"Don't you need to eat dinner?"
Hearing Harry's words, a smug smile flashed across Professor Snape's thin face, as if he had already seen through everything.
"I believe the food provided by ghosts at their party would hardly be suitable for the living."
Hermione: "We're not hungry."
Harry: "We brought enough food."
Neville: "..."
His voice was very quiet, and Snape didn't catch what he said.
"You went to attend a ghost party and actually brought your own food?"
Professor Snape, who had always been confident of victory, showed a trace of surprise on his face.
"We—"
"Silence!"
Professor Snape suddenly turned his gaze to Neville. "Mr. Longbottom, tell me, what exactly is going on here?"
He didn't listen to Harry and Hermione's explanations because he could see these two were too cunning.
Not to mention Sherlock was there to cover for them.
But Neville was different.
Lockhart wasn't the only one who thought Neville was a sheep that had wandered into a pride of lions.
Any professor who knew Neville even slightly had the same thought.
"Be-because—"
Meeting Professor Snape's sinister gaze, Neville couldn't help but shudder.
Actually, he had always had a secret in his heart.
The thing he feared most in this world was none other than Professor Severus Snape!
So, when Professor Snape questioned him, he could barely speak properly, stammering:
"Sher-Sherlock said before we went to attend—he said—"
"Said what?"
"He told us to bring food!"
Neville finally managed to get the sentence out.
Professor Snape whipped his head around to look at Sherlock.
The latter shrugged. "See, dear Professor Snape, you're not the only one who could think of that."
Snape: (╬°Д°)
Watching Sherlock brazenly show off right in front of him, Snape was furious.
But before he could explode, Dumbledore sensed something was wrong and spoke first:
"Argus, Professor Sprout has recently acquired some Mandrakes. Once they mature, we can brew a potion to bring Mrs. Norris back to life. Severus, we'll need to trouble you to—"
"I'll brew it!"
Lockhart interrupted eagerly. "I must have brewed it a hundred times. I could brew Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"
"If I may say so."
Lockhart's words successfully diverted Snape's attention, who looked at Lockhart coldly, his gaze filled with undisguised disgust.
"I believe I am the Potions teacher at this school."
Silence.
A long silence.
"Well, I mean, I could help—"
"I don't need your help."
"Well, all right then."
Snape dropped these words and turned his gaze back to Harry.
Harry's heart sank.
'No way, even after all this, he still hasn't forgotten about me!'
"Headmaster, my opinion is that we should revoke some of the privileges Mr. Potter currently enjoys."
Just as Harry had thought, after mocking Lockhart, Snape refocused his attention on Harry.
"The savior of the wizarding world should not be different from other students. I personally think it would be best to remove him from the Gryffindor Quidditch team until his attitude improves."
Professor McGonagall had remained silent throughout.
Because neither the dark magic that could petrify cats nor the potion that could reverse this condition were in her area of expertise.
But when she heard Snape suggest removing Harry from the Quidditch team, she finally couldn't hold back.
"Severus! This cat wasn't hit in the head by a broomstick—there's no reason to stop the boy from playing!"
Professor McGonagall's voice was so stern that even Sherlock felt somewhat surprised.
Clearly, Professor McGonagall's feelings for Quidditch ran deep.
Dumbledore looked at Harry with an inquiring gaze.
Facing those bright blue eyes, Harry suddenly felt completely transparent. He couldn't help but look toward Sherlock.
'As long as I'm with Sherlock, I'm not afraid of anything!'
Perhaps sensing Harry's gaze, Dumbledore looked toward Sherlock and asked once again.
"Sherlock, what do you think?"
Why ask him again?
Everyone looked at Dumbledore in confusion. This phrase was becoming his catchphrase, wasn't it?
"Presumption of innocence."
Sherlock said simply. "As long as guilt isn't proven, one is innocent."
Dumbledore nodded. "I agree with Minerva and Sherlock's view, Severus."
At this moment, Snape appeared extremely annoyed.
"Headmaster, you're being far too indulgent with these two students! Neither the so-called great detective nor the savior of the wizarding world should be exempt from consequences!"
Professor McGonagall was also angry. "Severus, hasn't Albus made it clear enough? There's no evidence that Harry did anything wrong!"
"I'm referring to privileges—their privileges should be revoked!"
"Severus," Dumbledore said with a calm expression, "I am the headmaster."
"Dumbledore, you'll regret this!"
