Chapter 134: The Pendant Box That Won't Come Off

Chapter 134: The Pendant Box That Won’t Come Off

When Sherlock woke up, he found himself lying in a bed at Hogwarts Hospital Wing.

Although there was no strong smell of disinfectant, the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was a stark white.

"Very nice, I really like white."

This was the first cheerful sentence he uttered after waking up.

"It seems your spirits haven't dampened."

A calm voice spoke from beside him.

Sherlock turned his head and saw Silke sitting next to him.

"Oh! We've finally come out of the underground, what a delightful thing!"

Silke rang the bell by his bed to summon Madam Pomfrey.

"You're already happy enough."

"Don't always have that stern face, Silke. Be happy! We should laugh, just like me. I feel fantastic! My state is excellent, and I could stay this happy forever!"

While Sherlock was babbling about how happy he was, Madam Pomfrey walked in with a potion.

"His state is indeed as you described, overly excited", Madam Pomfrey confirmed after another examination. "It's almost as if he's had an overdose of the Euphoria Potion."

"This bottle of Sadness Potion should help calm him down, but I'm not entirely sure about the dosage", Madam Pomfrey said, puzzled.

Sherlock shook his head happily.

"Sadness Potion? I don't want to be sad. Isn't being happy good? Why make someone feel sad?"

Of course, no one took his words seriously. Madam Pomfrey studied Sherlock for a bit longer, then determined the correct dosage and supervised him as he drank the entire bottle of Sadness Potion.

Silke didn't leave and stayed by his bedside.

After taking the potion Madam Pomfrey had prepared, Sherlock's state visibly calmed. His smile gradually faded, and he was able to converse normally.

"Looks like we need to be more cautious when using such a Patronus Charm in the future", Sherlock said, rubbing his temples.

While an overflow of positive emotions wasn't a major issue—without Madam Pomfrey's potion, he would have been fine in a week or two—it could be problematic during a critical battle.

Just as he was feeling a bit down about this, Sherlock noticed an old pendant box around his neck that he had never seen before.

"What's this?" He picked up the dark gold, circular pendant box and frowned.

Silke also noticed it.

"Didn't you have this before we went underground?" Her tone became slightly more serious.

Sherlock shook his head.

"No, I've never seen this thing before."

He tried to remove the pendant box from his neck but found it impossible. An invisible barrier seemed to be keeping the chain between his neck and head, making it impossible to take it off no matter how he tried.

Sherlock's expression turned grave.

He stopped trying to remove it and looked at Silke.

"Is this something from that Straw Golem?"

Silke also realized that something was unusual.

"No, it didn't have this when it escaped."

Suddenly, she seemed to have an idea.

"It draws its strength from fear. If it were at its peak, it wouldn't be as weak as it is now. But since it fled to Britain, it has been very low-key, not trying to spread fear to regain its strength. Instead, it came straight to Hogwarts."

"It was looking for something."

Sherlock looked down at the pendant box hanging from his neck and tried to open it, but he couldn't.

There were no visible clasps on the box, yet he couldn't open it from the outside.

"Could this be what it was looking for?" Sherlock said gloomily.

For some reason, his mood suddenly turned sour, a mix of worry and disappointment.

He looked at Silke.

"Can you tell me now what that Straw Golem really is?"

Silke spoke calmly.

"This is the highest secret of the German Ministry of Magic and one of the main subjects the Department of Mysteries has been monitoring for nearly a century."

Sherlock thought she was refusing to answer, but she continued.

"Its name is Fiddlesticks, and it originally came from Azkaban Island."

"Azkaban?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

The original owner was an expert in studying dark creatures, and the most famous of these, the Dementor, was his primary subject of research.

The Dementor and Azkaban are almost symbiotic in nature.

Azkaban, now the most notorious Wizard prison in the entire magic world, was originally just a small, ordinary island in the North Sea.

In the early 15th century, this island did not appear on any maps, whether Muggle or Wizard.

One day, a Wizard of unknown nationality named Axtis arrived on this island and built a castle, where he lived alone thereafter.

Axtis had already gone mad by the time he arrived on the island.

His magic was extremely powerful, and he frequently conducted some of the most heinous Dark Magic experiments, deriving pleasure from luring, torturing, and killing Muggle sailors who passed by.

At that time, the Ministry of Magic was still in its infancy, not yet fully established, and only the Wizard's High Court—the Wizengamot—provided weak governance over the magic world.

Azkaban, being far from the British mainland, naturally did not receive much attention from them. It wasn't until after Axtis's death, when the concealment spell he had placed on the island failed, that Wizards discovered it.

But by then, the island was already teeming with hundreds, if not thousands, of terrifying creatures that could drain a person's hope—the Dementors.

This is the earliest recorded instance of a large-scale Dementor colony in the history of the magic world.

Afterward, the Ministry of Magic converted the island into a prison for Wizard criminals, with all the Dementors serving as guards.

However, the relationship between the Dementors and the Ministry of Magic was never one of employment but of cooperation.

The existence of Dementors is entirely inhumane.

There have been proposals within the Ministry of Magic to destroy the island, but while the island could be destroyed, the Dementors could not be completely eradicated.

They feared that these monsters might escape to the British mainland, causing even greater trouble.

Thus, turning it into a Wizard prison and actively sending prisoners to the island to feed the Dementors, ensuring they stayed satiated and did not escape, became the perfect solution.

