Chapter 598: Wishful Thinking!!
While Harry was struggling with Occlumency all day long, Darren, Snape, and Dumbledore were anything but idle.
After repeated discussions, they finally finished rehearsing.
At first, Dumbledore had suggested performing the entire scene in front of Harry. That way, the effect would be clearer and more convincing.
But Darren's acting skills made both of them abandon that idea very quickly.
In the end, they decided on a different approach.
Snape and Darren would stage a violent confrontation inside Snape's office. Harry would later catch fragments of it through Snape's memories, which would be enough to convince him.
After that, as long as Darren and Snape avoided being alone in front of others, Voldemort's existence could be completely concealed.
Sunday night.
Darren said goodbye to Harry and Hermione and dragged himself toward Snape's office.
Dumbledore was beside him, using a Disillusionment Charm, ready to prompt him at any moment about what to do next.
They had discovered that even if Darren memorized the entire process beforehand, he would still forget parts of it once he became nervous.
The easiest solution was for Dumbledore to stay invisible at his side and guide him in real time.
Under Dumbledore's quiet prompts, Darren forced himself to put on an irritated, unhappy expression and pushed open the door to Snape's office.
The moment he stepped inside, a spell shot straight at him.
Darren reacted instinctively and dodged.
He stared at Snape in shock.
This part had never been mentioned during rehearsal.
Snape, however, had no intention of explaining. He merely looked at Darren coldly and said,
"I quite agree with Umbridge's methods. Given your open defiance of me last time, perhaps I should punish you as well."
"Write it. Write that Harry Potter is a stupid, arrogant fool."
Darren froze.
At once, Dumbledore's voice sounded in his ear.
"Glare at him angrily. Say: You're bullying my brother."
Darren stiffened, then forced himself to stand up straight, his voice shaking with anger.
"You're bullying my brother!"
"He hasn't mastered Occlumency yet, but instead of getting better, he's only suffering more. Tell me—did you teach him properly at all?!"
Snape sneered.
"Whether I teach him well or not has nothing to do with your opinions. Last time, I already told you—there is only one way to turn to the Dark Lord—"
He was improvising again.
Dumbledore immediately prompted, "Angry expression. Say: You're delusional…"
Darren's eyes widened as he shouted,
"You're delusional! I will never turn to Voldemort—never! You could kill me, and I still wouldn't!"
"I'll let Headmaster Dumbledore see every memory of what you've done here. I won't let you keep deceiving him!"
"Potter," Snape said softly, dangerously, "I hope you're being honest. My potions are not gentle. You've been drinking them for years."
"To keep you from noticing, I even poured them straight into your mouth while you were unconscious."
"All of that accumulation—you should be feeling it now, shouldn't you? Pain worse than the Cruciatus Curse."
"Won't you turn to the Dark Lord?"
That wasn't in the rehearsal either.
Darren stared at Snape, stunned.
He had always thought Snape was just cold and sharp-tongued, venting his dislike for Harry whenever possible.
He hadn't expected Snape's acting to be this convincing—or this terrifying.
Seeing Darren hesitate, Dumbledore prompted again.
"Collapse onto the table. Tremble. After five minutes, whisper: I will never… even if I die here today…"
Darren followed the instruction.
He collapsed onto the desk, his body shaking violently.
Something was suddenly forced into his mouth by Dumbledore.
A second later, blood burst from his lips.
It soaked into his robes and spilled across the desk, horrifyingly real.
Snape stood to one side, watching him closely.
Remembering that the "blood" came from a modified invention inspired by the Weasley twins, Snape steadied himself and continued coldly.
"It hurts now, doesn't it? I've planned for years to get you into my hands."
"Potter, I advise you to join the Dark Lord. Neither he nor I truly want you dead."
"What we want is for you to turn on Harry Potter—let the Dark Lord kill him—and then you'll be safe…"
Dumbledore nudged Darren again.
It was time.
Darren tried to push himself up, but the fake blood spray had left him weak, as if he'd been hit by an imperfect curse.
With effort, he hauled himself upright using the chair, drenched in cold sweat.
"I will never…" he said hoarsely.
"Even if it means death… I will never do anything for Voldemort."
"Hmph," Snape sneered. "Sooner or later, you'll agree. There's still half a semester left."
"I have plenty of time to torture you."
Dumbledore's voice whispered urgently,
"Pull out your wand and aim at Severus. Don't worry—he'll dodge."
Darren raised his wand with trembling effort and pointed it at Snape.
"Reducto!"
Snape dodged instantly.
The table behind him exploded into fragments.
"Keep going," Dumbledore urged. "Stunning Spells, Blasting Curses—don't worry, Severus took a potion!"
Relieved, Darren unleashed spell after spell.
Snape's office was nearly reduced to ruins.
Finally—
Bang!
The office door was blown open.
Students had already gathered outside, drawn by the noise.
Dumbledore whispered urgently into Darren's ear, "Take it!"
Darren opened his mouth.
A small pill slipped in.
Drowsiness flooded his body almost instantly.
He let himself collapse to the ground.
The rest would be handled by Snape.
Just before losing consciousness, he heard Kassandra's voice, sharp with panic.
"What did you do?!" she shouted at Snape. "Are you trying to kill him?!"
In the final second before darkness claimed him, Darren felt himself being lifted—into Kassandra's arms.
Someone else stepped between him and Snape, blocking the way.
As his awareness faded, one thought drifted through his mind.
Snape's reputation in Slytherin was probably about to become even more terrifying than before.