Hilke's hand made contact with the wooden door.
It was as if something had happened, yet also as if nothing had happened at all.
She stood there in front of the wooden door, motionless.
Sherlock released the two wands in his hands, letting them float quietly around Hilke, illuminating the area around her.
She maintained this posture for a long time. It felt as though ten minutes had passed, and her body began to tremble ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly.
She lowered her hand.
"I didn't find him..."
Her voice was low and filled with sorrow.
Sherlock clenched his fists, watching Hilke's reactions carefully. If anything seemed wrong, he would immediately take her and Apparate away from here.
"I didn't find him, I didn't find him, I didn't find him..."
She repeated sorrowfully.
Hilke crouched on the ground, clutching her head with both hands, as if trying to escape something or questioning herself.
"I didn't find him!"
Her voice suddenly turned sharp.
"I tried so many methods! Tea leaves! Crystal balls! Astrology! Arithmancy! But he is nowhere in the threads of the world, nor in the spiderwebs of fate! I cannot find him!"
She grabbed her hat and pulled it off her head, revealing the black ribbon covering her eyes and her disheveled silver-gray hair.
Hilke's delicate face was deathly pale. She huddled in the corner in fear, her body trembling incessantly, like a discarded, homeless girl.
"I didn't find him, Dad. I'm useless! I didn't fulfill my promise to you! I'm useless! I have no ability! I should have died there with you!"
It was only then that Sherlock realized she wasn't that old, at most only a few years older than him.
Tears slid from beneath her ribbon-covered eyes, tracing down her bloodless cheeks and dripping onto the ground.
Hilke fell to her knees, supporting herself with her hands. The blue-purple veins on the backs of her pale, almost translucent hands were clearly visible.
"He's gone. You said he was still here, Dad, but I can't find him. It's because I haven't worked hard enough, because I haven't done enough!"
She suddenly wanted to smash her head against the ground to punish herself, but fortunately, Sherlock hugged her just in time, stopping her act of self-harm.
Hilke struggled. Her frame was slender, but she was incredibly strong at that moment, and Sherlock almost let her break free.
"I tried! I really tried every method! But there's nothing! I can't see anything! I can't see where he is!"
She seemed to be defending herself, or perhaps stating her despair, but her face showed only fear.
"I dare not say it, Dad. I dare not voice that possibility..."
She sobbed, no longer struggling, but her body trembled violently. Sherlock held her tightly, with no other thoughts in his mind, only a surge of pity as he looked at that pale face.
It was clear that Hilke had always kept something hidden in her heart. The coldness and indifference she displayed on the surface were merely disguises to hide her own fragility.
She bit her lip, as if desperately trying to avoid something, unwilling to say it, nor wanting to make any predictions or divinations.
But in the end, she moved her bloodied, bitten lips and sobbed.
"He might really... be dead already..."
Speaking those words seemed to drain all her strength. She collapsed into Sherlock's arms, no longer trembling or resisting, as if she had fallen asleep.
The two wands continued floating quietly in the darkness, illuminating this small space.
Sherlock sat on the ground, his back against the stone wall, silently watching the pitch-black passage ahead, wondering what he was thinking.
Hilke's breathing gradually became steady as she lay in his arms, quiet as an exquisite doll.
After a long time, her fingers twitched slightly, and she lifted her head from Sherlock's chest, looking as if she were stunned for a second.
Then, she stood up as if nothing had happened.
Seeing her look as though she had just emerged from a nightmare, Sherlock gave a light cough and also stood up nonchalantly, brushing the dust off his robes.
"Are you alright now?"
Hilke pulled her wide hood back over her head, covering her face.
"What did you see?"
Her voice had returned to its usual coldness, though it sounded slightly hoarse.
Sherlock shrugged.
"What did I see? I just saw you touch that door, and then you suddenly collapsed to the ground. I couldn't lift you up no matter how hard I tried, so I was just acting as a cushion because I was afraid you'd catch a cold lying on the ground."
Anyone could tell that such a lie was fake, but some things required appropriate, mutually understood lies. Speaking the truth would only make everyone feel awkward.
He changed the subject and walked over to the wooden door, which seemed to have remained unchanged.
"So, can we go in now?"
Hilke retrieved her wand. She didn't answer Sherlock's question but instead walked to the wooden door and pushed it open with force.
