Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 400 The Battle for Sherlock
Principal's office.

The flames in the fireplace danced merrily like leaping sprites within the brick and stone hearth.

Warm, orange-red light spilled in layers onto the mountains of parchment scrolls, gilded books, and ancient magical artifacts bearing the marks of time.

The air was filled with a faint, pleasant scent of cedar and old paper, which flowed quietly in the warm light.

Headmaster Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting lightly on the armrests of his chair, listening intently as Sherlock analyzed his old colleague Horace Slughorn.

A pair of bright blue eyes gleamed with focused attention behind half-moon shaped lenses, and the wrinkles at the corners of the eyes smoothed out slightly with concentration.

Fawkes, the phoenix perched on the clothes rack, shook its magnificent golden feathers, tilted its small head, and curiously turned its obsidian-like round eyes back and forth between Sherlock and Dumbledore.

Its long tail feathers occasionally brushed lightly against the perch, making a soft rustling sound.

The portraits of past headmasters hanging on the wall, which were not asked to leave by Dumbledore this time, also stared intently at the two people in the room, just like Fawkes.

At this moment, everyone's eyes were focused on Sherlock, who was talking eloquently.

Even the most serious Phineas Nigelles put away his critical expression.

"Professor Horace Slughorn's entire logic of action, whether it is investing in talent, choosing teaching positions, cultivating networks, or his almost pathetic retreat when facing danger, all serve this ultimate goal—stability."

Without a doubt, he was the true Slytherin, a typical elitist rather than a pure-blood.

He took shrewdness, self-preservation, and ambition limited to the realm of safety to the extreme.

However, this philosophy of stability is not fully constructed because it lacks a crucial element—the courage and determination to maintain stability.

Therefore, this goal was destined to crumble in the face of Voldemort's overwhelming storm.

Unfortunately, he still hasn't realized this and is still trying to escape it.

Ironically, he can't even escape your detection now, let alone Voldemort hiding in the shadows.

Sadly, you now need my help to find crucial information from such a person.

After hearing Sherlock's analysis of Slughorn, Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise.

His long, silvery-white eyebrows were slightly raised, and after a while, he slowly took off the crescent-shaped glasses from the bridge of his nose.

With a gentle touch of the slender tip of the magic wand on the lens, the lens instantly becomes clean and clear.

“Sherlock, if I didn’t know the truth, I would even doubt that you were the one who had known Horace for over sixty years, and not me.”

Dumbledore's voice was filled with undisguised amazement.

He gently ran his fingertips along the smooth edge of the frame, put his glasses back on, and his eyes gleamed with approval.

"No need to say that, Principal. I was merely summarizing your statement, which is really nothing to mention."

"So, are you ready to help me uncover that secret?"

"No, that's far from enough."

Sherlock shook his head, his gray eyes revealing a serious expression:

"As I just said, everything I just said is merely a summary based on your description of this professor."

However, relying solely on your perspective is ultimately somewhat one-sided; I need more data.

By the way, besides Tom Riddle, who manipulated Professor Slughorn, do you know any other members of the Slughorn Club?

Dumbledore nodded, and then rattled off a series of names:

"Ambrosio Froome, he is the owner of the Bee Duke candy store."

Avery, a member of the Twenty-Eight Holy Purebloods, later became a Death Eater.

Barnabas Guffey, editor-in-chief of The Daily Prophet.

Dirk Cresswell, an official in the Ministry of Magic's Fairy Liaison Office.

Gvinog Jones, he is the captain of the Hellhead Happy Quidditch team.

......"

Sherlock was not familiar with these people, but he still remembered their names.

This fully proves Dumbledore's description of Professor Slughorn earlier: his students are all over the world, in all walks of life in the magical world.

But at the end, Dumbledore uttered several unexpected yet logical names:

"Potions Professor Severus and Harry's mother Lily were both very talented in potions and were highly favored by Horace at the time."

Malfoy's father Lucius and Sirius's brother Regulus, though not as talented as Severus and Lily, were still regarded with special regard by Horace because of their family.

There's also Sybil, a professor of divination, who is the great-granddaughter of the prophet Cassandra Trelawney.

"Regus?"

Sherlock noticed the name keenly.

“Yes, Regulus Black, I think you should have heard of him.”

Sirius Black's younger brother, who was once a worshipper of Voldemort, joined the Death Eaters at the age of 16 and was much loved by his parents.

He later realized that Voldemort was not the kind of person he had imagined, so he wanted to leave the organization, but unfortunately it was too late.

Ultimately, it was Voldemort, or some other Death Eater, who killed him—but all of this comes from Sirius Black's account.

"Yes, that's him."

Dumbledore, lost in thought, let out a long sigh:

"There are many organizations in this world, and often all it takes to join is a thought."

However, quitting requires a lifetime, and there's no guarantee of ever being able to quit.

The Death Eaters, founded by Voldemort, are an example of this.

Sherlock glanced at Dumbledore with some surprise.

He immediately realized that Dumbledore wasn't talking about Regulus, or rather, not just Regulus.

It's quite interesting. This headmaster probably has the most secrets of everyone at Hogwarts.

"A very representative sample list."

After a moment of silence, Sherlock spoke, his voice still steady, but carrying a determination to act.

"It encompasses different family backgrounds, different temperaments, and even completely different paths of choice that followed."

It's ideal, even more ideal than I imagined.

A glint of understanding flashed in Dumbledore's deep blue eyes, and he nodded slightly.
"Professor Slughorn's taste... or rather, his vision for investing in the future, is indeed quite unique."

These people, whether good or bad, have all left, or continue to leave, a profound mark in their respective fields.

