Chapter 581 – Voldemort Is Affecting You!!
Darren's words made Black furious.
They almost wanted to teach Darren a lesson.
But when he saw Darren's pale cheeks and reddened eyes, he knew Darren was not well—at least not emotionally.
Darren had only wanted to use the quickest and most convenient way to help Fred and the others reach Mr. Weasley sooner.
"Anyway, you're staying here. No arguments."
Black glared at Darren as he spoke.
Darren buried his face in the palm of his hand. He looked as if he had fallen asleep, utterly silent.
But everyone knew he hadn't.
He was just overwhelmed, weighed down by the feeling that, in the end, he hadn't managed to help after all.
While Black and the others watched Darren anxiously, Mrs. Weasley's letter finally arrived.
It read:
Stay at Sirius's place. Your father is still alive.
"Still alive… that wording…"
Fred whispered under his breath.
His gaze instinctively shifted to Darren.
Darren remained in the same position, as though he had already known what the letter would say. He didn't lift his head.
Black shot him a worried look.
But he was afraid that if he said anything more to Darren right now, Darren might do something reckless again. So he forced himself to soften his tone and sat down beside the others.
It was a torturous night.
No one slept.
Except Darren.
Darren had fooled everyone into thinking he planned to use his injuries as an excuse to help them see Mr. Weasley.
In reality, he lay down, covered his face, and went straight to sleep. No one knew how exhausted he was after being dragged awake in the middle of the night again and again.
He had thought that if Mr. Weasley was injured, no one would bother calling him over. After all, what could a "little Holy Father" like him really do?
Better to sleep until dawn and then go back with Hermione.
Who would have guessed that Dumbledore would actually ask Snape to wake him up?
And now here he was, stuck.
He simply found an excuse, lay face down, and slept. Because everyone was worried about Darren's condition, no one disturbed him all night. They all believed he must be enduring immense pain.
After all, Darren had been "woken" by the Holy Father system from time to time in the middle of the night. Outwardly silent, inwardly busy with endless thoughts.
By the time Black and the others were tensely waiting for dawn, Darren had already woken up.
He was wondering when it would be appropriate to sit up when he heard the door open.
It was Mrs. Weasley.
Darren was the first to rush over.
After a whole night without sleep, he finally had an answer.
Mrs. Weasley's eyes were red with tears, but she was smiling as she said, "He's asleep now. He's out of danger… We can go and see him shortly.
He's taken leave, and Bill is with him at St. Mungo's."
Darren smiled.
He let out a soft laugh. "Thank goodness. Thank Merlin."
Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a tight hug.
Trembling, she said, "Darren, Sirius said you were out of your mind when you talked about using yourself to help them get to St. Mungo's… If you ever do something like that again, I'll confiscate your wand for good!"
Darren looked guilty.
"I'm sorry for worrying you. I just… I just couldn't help it."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
His words made Mrs. Weasley cry in earnest. She was deeply moved by this child.
Though his voice trembled, it was sincere.
Mrs. Weasley felt that even Fred and George weren't this considerate.
Of course.
After hugging Darren, Mrs. Weasley also hugged Harry. Harry looked awkward.
He gave Mrs. Weasley a stiff smile, then quickly pulled Darren into a quieter room.
After checking that no one was nearby, he asked cautiously, "Darren… can I tell you something?"
Darren nodded without hesitation.
Harry told him everything he had experienced in the dream, not leaving out a single detail.
Darren's expression turned grave.
"Darren… do you think I'm crazy too?"
"No," Darren said seriously. "I think it's Voldemort's influence. Not emotionally—on your memory. Or perhaps something deeper. Either way, the effect is very dangerous. This has to be reported to Dumbledore."
"I already told him," Harry said dejectedly.
"But he didn't tell me what to do."
"And now I don't even dare to sleep," Harry continued in fear. "I'm scared I'll suddenly turn into a snake and bite someone… I bit Mr. Weasley. I can even remember every sensation after biting him."
Darren glanced at the scar on Harry's forehead and said in a low voice, "I'll go speak to Headmaster Dumbledore again. But as long as I'm with you, you don't need to be afraid."
"If you really do turn into a snake, I'll catch you. Think about it—when have I ever failed to catch a snake?"
Harry laughed.
The fear in his heart finally eased.
After all, if Darren was there, how could he fail to catch the snake Harry might become?
"…Also, Darren," Harry hesitated, "before we left—before we were taken by the Portkey…"
"I saw Dumbledore's eyes. At that moment, I really wanted to bite him."
Darren already knew it was Voldemort's influence.
But the only true solution to that was Voldemort's death.
He forced himself to look shocked and said thoughtfully, "I suspect that what Voldemort left in your scar is interfering with you."
"Voldemort hates Dumbledore. That hatred might be leaking through and influencing you."
They fell silent.
The scar had been left by Voldemort. That much could never be changed.
It was a cruel reality: Voldemort had begun to affect Harry directly.
Harry accepted it.
But from then on, his nightmares returned.
Each time he woke from one, he pretended he had slept well and went to Darren and Ron as usual.
He didn't tell Darren.
Darren already carried too much. Harry suspected Darren himself probably suffered nightmares every night.
Telling him about something this serious had already been selfish enough. As for the smaller details, Harry refused to burden him further.
And Harry noticed the dark shadows beneath Darren's eyes.
Clearly, he wasn't the only one who hadn't been sleeping well.