Chapter 517 – It's Almost Over!!
"Master… we… we really want to know… how did you do it… this miracle… how did you return to us…"
A Death Eater asked reverently.
Voldemort threw back his head and laughed.
"That," he said, "is a very long story. More than ten years ago, I was calculated against by that foolish woman. From that day on, I walked farther than anyone else on the path to immortality. I conquered death itself.
"I was reduced to wandering, exiled to the forests of Albania. Three years ago, a wizard was tempted by me and helped carry me away… but I failed again. Not because of this boy—" his gaze flicked to Harry, "—but because of Darren Potter."
Voldemort walked to Darren's side.
He cast another revival charm on him, as if deliberately testing whether Darren could still cling to life.
This time, Darren seemed to improve slightly.
That small reaction put Voldemort in a noticeably better mood.
He straightened and continued,
"I was defeated. I had no choice but to retreat once more.
"Then Wormtail found me. During the summer holidays, we encountered Bertha Jorkins of the Ministry of Magic. From her mouth, I learned the whereabouts of one of my most loyal servants."
His voice grew sharper.
"That servant—who had served me faithfully at Hogwarts for an entire year—brought Harry Potter to me. And of course, Darren Potter as well.
"He defeated me once before. He is a strong man. I grant him that honor.
"And had he known the truth, he would have understood that Dumbledore never had good intentions. Dumbledore wanted to raise him like a dog—"
"Today!"
Voldemort's voice thundered.
"My servant brought them here. Wormtail resurrected me using my father's bones, a servant's flesh, and the blood of the enemy—Harry Potter.
"For this—Wormtail lost an arm!"
Voldemort walked up to Wormtail and flicked his hand, signaling him to raise his arm.
Before everyone's eyes, flesh began to grow.
A new hand formed—shining, silvery, metallic.
Yet when Wormtail flexed it, it moved as naturally as a real hand.
"Thank you… thank you, Master!"
Wormtail pressed his lips to the hem of Voldemort's robes.
Voldemort laughed loudly.
"Now," he said softly, "you have no reason left to betray me. Isn't that right?"
Wormtail nodded, tears streaming down his face.
Voldemort snorted, then turned his gaze toward Harry.
Harry finally felt a brief sense of relief.
At least while Voldemort was explaining himself to the Death Eaters, he hadn't continued the torture.
Otherwise, Harry knew he would already have lost his mind.
"Stand up," Voldemort said coldly. "Coward. Come—duel me.
"I will kill you in front of everyone. Kill you—the boy who once defeated Voldemort.
"Only then can I openly announce something. Something that will make every powerful being kneel sincerely."
He roughly picked up Harry's fallen wand and shoved it into his hand.
For a fleeting moment, Harry truly wanted to run.
But then he saw Darren, lying not far away.
And he abandoned that thought at once.
He couldn't escape alone.
And there was no way he could take Darren with him.
"Crucio."
Another wave of agony tore through him.
Voldemort's voice followed, cold and impatient.
"Stand up. Don't make me look down on you again… or else—
"Imperio."
Harry's mind went strangely light.
Everything blurred.
He heard a voice whispering,
"Just say it. Say you'll sever all ties with Darren Potter."
"I—"
Harry opened his mouth—
and suddenly snapped back to himself.
No.
"I won't!"
He roared, fury bursting out of him.
Darren was all he had left.
His family. His brother.
He had only Darren.
In a surge of emotion, he raised his wand.
"Expelliarmus!"
Voldemort shouted at the same time,
"Avada Kedavra!"
A smile appeared at the corner of Voldemort's lips.
He was certain he had already seen Harry's death.
But then—
Something went wrong.
Their wands connected.
Voldemort's palm began to tremble violently.
Even he couldn't break free.
The wand wouldn't stop shaking.
Both Voldemort and Harry were lifted into the air at the same time.
From the ground, Darren almost laughed.
Half-lidded eyes watching the scene, he felt only one thing—
Voldemort looked utterly humiliated.
A grand public execution, broadcast to all… and not only did the target not die, Voldemort himself got dragged into it.
A phoenix's song rang through the graveyard.
Warmth spread faintly through Darren's body.
He suspected Fawkes had come—but he had no proof.
Still, he waited.
There had to be a reason for him to wake now.
At the very least, Harry couldn't leave without him.
Otherwise, his role here wouldn't be dramatic enough.
He still needed to harvest a massive wave of Father Points before leaving.
Darren narrowed his eyes.
He saw the golden light erupting from Harry's wand, intertwining with the green light from Voldemort's.
Then—
A wand flew out of Voldemort's grasp.
From the silver hand.
Wormtail's hand.
Figures began to emerge.
First—
A man.
Amos Diggory.
In a distant, sorrowful voice, he said,
"Take me back… will you take me back?"
Then came an old man.
Then Bertha Jorkins from the Ministry of Magic.
Then—
Lily and James.
They surrounded Harry protectively.
And finally, they drifted toward Darren.
James's voice trembled.
"I'm sorry…"
In such a heavy, emotional moment, Darren almost wanted to open his eyes and say—
No need to apologize. There are plenty of people lining up to call me Dad these days.
But the atmosphere was too solemn.
He didn't want to ruin it.
Still, he slowly opened his eyes, as if strength had suddenly returned to him.
He struggled to sit up.
It was as though only now did he truly see Harry.
"Harry…"
At the same time, he saw Voldemort.
Anxiety and worry filled his eyes.
The spirits that had emerged from Voldemort's wand drifted around Darren.
"Darren," Amos Diggory said calmly now,
"take me back. Give me back to my wife and my son."
Darren's eyes turned red.
He nodded hard.
But the moment he forced himself upright, blood began to seep from his wounds again.
Next appeared an elderly Muggle man.
"Take your brother," the man urged gently. "Leave quickly."
Darren's eyes burned even hotter.
He said hoarsely, filled with guilt,
"I'm sorry… I couldn't save you…"
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding…]
"Oh, child," Lily said softly, "you are not a savior. Don't try to save us."
She seemed to want to hold him.
But in the end, she let herself drift away.
"Go," she said. "Take Harry and leave."
"Go! Now!"
James and Bertha Jorkins urged together.
Darren took a deep breath.
He rushed to Amos Diggory's body, lifted it with effort, and staggered forward, moving out through the center of the Death Eaters.
Some of them raised their wands, intent on killing him.
But Voldemort stopped them.
"Let him go," Voldemort said coldly.
"Don't interfere. I'll deal with him personally in a moment.
"It will all be over very soon."