Bang!
After saying this, Snape actually rose angrily and stormed out.
The remaining people looked at each other, seemingly not expecting Snape to react so intensely.
Filch was even more bewildered. 'Wait, shouldn't I be the angriest one here?'
Although he did indeed have a good relationship with Professor Snape, Mrs. Norris was his!
Why are you so worked up?!
Dumbledore seemed not to have expected things to turn out this way either. He was briefly stunned, then shook his head gently and looked at the four young wizards.
"You may go."
Professor McGonagall looked deeply at Sherlock, as if wanting to say something, but ultimately said nothing.
The four left Lockhart's office, none of them speaking.
Harry, Hermione, and Neville followed closely behind Sherlock.
Originally, they thought Sherlock would take them to the Gryffindor common room, but unexpectedly, Sherlock led them straight to the fourth floor.
In front of an empty classroom, Sherlock stopped and pushed the door open.
Seeing how familiar Sherlock was with this route, the three couldn't help but exchange glances.
'Why are you so practiced at this!
How many times have you been here?'
The four entered the empty classroom, and Hermione quietly closed the door.
Sherlock slightly narrowed his gray eyes, looking at his three companions' faces in the darkness.
"So, Harry, you heard that voice again?"
"I knew it!"
Hearing Sherlock's words, Harry immediately said excitedly, "You must know why I went there!"
Hermione and Neville looked at each other.
After a moment, Neville was still confused, but Hermione had figured it out. "Sherlock, Harry, you're keeping secrets from me again!"
From Sherlock's use of "again," she knew Harry had already told Sherlock about this before.
'It was me, I was first—whether it was getting to know Sherlock or solving cases with him.
But why has it become like this?'
"Don't worry about these details."
Sherlock waved his hand and asked, "What did you hear this time? Still about tearing you apart?"
Harry nodded repeatedly, then told them everything he had heard in one breath.
"...tear you...rip you apart...kill you—"
"—so hungry...for so long—"
"—time to kill—"
"I smell blood...I smell blood!"
After getting all this out, Harry took a long breath.
Just now, when he heard this voice, Hermione and Neville had both looked surprised.
But he had completely ignored them and ran wildly in the direction of the voice, finally arriving at the third-floor corridor and witnessing that scene.
"Sherlock, should I have told them about the voice I heard?"
"Don't!"
Seeing Neville's expression, all three looked at him.
Neville rarely took the initiative to express opinions, but he raised his hand weakly and said.
"Gran says that seeing things others can't see and hearing things others can't hear are never good signs."
"Is that so?"
Sherlock's gray eyes sparkled.
Neville's words reminded him of Thestrals.
'Not a good sign in the wizarding world?'
"Sherlock, what do you think is going on?"
Harry said urgently, "The whole thing is very strange. What about the writing on the wall? The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir beware, the petrified Mrs. Norris—what's going on?"
"Calm down, my friend."
Sherlock's voice seemed to have a magical power that immediately restored the agitated Harry to calmness.
"First, please tell me, where did Ginny go?"
"Let me answer this time, Sherlock."
Since Harry and Neville were both emotional, Hermione volunteered.
Sherlock nodded and made a "please" gesture.
Hermione began, "Just as you predicted, the ghost party was indeed unsuitable for us—no, it should be said it was terrible!"
As if recalling that scene, Hermione, Harry, and Neville all shuddered.
"There were hundreds of ghosts there, making you shiver with cold! They did prepare food for us, but it wasn't meant for humans. Great chunks of rotting meat, charcoal-burned cake, maggot-filled haggis, moldy cheese..."
"Hermione, that's enough, stop talking."
Harry quickly stopped Hermione. Tonight's experiences had already been bad enough; he really didn't want to relive that scene.
Neville beside him nodded with lingering fear.
Hermione sighed, "Anyway, the place felt terrible. The Bloody Baron, Peeves, Moaning Myrtle... Nearly Headless Nick even asked if we were enjoying ourselves. Thank goodness Sherlock had us bring food, or we would have faced being both cold and hungry."
At this point, Hermione looked at Sherlock with increasingly gentle eyes.
She paused and continued.
"But even so, we couldn't stand it anymore, so we finally decided to leave early."
"A wise decision."
Sherlock asked more questions about what they had seen and heard at the deathday party.
It could only be said that for Nearly Headless Nick, this deathday party had become a tragedy.
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