Compared to Harry's complex attitude toward Professor Snape, Snape's attitude toward Harry was very simple and clear: consistent disgust as always.
Finding fault to deduct points and making sarcastic remarks were routine operations. It was no exaggeration to say that now, every time he saw Harry, the muscles at the corner of his thin lips would twitch unpleasantly. Sometimes he would keep flexing his fingers, as if he couldn't wait to wrap them around Harry's throat.
If it had been before, Harry might have felt confused. But now his feelings were even more complicated. One could only say everyone had it tough including Severus Snape.
When Professor Lupin returned from his short leave, during a private lesson with Sherlock and Harry, he pointed out that neither of them needed to continue learning to resist Dementors and practicing the Patronus Charm.
"Sherlock can now produce a complete Patronus." The pale Professor Lupin looked at Sherlock with eyes full of admiration. "Apart from Dumbledore and Voldemort, I don't think there's anyone more talented than you."
After saying this, he turned to Harry, "You too, Harry."
"But my Patronus is still unclear."
Harry thought Professor Lupin was just comforting him and said somewhat dejectedly.
"No, Harry, your problem isn't with the Patronus Charm itself." Professor Lupin gently patted Harry's head. "Your Patronus doesn't have a clear form yet because you haven't seen your inner self clearly."
"See my inner self?"
"Yes! Every Patronus is unique because each person's personality and inner world are different, and the emotions they express are different. Most known wizards' Patronuses take the form of ordinary animals, but a few wizards have Patronuses in the form of magical creatures like dragons, Thestrals, or phoenixes. Even more rarely, some wizards' Patronuses are extinct creatures, like mammoths. Your understanding of the Patronus Charm is actually on par with Sherlock's, but the problem is you haven't seen your inner self clearly."
Harry panicked immediately: "But—how can I do that?"
Seeing one's inner self sounded too difficult.
"Don't worry, Harry. I believe when the time comes, you'll definitely be able to conjure a complete Patronus." Lupin looked at Sherlock again, his eyes showing more amusement. "Albus just came to see me, hoping I can continue as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher next year. It seems Voldemort's curse has been lifted?"
"That's great!" Hearing this news, Harry exclaimed excitedly. "Everyone will be so happy, Professor. You're our best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"
"Thank you, Harry. For me, teaching you all is truly a pleasant thing."
Just then, Sherlock rather inopportunely poured cold water on the moment: "Until the next school year officially begins, anything is possible—don't pop the champagne at halftime."
Harry and Lupin exchanged glances and both sighed. No helping it—that was just Sherlock being Sherlock.
"Let's change the subject. Um—Sirius had an owl deliver a gift to me." Professor Lupin hesitated, then took something from his drawer and showed it to Sherlock and Harry. "He thought this gift was very suitable for me."
It was a dress—noble, elegant, and graceful. Even someone with limited exposure like Harry could tell from the material and workmanship that this dress was worth a fortune. If one could wear it in public, it would definitely make its owner the brightest star at any event.
The only problem was—it was women's clothing.
Harry tried hard not to laugh: "It looks like he's really happy."
"Yes, as long as he's happy." Lupin looked up, his gaze becoming deep and distant. "As long as they're happy—"
Watching this scene, Sherlock's eyes flickered. Good—another new clue obtained.
Just like that, the last day of the term, and the last day of the school year, finally arrived. Exam results were announced on schedule.
Hermione unsurprisingly took first place in the year, once again winning the season's top scorer. Sherlock also passed his exams with very high marks. This year, the Lion King was terrifyingly strong with no weaknesses.
Harry and Ron also passed all their exams. This was extremely surprising to Harry—he actually passed Potions? He clearly felt his performance during the Potions exam was terrible, and Snape's actions seemed like he was giving him a zero.
"Headmaster Dumbledore must have intervened, which is why Snape couldn't deliberately fail you." Ron analyzed in a seemingly proper manner, then looked at Sherlock. "What do you think, Sherlock?"
