---
Chapter 243 — Something Is Wrong With the Simulated Cat!!
After Darren assured Harry, several days passed.
During this time, Harry followed Darren everywhere.
According to him, he was afraid Darren might encounter danger.
Darren felt that even if danger really came, dragging Harry along would only add one more person to be sacrificed.
But as a little Father, he obviously couldn't say that.
So he simply let Harry follow.
Today—
When they returned from outside the castle, they heard Mr. Filch swearing loudly.
Argus Filch, Hogwarts' caretaker, had always disliked students.
But ever since Mrs. Norris was petrified and Darren defended him to Dumbledore, preventing Filch from being fired… his attitude toward Darren had changed completely.
He was no longer fierce.
He had become almost friendly.
Sometimes he even brought Darren snacks.
And today, he was crouched over the floor, muttering curses as he scrubbed.
"Oh, Darren, careful now—don't slip! That wretched Peeves has made a mess of the whole corridor again…
Oh, right! Darren, have you wanted those biscuits from last time? I saw the kitchens made a new batch today. You should get to the Great Hall early or there won't be any left!"
The biscuits Filch meant were a new invention—
enchanted treats that transformed into whatever shape the eater imagined.
Students adored them—not for eating, but for playing.
They often reshaped the cookies into Lockhart's or Snape's faces, making them fight each other.
The cookie Lockhart almost always ended up smashed.
"Thank you, Mr. Filch. And keep an eye on next month's Wizengamot Gazette. I've prepared a little surprise for it.
It's still in its early stages, so it may take some time to finish… but please trust me. Believe in the future."
Darren smiled gently.
Filch didn't understand what kind of "surprise" Darren meant, but at this point he trusted Darren completely.
Buying a newspaper was nothing.
"Of course—I'll buy it…"
Filch was about to continue when his expression suddenly changed.
A deafening bang echoed through Hogwarts.
Immediately followed by Peeves' gleeful shrieking:
"Hahaha! A student's been hit! A student's been hit!"
"I'm going to strangle him!"
Filch didn't even have time to say goodbye before he bolted away.
Darren made a show of wanting to run after him, but Harry grabbed his sleeve.
"No, don't go. It's nothing serious… If you go, Peeves will definitely drag you into whatever he's plotting.
Last time he accused you of petrifying Justin and Nearly Headless Nick.
He's been spreading stories these days that make it sound like he's trying to send you straight to Azkaban."
Hermione huffed angrily.
Darren's face instantly turned pale, his head lowering in guilt.
"I'm too weak… Peeves is right. I didn't save Justin… and I caused Nick to be petrified…"
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
His voice trembled. His eyes turned red.
They had thought Darren didn't care anymore, but clearly he had been blaming himself all along.
"Don't be stupid," Harry sighed. "You didn't petrify anyone."
"Yeah! You're not Merlin—you can't save everyone," Ron added helplessly.
Darren opened his mouth to speak—
But a sudden scream cut through the hall.
"It's Myrtle! I'll go check. What if something happened?"
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
Darren rushed toward the bathroom.
But the moment he entered, he nearly rolled his eyes.
A triggered plot.
Myrtle was wailing loudly, flinging a diary across the tiled floor.
It was that diary.
Tom Riddle's diary—the same one Darren had encountered before.
Myrtle's shrieking was louder than ever.
Darren's ears buzzed painfully.
He wanted to cover them and leave immediately—
But.
"What's wrong, Myrtle?"
As the little Holy Father, of course he couldn't just walk away.
He forced a gentle smile… though he still looked scared.
"Oh—it's Darren!" Myrtle sobbed. "Darren, they bullied me! They threw things at me! I was here thinking about life, thinking about your handsome little face… and then they hit me with something! It's too awful!"
Her wails echoed through the bathroom.
Darren hurried to offer her a tissue, but she couldn't grab it through her ghostly form, and cried even harder.
"Oh, stop it! They just threw something! You're a ghost—it passes right through you!"
Hermione said bluntly.
She dragged Darren a step away and explained, smiling:
"Myrtle is always like this. Ignore her and she'll get sad again.
And, well… if she keeps crying, that's even worse. You don't want to make her too sad, do you?"
"Is… is that so?"
Darren looked doubtful—
But then immediately believed her.
Not because Myrtle's crying annoyed him, but because Hermione sounded so certain.
"Thank you, Hermione. If not for you, I might have upset Myrtle again.
I'll ignore her from now on!"
He declared solemnly, letting Myrtle sob behind him as he walked toward the bathroom door.
He just wanted some peace.
Don't ask him who Peace is.
Darren rubbed his ears, trying to calm them, when suddenly—
He saw his cat.
Lezi.
Or… the cat that was supposed to be Lezi.
It stood in the doorway, meowing at him urgently.
Wait.
That wasn't right.
The real Lezi had long since been replaced by a simulated cat.
But even so, the mimic had always behaved exactly like the original.
The real Lezi would always leap into Darren's arms the moment it saw him.
This one didn't leap.
Instead, it stood there, meowing pointedly—as if trying to get Darren to follow.
"Lezi? Are you calling me? What's wrong?"
Darren pretended not to notice anything strange and walked toward the door curiously.