Chapter 374: The Investiture Ceremony
Chapter 374: The Investiture Ceremony
Sherlock didn’t go anywhere else; he waited on the terrace in the courtyard outside the house.
Apart from worrying about Silke’s condition, he was also thinking about Dumbledore.
From the hurried way Dumbledore left the Ministry of Magic yesterday, it was clear that he had something important to attend to.
The only thing that could have him so preoccupied now would be Voldemort’s Horcruxes.
At today’s investiture ceremony, Sherlock planned to ask Dumbledore about the situation.
Ever since the incident where it seemed like he had driven Voldemort to flee, but in reality, he had barely escaped with his life, Sherlock’s sense of urgency to strengthen his power had grown stronger.
The study of magic is, of course, endless, but the only way to quickly and without side effects enhance one's power is to find Voldemort’s Horcruxes and merge them with his own soul.
Sherlock sat on the terrace, waiting all morning. By noon, there was finally some movement inside the house.
Mrs. Matthews came out, leading Silke.
They looked no different from when they had gone in, and Silke’s eyes were still covered with the black silk ribbon.
Sherlock’s heart sank, and he hurried forward.
Before he could ask, Mrs. Matthews waved her hand, looking a bit tired.
“You don’t have to look so glum. I’ve already helped remove the Time Dust from the girl’s eyes. However, her eyes are still affected and are not suitable for direct vision yet, so she needs to keep them covered for a while longer.”
Sherlock’s heart immediately relaxed. He looked at Silke, who, having lost the ability to see even when her eyes were covered, was led out by Mrs. Matthews.
He took Silke’s hand and asked softly,
“How are you feeling?”
“Nothing serious, but I can’t join you at the investiture ceremony later,” Silke’s voice was light but tinged with a hint of regret.
Sherlock, however, smiled.
“What’s the point of that ceremony at the Ministry of Magic, which is just to make me look good? If you want to see it, I’ll hang the medal in the living room, and you can look at it every day once you can open your eyes.”
Mrs. Matthews, watching the two young people talk, felt a bit nauseated and tapped her cane.
“Now that the matter is settled, don’t linger in my house! Do you expect me to feed you lunch?”
Sherlock, who had always been grateful to the quirky old witch who had helped them from start to finish, kept his demeanor humble.
“Thank you very much for your help, Mrs. Matthews. If you ever need anything from me, feel free to ask. We won’t disturb you today.”
Just as he was about to leave with Silke, Mrs. Matthews called out to him again.
“This is the Time Dust we extracted from the girl’s eyes. You brought it, so you should take it with you.”
She threw a transparent potion bottle at him. Inside, instead of a potion, were floating specks of golden “grain.”
Sherlock caught the bottle steadily. He looked at the Time Dust that had been hidden in Silke’s eyes and asked, somewhat puzzled,
“Is there any use for this?”
“You can pour it on an object you want to understand. It will show you the object’s history from the time it was created until now. Don’t use it all at once; use one-third of it each time, and you can use it three times in total.”
Sherlock stared at the bottle of Time Dust. From Mrs. Matthews’ words, he understood that its effect was essentially a simplified version of what Silke’s eyes had been able to do.
Turning into a consumable, though it could only be used three times, it still played a significant role in certain situations.
Afterward, Sherlock first sent Silke back home, and they had lunch together. Then, he used Apparition to arrive at the site of today's Order of Merlin award ceremony.
For the entire Wizarding World, Sherlock receiving the Order of Merlin, First Class, was a major event.
Because this medal was proof that Voldemort was not invincible. As long as Sherlock lived, everyone would remember the moment he stabbed a knife into Voldemort's chest.
Unless Voldemort killed him with his own hands, his tarnished reputation could not be salvaged.
The location for the award ceremony was not at the Ministry of Magic but in a vast Great Hall hidden in the heart of London.
This place served as the permanent base of the Order of Merlin and the venue for each award ceremony. Whenever a new wizard received a medal, the majority of the medal holders would attend the banquet.
Among the attendees were high-ranking officials from the Ministry of Magic, members of pure-blood families, renowned healers from St. Mungo's, wizards like Dumbledore who were famous for their contributions, and individuals who had made significant contributions in various fields.
Such a grand event naturally attracted a large number of journalists.
In the British magical community's news industry, while the Daily Prophet held the most authoritative voice, there were also other newspapers and weekly publications, such as The Quibbler.
In fact, Sherlock was already late, having received a reminder by owl post before he left home.
When he arrived at the banquet venue, almost everyone else had already gathered.
Even Dumbledore, who looked rushed the previous day, was now dressed in a formal dark green robe, chatting and laughing with a middle-aged witch who looked like a noblewoman.
Next came a series of formalities: the Order of Merlin read out Sherlock's achievements, awarded him the First Class medal, and he gave a few words of gratitude. The rest of the time was dedicated to the banquet.
As Sherlock walked down from the stage with the medal pinned to his chest, several reporters from magical newspapers swarmed him, eager to interview him for exclusive stories.
But he managed to brush them off with polite evasions. He then found Dumbledore in a corner of the banquet hall.
The reporters, seeing Sherlock and Dumbledore together, did not push forward rudely.
Everyone knew that as long as nothing unexpected happened to Sherlock, he would inevitably become the next Dumbledore. However, from his current character and temperament, he would not be another Dumbledore.
"You, such a young recipient of the First Class Order of Merlin, must have broken the record for the youngest ever recipient", Dumbledore congratulated Sherlock with a smile.
Sherlock shrugged.
"You know, Professor, I would rather not have this attention-grabbing honor. Have you finished with yesterday's business?"
When the topic turned serious, Dumbledore's smile faded.
"I have recovered the memory of House-elf Hokey."
(End of Chapter)
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