Sherlock didn't respond to Dumbledore's teasing, because from the moment he entered, his attention had been focused on the tall, gilded perch behind the door.
An ancient-looking bird stood there, lazily preening its tail feathers.
During his previous visits to the headmaster's office, Sherlock hadn't seen it.
However, this old bird's current condition didn't look very good—it looked exactly like a half-plucked turkey.
As it preened its tail feathers, several more feathers fell from its tail.
"Please sit. Would you like to try some new-flavored Fizzing Whizzbees? Honeydukes just sent them this morning."
With a light tap of Dumbledore's wand, an armchair upholstered with deep red velvet slid behind Sherlock.
At the same time, the candies in the silver dish automatically unwrapped and floated up.
Seeing that Sherlock continued staring at the old bird even after sitting down, Dumbledore laughed.
"It's been maintaining this terrible appearance for many days now. I keep telling it to hurry up and get on with it."
"Terrible appearance? Hurry up and get on with it?"
Seeing Dumbledore seemingly casually fold the candy wrapper into a bird with spread wings, Sherlock searched his memory palace for a second and immediately gave the answer.
"So, this is a phoenix?"
"Sherlock, you're always so perceptive."
"Thank you for the compliment."
"Its name is Fawkes. As you've guessed, it's a phoenix, and moreover..."
Dumbledore said this, turning to look at the gilded perch, "it's about time."
If the Weasley twins were here, they would definitely each add a line.
"At this important moment."
"The moment we've all been waiting for."
Unfortunately, they weren't there.
Sherlock naturally wouldn't play the straight man.
However, as if deliberately coordinating with Dumbledore's words, as soon as he finished speaking, the old bird Fawkes suddenly burst into flames.
Not metaphorically—it literally burst into flames.
In just an instant, it became a ball of fire.
Then it let out a terrible cry and disappeared before Sherlock and Dumbledore's eyes.
Only a pile of not-quite-extinguished ashes remained on the floor.
"..."
Sherlock's gaze fixed on the ground.
Soon, a tiny, wrinkled little chick poked its head out from the ashes, shaking the ash from its body.
Just looking at its appearance, it was as ugly as the featherless old bird from before.
"Rebirth."
Sherlock softly uttered this word.
"Exactly, rebirth!
It's unfortunate that you had to see it on its Burning Day, otherwise it's quite beautiful most of the time. covered in magnificent red and gold feathers."
Dumbledore sighed, seeming somewhat regretful, but then he smiled again. "Speaking of which, phoenixes are truly remarkable and fascinating creatures."
He seemed to become interested, carefully explaining to Sherlock.
"They can carry extremely heavy loads, their tears have healing properties, and they're exceptionally loyal pets.
They never harm anyone, eat only herbs, and like Diricawls, can disappear and reappear at will."
"However, their Ministry classification level is XXXX," Sherlock said as if filling in details, "Besides the abilities you just mentioned, their song also has magical power.
As I understand it, wizards generally believe it can inspire courage in the pure of heart and instill fear in the corrupt."
"A beautiful explanation, Sherlock!"
Dumbledore's smile spread across his beard. "If this were a classroom, I would definitely award Gryffindor ten points."
"Let's skip that. A mere ten points wouldn't be enough for one of Professor Snape's classes."
Hearing Sherlock's words, a trace of helplessness flashed across Dumbledore's face.
"Severus is indeed rather hot-tempered, but his intentions are good...
Rather than that, I assume you've come about the Chamber of Secrets legend?"
"Obviously."
Sherlock clasped his hands under his chin, his gray eyes meeting Dumbledore's pale blue ones behind the half-moon spectacles without flinching.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, aren't you going to tell me something?"
"Rather than that, I'm more concerned with how much you know now?"
Hearing that Dumbledore didn't answer directly, Sherlock frowned and likewise didn't answer him, instead throwing out a question of his own.
"It seems you're still not ready to tell me about this matter?"
Before Dumbledore could answer, a portrait on the wall had already shouted. "You shouldn't know about this at all!"
Sherlock turned his head and with just one glance confirmed the speaker's identity.
Next, he raised both eyebrows and spoke rapidly.
"Former Hogwarts Headmaster Armando Dippet. In 'Hogwarts. A History,' you're described as a decisive and responsible headmaster who always showed firmness and fairness when handling important Hogwarts events.
However, judging from your current behavior, this may not be the case. If nothing else, it at least proves that the Chamber isn't a legend, and that the rumors about the Chamber being opened fifty years ago aren't groundless.
