Sherlock's breakfast consisted of toast and hot milk.
Snape went straight back to his room after finishing breakfast. He had just received today's The Daily Prophet and was reading the headlines.
This time, the headline wasn't related to any Death Eater attacks but was instead a piece of gossip.
"Mrs Evans Remarries and Leaves for Germany; New Husband is Deputy Minister of Magic"
The news was about the remarriage of the ex-wife of the current Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, Tyler Evans, to someone in Germany.
A simple remarriage wouldn't usually be news, but the key was that this Mrs Evans had married and divorced six times in just five years, and every one of her husbands had been a high-ranking official in the British Ministry of Magic, with the lowest position being an Office Director.
The title "Mrs Evans" came from her current husband; before that, she had been known as Mrs Nelson, Mrs Andrew, and so on.(TN: I am guessing this is Mrs Zabini.)
It was said that her charm was incredible, and every man who saw her for the first time would be captivated by her.
There were even rumours claiming that Mrs Evans was actually a Veela, and that any man she wanted to seduce could not escape her grasp.
But now it seemed she had finally grown tired of playing games in the British Wizarding World. She had divorced her current husband a few days earlier and married someone in Germany, so The Daily Prophet naturally reported on it extensively.
Besides saying she had finally left to wreak havoc on the German Ministry of Magic, it also secretly mocked the lust of the British Ministry of Magic's high-ranking officials for pursuing the wives of colleagues and subordinates, suggesting there was a reason the state of the Wizarding World had deteriorated so much.
Sherlock had no interest in such news. After glancing at it twice, he tossed it aside and continued eating his toast.
Others in the bar, however, were exceptionally interested in it. Listening to stories of Aurors and Death Eaters fighting every day was becoming depressing, so a bit of different gossip to lighten the mood gave them something they were eager to discuss.
"I heard that Mrs Evans actually had a child with her first husband, who was just an ordinary Auror Captain back then."
"She had a child and still acted like this?"
"Can you tell from her appearance that she's a woman who has given birth?"
"So the rumours that she's actually a Veela aren't completely baseless; that silver hair is just too conspicuous."
Sherlock had no interest in listening to their conversation, so he got up and went upstairs to his room.
Just a minute after he left, two Wizards wearing black robes pushed open the door and walked in from outside.
They wore broad hats that obscured their faces, making them appear unremarkable.
But what they did next made everyone present uneasy.
Before Tom could even step forward to serve them, they drew their wands from their robes, chanted an incantation, and suddenly thrust the tips of their wands into the ground.
Instantly, almost every Wizard sitting in the bar stood up, because at that moment the two Wizards revealed their true faces—two hideous, ferocious faces.
Before them flickered the green image of a giant serpent emerging from a skull's mouth.
The Dark Mark!
Death Eaters!
Immediately, someone tried to Apparate away, but their body flickered for a moment before reappearing in the same spot; the magic had failed.
Everyone's faces turned pale. The first spell the two Death Eaters had cast upon entering the tavern was an Anti-Apparition Charm.
Most people recognised the faces of these two Death Eaters.
Igor Karkaroff and Thorfinn Rowle, core subordinates of the Dark Lord and mainstays of the Death Eaters.(TN: I believe they were more lowkey than that.)
Both had appeared in the battle in Wales not long ago, where four Aurors had died.
"I advise you all not to act rashly."
Karkaroff was tall and thin, with a smooth, pleasant voice, but his eyes were full of coldness and menace.
"The Dark Lord has given us a mission. As long as you all cooperate obediently, no one will be harmed today. But if someone wants to be a hero, perhaps they can enjoy the praise of the people after they become a ghost."
None of the Wizards in the bar dared to move, and no one dared to respond.
Although there were only two Death Eaters, they could summon their companions at any time through the Dark Mark. No one dared oppose these villains.
Looking at the reactions of the people present, Karkaroff seemed very satisfied.
He walked to the bar counter and casually picked up a piece of toast from the tray Tom was tremblingly holding, looking just like an ordinary customer who had come for breakfast.
"Your skills are good, Tom. I've always felt your talents were wasted working under the Ministry of Magic's thumb," Karkaroff praised.
Old Tom forced an incredibly ugly smile as he stammered,
"I-I just want to make a living, just make a living..."
"Don't be nervous."
Karkaroff patted his shoulder, making Old Tom's body tremble even more violently.
