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Chapter 229: Conspiracy and Breakfast
Chapter 229: Conspiracy and Breakfast
The opulent estate was unusually gloomy at this moment.
In the single armchair, a creature that was neither human nor ghost stared coldly at the group of trembling Black-robed Wizards kneeling on the floor.
"I do not expect absolute loyalty from everyone", a calm yet bone-chilling voice echoed, "but I detest incompetence!"
"Barty Jr. is dead. Who can now take on that task for me? My friends, which of you can I trust to complete this mission?"
A Great Serpent, as thick as a barrel, coiled beside the armchair, its cold, vertical eyes scanning the surroundings with indifference.
Kneeling on the hard floor, the high-born, pure-blooded Wizards did not dare to raise their heads, each one bowing so low that they wished to bury their faces in the ground.
"Wormtail? Lucius? Evan? Kovin? Amycus? Alecto?"
He called out each name coldly, and each time, the person named shuddered, none daring to meet the gaze of the terrifying presence.
The creature in the armchair seemed to grow weary of this, falling silent. The room was filled with an oppressive silence, and everyone held their breath, fearing to disturb his thoughts.
"Who among you, aside from those in Azkaban, can I trust with both loyalty and capability?"
He was not asking anyone in the room; he quickly answered his own question.
"Barty Jr. could, but you incompetent fools failed to bring him back alive. And Regulus, but he is also dead."
"Gagson!"
He suddenly called out another name.
Among the kneeling group, a trembling Black-robed Wizard stood up. Unmasked, he was a thin man with glasses and blond hair.
"Master, my Master", Gagson stammered in response.
"I know you are not much use, but if you cannot even bring back Barty Crouch Sr., what is the point of your existence?"
Gagson first breathed a sigh of relief, then felt a renewed sense of tension. He immediately pledged loudly.
"If I cannot bring back old Barty, I am willing to become Nagini's food, without you lifting a finger, my Master!"
The cold voice ignored Gagson's solemn vow and called out another name.
"Wormtail."
A pale, short, and plump Wizard, resembling a large fat rat, crawled to the armchair.
The voice suddenly grew calm, and he said indifferently,
"Go to Northern Scandinavia and tell that person I will give him another chance."
Peter's tense body relaxed, and he praised in a fawning tone,
"He will certainly weep and beg for forgiveness at your merciful feet, my great Master."
The voice did not respond to Peter's words but looked at the still kneeling Wizards and said coldly,
"I hope from this moment on, no one disappoints me again!"
On September 1st, at the Forrest family home.
Sherlock had little to pack. He left his work items at Hogwarts and only needed a suitcase with a few changes of robes.
Silke was in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
After relentless efforts during the remainder of the summer, she finally managed to master her first big meal—a fried egg—just a week before school started.
Since then, every breakfast for Sherlock had been a routine affair: a warm glass of milk, a slightly burnt but not completely charred fried egg, and two slices of toast from the toaster.
The taste wasn't bad, and the nutrition was well-balanced, but eating it for a whole week was a bit much.
During this period, Sherlock had hinted several times that he could take over the kitchen and prepare a more substantial breakfast, such as a bowl of meat porridge or a ham and cheese sandwich.
But Silke seemed to have a deep attachment to the kitchen. After she managed to cook something edible, she firmly refused to let him in.
Fortunately, today was the last day of this routine. Sherlock didn't dwell on it too much and waited for Silke, who was now wearing an apron and exuding a homemaker's charm, to serve the milk, fried egg, and toast.
Sherlock picked up his knife and fork, spreading jam on the toast, not forgetting to ask about Silke's work plans.
"I'm heading back to Hogwarts today. When are you planning to start work?"
Silke's lips curled into a barely noticeable smile.
"I'm leaving today as well."
Sherlock didn't catch any hint of a problem and just remarked in surprise.
"What a coincidence. Are you going to stay at your workplace or come back home?"
"The workplace provides accommodation."
At this, Sherlock couldn't help but start lecturing.
"Even though you're a grown woman now and have been living on your own for a while, you should still be careful. Try not to eat the food you cook; I can handle a few bites, but you might not be able to keep up with it. Also, be friendly with your colleagues, but don't let anyone bully you. If anything happens, write to me. I'll mostly be at Hogwarts and won't go anywhere."
As Sherlock started his lecture, Silke's beautiful eyebrows involuntarily furrowed, but she didn't say much, silently cutting the fried egg that didn't even need cutting.
Sherlock, of course, knew that Silke didn't like his nagging, but as an "elder", he felt it was his duty to say more. In his heart, Silke and Amy, though different, were both troublesome children who couldn't help but worry about.
After nagging for about ten minutes, they finished their breakfast.
Sherlock put on his wizard robes, picked up his suitcase, and said goodbye to Silke before Apparating away from home.
After he left, Silke propped her chin on her hand and stared at a simple Muggle photograph hanging on the wall.
The photograph showed two adults and a child, each with a different smile, creating a rather amusing combination.
A gentle smile appeared on her face, and she got up to clear the dishes and utensils from the table. She seemed in a good mood, even humming a tune she had heard somewhere.
After finishing all the housework and cleaning up, Silke entered her room and took out a teaching tool that she had hidden from Sherlock all summer long.
(End of Chapter)
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