"Actually, it's nothing special."
Seeing Harry and Ron's shocked expressions and their heartfelt admiration, Sherlock said this but felt very pleased.
Even though he was much more mature than his peers, he was still an eleven-year-old child after all.
Most importantly, he could tell that Harry and Ron's praise was genuine.
Unlike those people he had encountered before.
After recovering from their shock, Ron asked Harry to take him along to see Hagrid.
Harry didn't refuse and immediately invited Sherlock to join them with great anticipation.
Sherlock naturally agreed as well.
This was precisely his original intention in approaching Harry—using the savior of the wizarding world as a fulcrum to interact with various kinds of people and gain high initial favorability.
This way, he could obtain much information without expending too much energy.
However, in the process of interacting with Harry, he discovered that this little boy was very much to his liking, and gradually came to consider him as a true friend.
Precisely because they were friends, he couldn't afford to be vague when it was time to use this connection.
Having received Sherlock's agreement, Harry was in great spirits and even forgot his worries about Potions class and Snape.
But he soon remembered them again.
Because the Potions classroom was located underground, the dim environment inevitably reminded one of the Leaky Cauldron.
However, the reality was that this place was even colder and more sinister than the pub.
Various bizarre animal specimens with strange postures and grotesque shapes were arranged along the walls, making one feel eerie and terrifying at just a glance.
But compared to the professor of this course, they could even be called handsome.
The Potions professor was Severus Snape, also the last of the four House heads.
As soon as he opened his mouth, a sarcastic feeling immediately hit them:
"Harry Potter. Oh yes, our new—celebrity."
The Slytherin students immediately snickered.
Both Harry and Ron's faces turned red.
Upon hearing this, Sherlock's eyes lit up.
He leaned forward slightly, excitement flickering in his gaze.
'This professor has spirit!'
After taking attendance, Snape, like Professor McGonagall, gave all the students an intimidating introduction:
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.
As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.
I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.
I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper to death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
After this speech, the classroom fell silent in an instant.
Sherlock nodded approvingly.
He thought Snape was absolutely right.
Many times, he had similar feelings—certain people really could lower the intelligence of an entire street, and even when they appeared in his field of vision, they would disturb his eyes.
More interestingly, he had also mentioned science.
This was the first professor at the magical school to mention it.
In Sherlock's view, this one was actually more suitable to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
If they could swap him with Quirrell, that would be a masterstroke.
Unfortunately, they couldn't be swapped.
However,...
Sherlock glanced at Harry. Was Snape targeting this savior?
With all the teachers, including the somewhat odd Professor Quirrell and the stern Professor McGonagall, all liking Harry, suddenly having such an anomaly appear was truly a very interesting thing.
This scene was so delightfully entertaining that Sherlock simply played the role of an onlooker, watching Harry being made difficult by Snape.
"Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
As soon as Snape asked the question, Hermione nearby raised her hand high.
Obviously, she was eager to prove that she wasn't one of those dunderheads Snape mentioned.
As for Harry... from his completely bewildered expression, Sherlock knew this poor child, like Ron beside him, hadn't even heard the question clearly.
Sure enough, Harry answered honestly: "I don't know, sir."
"Tut, tut—you didn't open a book before coming, did you, Potter?"
Snape made no effort to hide his contempt. "Well, let's try again—where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Harry: (・-・*)
"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Harry: (*￣︿￣)
"Fame clearly isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"
Snape began mocking again.
Harry: (｡•ˇ‸ˇ•｡)
Faced with Snape's sinister gaze and the unconcealed mocking looks from the Slytherin students, Harry felt both ashamed and angry, and finally couldn't help but retort:
"Although I don't know, sir, I think Hermione knows the answer. Why don't you try her?"
This time, someone finally couldn't help but laugh.
But as Snape's gaze swept over them, the classroom instantly fell silent, so quiet that even a pin dropping could be heard.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. He naturally knew the answers to these questions.
Phyllida Spore's One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi recorded them, and Arsenius Jigger's Magical Drafts and Potions also mentioned them.
Both were textbooks on the book list.
But for most people, even if they would flip through books before school started, they wouldn't memorize these contents.
Of course, if he didn't find this knowledge useful, Sherlock likewise wouldn't stuff it into his brain.
It took up too much space.
Hermione beside them performed with her usual consistency—after Harry's active recommendation, she was already standing with her hand raised.
'So why was Snape targeting Harry?'
Sherlock keenly sensed that although Snape's malice was directed at Harry, its source wasn't Harry himself.
Considering Snape's age and status, an idea was gradually beginning to take shape in his mind.
"Heh heh."
Sherlock chuckled.
Interesting, truly interesting.
He hadn't expected that besides magic, Hogwarts' teachers themselves were also quite fascinating.
But at this moment, the classroom was in a state of complete silence due to Snape's earlier intimidation, making his light laughter particularly conspicuous.
"Sit down!"
Snape first turned and barked at Hermione, then walked to Sherlock and stared at him coldly:
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes—the genius of Transfiguration, praised by several professors. It seems you find this matter quite amusing, do you?"
"That's not the case, sir. I just... thought of something happy."
Sherlock stood up and replied politely.
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