Chapter 427: She Is My Most Beautiful World
Chapter 427: She Is My Most Beautiful World
Sherlock looked at the witch who was nothing like the deranged and neurotic figure in the portrait, and a wave of sadness and sorrow welled up in his heart.
He knew that this was not Selena's soul, just as the fragment of Lily's soul he had helped to capture was not. Selena was now in a state of illusion.
Moreover, she had long been bound to Voldemort's main soul. Voldemort's relentless desire to remove her stemmed from the significant influence between the two souls.
Now that Voldemort's main soul was completely dead, Selena's fragment would inevitably vanish as well.
This was something no one could prevent, not even Sherlock in his current state.
As if sensing Sherlock's emotions, Selena patted his shoulder comfortingly.
"I died over a decade ago, so there's no need for you to feel sad, Sherlock. However, if you can, would you do me a favor?"
Sherlock looked up, meeting the eyes of the gentle and elegant witch.
"Of course, what do you need?"
"I feel most guilty towards my husband. I selfishly erased his memory to ensure his safety. I hope you can remove the Memory Charm from my husband. There's no danger now, and I don't want him to live a lie. He deserves to know what kind of deceiver his wife was."
As she spoke, Selena's body grew increasingly transparent, until Sherlock nodded solemnly, making a promise to her. By then, her form had become so ethereal that it was barely visible.
Finally, before leaving this world, she smiled at Sherlock and waved goodbye.
It was as if she was bidding farewell to him, and to Dumbledore, Snape, and Professor Mcgonagall, who stood behind him.
Apart from Sherlock, Dumbledore and the others had neither heard nor seen Selena's presence.
Once Sherlock's expression had calmed, Professor Mcgonagall looked at him with concern.
"So, what's the situation now, Sherlock?"
Sherlock turned to face Dumbledore, Snape, and Professor Mcgonagall, who were all watching him intently, and took a deep breath.
"The situation is that—"
Unbeknownst to them, it was already morning.
The spring sun rose from the horizon, its warm rays piercing through the mountains and illuminating Hogwarts Castle. The sunlight also filtered through the dormitory window, shining on Sherlock's face, which broke into a smile more radiant than the rising sun.
"There will be no more Voldemort!"
The events that transpired in Harry's dormitory, far more perilous than the Wizard battle that afternoon, were decided by Sherlock and Dumbledore to remain a secret.
Few knew about the existence of Horcruxes, and Voldemort's dramatic demise in front of so many witnesses was enough to convince the entire Wizarding World that the Dark Lord, who had haunted them for nearly half a century, was truly and irrevocably dead.
Originally known to the vast majority of Wizards, Sherlock had become a household name over the past few days.
He had fully taken over Dumbledore's influence in the Wizarding World, and even surpassed him. After all, at the peak of his reputation, he was only in his twenties.
Many Wizard organizations extended invitations to Sherlock, with countless owls flying to his office every day.
The Ministry of Magic offered him the position of Honorary Minister for Life, the Wizengamot invited him to be the Deputy Supreme Magician, a position reserved for the next Chief Magician. The International Confederation of Wizards invited him to join as Vice President, and countless other invitations followed.
But not a single one received a response.
No matter which organization sent the letters, they were all blocked by a crow named Fidelius, who faithfully guarded the door to Sherlock’s office day and night.
The man who had achieved such a historic feat, causing the entire Wizarding World to celebrate and erupt in jubilation, had not set foot outside Hogwarts Castle since the day Voldemort died.
He continued to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts to the students with the same calm demeanor as always, or, during his free time, went fishing and picnicking by the Black Lake with a certain Arithmancy professor.
No matter how the outside world changed, it seemed to have no effect on him.
Until a week after the events, in a top-tier rehabilitation center in London.
Sherlock held Silke's hand as they sat by the bed of the elderly Duke of Devonshire.
His condition was beyond saving, and even in the Wizarding World, there was no way to extend his life.
“I don’t blame her.”
The emaciated Duke of Devonshire’s face showed no pain or resentment, only a peaceful tranquility.
“When I was with your mother, I knew what kind of person she was. I loved her, and she loved me. Even though she always told me she wasn’t a suitable wife, she was always the person I loved the most, wasn’t she?”
The old man smiled and turned his gaze to the tightly clasped hands of Sherlock and Silke.
“The bond between us is like the bond between you and this girl. It’s because of each other that we have this beautiful world.”
Sherlock turned to look at Silke, and Silke looked at him at the same time.
They smiled at each other, and Sherlock cupped Silke’s face, their foreheads gently touching.
“She is my most beautiful world.”
(End of Chapter)
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