Chapter 186: Memory Hall

Chapter 186: Memory Hall

There was only theory, of course, and no way to be certain whether the magic would work as Sherlock had envisioned.

But he had no way to test it on anyone.

He could only confirm that if the information in the Hall of Souls was correct, it would succeed.

Sherlock didn't dwell much on whether it would work or not. He had done everything he could, and whether it would succeed as he anticipated was now up to fate and Snape himself.

That day, after leaving the Hall of Souls, he tidied himself up, had a good meal, and left Amy at the Department of Mysteries before returning to the Leaky Cauldron.

After Sherlock left for the Ministry of Magic, Snape had remained here.

In this world, he had no attachments other than Lily, and beyond trying to save her, he didn't know what else he could do.

When Sherlock pushed the door open, Snape was in the process of tossing a rat's liver into a cauldron. He looked up with a blank expression, staring at Sherlock.

"What are you back for?"

Sherlock stretched lazily and flopped onto a chair, slouching comfortably.

"What? Not happy to see me? If you don't want me here, I can leave, but then you won't get the method to save Lily!"

He said this, but his body showed no signs of moving, remaining sprawled out on the chair.

The days of neglecting sleep and meals to study those obscure and difficult texts had taken their toll, and Sherlock had lost a few pounds. Now, he was too relaxed to make any extra movements.

Snape, upon hearing Sherlock's words, froze as if hit by a Petrification Charm, completely motionless.

The potion in front of him continued to bubble and boil, urging him to add more ingredients, but Snape couldn't focus on it. His eyes were fixed on Sherlock.

"You're serious!"

"Let's not get too excited yet. Hear me out first", Sherlock tried to calm him.

But his words had little effect. Snape was far too agitated, his usual cold demeanor completely gone, replaced by intense eagerness.

"Go on, I'm listening." He took a deep breath, trying to suppress his overwhelming emotions, and sat down in another chair to listen to Sherlock.

"Earlier, I told you that I had some leads on Lily's situation. That's because I found the source of the soul magic that protected Harry."

Sherlock spoke solemnly.

"Lily used this magic on Harry in the end, and that's an established fact. Harry's scar, the Dark Lord's Killing Curse rebounding and hitting himself, losing his power—these are all predetermined events."

"So, we can start from these predetermined events and make slight modifications to the magic that protected Harry, to have it affect Lily as well."

He paused, looking serious.

"Let me clarify one thing: when I say saving Lily, I don't mean she won't die."

Snape's face darkened again.

"Then what's the point!"

"The point is significant!" Sherlock said earnestly. "I promised you that if I couldn't find a way back within two years, we would work together to keep Lily alive. It's not even been two years yet, and this method is at least a form of redemption. You can consider it a safety net. Even if we don't find any other way, this isn't a bad option."

Snape was silent for a moment, then looked up at Sherlock.

"How is your progress at the Ministry of Magic?"

Sherlock sighed and shook his head.

"No progress. The Department of Mysteries' research on time is all about the past and offers no help. To be honest, I don't have much hope of finding a way back, but I just can't accept it and want to keep trying."

He pulled out the magical notes he had been working on for days and handed them to Snape.

"You'll have to find a way to give this to her; I can't help with that. One more thing, Snape—whether or not we can go back, if we do decide to change history to save Lily, don't make any random changes until we have a solid plan. Even the slightest deviation can have a huge impact on the future."

Snape took the notebook from his hand, his gaze vacant, as if pondering Sherlock's words or contemplating how to hand the notebook to Lily without arousing suspicion.

With the item delivered, Sherlock had no reason to stay any longer. He stood up, patted Snape on the shoulder, and turned to leave.

Just as he opened the door and was about to step out, a faint, indifferent voice came from behind him.

"Thank you."

Sherlock's body tensed slightly, but he didn't respond. He simply waved his hand and used Apparition to leave the Leaky Cauldron.

In Room 10, the ruined potion continued to bubble and gurgle. Snape looked at the magic notebook in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip.

His hollow, cold eyes seemed to spark a small flame of hope deep within.

When Sherlock returned to the Department of Mysteries, it was already 11 PM.

At this hour, the Ministry of Magic was already shrouded in silence, and the Department of Mysteries was particularly quiet.

To avoid waking Amy, who was likely already asleep, he chose to Apparate to the black hall instead of directly to his office.

As soon as he landed, Sherlock sensed something was amiss.

One of the twelve doors on the circular wall, a black door, was actually open!

He instinctively frowned, took lighter steps, and approached the slightly ajar black door.

Having spent so much time here, Sherlock could easily distinguish what lay behind each of these black doors. The one that was open led to the Hall of Brains, a room that was usually unoccupied and not under constant surveillance.

Everyone in the Department of Mysteries had their own responsibilities, and the Hall of Brains was a domain that no one was researching at this time, especially not in the middle of the night.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and drew his wand, causing several more wands to float around him. He gently pushed open the door to the Hall of Brains.