"Creak~"
A long, drawn-out sound of rusty hinges rubbing together rang out.
The wooden door opened, and dust billowed up. It looked as if no one had entered here for a long time.
Just as Hilke was about to walk straight in, Sherlock grabbed her.
He released the wand he had been holding in his hand, letting it float on its own and fly into the room behind the wooden door.
The wand, with its tip glowing with light, illuminated the space inside. It was empty, as if there was nothing there at all.
"Let's go. We can go in and take a look," Sherlock said.
Hilke didn't seem surprised by Sherlock's method of controlling his wand. The ability to make a wand levitate was something every Wizard could do.
They walked into the room behind the wooden door.
Even after entering here, the Lumos Charm could still only illuminate an area of less than half a meter.
So, even after coming inside, there was no way to directly see the full view and size of the room. They could only rely on the glowing wand in their hands to inspect it little by little.
After entering, Sherlock and his companion did not notice that a creature hidden in the darkness behind the door was silently watching them...
They did not choose to separate after entering, but stayed together, carefully exploring the pitch-black space.
It was completely empty, with nothing inside, but the space was large. Sherlock and Hilke walked about twenty steps before reaching the end.
Neither of them spoke, and they began walking around the entire room along the edge of the wall.
Just as they turned a corner and shone the light beside the wooden door, they saw the creature that had been silently staring at them from the darkness the entire time!
It was a giant straw man standing in place, arranged in the shape of a cross.
Withered yellow straw filled the gaps between the tattered fabric and wooden sticks. As Sherlock and the others noticed it, two scarlet lights flickered in its face, which was wrapped in strips of torn cloth.
Its two arms, constructed from branches and held out flat, held a rusted scythe in one hand and a dilapidated kerosene lamp in the other.
The moment Hilke saw it, she waved her wand without hesitation!
"Expecto Patron..."
However, before she could finish casting her spell, a hoarse, shrill, desperate, and deathly scream suddenly rang out.
"What's going on! What happened!"
The roaring sound came from the straw man, and the dilapidated kerosene lamp it held in its left hand suddenly lit up.
But that orange light did not bring any warmth; it held only endless chill and fear.
Hilke's spellcasting was interrupted by the scream. Then, it swung its scythe and raised the kerosene lamp as it charged wildly toward them!
Sherlock grabbed Hilke's arm, pulled her to the side, and simultaneously waved his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!"
As he chanted the incantation, it let out another shrill wail.
"No! No! I'm so scared! I'm so scared!"
But Sherlock was not interrupted by it and successfully cast the Patronus Charm!
Silver brilliance lit up from the tip of his wand, but those incredibly dazzling silver threads appeared very scattered. It was clear that they were trying their best to condense into a solid form, but in the end, they could only scatter into a patch of silver light.
The atmosphere here was too oppressive. The darkness was not only eroding the light but also devouring the hope and happiness in people's hearts, making the Patronus Charm ten times harder to use than usual.
Sherlock pulled Hilke and dodged its first scythe swing. The scattered silver threads of the unformed Patronus Charm made it retreat slightly, but then it aimed at them again, raising the scythe in its hand high.
Sherlock did not hesitate and pointed his wand directly at it.
"Reducto!"
A huge roar echoed through this underground Chamber. The moment the dazzling fire burst forth, it was immediately swallowed by the endless darkness again.
Having taken a direct hit from the Explosion Charm, it remained unscathed, only being knocked back a short distance, with a few bits of straw falling from its body onto the ground.
"Are other spells useless besides the Patronus Charm?" Sherlock asked urgently.
"Useless! It only hates happiness and hope!"
Hilke flicked her wand, attempting the Patronus Charm once more.
"Expecto Patronum!"
This time, she successfully chanted the incantation, and silver threads surged again in the darkness, trying their best to weave into shape in the air.
Although it was forming slowly, it was clear that her Patronus Charm had a chance of succeeding.
Sherlock did not stand idly by. He shook all the wands he had prepared from his cloth bag, and in the darkness invisible to the eye, hundreds of wands floated quietly into place.
It clearly noticed Hilke's actions and did not charge forward anymore. Instead, it stared at her with those scarlet eyes, wailing in a hoarse, eerie voice.
"I can't find him! Dad! I can't find him!"
Hilke shuddered all over instantly. The silver threads that were condensing into shape immediately dissipated, and in the next second, they disappeared into the pitch-black darkness!