Chapter 204: Amy and John, Vera and Sherlock
Chapter 204: Amy and John, Vera and Sherlock
"Did you exchange Galleons for Pounds at Gringotts from the goblins?"
Sherlock's face showed no surprise, only a look of deep regret.
"Yes", the girl nodded gently.
"Is it the salary you saved over the years?"
"Plus a small portion of the inheritance from Dad."
"According to the current exchange rate published by the goblins, one Galleon is worth about five Pounds. So, two hundred thousand Pounds would be forty thousand Galleons."
Sherlock did a quick calculation, and his expression grew even more pained. He turned around and looked at Silke, who was still wearing her wide black robes, her face half-hidden by the hood, and a basket of onions and potatoes hanging from her arm. He sighed helplessly.
"At least tell me before you make such a purchase. Exchanging Galleons for Pounds at Gringotts is a bad deal, and this yard isn't even worth fifty thousand Pounds. That money you earned through hard work, don't you feel bad about it?"
Silke smiled and shook her head.
"No, I don't feel bad."
Since seeing Sherlock again, her smiles had become more frequent, but they were like the flower that blooms at midnight, only showing their fleeting beauty to certain people.
Sherlock sighed again and took the basket of onions and potatoes from her arm.
"Let's go, I want to see your new home. I'll have lunch with you too."
A hint of rare excitement flickered in Silke's eyes, hidden behind the black ribbon. Her steps became lighter as she led Sherlock through the gate of her new home.
The front yard's vegetation remained largely unchanged, except for the two maple trees adorned with pinwheels.
Sherlock followed her into the living room, where the original owner's furniture had long been removed. The new decor was simple, with only a sofa, a coffee table, and a shoe cabinet. There wasn't even a coat stand.
"Wouldn't you become a focal point dressed like this when you go out?"
He pulled down her hood, revealing her face, which was so exquisite it seemed almost otherworldly.
Silke wrinkled her nose, not out of dislike for Sherlock's action, but because she didn't appreciate being treated like a child.
"I used a spell. In the eyes of Muggles, I look very ordinary."
"Then you don't need to wear the hood anymore. Covering your face all the time can make you depressed. Get some sun; it's good for your mood."
Sherlock continued to nag, like a father worried about his child living alone, always finding more things to advise her on.
Silke walked into the kitchen without expression, carrying the basket of vegetables. She peeled the onions and potatoes and washed them in the sink.
"Since you're living here now, what about your job at the German Ministry of Magic?"
"I quit."
"You quit?" Sherlock was taken aback but could guess the reason. He shook his head. "Well, it's for the best. I doubt you liked that place much."
"Since you've quit, take some time to rest at home. If you want to find a job in Britain later, I can help. If you don't feel like working, go on a trip. If you run out of money, just ask me."
Seeing him start to ramble again, Silke guided the knife to chop the potatoes and softly interrupted him.
"I've already found a new job."
Sherlock immediately raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You've only been in Britain for a week, right? That fast? Where's the job?"
Hearing his question, Silke pressed her lips together, the corners of her mouth slightly curling up, but she remained silent, as if waiting for something to happen.
Seeing she didn't want to say, Sherlock didn't press further. Instead, he continued to chatter about social interactions, warning her not to tolerate any bullying and to punch the bully if necessary. If she couldn't handle it, she should come to him for help.
Silke's cooking skills were clearly not up to par. She fumbled with the kitchen tools for over an hour, barely managing to prepare two simple lunches.
Just a basic roasted potato and onion soup, it was evident that making these dishes was already a stretch for her.
Under Silke's somewhat nervous and hopeful gaze, Sherlock took the first sip of the onion soup. His lips twitched momentarily, but he then lavished praise on Silke's cooking, saying that even if all the house-elves at Hogwarts combined their culinary skills, they wouldn't match hers.
Silke's face lit up with a joyful expression, and she tentatively took a sip of her own hard-earned creation. However, her expression quickly returned to its usual blankness.
Seeing Silke spit out the onion soup into the trash bin, Sherlock tried to console her.
"It's not that bad, really. Just use less sugar, less salt, less cream, and cook it a bit longer. Cut the onions smaller, and it will taste much better."
Silke snatched the bowl of onion soup from Sherlock's hand and poured it all down the sink, her face stern, as if she was sulking at herself.
"Let's go out to eat."
"Out to eat what? Leave it to me. I don't know if you'll like it, though." Sherlock rolled up his sleeves and walked into the kitchen.
He didn't need to do the work himself. He simply controlled the few potatoes Silke hadn't used, peeling and washing them with ease. He waved his hand, and the knife flew up, slicing the potatoes into perfect strips, each one identical as if measured with a ruler.
Silke quietly lay on the dining table, watching Sherlock in the kitchen. He lit the stove, poured oil, and added the potato strips, all while continuing to chatter, just like they used to in their small room at the Leaky Cauldron.
"Our Amy is just meant to be a lady. It's fine if she can't cook; you just need to eat. If you're not used to Chinese food, I actually learned a bit of French cooking. I've been experimenting at home, and while no one has given me feedback, I enjoy it."
"From now on, come to my place for meals. I'll always make an extra portion. If you want to stay, I can clean out a room for you. We're both grown women, so it might look a bit odd if others see us, but if someone asks, just say you're my sister. We don't look much alike, though."
"Sherlock." Silke, who had been listening quietly, suddenly called out.
Sherlock turned to her, puzzled.
Silke's expression was serious, her eyes hidden behind the black ribbon also seemed earnest.
"From now on, don't call me Amy. Call me Vera. And don't call me John; just call me Sherlock."
Sherlock paused, looking at the girl's serious face. He blinked, then a smile spread across his face.
"Alright."
(End of Chapter)
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