The room was as empty as ever, with only one table in the center. A large glass tank filled with dark green liquid contained floating white brains, which looked like harmless jellyfish with their thought tendrils drifting below.

Sherlock's attention, however, was not on these objects. His gaze was fixed on the doors within the Hall of Brains.

One of these doors, which had always been sealed, was now slightly ajar, revealing a clear gap.

The previously locked door was open!

Sherlock's steps were light and cautious as he approached the door. He extended his Control Magic field, peering through the gap to observe the room beyond.

He sensed no one within the room, which appeared to be filled with rows of shelves. On these shelves, long cylindrical glass bottles contained silver threads of light.

Sherlock hesitated for only a few seconds before making his decision. He reached out and pushed the slightly ajar door open.

The door, which had likely not been opened in a long time, creaked loudly on its rusty hinges, the sound piercing the quiet space.

The room was dim, and no lights automatically turned on when he entered.

"Lumos."

Sherlock cast the spell, and the wands floating around him glowed brightly, illuminating the area.

The light from the dozen Lumos spells extended far, clearly illuminating a fifteen-meter radius.

The room was unusually large. Even the Death Chamber, which was about the size of half a football field, was smaller than this space.

Sherlock finally saw what was stored in the glass bottles on the shelves. He recognized these silver threads of light.

During the semester when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, Dumbledore had shown him his own memories, extracting these silver threads from his brain using a wand.

Sherlock slowly walked between the shelves, his footsteps muffled but still clearly audible on the floor.

The Wands floating around followed his steps, gradually moving deeper into the room filled with memories.

Just as he crossed another row of shelves, having walked over ten meters, a hurried set of footsteps suddenly came from outside the room.

The door to the room, which housed various memories, was once again pushed open from the outside. Madame Selwyn, with a face full of anger, stormed in and saw Sherlock advancing further.

"What are you doing here! Who gave you permission to enter!"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks and explained.

"The door to this room was already open when I came in."

However, before he could finish, Madame Selwyn's usual calm demeanor vanished, and she sharply interrupted him.

"Out! I don’t care why you came in! Now, immediately, go out!"

Sherlock had no intention of pushing the matter further. This wasn’t his concern, and given Madame Selwyn's strong reaction, there was no point in staying and risking further trouble.

After he left the Memory Hall, Madame Selwyn, looking tense, circled the room, which was about the size of a football field, making a thorough inspection. Finding no one, she carefully touched a spot on the right wall.

Suddenly, a wooden cabinet sprang out from the smooth, seamless wall, containing memories stored in glass bottles identical to those on the shelves.

She carefully counted the memories, ensuring none were missing, and then let out a long sigh of relief.

She returned the hidden compartment to its original position, then left the Memory Hall, locking the door from the outside with a special magic lock.

The Memory Hall once again fell into darkness.

After Madame Selwyn left, the room remained quiet for about ten minutes. Then, a slender figure quietly dropped from the ceiling, the sound of his landing echoing clearly in the empty space.

His hiding spot was about twelve meters beyond where Sherlock had reached his deepest point.

If Madame Selwyn hadn’t suddenly appeared and driven him out, Sherlock would have taken a few more steps, and his Control Magic would have detected the person hiding in the ceiling.

Unfortunately, that possibility no longer existed.

The slender figure quickly walked to the right wall of the Memory Hall, found the spot Madame Selwyn had touched, and gently pressed it. The hidden compartment containing certain special memories popped out once again.

The silver glow illuminated the young face of the figure, who extended his trembling, excited hands and took the three bottles labeled "Clark Selwyn", placing them in his pocket.

He then drew his magic wand and used Apparition to leave the Memory Hall, which was sealed from the outside.

None of his actions were detected by anyone.

The next day.

Madame Selwyn came to Sherlock's office and found him.

"Sorry, I was a bit agitated last night, Watson."

Though she was apologizing, the fact that she addressed him by his surname rather than his first name revealed her coldness.

Sherlock waved his hand.

"I should be the one to apologize, Madame. When I saw the door to that room open, I should have informed you immediately instead of investigating on my own."

On the surface, that's what he said, but doing so would have been foolish.

Madame Selwyn furrowed her brow.

"Was it not you who opened that door?"

The distrust in her tone was evident, and Sherlock sighed inwardly.

With this suspicion, his actions in the Department of Mysteries would no longer be so convenient. Any further research would likely be labeled as suspicious.

"I truly did not do such a thing, Madame. I entered the room to find the one who opened the door."

Madame Selwyn nodded lightly and said calmly.

"Perhaps that’s the case. But in the future, avoid inquiring into matters unrelated to time research. Focus on your work."

"Understood, Madame."

Sherlock nodded in response.

At that moment, he began to consider leaving the Ministry of Magic.

From what he now understood, the magic research in the Department of Mysteries offered no help in his goal of returning to the correct timeline.

However, the discovery of Horcrux magic was an unexpected gain.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end