Chapter 228: I Am Also Waiting for That Day
Chapter 228: I Am Also Waiting for That Day
When Sherlock left Hogwarts, the sun was already at its zenith.
From last night's Quidditch World Cup Final to this noon, he had hardly had a moment's rest, not even a bite to eat.
But Sherlock felt no fatigue at all, only a heavy heart as he walked through the streets of Hogsmeade.
To be honest, Selena's story was truly epic, but the current Sherlock was not the original Sherlock. He shouldn't have such direct emotions.
However, having undergone two soul fusions, even if the consciousness that had crossed over always dominated, Sherlock was no longer the detached and unburdened version of himself.
Sherlock and Sherlock were one and the same.
They had merged into a single entity. Sherlock, using the identity of the original owner in this world, had experienced another life and naturally had to shoulder the responsibilities and obligations that came with it. Moreover, he owed much of his success to the things Selena had left behind for him.
He stood in the middle of Hogsmeade's main street, looking up at the scorching sun, and instinctively squinted his eyes.
"Having someone who loves you is truly wonderful."
Then, his figure vanished from the town's streets.
The next moment, Sherlock appeared in a hidden alley in London.
He took off his wizard robe, revealing the ordinary attire he wore in the Muggle world. He quickly found a phone booth on the street, pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket, and dialed the number written on it.
After a short while, the call connected, and he spoke.
"This is Sherlock. I'm near Portobello Road and would like to meet you. Please don't let him know."
After a long silence, the old butler named Brad's slightly trembling voice responded.
"I'll be right there, Master."
After hanging up, Sherlock didn't move around. There were many shops on the street, and he sat under the awning of a café, gently caressing the wand he always used.
It didn't take long before a nondescript black car pulled up to the curb, and the impeccably dressed old man stepped out.
"Master."
Regardless of how his father treated him, the old butler always showed the utmost respect, treating Sherlock as the legitimate heir to the title.
Sherlock had never dealt with servants from one of the wealthiest and most prestigious families in the world, and he certainly didn't take advantage of the old man's respectful attitude. Instead, he invited him to sit down.
Two cups of coffee, which Sherlock couldn't tell if they were hand-ground or instant, were brought to the table. Neither of the two men had any intention of tasting them, nor the mood for it.
After a long silence, Sherlock finally asked softly.
"How is his health lately?"
The old butler's concern was genuine. Having served as the butler for three generations of the Cavendish Family, his loyalty was beyond question.
"The master's illness cannot be cured. The situation is not terrible, but it's not optimistic either. The doctors say this is the best outcome we can hope for."
Hearing the butler's words, Sherlock seemed to be thinking or hesitating about something. In the end, he decided not to interfere with his mother's plans but also not to do nothing at all.
He pulled seven bottles of clear potion from his pocket and placed them on the table.
"Grandpa Brad",
The old butler quickly said, "Just call me Brad."
Sherlock didn't dwell on the formality and continued.
"You should know that I'm a bit different from normal people."
As he spoke, he made everything on the table float gently in the air, and after two seconds, they settled back into place.
Then, the button on Brad's sleeve suddenly turned into a ladybug before reverting to its original form.
Even this simple trick left the old butler, who had seen many grand occasions with three dukes and thought nothing could surprise him, thoroughly amazed.
He had heard from Sherlock's father, the current Duke of Devonshire, that Sherlock was associating with some strange people. He always assumed that these "Wizards", as the Duke called them, were nothing more than charlatans performing tricks. He had even planned to find an opportunity to persuade the "young master" to see reason.
But today, he realized that his understanding of "Wizards" was entirely different from the real thing.
Sherlock had only shown him a simple display of magic, not even a proper spell.
The Ministry of Magic enforces the International Statute of Secrecy more strictly than any other law. Even without visible surveillance, there are always strange things around to monitor any magical activity.
Fortunately, Brad, an old man who had seen much of the world, didn't react with shock or denial. He quickly looked at Sherlock hesitantly.
"Does the master know about your abilities?"
"I'm like my mother."
Hearing this, the old butler sighed deeply. He had thought that if Sherlock showed his father this magic, their conflict might be resolved. But Sherlock's words made it clear that the Duke had always known about magic and Wizards.
"There are other hidden circumstances with my mother's situation", Sherlock said, leaving it at that. "I'm showing you this to let you know that the things I deal with are different from normal. These potions are the same. Take them with you and give him one bottle every month. While they won't cure him completely, they will greatly alleviate his condition."
Sherlock then picked up a bottle of potion containing fragments of the Philosopher's Stone and drank it right in front of Brad.
"If you have any concerns, you can try it on someone else, but don't tell him. He won't drink it if he knows. Give me your address, and I'll send you more potions when you run out via owl."
The old butler nodded solemnly. He looked at Sherlock, opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Sherlock spoke first.
"I know you want to ask if we will ever reconcile."
The old butler sighed and nodded again.
Sherlock gazed at the various passersby on the street, his eyes slightly unfocused, and a smile appeared on his face.
"I'm waiting for that day too."
(End of Chapter)
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