Hilke's trust in Sherlock was unreserved; even as he used a notorious Dark alchemical item right in front of her, she didn't ask any questions.
But even if she didn't ask, Sherlock couldn't leave her without an explanation.
"This is something I scavenged from that woman Bella's family vault; I've almost emptied that entire vault. I'm using it now because I've discovered someone."
He didn't turn his head, merely pointing his right hand, hidden in front of him, towards the empty space beside Winky.
Hilke immediately understood what Sherlock meant.
When they first met, it was because he knew a type of magic that could see through an invisibility cloak.
Now, he had clearly discovered something in that position.
"Is it a Death Eater?" Hilke asked, her lips moving almost imperceptibly.
Sherlock didn't tell her exactly who it was, only nodding with a cold expression.
"An old friend, I suppose. I'm going to catch up with him."
The match on the field had reached a fever pitch. The Irish Team's offence was fierce, scoring with the Quaffle and pulling far ahead of the Bulgarian team.
At this moment, Sherlock naturally had no mood to dwell on his failed prediction; the scales of victory in this match were clearly tipping heavily towards the Irish Team.
His attention remained focused on Barty.
From beginning to end, Barty made no movement, staring blankly at the pitch as if watching a dull puppet show.
The match eventually ended with a victory for the Irish Team, but the Bulgarian team's loss was not unsightly; the only Bulgarian team Seeker Sherlock knew—Viktor Krum—finally caught the Golden Snitch.
But the huge score gap still didn't allow them to achieve the final victory, and the score was frozen at Irish Team 170: Bulgarian team 160.
Harry and Ron were ecstatic; everyone else thought they were happy because the Irish Team had won the championship, but only Hermione, who was also very excited, knew the inside story.
After the match ended, the players from both teams came to the top box to meet and shake hands with the two Ministers for Magic, while Fudge presented the awards to the Irish Team players.
The Irish national anthem echoed throughout the stadium; the Leprechauns glided excitedly through the sky, scattering handfuls of gold coins, while the Bulgarian mascots, those Veela, looked dejected.
Winky left the top box immediately after the match ended, and Sherlock could clearly feel that Barty was also taken away by the House-elf.
He didn't follow immediately; through his connection with the Hand of Glory, he could sense where Barty went no matter where he ran, and now Sherlock was prepared to play the long game.
Just one Barty Crouch Jr. could not satisfy his appetite; he vaguely felt that things were far from being that simple.
This trip to the Quidditch World Cup was naturally a happy occasion for Harry.
Not only did his favourite team win the championship, but they also earned a substantial amount of prize money.
As the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Bagman naturally had no intention of reneging on the debt, but he was extremely surprised by their good luck, even wondering if they had drunk a bottle of the precious potion called Felix Felicis.
George and Fred were also fully rewarded; although they didn't bet on the score, they correctly gambled on the Bulgarian team catching the Golden Snitch but the Irish Team winning the match.
On the way back, Mr Weasley specifically pleaded with them not to tell their mother about the gambling when they got back, or none of them would have an easy time.
The Weasley Twins certainly wouldn't do something so brainless; they were happily discussing using the winnings to launch a great plan.
Harry and the others were still discussing the match with Charlie and Bill, with various professional Quidditch terms constantly popping out of their mouths; Sherlock could clearly understand every word, yet he didn't know what terms like 'Wronski Feint' actually meant.
However, he was in no mood to figure those out now.
Under the perception of the Hand of Glory, Barty had not left this forest; he was standing still in a corner of the wizarding campsite, which seemed to be where he was stationed.
Hilke walked beside Sherlock; since leaving the stadium, she had been looking up at the starry sky.
Halfway to the camp, she suddenly stared at a star and said,
"Tonight will not be peaceful."
Sherlock paused; Hilke's prophecy immediately made him think of the Barty he had just discovered. He narrowed his eyes and then gave Hilke an instruction.
"If any accident occurs, leave with the Weasley family."
Hilke pursed her lips and said nothing, just continuing to walk forwards in silence.
Sherlock looked at her back and helplessly quickened his pace to keep up with her.
"Be good, all right? You know my strength; normally, I wouldn't..."
"Shut up!" Rarely, Hilke rudely interrupted Sherlock's words.
Sherlock wasn't angry; he just met her gaze hidden beneath the ribbon and finally sighed while stroking her hair.
"No matter what, you must ensure your safety. I promised Eddie that I would at least take good care of you."
This time, Hilke didn't pull her head away from Sherlock's hand; she just looked at him silently.
"You can't always treat me like a child."
After saying that, she turned around and quickened her pace towards the tent, her steps fast, and her two hands tightly clenched into fists, trembling slightly from the force.
Sherlock looked at her back with a sense of loss as her silver-grey hair was brushed by the evening breeze; in his sight, that body holding a pinwheel in one hand and a lollipop in the other slowly overlapped with her.
He looked at the bright white moon and murmured to himself,
"How could I not treat you as that Amy who didn't know how to smile or play and needed someone to protect her?"
Saying this, he shook his head with a bitter smile.
"People are just sentimental."
He didn't know if he was mocking himself or someone else. Then he did not follow Hilke and the Weasley family's footsteps, but instead quietly vanished into the darkness of the woods, moving towards the direction he could clearly perceive.
Everywhere around him, fans were singing the Irish national anthem, and many Wizards were dancing around bonfires.
But Sherlock had no intention of staying until that person's figure appeared once again within his Control Magic.