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Chapter 184 – Who Stole His Invisibility Cloak?
Still wondering who had taken his cloak, Darren washed up, changed clothes, and lay down on his bed, pretending to sleep.
It made perfect sense for him to be exhausted.
After all—according to what the professors believed—he had nearly collapsed earlier, been dosed with Veritaserum in Dumbledore's office, and lectured by Snape.
Anyone would fall asleep immediately after a day like that.
Just as Darren's breathing slowed and he was on the verge of drifting off for real, he heard soft footsteps.
Lezi.
Darren almost sat up.
Huh?
Was he wrong? How could a cat possibly be behind all this?
But then came the unmistakable sound of his cabinet door creaking open.
His cloak cabinet.
A moment later, a furry body hopped onto the bed and wriggled into Darren's arms.
Darren froze.
You little… thief.
This creature—who had been sleeping on him for days, eating scraps students fed him around the castle—had actually stolen his Invisibility Cloak?
He didn't know whether Harry had somehow convinced the cat to steal it… or whether Lezi had done it on his own.
Knowing Lezi? Probably on his own.
Which meant Harry might have seen everything earlier today because of this cat.
But for what purpose? Why would a cat steal an invisibility cloak?
And how did it even carry it without being noticed?
Its mouth? Its paws?
No sense at all.
Darren frowned.
[System, this guy isn't an Animagus, right?]
> Ding! This question requires 100 Father Value.
Fine, take it, Darren grumbled inwardly.
> Father Value –100
Ding! Lezi is not an Animagus.
…So it really was just a cat.
Which only made things more baffling.
[Then why did a normal cat steal my cloak?]
> Ding! 500 Father Value required.
"…Take it."
> Father Value –500
Ding! Lezi lent the cloak to someone else.
Darren almost choked.
This furry freeloader lent my cloak to someone else?
After sleeping in his lap, following him everywhere, and eating well?
Unbelievable.
[To whom?]
Just answer—anything under a thousand Father Value, take it!
> Ding! Identifying the recipient requires 10,000 Father Value.
Darren sat bolt upright.
Ten thousand? For one name? Who is this—Merlin? Morgana?
He gritted his teeth.
[Fine then—forget the name. Just tell me this: will that person harm me?]
> Ding! This question is free.
The System will never allow harm to the host. All events within the host's vicinity are monitored to ensure safety.
Darren exhaled.
So… whoever borrowed it wasn't dangerous to him.
Which explained why the System quietly allowed it.
[Last question, then. Is the person using my cloak male or female?]
> Ding! Female.
A woman borrowing his cloak…
Acceptable, maybe.
But the cat stealing it was still outrageous.
He narrowed his eyes at Lezi.
A punishment was definitely in order.
Something serious.
Like… selling him? Exiling him? Converting him into a stew?
The System chimed in again.
> Ding! Host may exchange Father Value to obtain a system-simulated version of this cat.
The simulated cat will perfectly replicate the original's appearance, movements, and basic behavior.
It will quietly replace the real cat.
[ Note :- cat will not be killed instead it will become simulated cat which will follow host]
> Cost: 10,000 Father Value.
"Ten thousand?" he muttered. "Why not rob me outright?"
But honestly, having a cat roaming around with its own secret agenda wasn't safe.
Especially one that lent out his Death-Cloak like a library book.
[Fine… redeem it.]
He sighed.
A second Lezi materialized in front of him, identical down to the whiskers.
The original Lezi… was gone—absorbed by the simulated one.
Now simulated cat rubbed against Darren and meowed.
"Meow~"
( note :- original cat is not dead , it will just not roam on its own and will not do anything that might endanger darren or his Secrets)
"Okay… just keep acting like you always have," Darren whispered. "If anything important happens, I'll tell you."
---
Quiet Days… Sort Of
Life returned to a strange calm afterwards.
None of the professors seemed aware of the basilisk yet.
Their biggest instruction was simply for students to stay in groups.
For Slytherins, that wasn't unusual anyway.
The only odd thing Darren noticed was that Harry and his friends clearly had a secret.
Every so often, one of them would sneak off.
And they certainly weren't telling Darren about it.
Percy even complained that the trio kept appearing in the girls' bathroom.
Polyjuice, Darren thought.
They were definitely brewing Polyjuice Potion.
Just like in the original story.
What he couldn't understand was why they refused to ask him for help.
Did they think he was too naïve? Too kind?
Probably yes.
But if he didn't understand, he wouldn't dwell on it.
---
It was the day of Gryffindor's Quidditch match.
If the original plot held true… Harry would end up in the Hospital Wing again.
Darren silently thanked Snape for blocking him from joining Slytherin's team.
He also thanked fate that he wasn't the Chosen One—otherwise Dobby might be trying to murder him instead of Harry.
On the pitch, the Gryffindor team stood stiffly, every player tense.
Across from them, every Slytherin player held a brand-new Nimbus 2001.
Gryffindor's team—except Harry—clutched brooms old enough to belong in a museum.
Flint, Slytherin's captain, sneered proudly.
Flint had previously called Darren a disgrace to Slytherin and insulted Hermione for being Muggle-born.
But after Darren forced him to apologize in a whisper in front of the entire pitch, Flint had been cursed with an incredible streak of bad luck.
He'd been scolded by prefects, lectured by professors, teased by his own sister, and had an entire suit of armor fall on him two days ago—sending him to the Hospital Wing.
He'd only gotten out yesterday.
But with Slytherin's newest brooms, he felt unbeatable.
Flint shot Darren a venomous glare.
"Watch us crush Gryffindor," he spat.
Darren raised an eyebrow.
Winning was winning—why brag to him?
Still, he kept his polite smile.
"As long as you use fair play and win through skill, I'd never be angry."
> Ding! Father Value +20
+30
+30
…
Darren smiled cheerfully, though he inwardly doubted Slytherin's chances.
Harry Potter hardly ever lost a match.
And even if he trailed early on, he'd make a miraculous comeback.
If you wanted to beat the protagonist, well—maybe you should try being the protagonist in your next life.
His gaze drifted to the pitch.
Harry waved at him nervously, unaware of the disaster waiting for him today.
Honestly… Dobby was terrifying.
If Dobby ever grew stronger, he might as well try to kill Voldemort directly.
Instead, he was here trying to "save" Harry by nearly killing him.
Darren thanked the heavens—again—that he wasn't the Boy Who Lived.
The match whistle blew.
And the chaos began.
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