Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 231 Fifty Years Ago
"It's not just the Ministry of Magic, is it?"

Sherlock sneered, "That 'shrewd and capable' and 'responsible' former headmaster, Armando Dippet, probably thinks the same way, doesn't he?"
That's why you broke Hagrid's wand and kicked him out of school.

To that, I can only say, you can bring it with you when you go to Uganda, so the mountain gorillas can give it a few slaps too.

No sooner had Sherlock finished speaking than the shrill voice from the portrait of Armando Dupette rang out:
"Get him out! Albus, get him out of here!"

At this moment, just as at that moment.

However, last time they "let" him out, but this time they've "driven" him out.

Clearly, Sherlock had been categorized as an unpopular person in the old headmaster's eyes.

"Oh, it seems I was right again."

Sherlock paid no attention to the incompetent and furious old headmaster.

Seeing the old headmaster and his student locked in a tense standoff, even Dumbledore couldn't help but feel a headache coming on, and quickly said:
"Sherlock, let's get back to the topic of the locked room."

"can."

Sure enough, upon hearing this, Sherlock stopped his mockery.

Dumbledore smiled somewhat helplessly, turned around, and opened a black cabinet.

He carefully took out a shallow stone basin, placed it on the table, and then looked at Sherlock with great interest.

Sherlock glanced at it and noticed that the rim of the stone basin had strange carvings, mainly some unfamiliar letters and symbols.

The contents of the basin were very similar to the material of an invisibility cloak, like a piece of bright silver, yet it swirled and spun like liquid.

As for its shape, it resembles ripples on the water's surface in a gentle breeze, and also drifts out like clouds.

Sherlock realized this was a blind spot in his knowledge, so he looked at Dumbledore without saying a word, waiting for him to explain.

“This is called the Pensieve,” Dumbledore said, tapping the rim of the stone basin with his wand. “Sometimes I feel like my head is full of too many thoughts and memories—that’s when I use it—I’m sure you understand that feeling.”

"You might not believe it, but I've never felt that way before."

Upon hearing Sherlock's words, Dumbledore couldn't help but show a surprised expression: "A clever little brain like yours should have many ingenious ideas."

Sherlock said calmly, “I think the human mind is like an empty attic, and you should selectively put some furniture in it.”

Only a fool would cram all sorts of junk and rubbish into his head, thus squeezing out the knowledge that would be useful to him.

Wisdom lies in selective absorption, not in blind accumulation—therefore, I have never had the feeling you described.

Dumbledore was stunned.

He originally intended to explain the function of the Pensieve to Sherlock.

This can be considered one of his masterpieces.

Because the Pensieve is very rare, only the most powerful wizards can use it, and most wizards are afraid to use it.

To everyone's surprise, Sherlock gave such an explanation.

Because he frequently used the Pensieve, he understood more clearly the power of Sherlock's memory attic.

"Before I continue to explain the function of the Pensieve, I must say something from the bottom of my heart."

Dumbledore looked at Sherlock and said, word by word, "You are the most talented person I have ever met."

"Thank you for your compliment, Principal."

Although Sherlock was expressing his gratitude, his expression was so calm and matter-of-fact that Dumbledore was momentarily at a loss for words.
He shook his head and simply pointed to the stone basin he called the meditation basin and continued speaking:

"I can suck the excess thoughts out of my mind and pour them into this basin, and take a good look at them when I have time."

You know, it's easier to see their shapes and the connections between them in this state.

"So, this thing is your thought?"

Sherlock glanced at the swirling silver substance in the basin and said.

"exactly."

As he spoke, Dumbledore tucked the wand between his fingers into his silver hair, near his temple.

When he pulled out the wand, there seemed to be some strands of hair stuck to the tip.

But the observant Sherlock soon discovered that it was actually a small wisp of the same silvery-white substance as in the basin.

Dumbledore added this new idea to the basin, and his own face appeared in it.

The next moment, Dumbledore held the Pensieve in his long, slender hands and turned it around, like a gold prospector turning a sand table.

Then, Dumbledore's own face gradually transformed into Snape's face.

Snape opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice even echoing slightly.

"interesting."

Sherlock, upon witnessing this scene, offered this assessment.

It's quite similar to the attic of one's own memories.

"That still isn't intuitive enough. Haven't you always wanted to know what happened fifty years ago? I'll take you there now."

Sherlock nodded.

At Dumbledore's prompting, Sherlock bent down and put his head toward the Pensieve.