So, the question is."
Sherlock's gray eyes stared intently at this headmaster mentioned by Gemma, becoming somewhat aggressive.
"Who was the student you caught and expelled fifty years ago?
Why, when he was already caught, was the Chamber opened again fifty years later?
Was that student you caught... truly Slytherin's heir?"
Both Dumbledore and the portraits on the wall were stunned after hearing Sherlock's forceful triple question.
After a long while, Headmaster Dippet's portrait began shrieking.
"Get out! Get out of here!
Albus, make him leave this office immediately!"
His voice was not only shrill but trembling slightly.
The other portrait frames also began shaking, obviously strongly affected by Sherlock's words.
"Armando, please calm yourself, and everyone else, the same."
Dumbledore's words still carried weight.
As soon as he spoke, all the creaking portrait frames stopped, only Armando Dippet still breathing heavily, his eyes full of fury as he looked at Sherlock.
Dumbledore turned his gaze to Sherlock, asking softly.
"Sherlock, can you tell me why you think this way?"
At this moment, all the portrait faces turned toward Sherlock, as if they too wanted to know the answer to this question.
"Headmaster, I must admit that the portraits in the wizarding world are indeed very magical things."
Sherlock's gaze swept across the portraits on the wall, his voice somewhat low.
"When I first saw your portrait on a Chocolate Frog card last year, I mistakenly thought they were like GIF format images in the Muggle world.
Looking back now, I indeed made an error of empiricism at that time.
Portraits containing the memories of the deceased and moving images in the Muggle world are completely different concepts, however..."
Sherlock's low tone suddenly changed.
"After all, portraits aren't real people. Their emotions and actions are magnified and exaggerated, and under these circumstances, the difficulty of reaching conclusions through observation has been greatly reduced.
However, the process of obtaining information from them is really too simple—so simple that I don't even know how to explain it.
If I must say, it's like me pointing out the color of the nightgown you're wearing."
Dumbledore couldn't help but frown, about to say something, when he heard Sherlock continue.
"Headmaster, I think you should know that this summer Harry and I went to the Potter family home in Godric's Hollow together.
Through his grandparents' portraits, I easily learned that Harry's father once had a close friend.
And that he played a disgraceful role in the deaths of Harry's parents.
This was confirmed by Ron's father.
In other words, my deductions about portraits are completely accurate."
Silence.
A long silence.
All the portraits looked at Sherlock as if seeing a dementor.
The next moment, without even waiting for Dumbledore to speak, they immediately scattered completely, leaving only empty frames on the walls, just like during Sherlock's previous visits to the headmaster's office.
As an elder who had seen and experienced much, Dumbledore was also shocked by this scene today.
After a long while, he smiled bitterly and said.
"Sherlock, this is the first time I've seen them leave voluntarily. It's quite... unnerving..."
"Well, you get used to it after running away a few times."
"..."
Dumbledore was left speechless.
"Really won't try a candy first?"
"It seems the headmaster hasn't learned enough from Dr. Granger. Didn't he try each dental tool on you?"
"Oh, Sherlock, I'll never see a dentist again!"
Hearing Sherlock's words, Dumbledore showed an expression of lingering fear.
It was hard to imagine that a wizard who had lived over a hundred years and was considered the Greatest Wizard of the Age would show such an expression because of Muggle dentists.
You must know that he had once chatted and laughed with dark wizards of Gellert Grindelwald's caliber.
However, Sherlock didn't focus on this point. He just frowned.
"So, you still won't tell me about the Chamber, will you?"
"Sherlock, aren't you the one who most believes in evidence—just a line of writing and a petrified cat cannot prove that the Chamber has been opened."
"I don't understand."
Sherlock looked at Dumbledore and said unceremoniously. "Headmaster, do you really enjoy being a centaur that much?"
"What did you say?"
This time it was Dumbledore who didn't understand.
"I mean, is it fun to be a riddler like the centaurs?
You clearly know about the Chamber, yet you refuse to say anything.
And there's that prophecy about the Boy Who Lived—even now, you still won't tell me everything."
Dumbledore's gaze suddenly contracted. "What did you say?"
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...
born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."
Sherlock recited word for word the prophecy content Dumbledore had told him last time.
Compared to Sherlock's surprising memory, his next words moved Dumbledore even more.
"Obviously, this is definitely not the complete content of the prophecy, otherwise you certainly wouldn't believe in this prophecy so much, so... what exactly are you hiding?"
Dumbledore stared at Sherlock in a daze, unable to speak for a long moment.
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