.
---
"My dear Mr Weasley… where exactly were you three planning to go?"
Snape's cold, mocking voice echoed, sharp as a knife.
"Shall I inform your poor Potions professor where to collect your corpses?"
Harry and Ron inhaled sharply.
They were absolutely dood.
And Darren…
He had used Fiendfyre, one of the most dangerous forms of cursed fire in existence.
Hermione had once warned them that the Ministry strictly prohibited it.
Would Darren be expelled? Arrested?
"I—w-we—we ca to find Hagrid!" Ron stamred.
He elbowed Harry, urging him to speak.
"Yes—Professor—Hagrid is our friend—" Harry began nervously.
"We heard he was taken by the Ministry, so we thought—"
But he froze when he caught Snape's look.
It felt like Snape could see straight through him.
He didn't get to finish.
Darren suddenly spoke, dazed and trembling:
"Professor… I used Fiendfyre… Does that make a bad person? Am I going to Azkaban?"
---
[Ding, mission complete. Reward received: Enhanced Fire-Spell Variant]
Enhanced Fiery Spell:
A modified fire spell that no longer requires destructive intent and can be powered by extre love or protective instinct.
Controlled in radius; cannot spiral into Fiendfyre.
---
"You—used Fiendfyre?"
Professor McGonagall clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.
That spell was classified alongside Unforgivable Curses—illegal, uncontrollable, catastrophic.
Darren's face grew even paler.
Harry quickly stepped forward.
"Professor—Darren saved us! The spiders were going to eat us!"
"Yes!" Ron added.
"They were eight-eyed giant spiders. They said if we asked about the Chamber of Secrets again, they'd kill us. They wrapped us in webs—before Darren rescued us!"
McGonagall still looked grave.
Her concern wasn't about punishnt.
It was about Darren.
Could a second-year cast Fiendfyre without any emotional backlash?
The spell normally tore at the caster's sanity.
"Darren," she asked gently, "do you feel all right?"
Darren shook his head, eyes filled with anguish.
"I feel… fine, Professor. That's what scares . I used sothing dark… sothing forbidden… and I felt nothing. Doesn't that an I'm twisted?"
He squeezed his wand, shaking.
"Where will you send ? Azkaban? I think I'm—born wrong…"
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
Half the professors nearly choked.
Born wrong?
This boy cried about stepping on ants.
But their confusion grew deeper.
How did he cast Fiendfyre without harm?
McGonagall gently picked up Darren's discarded wand.
"I'll use Prior Incantato," she said softly.
A golden echo of the spell erged—
But instead of Fiendfyre's demonic serpents and beasts, the projected fla was warm, bright, radiant… almost protective.
Professor Flitwick's jaw fell open.
"This is Fiendfyre… but transford. Contained. Altered."
He looked utterly bewildered.
"How could such a variation even exist?"
Darren lowered his head, face twisted with guilt.
The system had forged the spell's appearance, but outwardly he acted like he was breaking.
Harry and Ron hovered beside him, frantic.
"Professor—please—he saved us!"
"He didn't have a choice!"
But Darren didn't hear them.
"I should be punished… soone like shouldn't exist… A person who casts spells like that and feels nothing— I must be rotten inside…"
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
[Ding, Father 100]
His voice cracked.
His eyes reddened.
He even pushed Harry's hand away, terrified of hurting them.
Flitwick spoke quickly.
"No, no, Darren—listen! Many Aurors have cast Unforgivable Curses without emotional harm. Strength of heart does not make you evil. And you didn't break any law—this was self-defense!"
But Darren looked trapped inside his own spiraling guilt.
Snape stepped in, expression tight.
"Darren. Enough."
He drew his wand and cast a diagnostic spell.
The wand glowed a worrying shade.
Snape's frown deepened.
"I'm taking him to the infirmary. The rest of you—investigate the fire damage and deal with the aftermath."
He glanced sharply at Harry and Ron.
"And as for you two—Potter cubs truly do attract disaster."
He grabbed Darren firmly by the shoulders and guided him away.
---
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