章 116: Chapter 116: Unspeakables

"... they released that scoundrel Centaur who smuggled and sold magical creature's eggs. The very same Centaur I seized on my last assignment," voiced a low, female tone, harsh yet with visible fatigue. Harry, his mind caught in the haze of grogginess, heard this distant conversation.

"It actually dared to threaten me with revenge on its release. So, I retaliated with a lighthearted application of a dancing charm, making its four legs leap and move till it crumbled from sheer exhaustion, you know just to teach it a lesson" continued the voice.

At this point another voice joined in, this one was bright and lively, and it seemed to originate from just above Harry's head.

"My entire life, I've wanted to see a real centaur. I'd love to see the tribe living in Hogwart'S Forbidden Forest! Di you know that it's actually the biggest one in the world? But I doubt I'll ever get the chance to see it.. Dumbledore doesn't allow tourists in and sneaking in is basically impossible, trust me I've tried. It's embarrassing but when I was a kid I thought centaurs had a horse head and a human body, like this."

Scrunching his eyebrows together, Harry tried to make sense of the never ending stream of chatter. He found it incredibly hard to follow their conversation though he wasn't sure if that was due to his still foggy mind or their conversation. With great effort he opened his eyes trying to find out who he had been listening in on.

"Hey look, he's waking up, Tonks!"

Harry's gaze met Tonks' as she lowered her gaze, offering him a warm, friendly smile. However, the sight that greeted Harry as his eyes sprang open was nothing short of nightmarish.

Staring at him was a gigantic horse face, not metaphorically long-faced but genuinely equine! This horse face had gleaming, hot pink curly hair sprouting out of it, with two wide eyes that wore a chilling grin!

Harry couldn't hide his horror at the sight of the creature, his face firm with fear. The relentless sensory onslaught left his mind vacant, struggling to make sense of his situation, like he was standing at the edge of an abyss, staring into the void of insanity.

Suddenly, Harry's head made a swift surrender to gravity as he slumped unconscious once again.

"You frightened him Tonks!" exclaimed Fiora. She wore an eye mask strapped around her head and her voice teetered between concern and bouts of giggling.

Only then did it dawn on Tonks that she still wore her horse face. She hurriedly morphed back to her usual self, patted Harry's unconscious face, and called out to him.

"Harry, wake up, quickly! If Shacklebolt discovers I scared you again, he'll reprimand me till kingdom come!" But Harry remained non-responsive, his instinct nudging him to remain unconscious, as though something unsettling hung thick in the air. He chose passing out over the looming debacles hovering outside consciousness.

Desperate, Tonks conjured a reviving spell designed to awaken those rendered unconscious through fainting spells. Unluckily, that wasn't the reason of Harry's temporary coma, making her spell ineffective.

"Maybe hot chocolate would help. It tends to work when Dementors are involved, right?" she reasoned aloud.

Attempting to remedy her error, Tonks fetched a steaming cup of hot chocolate. As she tried to bring it up to Harry's mouth, she spilled a portion onto his hair instead.

"Look what you've done now, Tonks!" Fiora shrieked, pointing towards Harry's chocolate stained mane.

"O-oh, I didn't mean to! I'm sorry Harry! At least it's not that hot! Let me clean you up- Tergeo!"

Meanwhile, Sherlock Forester, oblivious to Harry's ordeal, sat with Shacklebolt in the investigation room, focusing on the study of the soul eating case.

"The information disclosed by the Dementor might prove useful," mused Sherlock, fingers tapping on the polished surface of the mahogany table. "You mentioned the Dementor's chief saying something about sensing some kind of dangerous presence manifesting in Great Britain?"

Shacklebolt nodded, "Yes, that's correct."

"To elicit fear in the Dementors..." Sherlock considered the proposition, shaking his head in disbelief. "This truly goes beyond my comprehension, mostly because it's not connected to any magical species native to Britain. They say the unknown magical creatures in our world are almost as many as the known, but I'd guess that the unexplored outnumber the discovered by roughly 20%. The percentage could be even higher for the dark creatures."

In response, Shacklebolt merely sighed.

"Without a concrete course of action we're at the mercy of this undiscovered creature. A creature that consumes not just the souls of muggles, but even wizards... and we'e completely in the dark regarding the creature's next move."

