Darren was just about to explain to the portrait exactly how many noble bloodlines he actually had, when he suddenly noticed many pairs of eyes quietly fixed on him.
He fell silent.
He wanted to mutter sothing about the Holy Father, but Mrs. Black's portrait was simply too shrill. No matter what he said, her voice would completely drown him out.
More importantly—
the noise was hurting his ears.
So Darren had the system quietly apply a sound-blocking charm to himself, like invisible earplugs.
Instantly, the world beca peaceful.
Comfortable.
He even felt that if he added a locking-and-sealing spell to Mrs. Black's portrait, life would be perfect.
Just as he was studying the spell structure—while "listening" through the system—soone suddenly patted his shoulder.
Darren turned around.
It was Harry, looking anxious, clearly saying sothing to him.
Darren, with his ears completely blocked, had no idea what Harry was saying.
So he asked the system to cancel the effect.
The noise rushed back in.
But Mrs. Black's screaming had disappeared.
Sirius had drawn the curtain over her portrait.
Darren looked at Harry and smiled faintly.
"Brother, what were you saying just now? It was too noisy, I didn't hear it."
Harry's face turned pale. He even looked like he needed a deep breath.
But in Darren's eyes, he just hurriedly said,
"It's nothing. Mrs. Weasley asked us to co eat."
After saying that, Harry looked as if he were about to cry and quickly walked away, leaving Darren staring blankly at his back.
Darren suspected Harry had misunderstood sothing.
But he had no proof.
He turned to Sirius Black.
Black forced a smile.
"Darren, welco. This might be the first ti you've properly seen here, but I've already seen you several tis."
Darren nodded obediently, without the slightest objection.
After all, that was true.
The first day he arrived, Dumbledore dragged him in and he slept.
The second day, he was stunned again.
Only today—the third day—did he actually walk around the house.
So it was perfectly normal that Black had seen him before.
But for so reason, compared to Harry, Black's face looked even paler.
He clearly wanted to say sothing, but swallowed it in the end.
"Let's eat," Black finally said.
"Molly's waiting for you."
Darren nodded and walked toward the dining room.
The dining room was already full.
Before Darren arrived, everyone had clearly been worrying about what to say.
Darren wanted to slip in quietly.
But in the hallway, Black deliberately cleared his throat—as if reminding everyone that Darren was coming.
The room instantly fell silent.
Darren was speechless.
He was now seriously starting to wonder:
Am I actually sick?
Are they secretly discussing my condition?
But after waking up, he genuinely hadn't done anything abnormal!
Today, he had been extrely careful—absolutely safe, absolutely guarded.
…Alright.
Maybe they were just overthinking.
Mrs. Weasley quickly stood up.
"Oh, Darren, co sit down! We've been waiting for you. Have so stew—Fleur made it!"
She laughed warmly.
Darren noticed Fleur.
She sat beside an empty seat, without makeup, smiling and waving at him.
"Aren't you supposed to be in France?" Darren asked, puzzled.
It was as if he didn't know Fleur had returned to work here.
"I work at your Ministry of Magic now," Fleur said.
"Headmaster Dumbledore helped arrange it. Now—try this."
She ladled soup into his bowl.
Darren tasted it.
Very good.
He praised it, lowered his head, and continued eating.
Only then did the atmosphere slowly beco lively again.
Fred and George were discussing Extendable Ears.
Harry and Hermione were whispering nearby.
Darren listened unintentionally.
"…He was staring at the portrait earlier. You know how horrible Mrs. Black is when she scolds people, but he didn't seem to hear anything.
"I called him several tis before patting his shoulder. I almost thought he was about to break down."
…Alright.
He had been researching how to shut portraits up without destroying them.
Forget it.
"Yeah, all our wands were ready just now!"
That was Ron.
Darren was speechless.
These people really wanted to ambush ?
This ti, he definitely hadn't been prepared.
A whole group of people, five thousand Holy Father points gone—more expensive than Dumbledore himself.
"This can't go on forever," Harry whispered.
"I don't know who the psychiatrist Dumbledore is bringing."
"Muggle psychiatrists won't work on Darren," Hermione said softly.
"He could deceive them easily. I even suspect he could secretly modify their mories. Don't underestimate him."
Even now, Darren was still being acknowledged as terrifyingly capable.
"No one doubts that," Harry said.
"But he can't always be like this. I even dream now that he goes to Voldemort and dies!"
…Darren felt helpless.
So this was all because he acted too convincingly that day.
Now everyone was terrified by his every move.
"Darren, Darren, are you okay?"
Tonks' worried voice cut in.
She had noticed he hadn't eaten much and thought he was about to collapse.
With Tonks' words, the entire table went silent again.
Everyone looked at him.
Darren was speechless.
But he still replied politely,
"I'm fine. Really. Very good."
At this point, he was actually looking forward to the psychiatrist Dumbledore ntioned—at least then he'd have an excuse to "get better."
He had acted that way before only because he thought Dumbledore would erase his mories.
Who knew Dumbledore would choose therapy instead?
And not until school started.
Truly… speechless.
He couldn't suddenly say he was fine now—
and even if he did, no one would believe him.
A complete miscalculation.
But after stuffing a sausage into his mouth, Darren decided to forget all the troubles.
Because the food was delicious.
After so much chaos, simply being able to eat peacefully was pure happiness.
That happiness doubled—
When Dumbledore appeared, accompanied by soone else.
The psychiatrist.
Alright.
Darren genuinely hadn't expected that when Dumbledore said "psychiatrist," he ant her.
Luna Lovegood.
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