Arknights emdfield release date has been announced:- January 22
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Chapter 461: The Old Wand!!
Yes.
Ron had only wanted to tell them what the first task was. Darren passed the message on to Harry after class, but Harry wasn't moved at all. He was still furious, so Darren didn't push the issue again.
The next morning, when Darren stepped out, the corridor was already packed with people.
Some were shouting encouragement.
Some were holding up badges with Darren Victory on the front.
And on the back—
"Potter Stinks."
Darren had tried to make them stop, but they didn't think he had any right to interfere.
Before Darren could offend half the school by arguing with everyone, Harry quietly pulled him back.
He didn't think Darren needed to fight with them over something like this.
Even if Darren argued, no one would listen.
In the end, Darren had no choice but to let it go.
Harry thought Darren really was too good-natured.
Ron would never have tolerated this.
Maybe because they were afraid Darren would actually get angry, those students eventually scratched out the insult on the back.
Only Darren Victory remained.
Darren's mood improved a little.
After lunch, Professor McGonagall finally came looking for them.
She told Darren and Harry to follow her.
Darren noticed her face was pale.
Harry looked no better.
Both of them were shaking slightly.
Suddenly, Darren realized something was wrong.
He quickly adjusted his expression so he wouldn't look too relaxed by comparison.
She stopped and looked at them, her voice trembling.
"Children… if you really can't manage it, you must shout. Just call for help… don't be embarrassed… you're only fourteen…"
Her voice broke.
Then she suddenly leaned forward and pulled both of them into a tight hug.
"Come back alive, my dears."
She personally led them to the champions' tent.
Just as Darren was about to go inside, he spotted Snape striding toward them.
"Severus?"
Professor McGonagall looked at him in surprise.
Snape pressed his lips together.
"I need a word with my student."
"Severus, they're about to compete…"
Professor McGonagall sighed.
"Try not to be too harsh."
Clearly, she was worried about Darren.
"Come here."
Snape said coldly.
He walked with Darren to a quiet corner.
From inside his robes, he pulled out two small bottles.
"If you're losing," Snape said flatly, "pour these straight into their mouths."
Darren looked at the liquid sloshing inside.
Judging by the colors alone, it looked lethal.
He honestly doubted they were even legal.
Snape wasn't finished.
He drew out another wand.
"Take it."
Darren froze.
The Elder Wand.
Dumbledore's wand.
"…To blow up the dragon?"
Darren blurted out.
Snape looked at him strangely, as though Darren had just enlightened him.
"Yes. If Neville Longbottom were here, he'd be perfect. With his talent for blowing up cauldrons, this would be effortless."
"And that Seamus Finnigan as well. A rare gift!"
Darren nearly burst out laughing.
So Snape did know.
But he still hesitated and said, "Professor… they're just dragons. You don't need to treat them like Death Eaters."
Snape snorted.
"And if the Death Eaters are disguised as dragons?"
…
Darren didn't even know what to say to that.
What kind of imagination produced Death Eater dragons?
But Snape didn't look like he was joking at all.
He actually started thinking it through.
Darren could practically see it on his face.
"Darren, hurry up!"
Ludo Bagman shouted from the entrance of the tent.
"I'm about to announce the rules!"
Darren turned to leave.
Snape suddenly grabbed his sleeve.
Darren thought he was about to say something serious.
Instead, Snape just released him again.
"Go."
His voice was cold.
But his hand lingered for half a second too long.
Darren sighed inwardly.
Then he stepped forward, hugged Snape quickly and whispered, "Don't worry, Professor. I'm not dying today."
Snape stiffened.
Then scowled.
"Insolent. Ten points from Slytherin."
Darren walked away, helpless.
Good grief.
Even now?
Tsundere, to the end.
He finally entered the tent.
Inside, Viktor Krum sat stiffly, pale as paper.
Fleur had her hands clasped together, murmuring prayers to whichever god would listen.
Harry was gripping his wand like it was the only solid thing in the world.
He jumped when Darren walked in.
"Alright! Relax, everyone!"
Bagman said cheerfully.
"Make yourselves at home!"
Honestly—
If Snape heard that, he'd be poisoning Bagman's tea by dinner.
Who feels at home when they're about to fight dragons?
"Now then! Come draw your lots! Let's see which dragon fate gives you!
Your task is simple—get past your dragon, steal the egg!
Nothing to it, just have fun!"
Harry's mouth twitched.
Krum looked slightly green.
Fleur continued praying harder.
Bagman reached into his bag.
"Ladies first!"
Fleur looked like she wanted to curse him in five languages.
She drew.
Then Krum.
Then Harry.
Finally, Darren.
He unfolded his slip—
Hungarian Horntail.
The most vicious one.
The same dragon Harry should have faced originally.
Fleur gasped.
Harry turned pale.
Fleur even tried to switch with him.
Bagman shook his head at once.
"No swapping! Face your own dragon!"
Then he shot Darren a look.
A very knowing look.
As if he'd clearly noticed the potions Snape had given him earlier.
But he said nothing.
Darren returned the look with a stiff smile.
So much for secrecy.
Even Bagman noticed.
The Elder Wand, safely hidden in his robes, felt heavy against his side.
Snape had given him both poison and god-tier equipment.
Dumbledore had really trusted him with the Elder Wand.
As if Darren could just run off with it.
As if Dumbledore didn't know—
The wand still answered to him.
Unless Darren defeated Dumbledore, it would never truly be his.
And if Darren did defeat Dumbledore…
Running away with a wand would be the least of anyone's problems.
Ever since Dumbledore learned about Darren's bloodline, his trust in him had been absolute.
Possibly even more than his trust in Harry.
Which, frankly…
Was classic Dumbledore.
A complete double standard.