One could say that the island has been the most evil place in the magic world for nearly a century.

"Before the British Ministry of Magic established a prison on that island, someone explored it and brought out an evil soul—Federick."

Silke spoke softly.

"It has no fixed form, but when necessary, it can create a physical body, which is the Straw Golem appearance."

"It is even more terrifying than a Dementor. While Dementors feed on hope, Federick creates fear, deriving pleasure from devouring souls filled with terror, thereby growing stronger."

"In 18th-century Northern Europe, it caused a series of brutal massacres, with entire Muggle towns being wiped out in some cases."

"Repeating the dying words of its victims was its greatest joy, and tormenting people with their greatest fears was its favorite pastime."

"The Straw Golem, holding a scythe in one hand and a lantern in the other, became the most widespread horror story among Muggles during that period."

"One day, a powerful Wizard defeated it but found it impossible to kill. Instead, he captured it and brought it to the newly established German Ministry of Magic."

"Since then, Federick, the demon of fear, has been imprisoned in the Department of Mysteries of the German Ministry of Magic, guarded by the Silencer. To this day, I am the one responsible for watching over this demon."

"However, it has never stopped resisting. Over the nearly two centuries it has been imprisoned in the Ministry of Magic, it has been secretly amassing its strength. Four months ago, it finally escaped."

Sherlock listened to Silke's entire account, and his concerns only grew.

"Being imprisoned for over two centuries, and upon escaping, the first thing it wants is to find this thing—it sounds like a real troublemaker."

Silke then noticed Sherlock's mood.

"The amount of potion seems to be a bit much for you."

She rang the bell again, summoning Madam Pomfrey to check on Sherlock's condition.

"How are you feeling now?" Madam Pomfrey asked sternly.

Sherlock responded weakly.

"Not great. I feel terrible, like I have no time left and am about to die."

Madam Pomfrey nodded in satisfaction.

"At least the Sadness Potion wasn't too excessive. You just feel like you can't go on living. If you had felt suicidal, I would have had to give you some Joy Potion to counteract it. As it is, you should recover naturally within a week."

Sherlock left the hospital wing with a heavy heart.

"This thing was likely found in the abandoned goblin command center. I can contact the Ministry and reach out to the goblin I spoke with before. He might know something about it."

Silke and Sherlock parted ways in the corridor on the Fifth Floor.

He continued alone toward the third floor, planning to go straight to Dumbledore to see if he could help remove the pendant from his neck.

Sherlock slowly made his way down the stairs, and it was just the time when the students were finishing their classes.

Due to Black breaking into the Gryffindor common room last night, all the students had been arranged to sleep in the Great Hall.

After the professors thoroughly searched the castle and confirmed that Black was not hiding somewhere in Hogwarts, the school returned to normal the next day.

As he slowly walked to the third floor, he ran into Harry and his friends, who had just finished their class.

"Professor, where were you last night? Why didn't you come to the Halloween Feast? Did you know that Black broke into the school?"

As soon as Harry saw Sherlock, he couldn't help but bombard him with a series of questions.

Sherlock looked at him with a lack of energy and said sadly,

"I wanted to attend the Halloween Feast, but unfortunately, I missed it. As for Black breaking in, that's bad news, Harry. It seems your luck hasn't been great these past few days. I need to speak with Dumbledore about something, so I don't have much time to chat. Goodbye."

With that, he continued his slow, listless descent down the stairs.

Hearing Sherlock's words, Harry stood rooted to the spot, as did Hermione and Ron.

"Did you hear that!" Harry exclaimed in surprise after a moment, "Professor said my luck hasn't been great these past few days!"

Ron looked at him with envy.

"Your luck is about to turn, Harry. You're going to be the luckiest person in the whole castle."

Harry's face lit up with anticipation.

"The best thing I can imagine is Black being caught, and someone signing my permission slip so I can visit Hogsmeade on weekends!"

Hermione frowned and said,

"Professor Forrest seems a bit down today."

"Although it might sound bad, if the professor had been in a good mood, we would have been in trouble when we greeted him", Ron shrugged.

"Let's think about how to get through the next couple of days, Harry. I think you should look into whether the Daily Prophet is running any lotteries and try to win a big prize."

They quickly got excited about this idea, while Sherlock had reached the stone gargoyle on the third floor.

"I need to see Dumbledore. Can you let him know?"

The stone gargoyle didn't speak but seemed to communicate with Dumbledore's office in some way. It then moved aside, allowing Sherlock to enter.

Sherlock ascended to the eighth floor and pushed open the door to the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore looked up at Sherlock and immediately noticed that he didn't seem to be in the best state.

"You're not in a good mood, Sherlock."

Sherlock sat down opposite Dumbledore, slumping over the desk as if his upper body had no bones.

"Madam Pomfrey gave me an excessive dose of the Sadness Potion. Now I'm feeling quite sad."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed slightly.

"I know you went out with Silke last night. What happened?"

Sherlock recounted their experience from the previous night in a melancholic tone, finally placing the pendant that wouldn't come off his neck in front of Dumbledore.

"Do you know what this is, Professor? Or can you help me take it off?"

Sherlock's position allowed Dumbledore to pick up the pendant.

He examined the old, dark gold circular pendant, his frown deepening.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end