Chapter 197: The Best

Chapter 197: The Best

A gentle evening breeze rustled through the forest, the dense foliage whispering softly with a peaceful "rustle."

Silke, who could also be called Amy, stared blankly at Sherlock, who was smiling at her. She slowly extended her hand and grasped the one that was lifting the corners of his mouth.

"John."

Her voice trembled, just like her heart, as she called out the name of the person she had searched for 17 long years.

Sherlock blinked at her and, with his other hand, gently patted her head, sighing.

"You've grown into a fine young woman, but you've become colder. It's not your fault, though; it's your father's. When I let him go in the Department of Mysteries, I told him to spend more time with you. I doubt he listened. But don't blame your dad; that's just his nature. If it weren't for his personality, I wouldn't have met him in the first place."

As Sherlock continued to ramble like an elder, Silke suddenly hugged him tightly!

Warm, soft, and still trembling, she pressed herself against him, leaving Sherlock momentarily stunned.

His arms hung awkwardly, unsure where to place them.

Her muffled sobs echoed in his ear, her voice no longer cold but filled with sorrow and a lingering sense of despair.

"I felt you would leave, but I couldn't tell what kind of leaving it would be. I thought... I thought you were dead."

Sherlock remained silent for a long time, then sighed deeply with a complex expression.

His face softened, and he gently patted Silke's back.

"I'm here now, Amy. Just like I told you, every meeting has a parting, and every parting has a meeting. We were bound to meet again, like now."

Silke clung to Sherlock's waist with both hands, holding him tightly as if afraid he would vanish again.

After a long while, Sherlock gently pushed Silke away, wiping the tears from her face with a smile.

"You're a grown woman now; you can't act like a little girl anymore."

Silke's lips curved downward, clearly displeased with Sherlock's words.

"I'm two months older than John."

She seemed to be emphasizing something, but Sherlock paid no mind, instead patting her head again and turning to look at the gravestone with Eddie's name.

"Can you tell me what happened after I left? How did Eddie... how did he end up like this?"

Even now, Silke held onto Sherlock's arm tightly, not letting him leave her side for a second.

"Father died in the third year after you disappeared."

Silke had regained control of her emotions, but the deep-seated sorrow was still evident in her voice.

"After we left the Department of Mysteries, he was hit by dark magic. St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was helpless; they couldn't completely remove the damage the spell had done to his body. But after just a month of treatment, he insisted on being discharged."

"At that time, the Ministry of Magic conducted a month-long search for you but found no trace. Since you entered the Ministry through a special channel, they couldn't find your exact information, only that you had an uncle living at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Prince and you disappeared together, as if you had vanished into thin air, leaving no trail."

"Father kept searching for you. After he was discharged, he didn't return to his post immediately but took me to places where you might appear."

"He asked me to sense your presence, and I tried my best, but there was nothing. Just as you said, you were going to a place where no one could find you, and indeed, no one could. Father and I searched for over half a year, covering every place in Britain where wizards could be found, but we found nothing."

"The Ministry of Magic had already announced that you died in that battle and posthumously awarded you the Order of Merlin, First Class. But Father and I never believed you were dead. You had said you wouldn't die, that you were still alive."

"Eventually, he returned to his Auror post. Though he never told me, I could sense that he thought you might have been captured by the Death Eaters. In the days that followed, he became increasingly reckless and never came home again."

Her voice trailed off, and she fell silent.

Sherlock didn't rush her, simply waiting patiently.

A moment later, Silke took a deep breath.

"Then, he died two months before the Dark Lord's power was completely overthrown."

Her voice was calm, but it was clear that it was laced with the pain of grief.

"The accumulated injuries from years of fighting prevented him from dodging that fatal curse."

"Because of my father's death, I became a homeless orphan. When the Ministry of Magic was at a loss about what to do with me, that woman returned. She confirmed her identity to the Ministry of Magic and took me away, but she showed no interest in my father's funeral arrangements."

"My father's family only had me, but I was less than ten years old at the time. It was the Aurors who spontaneously organized his funeral, unsure of where to bury him."

"Ultimately, Dumbledore arranged for him to be buried here in the Forbidden Forest. By then, that woman had already gained custody of me, and I had no choice but to go with her to Germany."

"My father's death made me start to question my feelings at the time. I wondered what kind of departure it truly was."

"I asked the Aurors to help me place a tombstone next to my father's grave and to bury everything related to you there. I kept only one photograph for myself."

At this point, Sherlock couldn't help but ask, "The woman you mentioned, is she your mother?"

Silke's voice became even colder, colder than before.

"Technically, my mother."

"She took me back to Germany because she learned about my talents. To get close to the then-head of the Department of Mysteries in the German Ministry of Magic, she changed my name and sent me to the Department of Mysteries. She deliberately made the head of the department take notice of my talents, using most of his time to teach me divination, giving her the opportunity to seduce him."

"That woman's plan succeeded. Three years later, she grew tired of him and dumped him, even boasting about everything to my teacher, who had considered her a friend. My teacher died in the hospital, filled with hatred for her and me."

