Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

"You exchanged the pounds for gold galleons from the goblins in Gringotts?"

There was no surprise on Sherlock's face, but instead he looked a little sad.

"Yes." The girl nodded gently.

"Is it the salary you have saved over the years?"

“And a little bit of dad’s legacy.”

"According to the current exchange rate announced by the goblins, one galleon can be exchanged for about five pounds. Two hundred thousand pounds is equivalent to forty thousand galleons..."

Sherlock just made a simple calculation, and the expression on his face became more distressed. He turned around and looked at Hilke, who was still wearing the large black robe, covering the upper half of his face with a hood, and a vegetable basket hanging on his arm with some onions and potatoes in it, and sighed helplessly.

"Before you buy it, please tell me. It's a big loss to exchange Galleons for pounds at Gringotts. Besides, two hundred thousand pounds... this yard isn't even worth fifty thousand pounds. That money belongs to you." It’s hard earned, don’t you feel bad?”

Silk smiled and shook his head.

"I don't feel bad."

Ever since she saw Sherlock again, the smiles on her face had become more and more frequent, but it seemed like an epiphyllum only bloomed in the middle of the night, and would only show the beauty that existed in an instant to a specific person.

Sherlock sighed again and took the basket of onions and potatoes from her arm.

"Let's go and let me see how your new home is like. We've also arranged lunch at your place."

Silke's eyes hidden by the black ribbon showed a hint of excitement that rarely appeared in her emotions before. Her steps also became brisk, and she led Sherlock to open the courtyard door that belonged to her alone. .

The vegetation in the front yard is basically unchanged, except for the two maple trees that are covered with windmills.

Sherlock followed her into the living room. The original owner's furniture had been moved away long ago. The current furniture decoration was relatively simple. There were only sofas, coffee tables and shoe cabinets in the living room, not even a clothes hanger.

"Won't you become the center of attention when you go out dressed like this?"

He complained and pulled Hilke's hood off her head, revealing a face that was so delicate that it seemed as if it didn't belong to this world.

Silk wrinkled his nose, not because he disliked Sherlock's behavior at this time, but because he didn't like his attitude towards her like he was treating a child.

"I used a spell and I looked ordinary to Muggles."

"Then you don't have to wear a hood when you go out. Covering your face with this every day will make people depressed. Seeing the sun more is good for maintaining a good mood."

Sherlock was nagging, like an old father who was worried about his child living alone, and always had endless instructions.

Silke carried the vegetable basket into the kitchen with an expressionless face, peeled the onions and potatoes he had just bought and washed them in the sink.

"You live here now, what about your job at the German Ministry of Magic?"

"I resigned."

"Resigned?" Sherlock was stunned for a moment, and then he could basically guess the reason for her resignation. He shook his head, "It doesn't matter if you resigned, I guess you don't like that place either."

"Since you have resigned, let's rest at home for a while. If you still want to find a job in the UK, I can help. If you don't want to work, then go out for a walk. If you don't have enough money, come to me... .."valley

Seeing that he started nagging again, Silk cut the potatoes with a kitchen knife and interrupted him softly.

"I've found a new job."

Sherlock suddenly raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"It's only been a week since you moved to England, right? So soon? Where do you work?"

Hearing his question, Silk pursed his lips, raised the corners of his mouth slightly, and remained silent without answering, as if he was expecting something to happen.

Seeing that she didn't want to talk, Sherlock stopped asking further, and just continued to chat about some interpersonal matters, telling her not to swallow her anger if she was bullied, and to beat him directly. If she couldn't beat him, she would come to him to complain. He went to help regain the ground.

Hilke didn't seem to be very skilled in cooking. She controlled the kitchen utensils and worked for more than an hour before barely finishing two lunches.

An extremely simple roasted potato and onion soup. It can be seen that she has exceeded her ability to make these two dishes.

Later, under Silk's nervous and expectant gaze, Sherlock took his first bite of onion soup. The corner of his mouth twitched for a moment, and then he admired Silk's craftsmanship and said that even Hogg All of Watts' house-elf cooking skills put together were not as good as one of her hands.

Hilke's face clearly showed some excitement. She quietly took a sip of the fruits of her busy work during the afternoon, and then the expression on her face returned to expressionless.

Looking at Hilke who vomited the onion soup in his mouth into the trash can, Sherlock comforted him.

"Actually, it's not that bad. As long as you put less sugar, less salt, less butter, keep the heat longer, and cut the onions smaller, the taste will still be good."

Silk took the bowl of onion soup from Sherlock's hand and poured it all into the sink with a sullen face, as if he was sulking at himself.

"Let's go out to eat."

"What are you going to eat out for? Leave it to me, although I don't know if it will suit your taste." Sherlock rolled up his sleeves and walked into the kitchen.

In fact, he didn't need to do it himself. He directly controlled the potatoes that Silk hadn't used up, peeled and washed them quickly, and waved his hand. The kitchen knife flew up by itself, like a chef in a restaurant, cutting the potatoes into strips, each one was exactly the same, as if it had been measured with a ruler. Silk lay quietly on the dining table, watching Sherlock turn on the fire in the kitchen, pour oil and put the potato strips into the pot, while continuing to nag, just like they used to be in the small room in the Leaky Cauldron. "Amy is born to be a lady. It doesn't matter if she can't cook. You just need to eat. If you are not used to the taste of Chinese food, I actually learned some French cooking skills. But I just tinkered with it at home for a while. No one gave me feedback on the taste. I was quite happy eating it myself."

"In the future, when it's time for dinner, you should be more diligent to walk to my place. I will make an extra portion whenever you come. Of course, if you want to stay, I will clean up a room for you. It's just that you are a grown-up girl now. It's always a bit uncomfortable to be seen by others. If someone asks, just say you are my sister, although we don't look much alike..."

"Sherlock." Silk, who had been listening quietly, suddenly shouted.

Sherlock turned his eyes to her in confusion.

Silk's expression was very serious, and her eyes hidden in the black ribbon seemed to be very serious too.

"Don't call me Amy anymore, call me Vera. I won't call you John either, I'll call you Sherlock." Sherlock was stunned for a moment. He looked at the girl's extremely serious face, blinked, and smiled. "Okay."