Chapter 654 : Dumbledore's Lesson!!
Hermione's words made Ron burst out laughing.
"Hermione, jealousy is a little girl's problem—and you're not a little girl anymore!"
Darren had a feeling Hermione might want to retort with something along the lines of how she wasn't a little girl, but perhaps she realized that saying so would only make her sound even more jealous.
So she snapped back even more angrily,
"I'm not jealous! I'm angry! You shouldn't just believe everything—"
"Oh, we know, we know," Ron interrupted cheerfully.
"You're either jealous, or jealous—and jealous that Harry suddenly got better than you!"
After all, Ron had always been the one jealous of others.
Seeing Hermione on the receiving end was oddly satisfying.
Hermione nearly clenched her fists in fury.
For the entire next week, Harry followed the instructions in the Potions textbook to the letter every single class.
Although he still couldn't match Darren, it was obvious that he was now performing noticeably better than Hermione.
Darren had quietly suggested that Hermione try his method, which would have easily put her ahead of Harry again.
But Hermione refused.
She said that would be cheating.
And more importantly, she didn't want to give Ron even more excuses to mock her.
Ron, of course, seized every opportunity to bring up how she was "jealous of Harry."
By the end of the week, Hermione practically hated him.
Darren even had the uncomfortable feeling that, if this continued, their friendship might actually crack over something as ridiculous as Potions.
---
Saturday evening, 7:55 p.m.
Harry and Darren finally made their way toward Dumbledore's office.
They deliberately avoided crowded corridors and stopped in front of the stone gargoyle.
"Sour soda."
The gargoyle jumped aside.
They entered.
Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, smiling warmly. When he saw them, he gestured toward the two chairs in front of him.
"Sit down, my boys. How was your week?"
"Very good," Darren replied, nodding.
Dumbledore studied his face for a moment, then smiled with clear satisfaction.
He then turned his gaze toward Harry—cutting off Harry before he could answer.
"Harry's week must have been… memorable," Dumbledore said lightly.
"After all, he's already earned himself a detention. Don't worry—I've spoken to Severus. The detention has been postponed until next Saturday."
Harry's face was full of regret.
He clearly thought: Why didn't he just cancel it altogether?
Dumbledore chuckled softly, then shifted his attention back to Darren.
"I imagine you're wondering how I plan to teach you," he said calmly.
"Last term, I told Harry many things. I don't know how much he shared with you."
"But whether he did or didn't isn't important," Dumbledore continued.
"Because from today onward, we'll be stepping into a series of memories—memories about Voldemort."
He fixed his gaze on Darren.
"I hope that by understanding him more deeply, your… unique perspective might offer insights even I have missed."
Darren answered without hesitation, his voice firm:
"As long as my brother can survive, I'll do anything."
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
Those words made both Dumbledore and Harry fall silent for a moment.
At last, Dumbledore spoke gently.
"I can only promise to do my utmost. Facing Voldemort requires not only power, but decades of experience—experience neither of you possess."
"Still," he added softly,
"I will help Harry survive. Just as you will. And I believe your friends will as well."
Harry felt warmth flood his chest and nodded vigorously.
Darren nodded too, his expression earnest and untainted.
"Good," Dumbledore said.
"Then let us begin."
He rose from his chair and lifted a crystal vial, its contents shimmering softly.
"This is a memory belonging to Bob Ogden," Dumbledore explained.
"He was an Auror in the Ministry's Magical Law Enforcement Division. This is one of his official investigations."
"I sought him out before his death, hoping he would entrust me with this memory."
Dumbledore then looked directly at Harry.
"Harry—you first."
Harry lowered his head and stepped into the Pensieve, vanishing from sight.
Darren was about to follow when Dumbledore suddenly placed his hands on his shoulders.
His eyes were heavy—solemn, almost burdened.
"Darren, you can still turn back," Dumbledore said quietly.
"Once you truly understand him, he will never allow you to escape his notice."
[Ding, Father +100]
Darren said nothing.
He simply lowered his head and stepped into the Pensieve, leaving behind Dumbledore's faint, troubled sigh.
---
Darren felt the familiar sensation of falling.
But instead of landing alone, he felt someone grasp him by the shoulders.
When his feet touched the ground, he realized Dumbledore had followed him in.
They stood on a dusty country road.
Bob Ogden was walking ahead of them, dressed in clothes that looked oddly Muggle-like—an ill-matched shirt and worn trousers.
He looked awkward, almost comical, but Ogden himself didn't seem to care.
Darren noticed the sign by the road.
Little Hangleton Village.
At the village entrance stood a grand, well-kept house.
But Ogden didn't go that way.
Instead, he turned onto a narrow, overgrown path.
After a long walk, they arrived at a house so eerie it made Darren pause.
Snakes were carved all over the walls and doorframes.
The windows were coated in thick dust.
Worst of all—a dead snake was nailed to the front door.
Ogden approached cautiously.
Suddenly, a man leapt down from a tree.
He carried a bow and arrows.
"You are not welcome!"
His eyes darted wildly. His hair was filthy, his teeth blackened and broken.
"Get out!"
Ogden looked confused.
"You… what did you say?"
Harry frowned in confusion as well.
The words were clear—yet Ogden hadn't understood them.
Dumbledore turned to Darren.
"Can you understand him?"
"Yes," Darren replied calmly.
Harry's eyes widened.
"Parseltongue?"
Exactly.
At that moment, the man attacked Ogden.
Ogden cried out as the door burst open and an elderly wizard rushed outside.
"Morfin! Get back inside!"
The man—Morfin—retreated reluctantly.
The older wizard then healed Ogden and spoke in ordinary speech.
"The Ministry? What do you want here? You are not welcome."
"You attacked Muggles," Ogden replied.
"We received a report."
"Muggles?" the old wizard roared.
"Do you know who we are? Do you know whose blood you stand before? Do you know our family name?"
As Darren listened, a strange sense of familiarity settled in his chest.
This family…
They were obsessed with lineage.
With blood.
And with something far older—and darker—than themselves.