The Leaky Cauldron, Room 12.
Under Percy Weasley's surprised gaze, Sherlock asked.
"Ron said Scabbers' previous owner was you. Do you remember when it became your pet?"
"Scabbers..."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Percy paused in his badge-polishing, as if lost in distant memories. After a moment, he began.
"I gave it to Ron three years ago, but it had already been my pet since my first year."
"First year, so seven years ago—"
Sherlock pondered briefly, then asked, "Where did you get it? Also, in Diagon Alley?"
"Get? No, no, no!"
Percy shook his head repeatedly. "Dad and Mum rarely buy us pets specifically. Most of our pets are inherited from our older brothers. Hermes was only bought for me after I was elected prefect in fifth year."
Speaking of this, Percy couldn't help but puff out his chest again.
However, he immediately realized he was no longer a prefect—that Prefect badge had changed to Head Boy and was now in his own hands.
He coughed and continued.
"When I hadn't started school yet, Scabbers was already at our house.
I was probably only four or five then. As for how it came to our house—sorry, it's been too long, I can't remember clearly—though even if you asked my parents, you'd probably get the same answer.
By the way, why are you suddenly asking about this?"
Percy asked curiously.
"Ron said that ever since you returned from Egypt, Scabbers hasn't been well."
"Mm, it has looked listless lately."
Although Percy had spent more time with Scabbers than Ron, he wasn't as anxious as Ron. He said calmly.
"Probably nearing the end of its lifespan. For a rat to live this long, it's already quite remarkable."
"The people at the magical creatures shop said the same thing."
"If it really dies, then we'll consider getting another pet."
Percy said earnestly, "Sherlock, you're good friends with Ron. Please advise him when you have time.
Tell him not to follow Fred and George around. Even if he can't become Head Boy, becoming a prefect would be good—no wait, with you and Harry in your year, it probably wouldn't be his turn anyway. Never mind, just as long as he doesn't cause trouble—"
Sherlock patiently listened to Percy's words, thanking him for providing the information.
Before leaving, he kindly reminded. "I suggest you keep an eye on your Head Boy badge. Someone might target it later."
"What?"
Hearing Sherlock's warning, Percy's eyes suddenly narrowed.
The evening dinner was very pleasant.
The pub owner, Tom, was very accommodating and pushed three tables together in the main hall.
The Weasley family of six and Peasegood occupied two tables, while Sherlock, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny sat at one table.
During the meal, Sherlock found an opportunity to ask the Weasley couple and got the same answer as Percy—Scabbers had been at their house for a long time and had even come on its own.
"Probably couldn't find food outside," said Mr. Weasley, his face flushed from drinking. Like Percy, he didn't pay much attention to the matter. "Didn't Ron buy rat tonic? If it really doesn't make it, we'll consider getting him another pet—though this year's expenses haven't been small, let's not talk about this. Come on, Arnold, let's have a toast!"
"Sorry, Arthur."
Peasegood said seriously, "I have to drive later, so I can't drink."
"But you're a wizard!"
Mr. Weasley looked at him in surprise.
"Don't drink and drive, don't drive and drink."
Peasegood maintained his position. "Alcohol affects wizards too. I'm not a Gryffindor—I don't want to cause trouble."
"Alright, alright."
Mr. Weasley shook his head helplessly and drained his glass.
Sherlock watched this scene thoughtfully.
Very good, another stereotype reinforced.
Gryffindors are a bunch of reckless troublemakers.
After dinner ended, Peasegood drove Sherlock, Harry, and Hermione back.
He first dropped Sherlock and Harry off at home.
"Oh, isn't that Hermione?"
When Mr. and Mrs. Holmes came out to help Sherlock and Harry with their luggage, they were surprised and delighted to see Hermione with Sherlock and Harry.
"Dear, why didn't you pay attention to sun protection!" Mrs. Holmes took Hermione's hand, saying somewhat reproachfully, "Girls don't look good when tanned!"
"It's alright, Mrs. Holmes."
Hermione glanced at Sherlock imperceptibly, then smiled and spoke.
"I did this sunbathing intentionally. I just need to rest for a while to recover—my skin recovers very well. This isn't the first time."
"That's good then."
Mrs. Holmes nodded repeatedly. "Come in quickly. Mr. Peasegood has worked hard too—please come in and have some hot tea!"