"Since then, I've stayed in the German Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries and never left."

Sherlock listened to Silke's story. He could imagine, but didn't dare to imagine, how that little girl who couldn't even smile had experienced his departure, attended her father's funeral, and was taken to a foreign country by a mother she had never met, only to be used as a tool.

Amy, at seven, might not have been good at expressing emotions, but that didn't mean she didn't have them.

And now, Silke seemed to have completely closed herself off, using a cold exterior to hide the little girl with the pinwheel, no longer letting anyone get close, until today.

John had once told her that the world was beautiful, only to take that beauty away with his own hands, never letting her feel it again.

How could she truly smile when surrounded by cold, indifferent people?

This time, Sherlock took the initiative to embrace Silke.

He didn't speak, nor did he make any grand promises. He simply said softly, "I'm here now."

Silke didn't respond, just silently buried her face in his shoulder, just like Amy used to.

"Who were the Death Eaters who killed Eddie?" Sherlock asked calmly.

"Bella", Silke's voice came from his shoulder. "She was later captured and sentenced to life in Azkaban."

Sherlock's face showed a cold smile.

"Seems we have a connection. Good that she's still alive. I'll remember her."

His voice returned to a gentle tone.

"What about your eyes? What happened to them?"

Silke kept her face buried in his shoulder, speaking softly.

"They were contaminated by the hourglass in the British Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries. Whenever I focus on something, I'm forced to see the object's past experiences in my mind, which also damages my eyes. After you left, I started wearing this black ribbon. At first, it was uncomfortable, but later, I learned a magic technique in the German Ministry of Magic that gave me another way to see."

Sherlock gently held her shoulders and pulled her back a bit, seeing through the black ribbon to the faintly visible pale golden pupils.

“I’ll help you find a solution. That hourglass isn’t exactly a rare item; there must be a way to resolve it.”

Silke didn’t seem too concerned about the matter. She pursed her lips and said, “With John around, everything else doesn’t matter.”

Sherlock looked at her and smiled silently, not as a promise but as a statement of fact. “I’ll always be here.”

After that, they sat side by side in front of Eddie’s grave. Silke held the old pinwheel in her hand, listening quietly as Sherlock told her about “John” and “Prince.”

He told Silke that Prince was Snape, and about his purpose for entering the Ministry of Magic, the circumstances of meeting Eddie, and his experiences within the Ministry.

But before Sherlock could say much more, he couldn’t keep his eyes open and dozed off, his head tilting to one side. Even in his drowsy state, he was mindful not to lean on Silke. However, once he closed his eyes and fell asleep, Silke gently laid his head on her lap.

Sherlock was utterly exhausted, but before he fully drifted off, he had a faint awareness. In his daze, he felt a faint, sweet fragrance around his nose, a scent unique to girls.

“Will John stay at Hogwarts as a professor forever?”

A soft, gentle voice whispered in his ear, making his ears tingle as if enveloped by a warm breath.

He responded slowly, “I think so.”

Hearing the affirmative answer, Silke didn’t lift her head. She just kept looking at Sherlock’s face, as if she could never get enough of it. At some point, the corners of her mouth curved upward in a gentle smile, unaided by anyone.

The sky began to lighten with the first hints of dawn, the night sky gradually fading. A gentle breeze swept through the forest, and in this moment of transition between night and day, the girl’s smile was the most beautiful thing in the world.

When Sherlock woke up, it was already afternoon. He opened his eyes, a bit disoriented, and stared at the ceiling for a moment before realizing he was lying on the bed in his office.

He got up, looked around the familiar surroundings, and stretched lazily, shaking his head with a smile. The experience of returning to the past felt like a dream that had just ended.

But the small metal box on his desk and the old photograph reminded him that it was all real. Silke must have brought him here, though she was nowhere to be found now.

After a quick wash, Sherlock sat down at his desk and picked up the metal box. This item had been given to him by Eddie before he left the Department of Mysteries, with the instruction to keep it safe.

Its origin was from the Death Eater, Bella’s brother-in-law—Lestrange. The box clearly bore the Lestrange family crest.

Inside the box...

Sherlock gently opened the iron box to find a simple-looking brass key lying inside. He smiled with a sense of satisfaction.

At that moment, a loud knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Sherlock closed the box and slipped it into his pocket, then motioned for the person to come in.

Snape entered the room with a dark expression. “What’s the purpose of the magic notebook you wanted me to give to Lily?”

Snape had tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. He had visited Dumbledore that morning, which was why he was only now able to ask Sherlock this question.

Sherlock yawned and raised an eyebrow. “First, go get Harry. I need to tell you that I’m not entirely sure if it will work as I planned. The magic is still only theoretical, but at this point, there’s nothing to lose, right?”

Meanwhile, in the office of the Department of Mysteries at the German Ministry of Magic, the current head, Kluge, looked shocked as Silke, expressionless, handed him a report.

“You’re resigning!”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end