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Chapter Seventy-Two: Stealing Potions?!!
"Darren, tell the truth—what happens if you don't go back to Slytherin?"
Harry's voice was tight with anger.
That Slytherin prefect had practically threatened Darren in front of him.
Did they seriously punish him… just for not eating in the Slytherin Hall?
Darren waved his hands quickly.
"N-no, it's nothing like that! You're overthinking it, brother. They just—uh—make copy the Slytherin house rules, that's all!"
He tried to sound casual, but his heart skipped a beat.
Wait—was that really the punishnt?
Didn't Snape used to make students copy the rules a hundred tis and do detention?
No one had told him anything about that lately.
Had Snape forgotten?
Darren frowned slightly. Should he… remind the professor?
After all, as the self-proclaid Holy Father, punishnt must be accepted with humility! Otherwise people might think he was being fake!
Harry, however, was fuming.
"Copying the house rules?!" he barked. "Did Snape make you do that?"
Darren stamred again, trying to calm him down. But Harry's face said it all — he already believed it.
Snape, who acted kind in front of everyone, was secretly forcing Darren into punishnts? Making him copy rules for missing als?
Unforgivable!
Before Darren could explain further, a smooth, low voice slid into the conversation like a cold knife.
"Oh? And as a celebrity in this school, Harry Potter — Darren Potter's dear brother — what exactly would you do to ?"
Harry froze. His stomach dropped.
That voice.
He turned around — and there was Snape, his black robes sweeping across the corridor like a shadow.
Wasn't he supposed to be in the Great Hall? How long had he been standing there?!
"Of course," Snape said silkily, "I simply heard soone talking about their poor, mistreated Potions Master, and I thought I'd co over to ask—what rules has he broken now?"
The smirk that followed made Harry's blood boil.
Still, he forced himself to stand tall. "You can't punish Darren just for copying rules!" he snapped.
"Oh? That's my business," Snape drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps I should suggest to Professor McGonagall that you also copy Gryffindor's rules—for backtalking a teacher?"
He flicked his wand sharply. "Ten points from Gryffindor."
Harry's fists clenched. He almost looked ready to punch Snape.
Darren panicked.
If Harry actually hit him, Snape might "accidentally" cast sothing lethal out of sheer rage!
Before either of them could move, Darren darted forward, grabbed Snape's sleeve, and bowed his head.
"Professor, I—I'm sorry," he said quickly. "Harry didn't an it. Please don't be angry with him."
Snape looked down at Darren's hand gripping his arm. His dark eyes flickered.
"Typical Gryffindor foolishness," he muttered. "But you—" he stared directly into Darren's eyes, "—you're supposed to be a Slytherin."
Darren quickly withdrew his hand, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassnt.
Snape's mouth twitched — not quite a smile, but sothing close to it.
"Mr. Potter," he said at last, "that reminds — Professor McGonagall has arranged a week of detention for you. Starting tonight. Report to my office after dinner."
"Yes, Professor…" Darren murmured.
When Snape turned and swept away, Darren couldn't help but sigh.
Poor man.
A whole life spent loving Lily Potter, and now the only comfort he had was looking into her son's eyes.
"Potter! Are you coming or not?"
Kassandra's cold voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Darren jumped. Right — she'd said she'd wait only a minute.
It had been much longer than that.
"I—I'm sorry!" Darren said quickly, bowing his head.
Kassandra's irritation lted a little at his pitiful tone.
"Just hurry up," she said, pointing toward the Slytherin table.
The Slytherins were already waiting. Darren hurried over and sat down beside Malfoy.
Malfoy smirked. "Heard you grabbed Professor Snape's arm. Did he give you detention for it?"
Darren nodded. "He did," he said honestly.
He didn't add that Snape had almost looked… pleased.
After all, to Snape, Lily's son showing closeness probably felt like so small redemption.
n and their goddesses… utterly hopeless.
Darren bit into an apple pie, sighing inwardly.
"When will Hogwarts finally serve proper Chinese food?" he muttered.
Kassandra leaned close and whispered, "After you eat, Professor Snape wants to take you to Madam Pomfrey. Don't run off anywhere."
Darren blinked, then realized—ah, right. He had fallen with Neville earlier during flying class. Snape must've been worried about hidden injuries.
He nodded gratefully and kept eating.
---
Later that evening
After Kassandra escorted him from the infirmary, Darren walked to Snape's office for his detention.
He knocked softly.
No response.
He waited. Five minutes passed. Then ten.
Just as he was about to knock again, he saw a familiar figure coming down the corridor — Professor Quirrell.
Darren imdiately straightened up and greeted him politely.
The man smiled… oddly.
"Ah, Mr. P-Potter," Quirrell stamred. "Why are you standing out here all alone?"
There was sothing strange in his tone — almost too kind.
Darren's instincts prickled. Sothing about Quirrell's expression didn't feel right.
Could it be Voldemort?
But… no, that didn't make sense. How would Voldemort know anything about him? Unless…
He couldn't figure it out. Better to play dumb.
"Professor Snape told to report here for detention," Darren explained earnestly. "But he's not here yet, so I'm waiting."
Quirrell tilted his head. "Ah, I see… poor boy. Why don't you go back to your common room for now? Co back later, hmm?"
Darren blinked.
Wait. Did the professor just… offer to send him away?
Was Quirrell planning to steal sothing from Snape's office?
Stealing potions, maybe?
If Darren left now, that would be suspicious.
And according to his own saintly "character setting," he couldn't just abandon his post.
He smiled shyly and shook his head.
"Thank you, Professor, but I can't leave. I made a mistake, and waiting here might be part of my punishnt."
Quietly, his hand slipped to his wand.
If Quirrell really was up to sothing — or worse, if Voldemort was here — he had to be ready to defend himself.
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