Chapter 205: Hot Scars
When Harry knocked on the door, Sherlock was eating breakfast. He was holding a sandwich in one hand and the Daily Prophet in the other hand, discussing the news with Silk.
"This year's Quidditch World Cup final will be held in the UK, with Ireland playing against Bulgaria. I know you have little interest in Quidditch. In fact, I'm not that keen either, but it's always good to go out and take a look."
"I have already bought two tickets. Well, actually it is not me who bought them. Kingsley forwarded his own and Moody's two tickets to me. Their work will become even more complicated after the World Championship. I'm so busy that I don't have time to see..."
When he remembered the knock on the door, Sherlock already knew who it was through controlling magic.
He snapped his fingers casually, and the door to the living room opened by itself.
Harry panted and ran in from the door. He bent over, supported his knees with his hands, and spoke as soon as he entered the door.
"I, I'm a professor who sneaked out. I don't know if it's important or not, but my mother wants me to tell you something important..."
Just when he was panting and saying this, he suddenly noticed the stunning-looking but extremely unfamiliar girl sitting on the dining table.
Harry opened his mouth and looked at Hilke who was sipping the milk in the cup, and then turned to look at Sherlock who still hadn't taken his eyes away from the Daily Prophet.
"Professor, did I come at the right time?"
At this moment, Sherlock looked away from the newspaper and flicked his fingers. Although he and Harry were not in direct contact, Harry could still feel that his forehead was suddenly flicked by something. .
"It's not the right time. Avila... you should have met her last semester. She appeared in the castle many times wearing that big hat. She is currently living in my house temporarily, um... ....My niece? Or..."
Regarding the title, Sherlock seemed unable to make the decision on his own. He turned to look at Hilke and tried out several titles.
Silk said seriously with a straight face.
"I'm one year older than you, and we're not related by blood. You and my father, you and I are all different, and now we are friends."
Sherlock coughed twice.
"Okay, we're friends."
Harry looked at the girl who covered her eyes with a black ribbon and was so beautiful that it made people lose consciousness. After Sherlock's reminder, he quickly remembered where he had seen her before.
At the beginning of last semester, she wore a hood that covered most of her face and went to the auditorium to find Sherlock. Not only him, but also many students saw it.
"You can call her Sister Silk. This is my student Harry Potter. You should have heard of his name." Sherlock introduced the two of them to each other.
Harry lowered his head respectfully and shouted.
"Hello, Sister Hilke."
After hearing Harry Potter's name, Silk didn't show many surprised or strange expressions on his face, he just nodded lightly in response.
"Hello."
Sherlock helped Harry pull out a chair and motioned for him to sit down.
"If you have anything to do, sit down and talk about it. If you haven't had breakfast yet, come and have it with us. It just so happens that I made more."
"Where's Aunt Petunia...?"
"It's okay. If you're worried, I'll take you back later and say I brought you out."
After hearing what Sherlock said, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and sat down at the dining table. Silk got up and brought him a breakfast.
"I had a dream, and I dreamed about Voldemort!" Harry said straight to the point after drinking half a glass of milk in one breath.
Sherlock paused slightly while eating his sandwich, then quickly returned to normal.
"Then what?"
"I saw him in a big dilapidated house. Peter was kneeling next to him. They seemed to be discussing some secret plan. Peter was scared, but Voldemort insisted."
"Do you remember what they said between them?" Sherlock did not treat this as a casual matter, but asked seriously.
Harry frowned and thought about it for a moment, then quickly shook his head in frustration.
"I don't remember. I forgot what they said as soon as I woke up."
"But when I woke up, the scar on my forehead hurt, as if someone had burned it. I had this feeling when I was in second grade, when I encountered a basilisk. Before each attack, My forehead will hurt."
Sherlock put down the sandwich in his hand solemnly, motioned for Harry to come closer, and carefully studied the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
"You can think of scars as a form of extreme protection. Whenever the protective magic senses that you may be in danger, it will warn you in this way. But being able to dream about Voldemort, It’s really not normal.”
Sherlock looked at Harry and speculated.
"Did you deliberately think about Voldemort during the day?"
Harry could hear Sherlock guessing something, and he shook his head.
"No, Aunt Petunia asked me to mow the garden yesterday. I was very tired at night. After talking to my mother for a while, I lay on the bed and fell asleep."
Sherlock felt something was wrong, but couldn't explain why. He touched his chin and looked at Hilke.
"What do you think?"
Silk stared at Harry silently for a while with her eyes covered by black ribbons. When he was fidgeting and blushing, she spoke softly.
"Bad luck and good luck are intertwined and intertwined, but bad luck is stronger. You have to be careful for the whole year ahead."
Harry opened his mouth wide, listening to Silk's words that sounded like a prophecy but not like a prophecy, and was stunned for a long time without saying a word.
Until Sherlock flicked his forehead, he came back to his senses with his forehead covered.
"Did you hear that? Not only for the next year, you'd better be careful every day in the future. Do less rash things. Think clearly before doing things whether it's worth taking risks. If you get into trouble, it will not only represent you, but also your mother."
Harry looked heavy.
He obviously listened to Sherlock's words. He was not just himself now. Lily was still under the protective magic on him. If something happened, it would not only be himself who would be in danger, but Professor Forrest had taken so many risks and spent so much effort to keep his mother's soul alive. Then he would be in trouble too.
After having breakfast at Sherlock's place, Sherlock personally sent Harry back to the Dursleys' house.
Although Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked unhappy, at least they didn't say anything more to him.