Sherlock looked up at Hilke, who was still sitting on the tree branch, and his originally indifferent expression broke into a helpless smile.
"Couldn't you just say it was a sincere revelation of my feelings? Although I did intentionally drag it out for so long to give him a chance, some of those words were indeed from the heart."
"Also, didn't I tell you to stay with the Weasley family? Why did you come here by yourself?"
Hilke looked up at the brilliant starry sky.
"The stars shifted. I knew where to wait so that I could help you."
Sherlock followed her gaze and looked up at the stars as well, but he couldn't see a single sign.
The area of magical knowledge he lacked most was divination, and the most complex part of divination was undoubtedly astrology, which also had deep ties to Astronomy.
He shook his head, then his face suddenly froze for a moment, followed by a smirk as if a scheme had succeeded.
"Found them!"
...
Hans felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.
He tightly held the unconscious Barty Crouch Jr. in his arms, enduring the discomfort of an emergency Apparition. His face and entire upper body were covered in blood.
But he didn't dare complain, nor did he dare curse aloud to vent his pain.
In the room where Hans had Apparated, countless people wearing black robes and masks stood hidden in the shadows of the corners. As he landed, countless pairs of eyes stared at them.
Blood continued to spill from his mouth, yet he still prostrated himself on the ground. After setting down Barty Crouch Jr., he knelt facing the sofa chair, which was turned away from them.
"Master!"
Risking his life to save Barty Crouch Jr. was certainly not because Hans had any deep camaraderie with him; it was purely because if he hadn't, and had returned alone to report, he wouldn't have escaped death.
Only by rescuing Barty Crouch Jr. could he be considered to have redeemed himself through merit.
Standing beside the sofa chair, a short, fat Wizard who looked like a rat cautiously turned the chair to face forward.
In the entire room, none of these villains, who had once acted high and mighty in the Wizarding World, dared to lift their heads and look directly at the being sitting in the chair—an existence that was now neither human nor ghost.
Hans didn't dare look up either. He pressed his bloody forehead against the floor and recounted the events in a raspy voice.
"We had already made contact with Crouch, but a Professor from Hogwarts named Sherlock Cavendish stopped us. The magic he used was very strange, and he was extremely powerful. Charles and the others all died there. I fought to the death to save Crouch and bring him back."
The person on the sofa chair spoke in a cold voice that carried a rare trace of gentleness.
"Barty, we meet again. Why don't you dare look up at your master?"
Barty Crouch Jr. lay on the ground in silence. At first, the people in the room were surprised by his boldness, but they soon realised something was wrong.
From where Barty Crouch Jr. lay, crimson blood was constantly flowing out from underneath him, quickly gathering into a large pool!
"Wormtail!" The cold voice was now so frigid it felt like falling into an ice cellar. "Go see him. What's wrong with him?"
Peter, his face pale, jogged over to Barty Crouch Jr.'s side. He reached out to check his breath, then his body shuddered. He then flipped the body over, seeing the bloody hole where his heart had been on his back!
"He... he... he's dead! Master."
After Peter stammered out those words, everyone present couldn't help but tremble.
Hans, kneeling on the ground, slumped down completely, merely muttering in disbelief.
"Impossible, impossible..."
The person on the sofa chair gave no response to this; he remained staring fixedly at Barty Crouch Jr.'s corpse!
He was certainly not feeling sad over the death of a servant. To him, even the most loyal servant was just a useful tool, not worth it—no one in this world was worth him showing any special emotion.
Thus, he watched Barty Crouch Jr.'s corpse. No one around dared to make a sound, even keeping their breathing as light as possible, not daring to disturb the Dark Lord's deep thoughts.
"What did you bring back!" He seemed to have finally noticed something, his cold tone laced with fury. "This corpse is connected to a Hand of Glory! Our location is exposed!"
Instantly, a clamour broke out among the countless Death Eaters in the room!
"Burn Barty's body immediately! Kill this waste after extracting his memories! Then relocate! Fast!"
"Yes, Master."
Peter raised his wand with a grimace, pointing it at Hans, who was curled up on the floor. Hans didn't dare resist and could only beg repeatedly.
"Legilimency!"
Shortly afterwards, a fire broke out, engulfing the entire small building, as well as the two corpses lying in the room...
