Snape's absence, even Dumbledore didn't dare to approach Darren.
Darren looked at their cautious expressions and felt a faint urge to laugh.
In a hoarse voice, he said, "Don't be afraid. I promise you, I'll definitely recover."
"Voldemort didn't escape unscathed, and neither did I. For a long time, he won't be able to stir up any trouble."
"The only regret is that I couldn't save Dean Perkins. Voldemort killed him right in front of me."
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'll take revenge on him."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
Dumbledore wanted to scold him harshly.
Was it really worth risking his life against Voldemort just for Dean Perkins?
But when he looked at Darren, he knew the answer.
If Darren said it, he would do it.
For Darren, that was the only correct choice.
"Oh, right, Headmaster Dumbledore," Darren added, "don't tell my brother about this."
"When I came back just now, I went around them. They were still in the room discussing how to eavesdrop on us."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
Dumbledore almost burst into tears.
He nodded repeatedly and then looked at everyone else.
"Do not let any child know about this matter," he said solemnly.
Everyone nodded, but no one left.
They all wanted to see Darren safely out of danger.
Finally, Snape returned with the potion.
Holding the vial, he still didn't dare to touch Darren.
With trembling hands, he levitated the potion to Darren's lips.
"Drink it. It will regenerate everything," Snape said softly. "It will hurt a great deal. It will take several days. I suggest you sleep for a few days."
"No," Darren replied. "My brother will become suspicious. I'll just wrap myself in a big robe and say I caught a cold."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
Darren reached out with what looked like a cracked, broken hand and took the potion bottle. A flash of pain crossed his face.
The hearts of everyone present clenched.
If they could, they would have drunk it for him—but in Darren's current state, they didn't even dare approach him.
They were afraid a gust of wind might blow him apart.
Darren was almost amused by it.
The system's disguise was simply too convincing.
Other than his face, his entire body looked horrifying.
He drank the potion.
To be honest, Snape's potion didn't contain anything related to life or death—it was pure medicine.
Darren almost wanted to complain.
But seeing Snape's reddened eyes, he swallowed his words along with the potion.
For him, it didn't really feel like much.
But in front of everyone, the system-simulated wounds slowly began to squirm and heal.
A pained expression appeared on Darren's face before quickly settling back into calm.
He looked at Dumbledore and said, "Headmaster, please get me a large robe. I don't dare use magic. I'm afraid I'll fall apart if I move."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
"Don't talk nonsense," Dumbledore said hoarsely.
He waved his wand.
A soft black robe wrapped around Darren's entire body, leaving only his head exposed.
Darren smiled again and said, "Please get me a mirror too. I don't look very handsome right now."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]