Ever since Mrs. Norris was attacked, Hogwarts hadn't seen any other victims for quite some time. Filch, however, hadn't given up and persistently tried to find the culprit, even coming to consult Sherlock several times during this period.
Yet time eventually diluted everything.
Under these circumstances, the heat surrounding the Chamber of Secrets gradually died down.
Hogwarts. A History was returned to the library by the young wizards one after another.
It was another Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
This time, Professor Lockhart had Neville play the role of a werewolf.
For Neville, this was quite a challenge.
Because Lockhart not only required him to imitate a werewolf's howling but also to display that reluctant, submissive emotion when facing an aggressor.
Fortunately, Lockhart was very satisfied with Neville's performance.
"Well done, Neville, continue! That's so realistic!
Everyone watch carefully—this is exactly how I held it down with one hand while pressing my wand against its throat with the other...
Very good, now it's your turn to say your lines!"
Neville tried hard to recall the content of Wandering with Werewolves and said in a weak voice.
"Please—don't—"
"Excellent!"
Lockhart was obviously very pleased with Neville's meek performance and continued demonstrating his heroic pose to everyone.
"Then I relaxed my grip and used my remaining strength to cast the extremely complex Homorphus Charm.
It began moaning loudly—Neville, keep howling, make your voice even higher!"
Even though the entire class had grown accustomed to Lockhart's unique teaching methods, they still found this scene unbearable to watch.
Everyone looked at Neville with sympathetic expressions.
What is a hero?
This is it!
To ensure everyone could learn something truly useful in such a short time, Neville Longbottom had made a tremendous sacrifice!
"Finally, the hair on its body disappeared, its fangs retracted, and it turned back into a human.
See, it's that simple and effective.
Another village will forever remember me as their hero because I freed them from the terror of monthly werewolf attacks."
The whole class applauded enthusiastically, and Professor Lockhart generously awarded Neville thirty points.
Then came the practical lesson.
Of course, he couldn't produce an actual werewolf, so he had to use a Boggart instead.
Even so, the students were extremely excited.
For them, this was the essence of Defense Against the Dark Arts!
Lockhart taught the young wizards to use the Sleeping Charm and kicking techniques to drive away this magical creature, and everyone had a great time.
When the bell rang for the end of class, Professor Lockhart stopped the reluctant students and casually assigned homework.
"Write a poem about my triumph over the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! The best one will receive several copies of Magical Me with the author's personal signature!"
When the students gradually left the classroom, Professor Lockhart kept Harry behind alone.
This made Harry somewhat nervous—surely, he didn't want him to help write fan letters again?
But unexpectedly, Lockhart asked about Quidditch.
"Harry, tomorrow is the first Quidditch match of the season, isn't it?"
"Yes, professor."
"If I remember correctly, Gryffindor versus Slytherin?"
"Yes, professor."
"I hear you're quite an excellent player, is that right?"
"Well—er, no," Harry almost admitted it automatically but quickly said, "I'm just lucky. Gryffindor happened to need a Seeker, so I joined the house team—"
"How modest! Actually, I was a Seeker too back in my day. They wanted me to try out for the national team, but I preferred to devote my life to eliminating the Dark forces."
"Is—is that so?"
"Of course! If you feel you need some private coaching, feel free to come to me. I'm always happy to pass on my experience to players whose abilities aren't quite up to par yet."
When Harry told his friends about this, Ron immediately said disdainfully.
"What a joke! You might as well believe I'm direct descendant of Merlin!"
"Ronald, why don't you believe Professor Lockhart even now?"
"Please, Hermione, if something like that really happened, with Lockhart's personality, he would definitely write it into his books, okay?"
"Harry, don't listen to him. Didn't you say last time that the method Professor Lockhart taught you for dealing with Colin worked very well? Why don't you go ask him this time too?"
The method Lockhart had taught Harry last time was indeed useful.
After practicing according to his celebrity-and-fan theory, Colin Creevey, though still Harry's enthusiastic fan, truly no longer caused Harry the same trouble as before.
But even so, Harry felt this matter needed careful consideration.
As the saying goes, when in doubt, ask Sherlock.
But when he habitually looked for Sherlock, he found that he wasn't with Hermione and Ron.
"Where's Sherlock?"
"He said in class that he thought of something and ran off as soon as class ended."
"I see..." Harry couldn't help but show a disappointed expression.
Seeing this, Hermione coaxed. "Harry, since Professor Lockhart said so, he must be confident about this aspect. I still think you should go ask him."
Ron: "I don't think so."
Encouraged by Hermione, Harry still went to find him with a try-it-and-see attitude.
After all, the current Slytherin team possessed seven Nimbus 2001s, and he really hoped Lockhart could give some constructive advice.
When Lockhart saw that Harry had actually come to find him, he was extremely excited.
"Perfect timing, Harry! You've asked the right person—I once used a 'Hanging Golden Bell Dive' to deliver the killing blow against the Hungarian Horntail team's Seeker in the Wagga Wagga League!"
"Mm-hmm."
"Listen, the key to dealing with small fry like Malfoy is aura!"
"Mm-hmm."
Hearing this, Harry focused his attention, while Lockhart drew his wand and began gesturing in the air.
"First, when doing backflips on your broomstick, remember to toss your charming messy hair, because the screaming from the stands will make the Golden Snitch throw itself into your arms!"
"Huh?"
Harry's eyes widened, vaguely sensing something was wrong.
