"No one knows how Harry Potter survived when he was attacked by You-Know-Who all those years ago."
Facing questions from his fellow Hufflepuffs Cedric and Hannah, Ernie Macmillan said mysteriously.
"I mean, he was just a baby when it happened. By all rights, he should have been blown to bits, shouldn't he? Don't think that just because he's the wizarding world's savior, he can't be a Dark wizard. Do you know why You-Know-Who wanted to kill Potter when he was still a baby?
It's because he didn't want another Dark Lord to emerge and steal his position!"
His words were so outrageous that Cedric and Hannah couldn't think of how to refute them for a moment.
However, quite a few young wizards who heard this analysis showed thoughtful expressions, and many even nodded slightly.
Seeing this scene, Sherlock muttered.
"You've single-handedly lowered the collective IQ of all of Hufflepuff."
Originally, Professor McGonagall had hoped that when Cedric and Hannah stepped forward, the Hufflepuff students could resolve this issue themselves.
But when she heard Ernie Macmillan spouting nonsense like "Voldemort wanted to kill Harry to prevent a new Dark Lord from being born," she simply couldn't listen anymore.
Professor McGonagall's body trembled with authority as she said sternly.
"Enough, Macmillan!"
Professor McGonagall's authority was something even Peeves feared, let alone these students.
So, despite his great reluctance, Macmillan could only obediently shut his mouth and lower his head silently.
Seeing this, Professor McGonagall stopped paying him any attention and immediately said.
"Prefects, escort your respective house students back to your dormitories. Potter, come with me!"
After saying this, she hesitated for a moment, then turned to Sherlock. "Holmes, you come too."
Neither Sherlock nor Harry was surprised by this. The two quickly followed Professor McGonagall, and after turning a corner, they disappeared from sight.
As soon as their figures vanished, the young wizards who had just returned to school began asking those who had stayed behind what exactly had happened.
The Gryffindor students almost all surrounded Ron, asking questions all at once.
"Ron, what happened? Was someone else attacked?"
"Damn it! Weasley, why did Peeves say Potter killed a student? We live in the same dormitory, so you better explain clearly!"
"Well, I think Harry must have been misunderstood—"
"Everyone shut up and let Weasley talk, or I'll use magic!"
This was the first time Ron had found himself at the center of such attention.
Facing everyone's expectant gazes, a strange sense of satisfaction welled up in his heart.
A peculiar thought appeared in his mind. "If only I could always be treated with this kind of attention!"
However, he also knew that today's treatment wasn't directed at him personally, so he took a deep breath.
"Just before you all arrived, there were new victims at the school—three of them!"
The little lions immediately erupted in uproar.
In just these ten or so days of holiday, something had happened again?
Though surprised, they also secretly breathed a sigh of relief—it seemed not staying at school for the holidays was indeed the right choice!
Especially those young wizards from non-pure-blood backgrounds.
After all, no one knew who the next victim might be.
The most surprised person was Hermione.
She remembered what Sherlock had said when they took the Hogwarts Express home together. "According to Murphy's Law, the more you don't want something to happen, the greater the probability it will occur."
It had actually come true!
At this moment, Hermione didn't know whether she should praise Sherlock for his prophetic abilities.
As Neville's grandmother used to say—good predictions don't come true, but bad ones do.
Indeed, some things just can't bear thinking about.
But on the other side, Harry was in a much worse situation.
Following Professor McGonagall, his mood was heavy, and he kept his head down in silence throughout the journey.
As for Sherlock, after walking for a while, he recognized this as the route to the Gryffindor Head of House's office, so he proactively asked.
"So, Dumbledore still hasn't returned?"
"Holmes, you don't think that just because the headmaster isn't here, I can't handle you two, do you?"
Hearing Sherlock's question, Professor McGonagall immediately frowned.
"Not only am I Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress, but I'm also the Head of Gryffindor House."
"Professor, you're being overly sensitive."
Facing the somewhat bristling Professor McGonagall, Sherlock said calmly, "I was merely making a deduction based on established facts."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Professor McGonagall's furrowed brow relaxed slightly, and she said nothing more.
Harry looked at Sherlock with admiration.
His good friend was as brave as ever.
Fortunately, Sherlock was there to shield him, otherwise he would have had to face Professor McGonagall alone.
Speaking of which, although Dumbledore was the headmaster, Harry felt even more pressure facing Professor McGonagall alone than he did with Dumbledore.
The Gryffindor Head of House's office was on the second floor, so the three quickly reached their destination.
This was Sherlock's first time in Professor McGonagall's office.
Sherlock glanced around the room's interior, and as he had imagined, everything was arranged in perfect order.
