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Darren's words left Fudge visibly shaken.
He kept shouting that he'd been frad—but everyone was already staring at him with suspicion.
Because Darren was right:
The only way Death Eaters could infiltrate Hogwarts unnoticed was with help from inside the Ministry.
And those sa Death Eaters had been spreading mory balls everywhere. Yet Fudge hadn't uncovered a single clue.
It was far too suspicious.
"Maybe," a tall, dark-skinned wizard said calmly, "we should detain the Minister for now?"
"Indeed. Kingsley, that's your responsibility," Dumbledore replied.
Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward at once, wand raised subtly toward Fudge.
Darren almost laughed—he had co here to be interrogated, and sohow the Minister was the one being taken away.
But he held himself back.
Because at that mont, Rita Skeeter leaned close and whispered sharply into his ear:
"Where did that silver trinket you wear co from?"
Silverware?
Darren rembered the item the system had given him—the so-called "legendary item" supposedly drawn from Dumbledore.
Was the original owner looking for it?
But if anyone could be the owner, wouldn't it be Dumbledore?
Still, Darren answered honestly, voice light:
"It appeared beside one day. I threw it away several tis, but it always ca back. Eventually… I gave up and kept it."
"How is that possible?" Rita muttered, baffled. She clearly didn't understand, but still pressed, "So where is it now? Can you give it to ?"
Darren hesitated. This felt like outright robbery.
But as always, the little holy father answered truthfully:
"It's at my waist. You can take it."
"Wonderful. Thank you!"
Rita bead triumphantly. She darted forward and brushed a hand across his waist—her movents quick and practiced.
A second later, she held the silver trinket in her palm.
"To repay your kindness," she said sweetly, raising her voice, "I'll give you one more question."
Then she called out loudly for all to hear:
"Darren Potter, do you have any evidence that proves Conte and the others should ended up in Azkaban?"
"Rita Skeeter, what are you doing?!"
"You're insane, Rita!"
"What good does it do you to send our children to prison?!"
"Shut up, Darren Potter!"
"Stun him! Quickly—knock him out before he speaks!"
The parents were shouting in panic.
But it was too late. Dumbledore had already blocked their spells.
And Darren began speaking.
"Each of them used the Avada Kedavra Curse—and the Imperius Curse as well," Darren said steadily. "A Priori Incantatem check on their wands will show it. Every single one of them. They belong in Azkaban."
The parents cried out:
"No! That's not evidence—the Death Eaters stole their wands!"
"Yes! You can't count that!"
"If that's evidence, then anyone whose wand was stolen would be guilty of whatever the thief did!"
"Our children are innocent!"
But their protests were cut short when the courtroom doors burst open.
"Minister—bad news!"
A bewildered wizard rushed in.
"A new part of the mory ball footage has been released! It shows the students using Unforgivable Curses on Darren Potter—Avada Kedavra, Imperius, all of it—oh… Minister?"
He froze.
Fudge was under control.
"Well then," Dumbledore sighed, "give Darren the antidote."
He sounded tired—bone tired—like this entire ordeal had been a grotesque performance.
Human nature at its ugliest.
Snape pressed his lips together, took a bottle from his pocket, and tipped the potion into Darren's mouth.
Darren coughed several tis before his hearing cleared.
The Veritaserum had finally been neutralized.
"Ah—what… what did I say? I—I didn't an to—"
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
Darren looked around in rising horror, unable to believe he had spoken so freely while under the truth serum.
"Child, you told the truth. And they deserve the consequences," Kingsley said firmly.
He placed a steadying hand on Darren's shoulder, his expression full of reassurance.
"Thank you, but… the Minister…"
"He'll face a full review," Kingsley said. "Next ti you see him, he may not be Minister anymore. Dumbledore—do you need for anything else?"
"No, Kingsley. Carry on," Dumbledore answered.
Kingsley gave him a small wink and disappeared from view.
"Oh, Darren—you fool…"
Harry rushed over, voice thick with guilt.
"All of this… it all happened because of ."
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
"Don't apologize," Harry said quickly, wiping at his eyes. "You're always so kind… It's everyone else who's at fault!"
He deeply regretted ever doubting Darren. What mistake could his brother possibly make?
It was others who hurt him.
"Well," Dumbledore said gently, "children rejoice, villains are punished—that seems to be the way of things today."
He guided them toward the exit.
But they were still too late.
A swarm of reporters rushed in from outside.
"Potter! We saw in the mory ball that countless students cast the Cruciatus and Killing Curse at you—do you intend for them to go to Azkaban?"
"Potter, those students are still children—can you really bear ruining their futures?"
"Potter, we heard those classmates once helped you—how could you accuse people you studied with for a year?"
"Potter, is the mory ball genuine?"
"Do you realize their families are devastated? Can you bear the thought of children dying in prison because of this?"
"Potter! Potter!"
Reporters crowded him from all sides, quills stabbing dangerously close to his face.
One even activated the mory ball right in front of him.
Darren watched himself stumbling, fleeing—
not from Death Eaters,
but from students.
Pitiful. Alone.
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