Chapter 417: I Like You
Chapter 417: I Like You
"So, what can we do?"
In the office, the Prime Minister cautiously asked the middle-aged man with a lion-like appearance sitting across from him.
Last year, this man suddenly appeared in his office, introducing himself as the new Minister of the Ministry of Magic. He said that in the early days of his term, he needed to meet the Muggle Prime Minister to facilitate future cooperation.
The Prime Minister was not unfamiliar with the existence of Wizards. A few years ago, a Wizard named Fudge had come to him, and it was then that he learned about the Wizarding World.
Not long after, Fudge brought this Wizard named Scrimgeour to meet him, informing him that the new Minister who would take over the position was this man.
Just a moment ago, the Minister of Magic had come to explain the incident this morning where a large number of brooms, with people riding on them, were seen flying over England.
He said that the Wizarding World was in the midst of a war, with a violent terrorist who could not be named attempting to overthrow the existing magical government.
Currently, the Ministry of Magic's security forces were engaged in battle with these terrorists, and they had also prepared the Prime Minister for the worst.
If they won the battle, everything would be fine. But if they lost, the entire power of the Wizarding World would fall into the hands of the terrorist leader, who was extremely hostile towards Muggles, or ordinary people.
Understanding the principle of mutual dependence, the Prime Minister knew that if the Wizards were to fall, the Muggles would be in grave danger. Wizards like Fudge and Scrimgeour, who had been in their positions for a long time, had only met him once when they took office. Apart from that, they only asked for his cooperation in matters like apprehending criminals.
They had little interest in the Muggle world, but with a violent terrorist in charge, no one could predict what the future would hold.
Scrimgeour was restless.
If it were any other time, he would be leading the Aurors into battle, charging at the front lines. But now, he was stuck in the Muggle Prime Minister's office, waiting for the outcome and preparing for the worst.
"We don't need to do anything; we just need to wait for the result."
Time ticked by, and the black tea on the desk had grown cold, but no one felt like drinking it.
Just as the oppressive atmosphere continued, the ornamental fireplace in the Prime Minister's office suddenly burst into a green flame.
A man with earrings burst in, exclaiming excitedly,
"Minister, the Dark Lord is dead, we've won!"
Scrimgeour was stunned by the news.
While he had considered the possibility, the chances of such an outcome were incredibly low. The best he had hoped for was that Voldemort would be driven back, and the Death Eaters would be severely weakened.
But now, Voldemort was dead?
"Who died?"
"The Dark Lord! Minister, it's the Dark Lord! Sherlock killed him in front of everyone; his body exploded!"
Kingsley, in his excitement, was almost incoherent, but he tried his best to describe the scene to Scrimgeour.
Scrimgeour finally snapped out of his stupor, his already tousled hair standing on end with excitement.
"Prime Minister, this is the best outcome we could have hoped for! You don't need to worry about this anymore. I need to get back to the Ministry as soon as possible!"
Scrimgeour eagerly drew out his wand. Just as he was about to Apparate away, he didn't forget to remind the Prime Minister, who still seemed bewildered by what had happened.
"Almost forgot to mention, the Wizarding World is likely to have many victory celebrations. These events might catch the attention of some Muggles, which, of course, is illegal. The Ministry will send people to try and stop them, but I thought I'd give you a heads-up."
With that, his entire figure twisted for a moment, and then he vanished from the office.
As Scrimgeour had predicted, the news of the battle's outcome quickly spread throughout the Wizarding World.
Even before the Daily Prophet had a chance to publish an urgent edition, Diagon Alley was already bursting with spontaneous celebrations.
The candy shop owner announced that all candies were free for the day. Old Tom at the Leaky Cauldron waived the tab for every customer in the bar. Even Ollivanders Wand Shop offered three days of free wand repairs.
The goblins at Gringotts remained as tight-fisted as ever, but it was clear that each of their faces was lit up with a smile.
In bars across the Wizarding World, toasts were being made almost constantly, and everyone was saying the same thing.
"To Professor Forrest!"
While the Wizards were celebrating, Sherlock politely declined the Aurors' and Order of the Phoenix members' invitations to join the celebration parties. He handed all the follow-up work to Dumbledore and quietly left the battlefield, where everyone was cheering for his deeds, without disturbing anyone.
His hasty departure wasn't because he had other important matters to attend to. With Voldemort dead, Dumbledore would naturally take care of everything.
It was because, when he saw Silke, he was surprised to ask why she was there. She softly replied,
"I made cookies and came to your office, but you weren't there."
Sherlock stared at her, then a gentle smile spread across his face.
"Let's eat them now; they'll still taste great."
Then they returned to Hogwarts together.
While the entire Wizarding World was in a festive mood, the two of them sat in Silke's office, enjoying the still warm cookies.
The sunset outside the window illuminated the office, casting a soft, gauzy light across the entire room.
Sherlock kept talking to Silke about Draco's embarrassing ordeal at the orphanage, where a little girl had tricked him, until he suddenly paused and said,
"Now that all the Death Eaters have been captured and Voldemort is dead, there are still some lingering issues, but Dumbledore and I have plans. The days ahead will be much more peaceful."
Silke tilted her head, looking at him with a puzzled expression. Sherlock rarely spoke in such a hesitant manner.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you'll still be a professor at Hogwarts, and I won't be going anywhere. I'll continue working in this castle, and life won't change much. Teaching students is hard work, but it's also fulfilling and interesting."
Sherlock wasn't sure what he was saying. He felt tense, his gaze drifting to the sunset outside.
Then he took a deep breath and turned to look into Silke's clear eyes.
"What I really mean is, I like you, Vera."
(End of Chapter)
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