Chapter 610: Poisoning?!
This matter was ultimately suppressed by Harry.
He could not tell anyone else about it. But there was no denying that his heart was filled with anger.
Of course, what happened in the afternoon eased that anger slightly.
It was Umbridge's first afternoon as Headmistress, and she "inspected" the entire Hogwarts Castle.
The reason was simple: the fireworks had spread to every classroom.
While Harry and the others were in Transfiguration class, a flaming flying saucer suddenly burst into the room.
No one expected that Professor McGonagall would not be able to deal with it by simply waving her wand.
Instead, she showed a troubled expression and turned to a student.
"Oh, Miss Brown, could I trouble you to fetch our new Headmistress? I'm afraid I cannot handle such a terrifying flying saucer."
Not only Professor McGonagall—almost all the professors treated the fireworks as if they were some kind of horrifying magical creature.
It was as though no one in the entire school, except Umbridge herself, had the authority to deal with them.
When Harry and the others left class, they passed Professor Flitwick's classroom.
Flitwick was smiling as he escorted Umbridge out, saying cheerfully,
"Thank you so much, Headmistress Dolores. I could handle this artillery myself, of course—but I wasn't sure whether I had the right to do so."
Harry saw Umbridge stumbling out of the Charms classroom.
Her face was black with rage, her clothes were disheveled, her steps unsteady, and sweat soaked her forehead.
She looked as though she had aged ten years in a single afternoon.
That night, Fred and George were treated as heroes.
Harry praised them without restraint. He even said he wanted to buy more fireworks from them, planning to throw them into the castle every single day.
As long as Umbridge suffered, he would be satisfied.
Even emptying his vault was acceptable.
Fred and George, however, told him that their stock had already been used up.
"There are only two of us," Fred said. "Our production speed isn't that fast."
"But you can place an order," George added brightly.
"Five Galleons for the standard fireworks package.
Twenty-five Galleons for the deluxe package.
And one hundred Galleons for the super package."
"I want the most expensive one," Harry said grimly.
"If you help me deploy it, I'll pay extra."
He slammed two hundred Galleons onto the table.
Fred and George immediately put Harry's name at the top of their order list.
Hermione's expression darkened slightly when she saw this. She was about to ask something, but Harry interrupted her sharply.
"Don't ask me. I don't want to say anything. I just want her to live the most miserable life possible."
"…Does this have something to do with Darren?" Hermione suddenly asked.
Harry fell silent.
Then, to his surprise, Hermione calmly placed an order for a deluxe package as well.
"You don't even know what happened," Harry said, stunned.
"You don't want to tell me," Hermione replied,
"but if it involves Darren, then it must be serious.
She dared to bully Darren—I suddenly feel very rebellious."
Hermione clenched her fist in encouragement.
Harry almost told her the truth.
If she knew what had really happened to Darren, she wouldn't just feel rebellious—she might want to kill someone.
But he held back.
Once spoken, rumors would spread. And Darren already had a hard enough time in Slytherin.
If it were rumored that he had some sort of scandal with Umbridge…
Harry didn't dare think further.
For the first time, he felt a twisted sense of relief that Umbridge had erased Darren's memory each time.
The moment that thought surfaced, Harry forcibly rejected it.
Umbridge was a pervert.
A pervert who must be driven out of Hogwarts.
Late that night, Harry finally calmed down—only to suddenly remember something terrifying.
Tomorrow, he still had another Occlumency lesson.
And not only had he failed to practice it, he had also gained an entire memory he absolutely did not want Snape to see.
Before falling asleep, Harry desperately tried to empty his mind.
It was useless.
Soon, the familiar sensation of sinking returned.
He was in the corridor again.
The Department of Mysteries.
That mysterious door.
He pushed it open.
He passed through a room full of strange machinery, then entered a hall filled with crystal balls.
His hand stretched out.
He longed—desperately—to grasp one of them.
It was what he dreamed of—
Bang!
"Look! Another artillery explosion! They still haven't dealt with it!"
Seamus's voice rang out.
He was standing by the window, pointing outside.
Everyone in the dormitory woke up and rushed over.
Sure enough, fireworks, flying saucers, and flaming devices were still rampaging through the night sky.
Then came Umbridge's shrill scream.
Harry laughed.
The lingering gloom in his chest finally turned into joy.
As long as Umbridge suffered, he was happy.
He almost wanted to hear what she had said when she first declared herself Headmistress.
What a wonderful day.
Because he was in such a good mood, Harry still did not practice Occlumency.
The next day, during History of Magic, panic finally set in.
If Snape saw his lack of progress, Harry didn't even want to imagine what vicious remarks he would make.
Especially since Darren had attacked Snape before—Snape's attitude toward them had grown even worse.
Harry didn't blame Darren.
In his eyes, Snape had always been a sinister figure.
And that memory Harry had seen—the one where Snape put something into a potion…
Even though Harry couldn't be certain it was poison, his suspicion only grew stronger.
Anger and hatred twisted together.
At this point, Harry's feelings toward Snape were nearly as extreme as his feelings toward Umbridge.
With these thoughts in mind, Harry slowly walked toward Snape's office after class.
Just before entering, he caught sight of Darren speaking with Snape in a corner of the corridor.
Darren had his back to him.
But from Snape's expression alone, it was clear the conversation was unpleasant.
Harry hurried over, intending to step in—
Just in time to hear Snape say coldly,
"I think you can feel it as well. The situation is getting worse.
You still haven't found the antidote… and you're still not prepared to compromise?"
Antidote?
Harry's heart skipped a beat.
His mind immediately flashed to the memory of Snape putting something into a potion.
Poison?
Was it really poison?
Who was it meant for?
What did Snape want Darren to compromise on?
Harry instinctively held his breath and listened.
But Snape seemed to sense someone nearby. He shifted his position slightly, then looked at Darren and said impatiently,
"Go back. I still have to teach Harry Potter Occlumency."