Chapter 629 – Don't You Still Understand?!
"It's obvious that Kreacher was lying. You're not his master… Over the past few months, Kreacher has been serving two masters."
On Christmas Eve, Kreacher grabbed Sirius and told him to "get out."
Then he went to Narcissa—Sirius's cousin, Malfoy's wife, Bellatrix's sister.
She was the only member of the Black family Kreacher truly felt honored and proud to serve.
"How do you know?"
Harry looked at Dumbledore.
"Sirius told me. And when Severus saw the note Darren left behind, he immediately found a way to contact Sirius.
"There are more effective methods of communication within the Order of the Phoenix… I didn't tell Darren about this. That was also my fault.
"After Severus contacted Sirius, he went looking for you and discovered that you had taken Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest.
"He followed you there and saw the centaurs.
"He understood what had happened. He was worried that you really had gone to the Ministry of Magic, so he contacted the Order of the Phoenix headquarters.
"You see—if Darren had waited, nothing would have happened."
"Enough! I don't want to hear you accusing him of mistakes!"
Harry suddenly roared.
Dumbledore watched him lose control but didn't stop him.
"I know you're angry at your own recklessness," Dumbledore said softly,
"angry that you urged him to rescue Sirius."
Harry froze.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
After watching him for a moment, Dumbledore continued,
"After Severus informed the Order headquarters, Sirius confronted Kreacher.
"When Kreacher said you had gone to the Ministry, he laughed hysterically."
"Laughed?"
Harry asked darkly.
"Yes. Kreacher told Malfoy that in this world, the person you cared about most was Sirius—except for Darren.
"You regarded Sirius as a father. At times, he was even more important to you than Darren.
"They exploited this and lured you to the Ministry of Magic.
"They never intended to kill any of you at first. Their goal was only to make you retrieve the crystal ball—the prophecy."
"It's broken," Harry sneered.
"I smashed it on the steps with my own hands."
"Yes. I saw it with my own eyes," Dumbledore said calmly.
"I didn't stop you. I thought… perhaps that would make you feel better."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that prophecies are spoken by people. And when that prophecy was made, I witnessed it myself.
"Sixteen years ago, I interviewed a Divination professor. Someone was listening nearby.
"He only heard the first half—and that half was what he reported to Voldemort."
Dumbledore stirred the Pensieve.
A human face emerged—Professor Trelawney.
She spoke in the same eerie tone Harry remembered:
"Born as the seventh month dies…
Born to parents who have thrice defied the Dark Lord…
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…
Neither can live while the other survives…"
Dumbledore waved his wand, and the memory vanished.
"There were three boys who fit the prophecy," he said quietly.
"You, Darren, and Neville.
"But Voldemort chose you, Harry."
"But Darren should be stronger…"
"Yes. But Voldemort chose you. From the moment he did, the prophecy became bound to you.
"He wanted the full prophecy. You destroyed it—but he will find other ways to learn it. It won't take long."
"So… does that mean one must kill the other? Only one survives?
Does Darren know?"
"He does," Dumbledore said.
"He figured it out himself. And when he did, he was very calm.
"He said he would help you defeat Voldemort, no matter what."
Harry's throat tightened again.
If only he had calmed down tonight.
If only he had listened to Darren's instincts.
If only he hadn't lost his temper with him.
If only he hadn't turned away and forced Darren to decide alone…
Then maybe they would be eating breakfast together now.
But Darren was gone.
None of it made sense.
And yet, Harry still couldn't accept it. He still wanted to go to the veil, to pull it open and drag Darren back.
Darren would probably smile awkwardly, as if embarrassed by the trouble he'd caused.
"Harry," Dumbledore said softly,
"I still owe you an explanation.
"That is why I didn't appoint you as a prefect. I felt your burden was already too heavy. I didn't want to add more."
"Darren didn't become a prefect either,"
Harry said hollowly.
"Don't you understand yet?" Dumbledore replied gently.
"Because you weren't chosen, he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.
"So he refused the position as well."
Harry looked at the old man before him.
Dumbledore seemed suddenly much older.
Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, soaking into his silver beard as dawn slowly broke.
---
Darren was not dead.
After throwing Harry and the others clear, he had planned to tilt sideways—half to let Harry think he'd nearly fallen in, half to earn a bit of Holy Father value.
Then the system prompt sounded.
[Ding! Space–time corridor detected. Do you wish to merge it with the Chamber of Slytherin?
After fusion, you will obtain a portable space–time corridor and may choose an entry time freely.]
Because of that sudden prompt, Darren froze for a moment—
And then he actually fell.
As he dropped, he saw a structure resembling a space–time corridor, laid out almost like a mirrored version of Gryffindor.
[Ding! Do you wish to spend 10,000 Holy Father points to choose a door to open, or enter a random door for free?]
"…Seriously?"
[Do you wish to enter?]
[Ding! It is recommended that the host enter. During fusion, the host must remain within the corridor until completion.
Entering a corridor can accelerate the fusion process.]
"…Fine. Enter for free."
Darren chose decisively.
After all, free was the most expensive option.
He pushed open a random door. It opened easily.
Huh?
Judging by the sky, it was already past midnight.
"Hogwarts lawn?"
Darren looked around. Fierce battles were raging all over the castle. Curious, he walked forward.
He passed Hagrid's battlefield, then Arthur Weasley fighting nearby, and soon spotted Fred and the others.
Percy was hurling a sea urchin at a man's head.
"Hello, Minister!" Percy shouted.
"I told you I was resigning, didn't I?"
Fred stared at him in disbelief.
"Percy, are you joking? Since when do you joke—"
Boom!
An explosion erupted. Someone had cast a Blasting Curse.
Darren immediately raised his wand.
A barrier sprang up, blocking the blast above Fred, Percy—and Harry and Hermione behind them.
The explosions crackled against the shield.
Darren laughed.
He looked at Harry and said cheerfully,
"Brother, look at this Blasting Curse. When I fought Voldemort during the summer after fifth year, his was way stronger.
"But this one's still pretty decent."