He lowered his head close to Tom's face, staring into his eyes with those icy eyes.
"The Dark Lord is looking for someone, and I think she might be staying here with you."
"You... you mean..."
"A little girl, surname Butler."
Old Tom thought for a moment, then swallowed and said,
"No, there isn't, sir. My inn hasn't hosted any little girl named Butler."
Karkaroff's gaze never left his eyes, staring at him as though trying to see through him.
"You'd better think more carefully, Old Tom. The toast is delicious, and the cider is sweet. You surely want to continue enjoying these delicacies in the future, don't you?"
Old Tom's forehead was covered in sweat. Whether he lived or died depended on his next words.
"There... there really isn't, sir. I haven't hosted any guest with the surname Butler recently."
Karkaroff didn't speak again but continued staring at him, his piercing gaze seeming to bore into Old Tom's mind.
Just as Old Tom's legs were beginning to give way and he was almost unable to remain standing, Karkaroff finally spoke again.
"Then allow us to disturb the guests staying in your inn for a little while as we search for the person we're looking for. I trust you don't mind?"
"O-of course, you're welcome."
Old Tom leaned against the bar with a strained smile.
Karkaroff left his side and walked over to the other Death Eater, Rowle, speaking in a low voice.
"Go upstairs and search. Bring down any child you find. I'll watch these people."
Rowle was a heavily built Wizard with a coarse, rugged face. He nodded, took his wand, and headed upstairs.
After he left, Karkaroff turned to the Wizards in the bar, who were watching him nervously, and waved with a smile.
"Sit down, everyone. Relax. We are reasonable people as well. Your misunderstanding of us all stems from the Ministry of Magic's constant slander."
"Come now, let's continue our pleasant breakfast and newspaper reading. What does today's The Daily Prophet report? Oh! My goodness, this hussy has finally left. Otherwise, the philandering nature of those high-ranking Ministry officials would have been exposed completely, and that would have been unfortunate..."
The moment Karkaroff and Rowle cast the Anti-Apparition Charm over the entire Leaky Cauldron, Sherlock and Snape both sensed that something was wrong.
They opened their doors and looked at each other.
Neither of them spoke, yet they had already reached the same conclusion.
If anything seemed wrong, they would leave immediately.
They both retreated into their rooms, but Sherlock suddenly noticed that the window in his room had somehow been left slightly open.
He quickly scanned the small room and found no one else inside.
By then, someone had already come upstairs and begun searching the rooms one by one. Dissatisfied voices from those being disturbed rang out, but they quickly fell silent.
Soon the searcher reached the neighbouring Room 12, where Snape was staying.
Sherlock heard the door to Snape's room open, followed by the exchange.
"Who are you looking for?"
"You'd better cooperate, pal. You should recognise this face of mine and know whose subordinate I am. Now step aside. I'm going to search your room."
Snape said nothing further. He had clearly allowed the searcher inside.
At that moment, Sherlock extended his Control Magic, searching every corner of the room, and finally sensed something unusual beneath his bed.
He lay down on the floor and looked underneath. It appeared completely empty.
But Sherlock didn't stop there.
He reached out and felt beneath the bed, immediately touching a piece of invisible, slippery fabric suspended in the air.
He grasped the fabric and pulled gently, revealing a small figure.
She blinked her bright azure eyes and looked at Sherlock in silence.
Sherlock met her gaze.
The two stared at each other for several seconds.
In the end, he said nothing and silently pulled the invisibility cloak back over her before standing up.
By then, the searcher had finished searching Snape's room and, without knocking, used Alohomora to open Sherlock's door.
"What are you doing?"
Sherlock frowned as he looked at Rowle walking into the room.
Rowle sneered.
"If you read The Daily Prophet every day, you should recognise this face of mine, so you'd better stay still and behave yourself."
Sherlock certainly recognised him.
During the past three months, Rowle's photograph had appeared twice in The Daily Prophet: once for the Ministry's bounty on him, and once in the report on the attack in Wales.
Sherlock offered no resistance, allowing Rowle to search the wardrobe, under the bed, and the bathroom.
After finding nothing, Rowle glared at him fiercely.
"If you find a child named Butler, you'd better hand her over to us. The Dark Lord will reward you. If you find her but don't, you'll receive a special 'reward' as well."
The "special reward" was obviously no reward at all.
After Sherlock nodded to show that he understood, Rowle walked out of the room and turned towards the neighbouring Room 10.