Just as Sherlock and Hilke returned to the location of the two dead Death Eaters, more than twenty Ministry of Magic employees surrounded them from all directions.
Evidently, Sherlock's hundred or so Explosion Charms had caught their attention, and they had finally arrived, albeit late.
"Sherlock!"
Among the Ministry employees who arrived, there were clearly many acquaintances Sherlock knew—Kingsley, Mr Weasley, and several other familiar faces he had seen at the Order of the Phoenix meetings. They all shouted his name in surprise.
But even though some of them held significant positions, they weren't the highest-ranking among those who had arrived.
The Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Barty Crouch Sr., was pale, looking as if he were very nervous about something.
His behaviour wasn't particularly prominent among the group of Ministry employees; most of the others also had faces that were frighteningly pale.
The Dark Mark that had just lit up the sky made every wizard who saw it think of some very unpleasant things.
"Mr Cavendish, and the young lady beside you, you'd better explain everything you've experienced clearly!"
When Sherlock worked at the Auror Office, Old Barty had not yet been transferred from his position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, so he naturally recognised him.
However, judging by his tone, Sherlock, as a minor employee in the Auror Office, naturally had no personal friendship with the Head of a Department; the two were merely acquaintances.
Except for Mr Weasley, Kingsley, and a few others who were old acquaintances of Sherlock, the others did not lower their wands, still aiming them straight at him.
The appearance of the Dark Mark made everyone present very nervous. In their hearts, they desperately hoped to immediately catch the person who had released the mark and force them to say that using such a mark's magic was only to cause chaos, rather than some other unthinkable reason.
Facing such a display, Sherlock's expression didn't change at all. He narrowed his eyes and turned to meet Old Barty's gaze.
"Do you really want me to say everything I discovered right here? This has a lot to do with you, Director Crouch."
Old Barty's eyes clearly flickered with panic for a moment, but he still said forcefully,
"What could it possibly have to do with me?"
Sherlock stared at him expressionlessly and suddenly said,
"Your son is dead."
Old Barty shuddered all over, his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably.
The people around who heard him were all completely bewildered.
Everyone present knew that Old Barty's son, Barty Crouch Jr., had long since died in Azkaban. What did Sherlock mean by bringing this up for no reason and reopening old wounds?
"Everyone... knows my son died a long time ago!"
Old Barty suppressed it as much as he could. Others didn't notice, but Sherlock clearly heard his uncontrollably trembling voice.
He gave a slight smile and didn't say anything more about Barty Crouch Jr., but instead said,
"While watching the Quidditch World Cup final, I noticed several strange people in the stands."
As Sherlock said this, under his Control Magic perception, he could clearly feel Old Barty's entire body tense up.
"After leaving the stadium, I followed them secretly and eventually arrived here. When those riots broke out, these people also discovered me and attacked me. I killed two of them in self-defence, and the remaining two escaped."
He recounted the whole process truthfully but did not mention Barty Crouch Jr. again.
The Ministry employees looked at each other. Naturally, they wouldn't just let Sherlock and Hilke leave like that; they had to take them to the Ministry of Magic to give a statement.
Kingsley accompanied Sherlock and the others to the Ministry, while Old Crouch stayed at the scene with the others.
He walked tremblingly to the two riddled, wretched corpses, with an Auror beside him carefully taking notes.
"Preliminary analysis suggests the killing spell was Transfiguration. First trapped, then sharp objects were transformed to pierce through the person. These craters at the scene were caused by the effects of Explosion Charms, which were extremely powerful by visual estimation—at least the effect of twenty Wizards using them together."
Old Barty wasn't listening to what he was saying. He just gritted his teeth and waved his wand, using magic to remove the masks from the faces of the two corpses.
They were two bloodless faces, both from famous pure-blood families in Britain's Wizarding World, but neither was that familiar face.
Old Barty immediately breathed a long sigh of relief. The expression on his face returned to calm, and it was unclear what he was thinking in those sombre eyes.
Meanwhile, Sherlock naturally faced no difficulties at the Auror Office. The person taking his statement and asking for relevant details was Kingsley.
After a simple recording, the incident was categorised as Sherlock's reasonable self-defence.
Sherlock didn't tell him anything about Barty Crouch Jr. either, and Hilke also remained silent about the matter throughout.