But Lockhart lowered his voice at this moment and said mysteriously.
"Second, apply some Felix Felicis to your broomstick handle—oh no, I mean anti-slip potion! When I was competing against the Vampire team back in the day—"
He was speaking when suddenly interrupted by thunder outside the window.
"Er—Merlin's beard! The essence of rainy-day combat is—you need to shout 'Lockhart must win!' when diving!
Because of the blurred vision, Malfoy will definitely be startled by you. Remember, momentum is key!"
An hour later, Harry left Lockhart's office with a stiff expression.
"I'm really stupid, truly."
Returning to the common room, Harry raised his lifeless eyes to his two friends and said.
"I only knew that Professor Lockhart liked to boast about his adventure stories. I didn't know he was the same way about Quidditch."
After hearing Harry recount Lockhart's experience sharing, Ron burst into laughter, slapping the table.
"Hermione, do you still want to speak up for Lockhart?"
Hermione hesitated for a moment. "Actually, he was just giving advice in his own way. Perhaps when he does these things, they really are effective—it's just not suitable for Harry..."
"That's right, at least the Felix Felicis idea wasn't bad—"
"Don't talk nonsense!"
Hermione said seriously, "Harry, Felix Felicis is strictly forbidden in competitions. If you're caught using it, you could be banned for life. You mustn't do anything foolish!"
"I know. When Lockhart mentioned Felix Felicis, it should have been a slip of the tongue. Later he also said it was actually anti-slip potion."
"Heh, I think his slip of the tongue revealed his true thoughts. Fine, fine, I won't say anymore—"
Seeing both Harry and Hermione glaring at him angrily, Ron wisely backed down and changed the subject.
"Hermione, what has Sherlock been up to lately? Why is he always nowhere to be found?"
"I don't know either. Every time he says he's thought of something, then he can't be found."
Ron laughed self-deprecatingly. "At least he tells you before he leaves—tell me, he wouldn't miss even Harry's match, would he?"
"Impossible!"
Hermione said with certainty.
"Absolutely impossible!"
Harry needless to say, his eyes were as firm as if he were about to join the Party.
Saturday morning arrived as scheduled.
Harry woke up very early. When he opened his eyes, it wasn't even light yet.
Once awake, he couldn't fall back asleep and just lay there staring at the ceiling.
"I can sense that you're very nervous right now."
"Sherlock!"
When the familiar voice sounded, Harry turned his head in surprise.
He saw a pair of gray eyes sparkling in the dim light.
Sherlock had gone to the Forbidden Forest again last night, and Harry didn't even know when he had returned.
"When—when did you wake up?"
"A bit earlier than you."
Harry nodded, suddenly remembering something. "Didn't you go for morning training today?"
"Not today."
Harry smiled.
Although no reason was given, he knew that Sherlock must have done it for his sake.
He continued quietly looking at the ceiling, and Sherlock said nothing either.
When the sky brightened a bit more, Harry suddenly spoke. "Sherlock, if we lose—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
At this moment, his mind was full of Nimbus 2001s.
The team he was about to face all rode the fastest flying broomsticks money could buy.
Could they win?
"I know what you're worried about."
Sherlock's voice sounded again, but this time he even sat up.
"In fact, the gap between the Nimbus 2001 and Nimbus 2000 is much smaller than you imagine. Here."
Frantically catching the roll of parchment Sherlock threw to him, Harry was stunned and quickly read it by the morning light.
"In the development history of flying broomsticks, the Nimbus series is considered one of the best flying broomsticks. It is produced by the Nimbus Flying Broomstick Company, established in 1967.
The Nimbus series was a major advancement in broomstick history. The original model, Nimbus 1000, could reach speeds of 100 miles per hour, could turn 360 degrees on the spot, and had very reliable performance.
Later models (1001, 1500, 1700) had similar functions to the Nimbus 1000, until the Nimbus 2000 came out with significant improvements.
The birth of the Nimbus 2000 was considered a milestone event in flying broomsticks. It has a smooth, shiny appearance, with a rosewood handle and straight, neat twigs at the tail end.
Everyone thought the Nimbus Flying Broomstick Company would rely on the Nimbus 2000 for quite some time, but unexpectedly they released the Nimbus 2001 the following year.
As an upgraded version of the Nimbus 2000, its flying ability became even stronger.
Performance gap comparison between Nimbus 2000 and Nimbus 2001.
Speed increased by approximately 5%, stability increased by approximately 3%, price increased by 30%—"
After quickly browsing through the parchment Sherlock handed him, Harry looked at Sherlock in confusion.
"Sherlock, this is—"
"See? The biggest improvement the Nimbus 2001 has over the Nimbus 2000 is actually the price."
Sherlock said in a mocking tone.
"Only in situations where data is pursued to the extreme does one percent equal complete dominance.
In real competition, the difference between the two is almost negligible.
Of course, compared to other models of flying broomsticks, the Nimbus 2001's improvement is indeed significant.
But—"
Sherlock's gray eyes stared intently at Harry. "If you want to defeat Slytherin, abandon unnecessary thoughts and put all your energy into the game. That's the only thing you need to do."
Being stared at by Sherlock, Harry's face couldn't help but redden.
"I know, but—"
"There are no buts. As long as the gap between others isn't so large as to be hopeless, then in Quidditch matches, focusing on the Seeker is enough."
Sherlock spoke again, in an unquestionable tone.
"A person must rely on themselves."
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