Sherlock was silent for a moment before saying, "You've figured out Snape."
Hermione beside them couldn't help it and burst into laughter.
Ron immediately glared at her: "Hermione!"
"Sorry, haha—I thought of something happy—hahaha!"
Perhaps because she got good grades in the final exams, or perhaps because she had decided to give up Muggle Studies and Divination, Hermione was as happy as a child—well, she was a child.
She forcibly suppressed her laughter and moved closer to Sherlock, lowering her voice: "I returned the Time-Turner to Professor McGonagall. I'll have a normal schedule next year—you'll attend classes with me, right?"
"If you insist."
"I insist."
"Alright then."
Seeing Sherlock nod in agreement, Hermione became even happier.
Even happier than Hermione were Ron's three brothers. Fred and George finally passed some of their O.W.L.s, so they wouldn't be without books to read in sixth year. They both earned certificates in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, though both failed Potions.
However, even twins couldn't guarantee all their courses would progress identically. Herbology was the only subject George Weasley passed that Fred Weasley didn't. Transfiguration was the only subject Fred Weasley passed that George Weasley didn't.
As for model student Percy, he got the high scores he desired on his N.E.W.T.s. Gemma and Penelope also performed well. In Deputy Headmistress McGonagall's words, they'd have no problem entering the Ministry of Magic.
Gryffindor House also won the House Cup for the third consecutive year, thanks to top scorer Hermione and their excellent performance in the Quidditch Cup.
The end-of-term feast was once again held amid red and gold decorations. The Gryffindor table was the liveliest, with everyone celebrating.
An unprecedented smile bloomed on Professor McGonagall's face. Under the leadership of the new Lion King and the Boy Who Lived, Gryffindor had won three consecutive House Cups. She had a vague premonition that the Gryffindor dynasty seemed to have arrived.
Compared to Professor McGonagall, the old Lion King, Snape the old Snake King looked like he'd eaten Bezoar. Since Sherlock and Harry's year entered school, Slytherin had lost their seven-year winning streak. This year, they didn't even win the Quidditch Cup.
Potter was truly detestable!
Compared to Gryffindor and Slytherin, Ravenclaw was much more laid-back. Hufflepuff even more so—both houses cheered and celebrated together for Gryffindor.
Penelope, who had drunk a bit, simply ran to the Gryffindor table and gave Percy a kiss in front of everyone, causing everyone to cheer.
Harry also temporarily forgot about Professor Snape. He ate, drank, and laughed with everyone.
"Sherlock, tomorrow—"
Harry was about to share his feelings with his good friend when he suddenly realized Sherlock, who had been sitting beside him, was gone.
"Sherlock, Sherlock, where is he?"
"Wasn't he just—where did he go?" Ron also noticed, and both looked at Hermione.
"Why are you looking at me?" Hermione said irritably, "If Sherlock wants to leave without anyone noticing, who could stop him?"
"That's true..." Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"Yeah, this isn't the first time this has happened. No need to make a fuss."
Seeing Hermione still looking annoyed, Ron couldn't help but laugh, "Hermione, you said yourself he can't be stopped. Why are you angry?"
"I'm angry at myself!"
Seeing Hermione's expression, Ron shrugged and quietly said to Harry beside him, "See, mate, this is women! They get angry for no reason at all. You'd better be careful in the future."
Harry: "..."
"Ron-ald! I'm going to tell Mum what you said."
"Don't, Ginny! I was just joking, really, just joking!"
The exchange between Ron and Ginny made Hermione feel even more irritated. She indeed hadn't noticed when Sherlock left. As she told Ron, if Sherlock deliberately didn't want to be noticed, she couldn't stop him at all.
But that was exactly why she was angry! Because after Sherlock disappeared, she instinctively looked toward the Slytherin table. Sure enough, Gemma Farley, who should have been surrounded by admirers, wasn't there.