Sherlock lapsed into silence upon hearing this. Their predicament was indeed dire. Not only were they unable to identify the creature's species, but they also failed to identify any patterns in its actions.

Just as an unsettling hush filled the room, the door creaked open, revealing a figure that bore a strong resemblance to a lion. With his chestnut hair and bushy eyebrows, the man wore an aura of authority.

"Mr. Scrimgeour," upon seeing the newcomer, Shacklebolt lowered his head in deference.

Rufus Scrimgeour, the Chief of the Auror Office and the British Ministry of Magic's preeminent Auror, had just entered.

Despite the prevalent whisperings about him, Shacklebolt still displayed the requisite amount of respect in his presence. After all, Scrimgeour was his immediate superior.

Scrimgeour's gaze then drifted towards Sherlock.

"I see Forester is here as well," he remarked in a flat tone.

"He possesses an extensive knowledge of dark magical creatures. Hence, I asked him to aid us in this situation," responded Shacklebolt.

"I see. His skills are undoubtedly valuable in the investigation room, a fact that had me declining his requests to join combat missions more than once. If only I knew that he'd resign after a just one year.."

At this point, Scrimgeour turned to Sherlock, locking eyes with him. Sherlock simply shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Director, but my ultimate dream always was to become a professor at Hogwarts. Working at the Ministry was merely a means to an end, Dumbledore thought I lacked practical experience and I thought combat missions would be a perfect way to gain that experience," he replied.

"Even though that sentence rubs me the wrong way, I can't deny that I appreciate your honesty and goal-oriented decision making, just a shame that that goal is a professorship.." Scrimgeour retorted. Pushing the door open a bit wider, he made way for three other wizards.

"I'm taking you off the case, Shacklebolt. We're handing this case off to these fellows," Scrimgeour informed.

Upon hearing this, Sherlock and Shacklebolt directed their attention towards the three wizards.

Two wizards, their attire noticably differing from the Ministry standard, who wore stern faces, somber expressions and black robes.

The third figure, a witch, was someone Sherlock had actually met once before.

Garbed in the same black robe, her face was mostly concealed with a large hood. Only a few strands of silver-gray hair was visible.

It was Hilke, the eccentric German witch Dumbledore had requested Sherlock to accompany to the Forbidden Forest.

Shacklebolt looked at the trio, his face a mask of surprise. "Who are these individuals?"

With that, Scrimgeour began the introductions.

"The two are Aurors Andreas Hendrik and Erik Haas hailing from the German Ministry of Magic. The witch is the Veela Hilke from the Department of Enigmatic Magic also associated with the German Ministry of Magic."

Hearing about Hilke's identity, Shacklebolt shot her a wary look.

"Enigmatic magic," he murmured, an air of unease surrounding him.

This domain of magic was one of the most mysterious aspects of any magical community. The Department of Mysteries at the British Ministry housed an unspecified number of Unspeakables researching the most incomprehensible aspects of the magical world. Their identities were strictly confidential and they were forbidden from discussing anything relating to their work, hence the name Unspeakable.

Despite his tenure at the Ministry, this was the first time Kingsley was crossing paths with an Unspeakable. Ironically, she wasn't even from Britain.

Scrimgeour, his gaze on the six soulless bodies sprawled on the beds, continued.

"The culprit behind the case is a runaway from Germany. The trio here is specifically assigned to solve that, rendering this case out of our jurisdiction. We should focus our energy on the Black case now," Scrimgeour concluded.

Comprehending, Kingsley and Sherlock stood up to leave. As they passed Hilke, Sherlock respectfully nodded at her.

"A pleasure to meet you again, Madam."

After Sherlock and Kingsley exited the room, Hilke, Haas, and Hendrick started to closely examine the conditions of the victims.

"It's confirmed then. The first five were Muggles, but the most recent victim is a wizard, proving that its power is growing stronger and its appetite is increasing," voiced Haas clinically.

"Its movements are too fast, and we don't even understand why it hasn't fled to that island but has come to Britain instead," added Hendrick sternly.

"Its destination is Hogwarts," Hilke finally uttered her first words, her voice cold and ethereal.