Chapter 206: The Burning Scar
Chapter 206: The Burning Scar
When Harry knocked on the door, Sherlock was having breakfast. He held a sandwich in one hand and the Daily Prophet in the other, discussing the news with Silke.
"This year's Quidditch World Cup final is being held in the UK, with Ireland facing Bulgaria. I know you're not particularly interested in Quidditch, and I'm not a huge fan either, but it's always good to get out and see things."
"I've already got two tickets, though to be honest, they weren't really mine. Kingsley gave me his and Mad-Eye Moody's tickets. Once the tournament starts, they'll be swamped with work and won't have time to go."
When the knock came, Sherlock had already used Control Magic to identify the visitor.
He snapped his fingers, and the living room door opened on its own.
Harry ran in, out of breath, bending over and supporting his knees with his hands. As soon as he entered, he started speaking.
"Professor, I snuck out to tell you something. I don't know if it's important, but my mother thinks it is."
Only then did he notice the stunning but unfamiliar girl sitting at the table.
Harry's mouth dropped open as he watched Silke sip her milk, then he turned to look at Sherlock, whose eyes were still on the Daily Prophet.
"Pro-professor, did I come at a bad time?"
Sherlock finally looked up from his newspaper, snapped his fingers, and Harry felt a light tap on his forehead, even though they hadn't touched.
"What do you mean, a bad time? Avera, you should remember her from last semester. She wore a big hat and appeared in the castle several times. She's staying with me now, um, my niece? Sister? Or—"
Sherlock seemed unsure about the title and turned to Silke, testing a few options.
Silke's face was serious as she said matter-of-factly,
"I'm a year older than you, and we have no blood relation. You and my father, and you and I, are separate. Right now, we are friends."
Sherlock cleared his throat.
"Alright, we're friends."
Harry looked at the girl with the black ribbon over her eyes, her beauty enough to make anyone pause. Thanks to Sherlock's reminder, he quickly recalled where he had seen her before.
At the start of the last semester, she had come to the Great Hall wearing a hood that covered most of her face, and many students, including Harry, had seen her.
"You can call her Silke. This is my student, Harry Potter. You've probably heard of him", Sherlock introduced them.
Harry bowed his head respectfully.
"Hello, Silke."
Upon hearing Harry Potter's name, Silke's face didn't show much surprise or curiosity. She simply nodded in greeting.
"Hello."
Sherlock pulled out a chair for Harry, gesturing for him to sit.
"Let's talk while you sit. If you haven't had breakfast, join us. I made extra."
"Aunt Petunia—"
"Don't worry. If you're concerned, I'll take you back later and say I brought you out."
Hearing this, Harry let out a sigh of relief and sat down at the table. Silke got up and brought him a plate of breakfast.
“I had a dream about Voldemort!” Harry gulped down half a glass of milk and blurted out.
Sherlock’s hand paused briefly as he was about to take a bite of his sandwich, but he quickly resumed eating.
“And then?”
“I saw him in an old, dilapidated house. Peter was kneeling beside him, and they seemed to be discussing some secret plan. Peter was terrified, but Voldemort was insistent.”
“Can you remember what they said?” Sherlock asked seriously, not dismissing it as trivial.
Harry furrowed his brow, trying to recall, but soon shook his head in frustration.
“I can’t remember. Their words slipped away as soon as I woke up.”
“But my scar was burning when I woke up, like it was on fire. This happened to me in my second year, when I encountered the Basilisk. Every time an attack was about to happen, my scar would throb.”
Sherlock set down his sandwich with a grave expression, motioning for Harry to come closer. He examined the lightning-shaped scar on Harry’s forehead carefully.
“You can consider the scar’s burning as a protective mechanism. Whenever the magic that protects you senses danger, it warns you this way. However, dreaming about Voldemort is indeed unusual.”
Sherlock looked at Harry, speculating.
“Did you think about Voldemort at all during the day?”
Harry understood what Sherlock was getting at and shook his head.
“No, Aunt Petunia had me trim the garden yesterday, and I was exhausted. After talking to Mum for a while, I just fell asleep.”
Sherlock felt something was off but couldn’t pinpoint it. He rubbed his chin and turned to Silke.
“What do you think?”
Silke, her eyes concealed by a black ribbon, silently stared at Harry for a moment. Her gaze made him fidget and turn red. Finally, she spoke softly.
“Misfortune and fortune are intertwined, but misfortune is more prevalent. Be cautious for the entire year ahead.”
Harry’s mouth hung open as he listened to Silke’s words, which sounded like a prophecy but also didn’t. He was speechless for a while.
It wasn’t until Sherlock flicked his forehead that Harry, clutching his head, snapped back to reality.
“Did you hear that? Not just for the next year, but every day from now on, you need to be careful. Don’t rush into things recklessly. Think about whether the risks are worth it. If something happens to you, it’s not just about you; it’s also about your mother.”
Harry’s expression was heavy.
Sherlock’s words clearly resonated with him. He wasn’t just himself anymore; Lily’s soul was protected by the magic within him. If anything went wrong, it wouldn’t just endanger him but also the efforts Professor Forrest had made to keep his mother’s soul alive.
After finishing breakfast at Sherlock’s, Sherlock personally escorted Harry back to the Dursleys.
Although Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon’s faces were not particularly friendly, they didn’t say much to him.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
