It's just a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Chapter 366 Mel Bloom

Early the next morning.

Silk and Sherlock sat at the dining table and had breakfast together with normal expressions.

Neither of them mentioned what happened last night, as if they had the same dream together.

But what has happened, in the end, cannot be regarded as nothing happened.

The relationship between them seems to be the same as before, but in fact it has become more subtle.

"Are you still going out today?"

Silke ate a sandwich, looked up and asked.

With a cup of morning tea in his hand, Sherlock was focusing on the Daily Prophet spread out on the table.

"There are still some things that haven't been dealt with. Kingsley and I have made an appointment for a meeting today."

After speaking, he put down the empty teacup, stood up and stretched himself.

"I won't come back for lunch. If you feel bored at home, you can go to No. 12 Grimmauld Place to chat with Mrs. Weasley. I took you there once, and you should remember the location."

"Ah."

A smile appeared on Silk's face.

"You come back early that night."

Sherlock, who was putting on his coat, also smiled at her.

"Let's make steak for dinner. I'm bringing some red wine back from London."

There are no extra words, just this short dialogue is enough to reflect the changes in the relationship between the two.

Sherlock didn't Apparate until he was out of the house.

In the next second, his figure appeared in Diagon Alley.

Now it's summer vacation, although the return of the mysterious man has made the whole magic world panic.

It can be attributed to Sherlock's performance and the Ministry of Magic's publicity, and after so many days, the Death Eaters are still quiet, so the tense atmosphere at the beginning has gradually eased.

Even in the early morning, there is still a lot of traffic in Diagon Alley. After all, this is the largest wizarding business district in the entire British Isle, and there is never a shortage of customers.

What Sherlock wore today was a loose robe, with a hood covering his face.

It's not that he wants to hide his head and show his tail, but with his current popularity in the magic world, as long as he dares to walk on the street swaggeringly, he will definitely be surrounded by a large group of fanatical wizards.

Under Scrimgeour's deliberate instigation, the Ministry of Magic has minimized Sherlock's influence.

But there is still no way to suppress his popularity among the people.

The knife aimed at Voldemort's chest shocked people so much that it was only at this time that many wizards began to feel that the Dark Lord was not really invincible.

It's not that the Ministry of Magic didn't think about digging out some of Sherlock's black material to reduce his influence.

But no one in the Daily Prophet seems willing to write news that slanders him. Even Rita Skeeter, who disappeared for a few months and became a little taciturn after returning, rejected Scrimgeour's proposal. Hinting, claiming that he is a conscientious reporter who can only dig out the truth and report the truth with a bottom line.

So Sherlock walked along Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron.

In this dilapidated bar, there were already some wizards staying at breakfast. Sherlock's arrival didn't alarm anyone, only a few old witches wearing wide wizard hats glanced at him.

Before waiting for Old Tom, the owner of the bar, to entertain him, Sherlock had already come to the corner and sat opposite a dark-skinned wizard.

Kingsley, who was drinking butter beer and eating jam bread by himself, saw Sherlock's face clearly, and suddenly smiled.

"I thought you'd be late. Have you had breakfast? Would you like some bread?"

Sherlock didn't take his hat off his head, but he still relaxed on the back of the chair in front of Kingsley.

"I'm not like you. I have already eaten at home. Fresh milk and delicious sandwiches are much better than the jam bread made by that old man Tom."

Kingsley laughed dumbfounded, and he stuffed the last bite of bread into his mouth indifferently.

"How many Aurors can experience such a life?"

"You don't have any idea of ​​starting a family anymore?"

"People like us are a drag on the family, so I won't harm anyone. Moody's current retirement life is actually not bad."

"He's an old bachelor, and you still think his life is good? Come on, Kingsley, listen to me, stop being brainwashed by his words, find someone you like, and get married. Interfering with your work also makes you feel that what you are doing now has more meaning."

Kingsley shook his head with a wry smile.

"We're not talking about this today, let's talk about it later."

Seeing that he was not in the mood to continue talking about this topic, Sherlock also directly cut to the point.

"Did he promise to come?"

"In fact, he is very happy to meet you. He graduated from Hogwarts four years older than you, and he is still in the same college as you. After knowing that you have something to ask him, he was so excited that he almost went crazy. He said he planned to wear a white T-shirt under the robe, and wanted you to sign your name on it."

After listening to Kingsley's words, Sherlock's expression was a little strange.

"Why does it sound like such a person is not likely to be able to do this kind of work?"

"Don't say you don't think so, no one in the Department of Affairs thinks that his character fits his current status." Kingsley said with some headaches, "But his ability is indeed beyond doubt, otherwise he would not have entered the Ministry of Magic This has been achieved in less than ten years.”

While they were chatting, Kingsley's eyes suddenly glanced at the door of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Look, here he is."

As he spoke, he raised a hand and waved to the wizard who had just walked into the bar.

"Bloom, here."

The wizard named Bloom was a fat man with pale blond hair. He was not tall, but he looked as round as a meatball.

Sherlock glanced over and subconsciously overlapped the image of Harry's little cousin Dudley with this wizard.

After hearing Kingsley's greeting, Bloom's small eyes lit up immediately, and he quickly walked to their table.

He moved a bench from the side table and sat down on it. The poor chair let out a tooth-piercing groan.

Sherlock could feel Old Tom, who was wiping wine glasses in front of the bar, looked at them worriedly, as if he was afraid that he would suffer losses that he should not have suffered because of this fat man today.

After Bloom sat down, his small piercing eyes fixed on Sherlock, and then he stretched out his fat hand like a thick carrot with five branches.

"Oh my! Hello, Mr. Forrest, my name is Mel Bloom, and I'm the Unspeakable Man in charge of the Chamber of Time in the Department of Mysteries."

(End of this chapter)