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Chapter 213: Do You Want to Be My Sister?
Chapter 213: Do You Want to Be My Sister?
The Auror who had just used a Memory Charm on Roberts still looked flustered.
He was wearing a pair of wide, loose pants and immediately spotted Sherlock.
"It's actually Sherlock, mate! Good heavens! You actually have the time to watch a match!" The wizard in the loose pants looked shocked, but then he seemed to remember something. "Oh, right, you're teaching at Hogwarts now. Kingsley said you've changed a lot since becoming a teacher, not as reclusive as before."
Hearing this, Silke gave Sherlock a puzzled look.
Sherlock didn't notice Silke's gaze. He was sizing up the wizard in the loose pants, clearly a former colleague, but he had no memory of him. He could only vaguely say,
"I had some free time today, so I came over with my niece and nephew."
Only then did the wizard in the loose pants notice Silke standing beside Sherlock. His eyes widened in admiration, and he whistled in surprise.
"Who would have thought! I figured you'd spend your life with magic books. Well done, you!"
Sherlock shook his head, feeling a headache coming on.
"It's not like that."
Before he could explain further, the wizard in the loose pants cut him off.
"Sorry, mate, I don't have time to chat right now. Things are too busy. You saw what happened with that Muggle. The side effects of the Memory Charm are too severe. I need to find some Joy Potion for him, or he'll become depressed soon. We'll catch up next time."
With that, he hurried off to find the potion for Roberts.
Sherlock shrugged, not particularly bothered by his former colleague's brusque manner.
Roberts, who had returned to his normal self as if nothing had happened, found the change and calmly pointed them in the right direction.
"Your campsite is at the very back, and your tent is there too."
Sherlock gave the Muggle a sympathetic look, took the change, and set off into the misty forest with Silke, who was carrying a travel bag.
They passed through the white mist, and the scenery suddenly opened up into a clearing.
Tents were set up everywhere, and wizards of all kinds were moving about the camp. There was an African wizard in a white robe roasting a rabbit, a group of American wizards gathered around a shiny flag, chatting and laughing, and a few Asian wizards with headscarves sitting on a picnic blanket, playing cards.
Seeing all these people, Sherlock felt as if at least half the world's wizards had gathered here.
A little girl on a toy broomstick, still learning to fly, crashed into Silke, fell off her broom, and landed on her bottom.
Silke helped her up. Perhaps because of her naturally friendly appearance, the little girl, missing a front tooth and speaking with a lisp, wasn't shy and thanked Silke openly.
Her mother then grabbed her by the ear, scolding her as she dragged her away, but not before giving Sherlock and Silke an apologetic smile.
Sherlock watched Silke, who had a smile playing on her lips, and asked with a warm expression,
"How do you like it here?"
"It's nice", she replied, her hand somehow finding its way to Sherlock's arm.
Sherlock didn't notice, and he continued on, feeling quite content.
"Feeling good? If there are more events like this in the future, you should come out and play more. Staying at home all the time thinking about divination and prophecies can make you antisocial."
"Was Sherlock like that before?"
She had taken note of the conversation between the Pants Wizard and Sherlock, learning that Sherlock's personality seemed to have been different in the past.
Sherlock tilted his head, thinking.
"Indeed, I didn't used to enjoy interacting with others much. But after some events, I started talking more and realized that it's not good to avoid people all the time. By the way, what job are you looking for? You've been avoiding my questions."
Hearing his question, a charming smile involuntarily spread across Silke's face.
"It's a secret."
"Let me make this clear, any job is fine, just don't end up like your old man, working as an Auror at the Ministry of Magic."
"I don't like the Ministry of Magic."
"That's good. Normal people don't have a good opinion of politicians, but there are still some decent people there, like this one."
As they talked, they had already reached their designated campsite. Mr. Weasley, who was stubbornly refusing to use magic and instead trying to light a fire with a lighter, happened to look up and saw Sherlock.
"Hey! You came at the perfect time, Sherlock! We're just getting ready to make lunch!"
But when he saw Silke, who was holding Sherlock's arm, he was completely stunned.
His mouth opened wide enough to fit a Bludger, his eyes bulged like two cow's eyes, and the lighter in his hand fell to the ground without him even noticing.
Sherlock was also taken aback by Mr. Weasley's shock. They stared at each other, and just as Sherlock was about to speak, he heard a trembling shout from Mr. Weasley.
"Molly! Come out! Hurry up, Molly!"
Mrs. Weasley, who was inside the tent preparing ingredients, hadn't even emerged, but her angry voice already rang out.
"What are you making a fuss about now! Stop obsessing over how to use that lighter! If you don't get the fire started, we won't have any lunch!"
"No, no, no! Come out quickly!"
Soon, the plump Mrs. Weasley emerged from the tent, her face full of displeasure, in response to Mr. Weasley's repeated calls.
She saw the intact wood and was about to glare at Mr. Weasley, but then she noticed Sherlock and Silke standing nearby.
Seeing the delicate, pale fingers gripping Sherlock's arm, Mrs. Weasley froze, as if she had been hit by a petrification charm.
Realizing the cause of their shock, Sherlock reluctantly freed his arm from Silke's grip and pulled her in front of him, introducing her to Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley.
"This is Vera Silke, my friend and neighbor. My relationship with her father is quite good, and I've always treated her like a younger sister."
After hearing Sherlock's introduction, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley exchanged glances, while Silke, frowning with her fine, beautiful brows, reiterated a statement she had made countless times before.
"I'm a year older than you."
"I know, I know, you're a year older than me, but what does that matter? Do you want to be my older sister?"
(End of Chapter)
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