Chapter 100: A Change of Scenery
Chapter 100: A Change of Scenery
During the car ride, Sherlock took the initiative to ask.
"How is his health?"
The elderly butler sitting in the front seat smiled and said.
"Sir's condition has improved. Although he still needs constant care from professional medical staff, at least he's no longer in immediate danger."
Sherlock nodded lightly.
The wealthy don’t die easily, especially not in a country like Britain.
The elderly butler hesitated for a moment, then cautiously asked.
"Sir, how is your memory recovery coming along?"
"It's coming back, bit by bit."
"Are you here to agree to his request this time?"
Sherlock didn’t answer directly but said softly.
"We'll see when we meet."
The butler didn’t press further, but from Sherlock’s attitude, he could tell that Sherlock was not inclined to compromise with his father. He sighed lightly in resignation.
The car drove from Devonshire all the way to a large private hospital in London. The elderly butler then led Sherlock into a standalone building in the corner of the hospital.
This three-story villa, three times the size of Sherlock’s residence, was the private ward of the current Duke of Devonshire, Sherlock’s biological father.
They walked up to the second floor, where Sherlock’s father was staying in the master bedroom. The third floor was where the medical staff, responsible for his 24/7 care, resided.
The butler led Sherlock to the door of the room and stood outside, allowing him to enter alone.
Without hesitation, Sherlock pushed open the door.
The room was spacious, comparable to the living room of Sherlock’s home. Upon entering, his gaze immediately fell on the gaunt middle-aged man lying on the bed.
Victor William Spencer Cavendish, the current 11th Duke of Devonshire.
He didn’t look particularly old, but he was alarmingly thin.
His pale skin clung tightly to his bones, as if there was no muscle left in between.
Even in his current state, one could still see the foundation of his handsome features. If he hadn’t been sick, he would have been a strikingly beautiful man.
The original owner’s appearance was clearly more similar to his father’s, with the same golden hair and blue eyes.
Victor saw Sherlock enter, and they locked eyes, neither speaking for a moment.
After about ten seconds, the middle-aged man on the bed spoke first.
"A year ago, I heard you fell from the second floor and lost your memory?"
Sherlock nodded.
"I did forget some things, but not everything."
"I had Brad deliver the will agreement to you. Why have you only come to see me now, a whole year later?" Victor’s tone was stern, almost accusatory.
Brad was the butler’s name. Sherlock didn’t hide anything and spoke the truth.
"Hogwarts Magic School accepted my application for a professorship, and I spent the year teaching there."
Upon hearing this, Victor’s face turned extremely pale.
He seemed to be forcing the words out through gritted teeth.
"You! You’re associating with those Wizards again?"
Sherlock frowned, realizing Victor’s reaction was even more intense than he had anticipated.
"I am a Wizard myself, and besides, my mother—"
"Shut up! Don’t mention her to me!"
Victor suddenly erupted in anger, followed by a violent coughing fit. Brad quickly brought in a doctor.
"Get out! Get him out of here! He will never inherit anything from me! Go back to those freaks! Never show your face to me again!"
Brad grabbed Sherlock’s arm, trying to calm him as he pulled him out of the room.
Outside the ward, the elderly Brad sighed. "Sir, you haven’t seen each other in years. You shouldn’t have upset him like that."
Sherlock looked at Brad, frowning. "Was my father always so resentful of my mother?"
Brad shook his head. "Not before. At that time, your grandfather was still alive, and your father, as the young master, came home excitedly, saying he had found his true love. Your grandfather asked him to bring the girl home, but he said the woman he loved wouldn’t be content to be a caged bird."
His eyes were filled with reminiscence as he continued.
"I still remember how happy he was. He said the girl had grand ambitions, and they planned to achieve great things elsewhere. He disappeared for a few years, and when he returned, he was a different person."
"He inherited your grandfather’s title and estate, forbidding anyone from mentioning his past. He became irritable and prone to fits of anger, often retreating into himself and tormenting himself."