The moment his nose touched Dumbledore's memory, Dumbledore's office suddenly tilted over.

Sherlock lunged forward and fell headfirst into the basin.

However, his head did not hit the bottom of the basin, but fell into a cold, dark substance, as if he had been sucked into a black vortex.

The feeling was similar to when Flitwick Apparated him, but not as unpleasant.

By the time he realized what was happening, he had already landed on his feet.

Sherlock looked around and quickly recognized himself as the entrance hall to the principal's office. A moment later, a voice rang out.

"What are you doing?"

Sherlock looked in the direction the sound came from and saw someone standing on the marble stairs waving to him.

He was a tall wizard with long, flowing, reddish-brown hair and a long beard.

Sherlock recognized him at a glance as Dumbledore, the middle-aged version of Dumbledore.

Compared to the Dumbledore he knew, the Dumbledore before him had a sharper gaze and was more imposing.

Sherlock immediately understood: this Dumbledore had not yet become the headmaster, and this point in time was fifty years ago.

"Tom, why are you still wandering around the school so late?"

Upon hearing the words of the middle-aged Dumbledore, Sherlock turned around.

A boy of sixteen or seventeen years old came into his view.

This young wizard had jet-black, shiny hair and was extremely handsome. He was the best-looking wizard Sherlock had ever seen, even better looking than Gilderoy Lockhart.

However, his face was somewhat pale, and a silver badge of a prefect gleamed on the chest of his Slytherin robe.

The student from fifty years ago was named Tom, a Slytherin prefect.

Sherlock immediately stored this information in his memory attic.

Since Dumbledore asked him to observe this memory, this student must be related to the Chamber of Secrets.

“I was just about to see the principal, sir.”

The student whom Dumbledore called Tom looked somewhat reserved, with his head down, seemingly afraid to meet Dumbledore's gaze.

"Okay, go to bed now."

The middle-aged Dumbledore gazed at Tom with a penetrating look and said slowly, "It's best not to wander around the corridors these days, since it's already..."

He didn't finish his sentence before letting out a heavy sigh.

He then said goodnight to Tom and strode away.

Sherlock noticed that Dumbledore had been watching Tom's figure until he disappeared before turning and entering the headmaster's office.

The office's interior was almost identical to the real one, except that the phoenix named Fox was not there.

The person sitting behind the table obviously couldn't be Dumbledore either.

Amando Dippet.

Sherlock finally saw the former headmaster in his entirety.

He was a frail, withered wizard with only a few strands of white hair on his bald head.

Sherlock glanced at him and could tell that he was in a state of extreme helplessness and melancholy.

When Dumbledore walked into the office, he managed a weak smile: "Albus, you've come."

"I just ran into Tom," Dumbledore said succinctly.

"I asked him to come."

Dippet sighed, opened an office drawer, took out a letter, and handed it to Dumbledore.

“This is what that child wrote to me, take a look.”

Dumbledore took the letter, and Sherlock immediately stepped forward to read it with him.

The letter was simple: the boy, Tom Riddle, wanted to stay at school for the summer vacation.

As is well known, Hogwarts has a three-semester system.

With winter break including Christmas and spring break including Easter, young wizards can choose to go home or stay at school.

Compared to these two holidays, the summer holidays in the UK are quite long, lasting a full three months.

Therefore, Hogwarts generally does not allow students to stay on campus during the summer vacation.

"I did not agree to his request."

Dippet remarked with considerable emotion, "I did intend to make some special arrangements for him, but under the current circumstances, allowing a student to remain in the castle after the semester ends would be a very foolish thing to do."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand your thoughts, Armando."

Encouraged by his old friend, Dippet continued:
"This recent series of attacks has been overwhelming, especially that tragedy... that poor little girl died..."

I actually think it would be much safer for Riddle to stay in the orphanage than at Hogwarts.

I've already told him that the Ministry of Magic is discussing closing the schools.

"No wonder he looked so frustrated."

"However, Riddle seems to know something."

"Why do you say that?" Dumbledore's gaze suddenly sharpened.

"When I said we had no clue about it, he suddenly asked me if the school would not close if the attacker were caught and if all of this stopped."

But when I asked him if he knew anything about these attacks, he denied it.

"He's lying!"

Based on his observations of Tom Riddle and his description of Dippet, Sherlock immediately made a judgment.

"Sherlock, I think we should go back."

Just then, a voice whispered in Sherlock's ear.

(End of this chapter)