She immediately realized what had happened. Damn it, those two had snuck off again!
She said "again" because at the Halloween feast in second year, the two had already snuck off once. Though that time she had gone to the Deathday Party and wasn't present.
She never expected them to repeat this right under her nose.
And she was so slow to notice.
Hermione knew clearly that the two had probably run off to the Room of Requirement. If she went to the eighth floor now, there was a good chance she could catch them when they came out.
But what would be the point? Since Sherlock deliberately left without her noticing, if she did this, wouldn't she just be annoying?
Forget it. After tonight, Gemma would graduate anyway. She also said she was going to Romania for further study, so at least for the next four years of school, she wouldn't see her.
Tonight, just tonight, she'd let Sherlock spend time with her.
With Sherlock's personality, nothing would happen between them.
Hermione thought very magnanimously.
Just as Hermione deduced, Sherlock and Gemma were indeed alone together in the Room of Requirement at that moment.
Sherlock held a butterbeer, leaning against a bookshelf. Gemma stood not far from him, holding a wine glass. This had been arranged between them.
Before tonight's feast, Gemma had Watson deliver her invitation to Sherlock. In the past, Sherlock definitely wouldn't have agreed. But times had changed—Gemma was no longer simply the Slytherin prefect, Head girl, or caring older sister figure to Sherlock.
She was also his friend.
As a friend's invitation, Sherlock naturally kept the appointment.
"Do you think there's a possibility that Miss Granger is waiting for us at the door right now?"
"She won't."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Gemma swirled the wine glass in her hand and chuckled, "So certain?"
"I understand Hermione very well. She won't—and has no reason to do such a thing."
"You're certainly different with Miss Granger than with others."
"No different," Sherlock said, looking at Gemma. "But you—you seem different from usual today."
"Oh, why don't you tell me—what's different?"
Gemma tilted her head to look at Sherlock.
"You're wearing lipstick," Sherlock said straightforwardly. "You never wore lipstick before."
Gemma laughed. She was already beautiful, and this smile seemed to light up the entire room.
"I wanted to change my look. It seems you noticed."
"Obviously."
"So—what do you think?"
"The effect is good. Otherwise, your mouth looks too small."
Gemma laughed a second time.
"No, no, no, it's not small at all."
"Is that so?" Sherlock considered for three seconds. "Big and small are relative concepts. I was just observing from my perspective. Perhaps from your point of view, it's indeed not small."
"Let's talk about mouths later. Let's discuss other things first—after this summer, I'll be heading to the dragon sanctuary in Romania."
Gemma said softly, her fingertips unconsciously twirling the chestnut hair falling on her shoulders. Her voice was particularly clear in the spacious Room of Requirement.
The light danced on her delicate features, coating her with a layer of gentle glow.
Sherlock didn't immediately respond, just watched her, seeming to wait for more, or perhaps just out of habitual observation.
Just then, Gemma suddenly stood up and walked with light steps to stand before Sherlock.
Sherlock caught a faint, fresh fragrance from her.
Gemma's gaze was focused, her blue eyes containing complex emotions that Sherlock couldn't fully decode for the moment. There was faint melancholy about their impending separation, and even more, a nearly resolute tenderness.
"Remember the three-year agreement I mentioned before?"
Sherlock nodded without hesitation.
"After obtaining the highest dragon-taming qualifications, I'll return to the British Ministry of Magic. It's just that three years is neither long nor short. So, before I leave, I want to leave a special memento."
Gemma said softly, with a hint of barely perceptible nervousness. But then her tone changed to one that brooked no refusal: "Sherlock, turn around and close your eyes."
Sherlock's eyebrow moved subtly. This wasn't the first time Gemma had made such a request. But the atmosphere at this moment was subtly different from before.
However, based on his long-term observation of her behavior and recognition of their friendship, Sherlock didn't question or refuse. He turned around as told and closed those sharp gray eyes.
The next moment, Gemma pulled out a sharp pair of scissors!
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