He sighed. "His health began to decline, and that’s when we learned about your existence."
Sherlock’s frown deepened. From Brad’s words, he sensed some hidden truths about the past.
"Give Sir some time to rest and recuperate, Sir", Brad advised. "Don’t upset him further. His condition has started to improve. Once he’s feeling better, you can talk again."
Sherlock nodded. He had come to understand the Duke’s stance towards Wizards.
It was clear from his attitude what he was thinking.
Sherlock declined Brad's kind offer to send him back and walked out of the hospital alone, aimlessly wandering the streets of London.
Although Sherlock wasn't the original owner's parents' true son, he now understood why the original owner had such a reclusive personality.
A mother who constantly insulted and belittled him, and a father who detested his love for magic.
Neither of them took responsibility for raising him.
Sherlock shook his head and smiled. He felt sorry for the original owner.
Given such a toxic family environment, it was a miracle that he hadn't turned out worse.
No wonder the Weasley couple, Kingsley, and Professor Mcgonagall cared for him so much.
Finding a secluded alley, Sherlock used Apparition to return to his study at home.
He sat in his chair, staring at the portrait covered by a red cloth, lost in thought.
When he came to, he blinked at the portrait, and the red cloth flew off the image of the original owner's mother, Sally Forrest.
Before the witch in the portrait could start her tirade, Sherlock spoke first.
"I'm going out for a walk."
Selena was taken aback, seemingly surprised by Sherlock's sudden announcement.
But Sherlock didn't care about her reaction. He continued on his own.
"Your story is too sad. It's affecting my mood, so I think a few days away would be a good idea."
"You still want to go out and have fun! Disgusting thing! Worthless!"
As soon as Selena regained her composure and started her insults, Sherlock covered the portrait with the red cloth again, silencing her.
He stretched and stood up, then hooked his fingers at a drawer on his desk. The drawer opened, and two letters flew into his pocket.
He left the study, and the bedroom door opened on its own. A few sets of clean clothes and daily necessities neatly folded themselves and flew into a suitcase.
As Sherlock walked into the living room, the suitcase floated to the door, waiting for him to pick it up.
Sherlock wasn't wearing his Wizard Robes but instead had on regular Muggle summer clothes, with a light overcoat.
Once everything was ready, he pushed open the door and walked toward 4 Privet Drive.
4 Privet Drive.
The infamous home of the famous Harry Potter, where he lived with his aunt and uncle.
Harry's uncle, the exceptionally fat Vernon Dursley, grumbled as he picked up the phone.
"This is Vernon Dursley."
At that moment, Harry, who was in his room, froze when he heard Ron's voice.
"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? I'm looking for Harry Potter!"
Ron shouted, startling Uncle Vernon, who held the receiver a foot away from his ear, eyes wide with a mix of fury and shock.
"Who are you?" he bellowed into the receiver, "Who are you?"
"Ron Weasley!" Ron shouted back, as if yelling across a football field, "I'm Harry's friend from school!"
Uncle Vernon's small eyes turned to Harry, who stood rooted to the spot.
"There's no Harry Potter here!" he roared, holding the receiver an arm's length away, as if afraid it might explode. "I don't know what school you're talking about! Don't call here again, you little brat!"
He threw the receiver back onto the phone as if it were a poisonous spider.
Then he turned his furious gaze on Harry.
"How dare you give your phone number to someone like you!"
Harry nodded in acknowledgment, used to the Dursleys' treatment.
He was a hero at Hogwarts for solving the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and defeating the Basilisk, but none of that mattered to the Dursleys. Harry was always the type of person they despised.
"Go wash the socks! We provide you with food and clothes, not to sit around and do nothing!"
Harry nodded again, feigning compliance.
"Sure, I understand. I'll do it right away."
Just as he turned to go wash the Dursleys' smelly socks, the doorbell rang.
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(End of Chapter)
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