Chapter 327: Embrace
Chapter 327: Embrace
Sherlock stopped in the act of pushing open the door when he heard Silke's words.
He stared at the girl, whose breathing was noticeably more rapid than usual, sensing that she must have seen something troubling.
Sherlock sighed softly and pulled Silke into his office, closing the door firmly behind them.
"Tell me, what did you see?"
"You're going to be in trouble", Silke said, her expression uneasy. "If you go through with what you plan to do, you'll be in great danger!"
Sherlock sat down in his chair and gestured for another chair to move behind Silke, inviting her to sit as well.
He gazed at her quietly, deep in thought, as if organizing his words.
"I know your predictions have always been accurate, Vera. But I've always felt that predictions themselves can influence the future."
Silke, who knew Sherlock very well, understood immediately that he was about to try to persuade her with carefully chosen words.
Just as she was about to speak, Sherlock interrupted her.
"I understand you're concerned for my safety. While I have no talent for prophecy and am a complete novice, I did research a lot of materials on prophecies when I worked in the Department of Mysteries at the British Ministry of Magic."
"Throughout history, Seers have had two interpretations of the future. One is determinism, which holds that no matter what happens afterward, even if a prophecy that can be changed is revealed, the final outcome remains the same."
"The other is causality, which suggests that because someone divined this prophecy and spoke it, the people in the prophecy try to change the future, leading to the prophecy's fulfillment."
"Let's set aside which interpretation is more valid. According to either determinism or causality, when you divined this prophecy, the future could take three possible paths."
"According to determinism, no matter what I do, I will still face this danger. According to causality, by telling me the prophecy, I might avoid the action, but inadvertently end up doing it, resulting in danger. On the other hand, if I ignore the prophecy's warning and proceed, I might remain unharmed."
Sherlock spoke calmly and persuasively.
"So, considering these three possibilities, if I continue with my original plan and you pretend you never divined this prophecy, my safety will be best assured."
Silke didn't interrupt him while he spoke, and even after he finished, she continued to stare at him silently.
Sherlock began to sweat, wondering if his words had sounded too much like a con when he saw her expression. Finally, Silke spoke.
"Before you came to me, you already knew the risks were high. Why are you still going through with it?"
Sherlock scratched his head, a sheepish smile appearing on his face, one he only showed to Silke.
"Because no one is better suited for this task. Besides, your prophecy only said there would be danger, not that it's certain to happen..."
Before Sherlock could finish his last word, Silke leaned forward and suddenly embraced him!
Sherlock was suddenly at a loss for words. At first, he showed a look of utter shock, his limbs unsure of where to go, just like in the past.
But he quickly regained his composure and looked down at Silke's soft, ash-silver hair. The stiffness on his face gave way to a gentle smile.
He ran one hand through her hair while the other wrapped around her slender waist, feeling the warmth and softness of her body.
"I told you not to speak rashly."
Silke's voice was muffled, her face buried in Sherlock's chest. There was no trace of her usual coldness and calm, and if you listened closely, you could hear the slight tremor in her voice.
Sherlock stroked her head and spoke softly.
"I was expressing my confidence. How can that be speaking rashly?"
"Do you really have to go?"
"Someone has to do it, and I am the most suitable."
Silke remained silent, buried in Sherlock's embrace. She didn't speak again until a long while later.
"I should have known. You have your own principles. If you could really listen to me, then you wouldn't be Sherlock."
"You're different now."
Sherlock blinked, still playful even in this moment.
"Have I become more handsome?"
His joke didn't make Silke laugh. Instead, she tightened her arms around him and buried her head deeper into his chest.
...
At the British Ministry of Magic, in the Minister's office.
Compared to a few days ago, Fudge's condition could be described as utterly terrible. His complexion was poor, with dark circles under his eyes, indicating he hadn't had a good night's sleep for several nights.
Due to Dumbledore's statements, he received daily howlers from the public, each one angrily demanding why he had chosen to lie and cover up the truth.
Fudge, of course, didn't open these magical letters. He left them for his new secretary to handle while he waited in his office for news from another source.
The Minister did not yet feel that he had reached the point of surrender.
He still firmly believed that the so-called return of Voldemort was an absurd lie, a play orchestrated by Dumbledore, Crouch, and that ridiculous young professor to oust him from his position of power.
As long as their claims were false, there had to be a flaw, and Fudge was determined to find it.
He had been waiting for three days, and the public pressure was mounting.
While the Ministry remained relatively stable, in society, there were increasing calls for his resignation or for him to come up with a way to prevent Voldemort's return.
This made Fudge incredibly agitated, and he naturally attributed the growing calls for his resignation to Dumbledore, believing he was orchestrating everything from behind the scenes.
Just as he was anxiously waiting in his office today, a knock sounded at the door.
Fudge's spirits immediately lifted.
"Come in."
The door opened, and a middle-aged witch entered. She was slender, wearing a well-fitted dark green robe, and looked very efficient.
(End of Chapter)
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