"Darren hasn't woken up yet. He's badly injured.
We blocked the news of his return because we were afraid the Dark Lord might break into St. Mungo's and try to kill him.
If that happened, Darren would be in great danger, and it would also put others at risk.
Although St. Mungo's has many Aurors guarding it, we don't want a war to break out there.
So for now, you can't visit him. When he wakes up and regains his strength, you'll be able to see him then."
Dumbledore spoke solemnly.
Harry spun around irritably.
"Is it really not okay for to even take a look?
I'm still worried that Darren is actually dead, and that this news is just sothing you're using to deceive .
Otherwise, why would you give all the keys to Darren's Gringotts vault?"
"There's no need for us to lie to you," Dumbledore replied calmly.
"You've already waited more than a month—what's a little longer?
As for Darren's Gringotts key, school is about to start.
Darren will need supplies. If he hasn't woken up by then, you can buy them for him.
You're his brother. Of course you know what he needs."
Dumbledore's explanation was reasonable.
Yet Harry still felt that sothing about it was deliberate—but he had no proof.
In the end, he agreed.
As Dumbledore said, he had already waited more than a month. Waiting a little longer wouldn't kill him.
Besides, if Darren woke up tomorrow, he could see him then.
"Good," Dumbledore said.
"I see Molly's kitchen light is still on. Let's go in."
They entered through the back door.
Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out imdiately.
"Who is it?"
"It's —Dumbledore. And Harry Potter," Dumbledore replied cheerfully.
The door opened at once.
Mrs. Weasley rushed out.
"Oh my goodness, Albus, Harry! Didn't you say you wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning?"
"We were fortunate," Dumbledore said.
"Slughorn was easier to persuade than expected… Oh—Nymphadora, you're here too."
Only then did Harry notice Tonks.
She looked a little haggard, but overall relieved and happy.
She glanced at Dumbledore with so restraint, then hurried over to Harry and whispered,
"Harry, do you know Darren is awake? When can we see him?"
Harry glanced at Dumbledore.
Seeing that he didn't stop him, Harry shook his head.
"I don't know. Dumbledore said Darren hasn't woken up yet and won't let see him."
There was resentnt in his voice.
Mrs. Weasley looked at him disapprovingly.
"At a ti like this, you must be careful.
The one the Dark Lord most wants to kill is you, then Dumbledore—and then Darren.
If the Dark Lord knew Darren was lying in St. Mungo's right now, he could kill him easily, even with a Muggle knife.
Severus said that the Dark Lord has expressed interest in recruiting Darren, but that could just be a trick to lower our guard."
That was exactly Severus's concern.
So he delayed informing the Dark Lord for as long as possible.
Even if the Dark Lord learned Darren had returned, Severus would try to make him believe Darren was being treated at Hogwarts, not St. Mungo's.
But doing so put Severus at great risk.
If the Dark Lord discovered the truth, Severus would be punished.
"So Harry," Dumbledore said gravely,
"don't act recklessly."
Harry could only nod.
Tonks stuck out her tongue awkwardly.
"I'll be leaving then," she said quickly.
"It's too late—I won't disturb you."
"Stay a bit longer—"
"No, no, I shouldn't. You know why…"
Tonks waved her hand, nodded to Dumbledore, and disappeared through the door.
"That child… honestly," Mrs. Weasley muttered.
Still, she pulled Harry and Dumbledore inside.
"What would you like to drink? Lemon juice? Tea? Wine?"
"No, Molly," Dumbledore said.
"I won't stay. I still have things to attend to.
And Harry—rember what I told you. I'll see you at Hogwarts."
With that, Dumbledore left.
Mrs. Weasley sighed helplessly and turned to Harry.
"Oh my goodness, Harry, you've grown taller this sumr.
You look just like Ron—almost as if soone cast an Engorgent Charm on you.
I wonder if Darren has grown taller too… His situation is truly worrying.
Honestly, they shouldn't have put him in St. Mungo's. The school infirmary would've been better.
I trust Poppy completely. She'd never let Darren sleep for so long without waking."
Mrs. Weasley complained.
Harry smiled awkwardly.
He suspected Darren's prolonged sleep wasn't St. Mungo's fault at all.
Darren had once joked that Snape might have slipped so new version of the Draught of Living Death into his potion—one sip, and he'd sleep for ages.
That was entirely possible.
Snape always loved stuffing Darren with potions.
Harry had seen it many tis—through Snape's mories—potions being poured down Darren's throat.
Back then, Harry had thought Snape was poisoning him.
Now he realized Darren had been acting for an entire year, and he hadn't noticed at all.
Looking back, the signs had been obvious.
Harry felt guilty.
It proved that last year, he hadn't paid enough attention to Darren.
"By the way, Harry, are you hungry?" Mrs. Weasley asked suddenly.
Harry realized he was starving.
For over a month, he had barely eaten.
He was so thin that Aunt Petunia had called him a telephone pole.
"Sit down, dear," Mrs. Weasley said gently.
"I'll get you sothing to eat."
Harry sat at the kitchen table.
He took out Lezi and tried feeding it cat food again—but Lezi didn't respond.
"Oh my goodness," Mrs. Weasley exclaid.
"Darren's kitten has beco like this?"
Harry explained quickly,
"It hasn't seen Darren for a long ti. It doesn't eat, drink, or even sleep… it's like…"
His voice choked.
He wanted to say—just like .
As if life had lost its aning.
As if the most important person was gone.
If he didn't clearly know that his life had been bought with Darren's sacrifice, he suspected he wouldn't even be holding up as well as Lezi's motionless body.
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