Phoenix Fox seemed to sense the change in atmosphere, letting out a melodious low cry, and its golden and red tail feathers swayed gracefully.

The old headmasters in the picture frame began their habitual whispering or feigned serious contemplation, but their gazes still seemed to drift towards Sherlock, who was about to leave.

"Thank you for providing the clue, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Sherlock stood up and said, "The accuracy of the information will directly determine whether I can crack the key secret in Professor Slughorn's mind."

I need to recreate a more authentic Horace Slughorn, not just through your memory filter.

Well then... goodnight.

Dumbledore was somewhat surprised.

He hadn't expected Sherlock to suggest leaving on his own initiative.

But he still stood up. "Good night, and good luck, Sherlock."

After Sherlock left, the office became quiet again.

Dumbledore's gaze behind his crescent-shaped spectacles was deep and unfathomable. He ran his fingertips lightly along the edge of the frames again, and murmured to himself:
"Sample analysis and precise judgment—Sherlock's method of seeking the truth would probably surprise even Horace himself."

In the portrait of the headmaster, Phineas Nigellus let out a disgruntled snort and muttered:

"Hmph, making it sound like some serious investigation... Dumbledore, I don't see how that boy could be more suitable than you."

The other elderly principals nearby exchanged interested glances.

“I don’t expect you to see it either, Phineas.”

Dumbledore answered calmly.

Fox tilted his head and let out another melodious low hum.

The next day, Sherlock told his friends about it.

"W-what?"

"Hornets? I've never even heard of them."

"Storing one's own soul into another container is terrifying to even think about!"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron each shared their opinions on the matter.

In Sherlock's view, this was all correct nonsense.

"So, do you have any leads? Do you really need to look for other people?"

"Yes, the information Dumbledore provided is enough for me to make a judgment about Slughorn."

However, as I told him, this is just his opinion.

To achieve success on the first try, the preparation work needs to be more thorough.

"I don't know."

By now, this phrase has almost become Ron's catchphrase.

He would blurt out that phrase every now and then.

"Why must it be a one-time success? Even if we can't get rid of that snotty professor on the first try..."

"It's Professor Slughorn, not Professor Slug!"

Hermione said with dissatisfaction.

"Actually, they don't sound that different..."

Ron shrugged, unfazed by Hermione's correction. "I mean, even if we can't find the truth from him the first time, wouldn't it be better to try a few more times?"

"I'm afraid... that won't work."

Surprisingly, it was Harry, not Hermione, who spoke up this time.

"According to Sherlock's analysis, Professor Slughorn is clearly a cautious person."

He resigned immediately after being asked only one question by Headmaster Dumbledore.

So if we can't get the truth out of him in one go, he'll probably run away again.

It won't be easy to find him then.

Am I right, Sherlock?

Although Harry had tried to explain his analysis, he lacked confidence, so he asked Sherlock another question after he finished.

"Absolutely fantastic, Harry!"

Sherlock smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder:

"Am I right? Deductive reasoning can be contagious. Now you're starting to use it to analyze problems more and more often."

"In other words, my deduction—"

"Absolutely correct!"
It was for this reason that I needed more sample information to find the truth during my first meeting with Professor Slughorn.

Besides, we're not in such a rush that we need to see him immediately.

Ron remained indifferent when he heard Sherlock's praise of Harry.

She already has Sherlock, who possesses extraordinary intelligence, and Hermione, a walking encyclopedia, by her side.

Even if there were another Harry who could occasionally come up with a brilliant idea, it wouldn't make much difference to him.

But Hermione's eyes suddenly sharpened.

She glanced at Harry almost imperceptibly, then said:

"Sherlock, I remember you should be able to get the signatures of professors in the restricted section, right?"

Harry and Ron were both startled by what they heard: "Hermione, what are you trying to do?"

Hermione didn't answer, but stared intently at Sherlock.

Sherlock smiled slightly, then took out a quill and parchment from his pocket.

He then immediately signed his name, Felius Flitwick, on it and handed it to Hermione.

"Oh, is this alright?"

Harry and Ron watched Sherlock's actions in astonishment. Was this the method Hermione had mentioned?

Isn't this a bit too simplistic and crude?
Only Hermione looked at it carefully again and again, and then a satisfied smile appeared on her face:

"They're exactly the same."

After saying that, she picked up the paper, carefully folded it, and ran away.

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"Hordeal... that's obviously a very advanced form of magic. It seems Hermione is planning to go and look through the forbidden books section?"
But she used to be the one who most strongly opposed this kind of opportunistic approach!

“She seems to be trying to prove herself,” Ron muttered, “that she’s more helpful to Sherlock than you are.”

Harry: ((*)ゞ→→

Not buddy.

No, not really.

Your opponent is Gemma, or even Luna, but definitely not me!
Harry did want to do something for Sherlock.

Unfortunately, he is now powerless to do so.

With the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match imminent, he simply cannot spare any time.

By this time, news of Harry possessing a Firebolt had already spread throughout the entire school, which meant that whenever Harry went to training, people would always come over to watch.

Wood didn't think Ravenclaw would send spies to investigate their tactics like Slytherin did.

In fact, Slytherin never did that; what happened last time was purely Wood's own subjective imagination.

However, they were still somewhat annoyed by the large number of people watching their training.

So he went through Ms. Hooch's back door again and invited her to supervise the Gryffindor Quidditch team's training.

With a teacher present, no one other than the Gryffindor Quidditch players can enter the pitch.

This made Wood very happy; this time, his backdoor trip hadn't been in vain.

He quickly became embarrassed again.

Because while Ms. Hooch stopped others, she herself became an obstacle to the team's training.

(End of this chapter)