Chapter 611: Counterattack!!
Harry's face was full of doubt.
But he couldn't ask anything yet.
He quietly slipped away, waiting until Snape entered his office and Darren disappeared from the corridor before following him inside.
"Why are you so late?" Snape sneered.
"Didn't I tell you when to come? Or does the noble Harry Potter now look down on his Potions professor?"
Harry's teeth itched with anger.
But he did not want Snape to know that he had just overheard the conversation.
He replied stiffly, "I ran into Professor Flitwick on the way. He asked me about the Cheering Charm… I think it might be on the exam."
"Enough." Snape cut him off coldly.
"I have no interest in what you were doing before. Now begin—and let us hope, Potter, that your progress this week is finally satisfactory."
He spoke with open mockery.
A trace of anticipation flashed through Snape's eyes.
This time, he would be able to show Potter—clearly and completely—the memory of his conflict with Darren.
When that happened…
"Professor—ah? Potter is here too?"
Malfoy's voice suddenly sounded.
Snape immediately lowered his wand and turned around. Malfoy wore an apologetic expression.
"Professor, sorry. I may have interrupted—"
"It's nothing," Snape said coolly.
"Just some remedial instruction for Potter. What is it?"
"Remedial Potions," Malfoy said, barely holding back laughter.
Harry's face flushed crimson. He had never felt so humiliated.
He desperately wanted to tell Malfoy what he was actually doing here—but under Snape's gaze, he swallowed his anger.
"Draco?" Snape suddenly said.
Malfoy seemed to remember his purpose and quickly replied,
"Professor, Monty has been found. He's stuck in the fifth-floor toilet. Could you go take a look?"
Snape was silent for a moment. A flicker of regret passed through his eyes—but there was no helping it.
He looked back at Harry.
"Potter. Tomorrow night. We continue."
With that, he strode out of the office. Malfoy hurried after him.
As he left, Malfoy turned back and grinned at Harry.
"Remedial Potions."
Harry felt utterly insulted.
He shoved his wand back into his robes in irritation and prepared to leave.
At least, he told himself, Malfoy's interruption had bought him one more night.
But the anger in his chest only grew stronger.
As he turned to go, his eyes fell on the Pensieve.
Silvery memories drifted slowly within it.
Harry thought of the poison he had seen in Snape's memories.
Snape's threats toward Darren.
The conflict between them.
Before he realized it, he had walked to the Pensieve.
Snape had gone to deal with a student. He would be gone for a while.
Harry plunged straight in.
—
He saw Sirius Black and the others.
It was clearly during their O.W.L. examinations.
After the exam, they were sitting on the grass. Harry had always imagined his father as a hero.
But what he saw shattered that image.
James Potter was exactly what Snape had called him—arrogant, reckless, and insufferable.
He deliberately showed off the Golden Snitch in front of Peter Pettigrew, ignoring Pettigrew's envious gaze, refusing to let him touch it even once.
He deliberately ruffled his hair again and again, acting like a madman.
As for Snape—
James and Sirius were the ones who provoked him first.
They mocked him together, hexed him, stuffed his mouth with soap bubbles, and even hung him upside down.
The reason was absurdly simple: to attract Lily's attention.
Harry's mother was just as upright as Darren.
She was beautiful.
And she clearly despised James's behavior, forcing him to put Snape down.
But after Lily turned away in anger, James hoisted Snape upside down again.
He even tried to strip Snape's trousers.
What happened next, Harry didn't see.
Because at that moment, Snape caught him.
Snape stared at him with naked hatred.
"You're just like your father," Snape snarled.
"Reckless. Arrogant. A lunatic. Now you've seen him—are you satisfied?"
Harry was terrified.
Horror and guilt twisted together in his chest.
Snape seized him by the throat, squeezing until Harry could barely breathe.
Harry struggled desperately.
Then, in panic, he shouted,
"Legilimens!"
—
Snape collapsed.
—
Snape added strangely colored herbs into a potion.
Snape fed those potions to Darren—again and again—always when Darren was unconscious.
In the office, Snape kept telling Darren that Dumbledore was mad, that everything was madness, that Darren should listen only to him.
Another bottle of potion was poured down Darren's throat.
Darren grew weaker and weaker.
Snape shouted at him, ordering him to obey the Dark Lord.
Darren vomited blood in Snape's office and staggered toward the door.
Snape and Darren fought each other.
Snape cornered Darren, threatening him—drink the potions, or Harry would suffer.
Snape demanded to know whether Darren was making an antidote.
Snape told Darren that as long as Harry remained in his hands, Darren had no choice but to stay silent.
Snape stood in Dumbledore's office, claiming he was trying to determine Darren's true thoughts.
After all, Darren's origins were unknown.
Snape told Darren that the poison had seeped into his bones, causing constant pain—pain so unbearable that one might eventually turn to the Dark Lord.
Harry saw Snape enter Darren's dormitory.
He picked up a knife and cut into Darren's skin.
While Darren lay unconscious, Snape struggled to raise his wand—
—
"Get out! Get out of my mind!"
Snape roared.
Harry felt as if his skull were splitting open.
He saw Snape raise his wand and leapt aside in panic.
A red spell blasted the spot where he had just stood.
The door was still open.
Harry fled.
Snape chased after him, firing spell after spell.
Harry felt as if his life were hanging by a thread.
Then he saw Darren.
Darren did not seem surprised at all.
He raised his wand, blocking Snape's attack meant for Harry.
Then he cast Devil's Snare.
The thick vines shot out, instantly binding Snape.
What happened afterward, Harry didn't know.
He and Darren escaped from the dungeons together.