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Darren didn't know exactly what Harry was thinking, but he had a good guess at what he was going to say next.

He stood in front of Harry, eyes lowered, and said quietly, "Brother… you can do whatever you want, and whoever dies at your hands is the sa… anyway, it's all the sa…"

His last words were faint but firm, carried clearly to everyone present.

[Ding, congratulations to the host for obtaining Harry's Patron Saint.]

Harry's Patron Saint: Harry's Patron can be summoned when the host needs it. Note: this can only be used after Harry has mastered the Patron Charm. Its role is primarily as a "cara," recording or observing.

Darren blinked. What kind of reward was this? Could it even be used as a reward? He rolled his eyes. If he wasn't acting seriously, he would have complained twice.

Harry spoke softly but firmly:

"Darren… if you want to cry, then cry. Don't force a smile like that. We're twins… how could I not know you're sad? I can feel it. Mada Pomfrey even helped sense your emotions carefully so I could understand how you feel."

Darren froze. How was this possible? If Harry had this ability, could he even perceive Darren's current frustration and self-recrimination?

But Harry continued.

"So I felt that you… wanted soone to kill you, right? How could you think that? Those people may have hurt you, forced you into so many things, but how could you harm yourself because of them? I'm your brother—I won't let you die. You're not allowed to. Do you hear ?"

Harry's tone was angry, but it carried concern. He had been worried when Mr. Weasley reported that Darren was in a fragile state. He had hoped Darren would at least have the will to survive.

But upon learning what had happened at the trial, Harry feared Darren might be willing to sacrifice himself completely.

Mr. Weasley had even pessimistically suggested that if Darren continued in such a state at the next trial, he might require the Truth Agent—a tool that could be physically harmful and expose private information in a public trial.

And with reporters like Rita Skeeter, anything could happen. She would likely press infuriating questions to embarrass or challenge Darren.

If Darren responded poorly, the wizarding world could easily turn against him.

Yet Darren, unable to cope otherwise, would have had to rely on the Truth Agent if he accepted all the accusations to preserve his reputation. Harry had considered using the Shadow Ball as evidence, but Mr. Weasley had warned him that it could be faked. Shadow Balls weren't admissible in trial anyway. Showing Darren those scenes again would be cruel—even adults shied away from watching them a second ti.

Harry, seeing Darren's suffering in those images, felt guilty. It wasn't his fault, but he felt responsible nonetheless. If Darren weren't his brother, could he have borne such pain?

Harry's eyes reddened. He looked at Darren, dazed and exhausted, and silently vowed:

You are not allowed to bear those accusations alone anymore. If you ever do sothing so stupid again, I… I'll hurt myself!

He raised his wand and cast a self-inflicted injury spell. Blood flowed freely from his arm.

"Brother!" Darren cried. "Go to the school infirmary! I was wrong, don't hurt yourself! Healing spell… quick! I won't do that again!"

[Ding, Father 100]

[Ding, Father 100]

[Ding, Father 100]

[Ding…]

Seeing Darren's earnest concern, Harry's angry expression softened into relief.

"That's right!" he said with satisfaction.

Harry picked up a potion bottle and poured it on his wound. "No need for a curing spell. I just took this from Mada Pomfrey's infirmary. The ingredients are very rare, but it should work!"

"Brother… how can you hurt yourself like this? Didn't you promise you wouldn't be reckless?"

[Ding, Father 90]

[Ding, Father 80]

[Ding, Father 80]

[Ding…]

This ti, the Father values weren't full—Harry wasn't fully moved. Darren sighed; so people were harder to influence than others.

Hermione intervened, exasperated:

"You also call Harry reckless, but you've been reckless too! Flint told you to go to the Black Lake. You went! Weren't you worried he'd kill you? You should have told us, and we could have discussed it together!"

"I'm sorry for worrying you…" Darren said, guilt heavy in his expression.

[Ding, Father 100]

[Ding, Father 100]

[Ding, Father 100]

[Ding…]

"Oh, Darren, I'm not blaming you. You're just so kind that you always think of others before yourself. Anyway, let's forget that for now. I brought you so food—you haven't eaten since you returned, right?"

Hermione handed him two beef patties and a few grilled sausages she had brought along.

"Oh, and this!" she added, producing a letter. Darren saw the sender: Cornell Fudge.

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