"Thank you for your hospitality, but I have other matters to attend to."
Peasegood shook his head. "Delivering them here completes my task. You should rest early. Miss Granger, let's go!"
"Wait, isn't Hermione staying here?"
Seeing Hermione about to leave with Peasegood, Mrs. Holmes protested. "It's so late, where else would you go? Just stay here!"
Mr. Holmes looked at his wife in surprise.
"Aunt, my parents are waiting at King's Cross Station."
Hermione was also stunned. She hadn't expected Sherlock's mother to say such a thing, and said with a completely red face.
However, because her skin was tanned, it wasn't visible.
"I see..."
Mrs. Holmes showed regret, but after all, Hermione wasn't Harry or Ron—having a young girl stay at their house really wouldn't be appropriate.
She had indeed been too hasty just now.
Sigh, all for her sons!
Being a mother really breaks one's heart!
Finally, the group watched Peasegood and Hermione leave in the night.
Shortly after, Hermione called to report that she had safely arrived at King's Cross Station.
After reporting her safety, she was sent by Mrs. Granger to pack her luggage, while Mrs. Granger herself started a long phone conversation with Mrs. Holmes.
"Sherlock, what's that?"
Sherlock and Harry were also packing their luggage.
When Harry saw Sherlock stuff a flat silver bottle into his suitcase, he looked puzzled. "Did you make some new potion?"
"No, that's my hip flask with brandy inside."
Sherlock smiled and waved the flat flask in his hand. "As long as I carry this thing, it can remind me that I'm a wizard from the Muggle world."
"Ah—"
Harry was stunned, not quite understanding why Sherlock would do this.
After a moment, he said somewhat hesitantly, "Sherlock, do you also think I shouldn't go to Hogsmeade?"
"From a personal safety perspective, going there wouldn't be a good choice."
Hearing even his best friend say this, Harry felt somewhat dejected, but Sherlock immediately changed direction.
"However, thinking about it differently, this could also be an opportunity."
"Opportunity?" Harry's eyes widened suddenly.
"The Ministry still has no trace of Black, and we all know his target is you.
Think about it, my friend—if you were Black, when you learned that your target was leaving the heavily guarded Hogwarts castle, well, actually, considering what happened in the past two years, I have reservations about that point.
When you learned, your target was coming to a village with relatively relaxed defenses compared to Hogwarts, what would you do?"
"You mean Black would make his move there?"
"Black isn't a fool, my dear Harry. He won't act rashly, but he certainly won't miss such an observation opportunity."
Sherlock snapped his fingers. "So, if we make arrangements in advance, as long as he shows himself, we might be able to catch him through this opportunity."
"Excellent! ＼(≧∇≦)/"
Hearing Sherlock's words, Harry became excited at once.
Although ever since learning that Sirius Black was the one who betrayed his parents, Harry had made up his mind to deal with him personally.
But if they could catch him earlier, that wouldn't be bad either. At least he wouldn't have to live so anxiously afterward.
Seeing Harry like this, Sherlock looked at him with an ambiguous smile. "It seems Hedwig has already returned your Hogsmeade permission form. Did Mrs. Dursley sign it?"
Harry hadn't expected he still couldn't hide anything from Sherlock. He said somewhat embarrassedly, "It was Uncle Vernon. But Sherlock, how did you know? You weren't even here when Hedwig left and returned—"
"Because she's stopped eating cat food lately."
Sherlock said cheerfully, "You once told me that Mrs. Dursley is an excellent cook."
"Cough, cough—"
Harry hadn't expected it to be so simple.
He hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to speak up.
"If there's something else, just say it all at once, Harry."
"How do you know I have more to say?"
"Buddy, your hesitant expression has already written your thoughts on your face," Sherlock shook his head. "Given how well I know you, if I couldn't see even this, it would be rather disappointing."
Harry felt somewhat embarrassed because what he was about to say felt difficult to voice.
He had just felt it was fine to go to Hogsmeade under Black's threat, but now he was starting to feel paranoid again.
However, facing Sherlock's curious expression, he steadied himself and began. "Sherlock, actually today at Flourish and Blotts—"
"You saw an interesting book that made you think of some strange things, right?"
Harry couldn't help but pause. "Sherlock, how did you know—"
"How did I know you made a discovery at the bookstore?"
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