Even if he had never met Professor McGonagall, he could deduce some things from this room.
The room's owner had a serious, strict, meticulous personality.
Single for many years, had once had a happy relationship, loved the sport of Quidditch.
Additionally, she kept a tabby cat—this was the only deduction that differed from reality.
Based on his deduction, the conclusion would be at most that this tabby cat was well-behaved and obedient.
However, the truth was that this cat was Professor McGonagall herself, transformed through the advanced Transfiguration technique of becoming an Animagus.
Of course, since everyone at Hogwarts had secrets, and until these secrets showed danger to himself and his friends, Sherlock had no intention of investigating Professor McGonagall's past.
His consideration of these things was purely reflexive.
"As you suspected, Mr. Holmes, Professor Dumbledore still hasn't returned."
Professor McGonagall stared at Sherlock. "If you have something to say, I can pass it along."
"Please urge him to return quickly."
"I've already said he has business to attend to and cannot return immediately," Professor McGonagall took a deep breath. "If you want to say something, you can tell me directly."
"Then please urge him for me."
McGonagall: (눈_눈)
'So, I'm just supposed to be a messenger, is that it?'
McGonagall took a deep breath, suppressing her annoyance, and said to Sherlock and Harry.
"Please sit down, Mr. Holmes, and Mr. Potter."
Sherlock immediately sat down, but Harry nervously began to explain.
"Professor, I swear I didn't—"
"I can't handle this matter, Potter."
Professor McGonagall answered briefly. "Professor Dumbledore isn't here, so I can only act in the headmaster's capacity—now, tell me everything you know."
"But, but—"
"Sit down and speak."
As Harry's voice trembled, Sherlock suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the chair.
His gray eyes gleamed coldly in the candlelight, his mouth curving with half a measure of impatience. "You're shaking like you've been hit with a Pepper-Up Potion charm."
However, after Harry obediently sat down, Sherlock's eyes flickered with an inquisitive light.
"I'm also very curious about what exactly happened—Harry, you need to be detailed, try not to omit any details, because any one of them might help me catch the culprit."
Professor McGonagall watched as one student pressed another into a chair right in front of her, raising an eyebrow, but ultimately didn't speak.
After all, what Sherlock said was indeed what she wanted to say.
Hearing his friend's familiar voice with its confident undertone, Harry's anxious heart gradually settled.
He took a deep breath, nodded, and began to tell everything.
"After dinner today, I went to find Cho to study the Flame-Freezing Charm as usual—"
"Mr. Potter, when you say Cho, you mean Miss Cho Chang from Ravenclaw?"
"Yes, Professor."
"You said 'as usual'—do you mean you've been learning this spell with her this whole time?"
Harry had no choice but to briefly recount how he had received Cho Chang's encouragement before the Quidditch match.
It happened that both he and Cho Chang hadn't gone home for the holidays, and with other students away, it was a good opportunity to study together.
After hearing this, Professor McGonagall had Harry demonstrate the Flame-Freezing Charm on the spot, then nodded.
"Indeed, this is the progress of someone who has studied for some time—Mr. Potter, if you could put the effort, you've shown studying with Miss Chang into Transfiguration class, I think your grades would be much better than they are now."
Hearing Professor McGonagall's pointed hint, Harry's face reddened.
How could it be the same?
Studying magic with a stern, rigid old witch couldn't compare to the pleasure of learning with a beautiful young lady!
Of course, he would never dare say this aloud.
Fortunately, Professor McGonagall didn't dwell too much on this issue and changed the subject.
"Very well, continue."
"After that, I first escorted her back to Ravenclaw Tower, then planned to return to my dormitory.
But on the way back, when I passed an empty classroom, I heard what seemed like movement inside—"
Hearing this, Sherlock was clearly energized.
His previous action of speed-writing with his quill on parchment also stopped.
"What seemed like movement? Was it a definite collision sound? Whispering voices? Or the hissing sound of a wand scraping against potion bottles?"
Harry understood Sherlock's meaning clearly. The so-called "whispering voices" referred to that eerie voice that only he could hear.
He looked toward Sherlock and found that the latter had already smoothly sketched a corridor floor plan on the parchment, with a prominent circle drawn around "empty classroom."
"None of those."
Harry said this with an embarrassed expression.
"I was curious for a moment, so I went to take a look—actually, I shouldn't have gone. If I hadn't been so curious then, maybe this wouldn't have happened."
At this point, Harry's face was full of regret, wishing he could turn back time and change his actions.
Hearing this, Sherlock immediately clasped his hands together to support his chin, asking with great interest.
"So—what did you see?"
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