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Chapter 349: The News Spreads
Chapter 349: The News Spreads
June 25, 1995.
This was destined to be a day that would be recorded in the history of magic.
The Daily Prophet on the morning of that day was delivered to the homes of various wizards two hours later than usual.
When the wizards, muttering about what was happening today, picked up the newspaper, they were all stunned, and then pale-faced, they screamed their family members' names, urging them to come and see today's newspaper.
The Dark Lord had returned!
This was a fact that could no longer be denied by any excuse. At the scene last night, including Dumbledore, Scrimgeour, Fudge, and nearly a hundred Aurors, all witnessed the resurrected Voldemort.
After Voldemort was severely injured and fled, the newly reformed Death Eaters scattered, and the Aurors managed to capture many of them. Most of these individuals, who had criminal records as followers of the Dark Lord, confessed under interrogation.
They had always been fence-sitters and had no resolve to keep Voldemort's secrets.
Even Fudge, who had consistently denied the matter, finally fell silent.
After all, with his return to the Ministry of Magic, he no longer had the energy to argue about this already established fact. The chain reactions within the Ministry of Magic in the days to come would be enough to keep him busy for a while.
The words spoken by Crouch had already caused panic among the wizards of the Wizarding World, even when most people were still skeptical.
Now that the matter had become a reality, every British wizard was greatly shaken.
On the 25th, countless owls flew to the Ministry of Magic. Some wanted official confirmation of the Dark Lord's return, while others sought to know if the Ministry of Magic had the capability to resist the Dark Lord.
But before these letters to the Ministry of Magic received any response,
The second edition of the Daily Prophet, a special issue, was delivered to the hands of wizards in the afternoon of the 25th.
The front page of this special issue featured a large magic photograph taking up two-thirds of the page.
In the black-and-white photograph, Sherlock held a long blade high, with a fierce and determined expression, and without hesitation, pierced the chest of the non-human, non-ghost creature on the ground!
During the operation that night, Dumbledore and the others had no time to bring any reporters. This photograph was extracted from the memory of an Auror who witnessed the scene and was then processed into a photograph using special means.
The caption below the photograph naturally described the entire process of the operation.
It detailed how Dumbledore had long suspected the Dark Lord's resurrection plot and had laid a plan with the Defence Professor. It also praised the Ministry of Magic, as regardless of whether Fudge had acted voluntarily, Scrimgeour, as the head of the Auror Office, had indeed led the Aurors in the operation.
The rest of the article focused almost entirely on Sherlock.
It told the story of how he had transformed into Harry, outmaneuvered the Dark Lord for a long time, and, before Dumbledore and reinforcements arrived, managed to severely wound the Dark Lord and nearly killed the newly resurrected Dark Lord.
This made Sherlock a hero in the eyes of the British wizarding public, and their affection for him surged.
Previously, they only knew that he was the youngest Defence Professor in Hogwarts' history to serve for more than two school years, and that he had helped the school through the ordeal of the Chamber of Secrets.
Now, the significant blow he dealt to Voldemort has truly made him a household name.
This is also the result of the Ministry of Magic's deliberate efforts.
After all, Voldemort's return would cause immense panic among the Wizards who have enjoyed over a decade of peace. Therefore, it is essential to boost public confidence through some successes.
Sherlock's performance that night perfectly matched the image of a hero who could lead the Wizarding World through this crisis.
Dumbledore, the former spiritual pillar of the British magical community, is now in his twilight years. The boy who lived, the one prophesied to be the only one capable of defeating the Dark Lord, is still just a child, a month away from turning fifteen.
In this period of severe shortage of talent in the entire Wizarding World, the heroic deeds of Sherlock have made him the sole pillar of support.
Countless Wizards began writing to the Ministry of Magic, urging them to quickly honor the young man who stepped forward in the hour of crisis. The repercussions from the Crouch incident have been completely erased.
Even if no one wrote letters, the Ministry of Magic would not be foolish enough to show no appreciation.
Currently, the Order of Merlin is discussing the date to award him a medal, and the medal can only be of the highest rank.
While the entire Wizarding World is in turmoil,
Sherlock, lying in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, has just opened his eyes.
The warm evening sunlight filtered through the window, casting a golden glow into the room, causing Sherlock, whose mind was still in a daze, to feel a wave of dizziness.
He instinctively squinted his eyes and then saw the figure on the adjacent bed, silhouetted beautifully by the orange light.
Silke, dressed in a hospital gown with her eyes wrapped in thick white bandages, was silently peeling an apple on the other bed. Even with her eyes covered, it seemed to have no effect on her vision. The apple peel was coming off in one continuous strip, without a single break.
Sherlock stared at Silke's beautiful figure, lost in thought for nearly a minute before he suddenly snapped back to reality.
He abruptly sat up in bed.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"Less than a day and a night", she replied, still diligently peeling the apple, showing no surprise at Sherlock's sudden question.
Clearly, Silke had known he was awake the moment he opened his eyes.
Sherlock quickly ran his hands over his body, checking to ensure no parts were missing, and let out a slight sigh of relief once he confirmed he was intact, avoiding a fate like Mad-Eye Moody.
Then, he blinked and turned to look at Silke, who had finished peeling the apple and was now holding it out to him.
Naturally, Sherlock took the apple.
But he didn't eat it right away. Instead, he stared at Silke's bandaged eyes, lost in thought.
Sherlock was well aware of the abilities of her eyes, so he didn't need to ask, and she didn't need to explain.
No words were exchanged, but the simple act of passing and receiving the apple conveyed all the questions and answers, all the unspoken sentiments.
(End of Chapter)
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