Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 445 Her Immense Charm

Professor Slughorn stared intently into Harry's eyes.

After a moment, he pressed the tip of his wand to his temple and then removed it.

The tip of the cane trailed a long, silvery thread of memory.

It stretched longer and longer and longer and longer... until it finally broke.

Finally, the silver light shimmered and floated on the tip of the staff.

Slughorn put it into the bottle, and the silver threads curled up, then unfurled, swirling like gas.

With trembling hands, he tightened the bottle cap and handed it to Harry across the table.

"Thank you very much, Professor."

Harry took the bottle and said this.

"You are a good boy."

Slughorn said, tears streaming down his plump cheeks and into his walrus whiskers, as he stared into Harry's green eyes and slowly began to speak:
"You have eyes like hers...you'll definitely be a good child...just don't think too badly of me after seeing this..."

After saying this, Slughorn rested his head in his arms, sighed deeply, and fell asleep.

"Is this okay?"

Harry stared in astonishment at the small bottle in his hand, finding it utterly unbelievable.

Whether it was timed perfectly or not, Dumbledore walked over from the other end of the room at that moment.

"professor!"

Harry glanced at Slughorn, who had fallen into a deep sleep, raised the small glass bottle in his hand, and said softly, "We got it!"

When Dumbledore saw the small glass bottle in Harry's hand, a bright smile spread across his face:

"This is truly exciting news—it's fantastic!"

Sherlock, Harry, I knew you could do it!

"In fact, we really have to thank Harry's mother."

Sherlock smiled, his gaze growing increasingly profound.

Harry's mother, Lily Potter, had an almost unbelievable charm.

It was able to turn over a new leaf in James.

This is what made Snape, a Death Eater, resolutely turn against his former allies.

To be able to get someone like Professor Slughorn to reveal his deepest secrets.

If Sherlock didn't know the truth, he would have suspected that she had Mweasel blood.

However, in any case, Harry's mother, Lily, deserves immense credit for successfully obtaining this crucial memory today.

"I see……"

With Sherlock's reminder, Dumbledore finally understood the crux of the matter.

He glanced at Slughorn, who had already fallen asleep, and hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Sherlock noticed Dumbledore's action and smiled slightly:
“I think… Professor Slughorn won’t remember anything by tomorrow morning, will he, sir?”

Dumbledore was taken aback at first, but then he understood: "You're right, Sherlock."

He waved his wand very lightly, and Slughorn seemed to fall into a deeper sleep.

Harry: Σ(っ°Д°;)っ

Having dealt with Slughorn, Dumbledore began to look around.

"Sir, are you looking for the Pensieve? I think it should be in that cabinet."

Sherlock chuckled when he saw Dumbledore's expression, then pointed to a locked mahogany cabinet.

Dumbledore was taken aback, once again marveling at Sherlock's keen observation skills.

"I don't think that lock should be a problem for you, but if I were you, I wouldn't be here looking at this memory."

Even the smallest action can have unexpected consequences.

“You’re right,” Dumbledore paused as he was about to unlock the door, giving Sherlock a deep look. “Let’s go.”

After the three of them left Slughorn's house, they all turned back and glanced at the magnificent house once more.

Although it was only a short two hours, Professor Horace Slughorn left a deep impression on the three of them.

Dumbledore sighed deeply and said to the two as he walked away:

"I think you've all figured it out: Horace enjoys material pleasures and likes to associate with famous, successful, and powerful people."

Since Dumbledore had already said it, Harry naturally didn't need to say anything more.

Sherlock knew the other party's character before he arrived, so there was no need to elaborate further.

Dumbledore continued:

"Horace himself never wanted to wield great power, preferring to remain in a secondary position—for him, that gave him more freedom and a greater sense of control."

When he taught at Hogwarts, he always liked to actively select his favorite students.

Sometimes it's because of their ambition or wisdom, sometimes it's because of their charm or talent.

Moreover, he has a very unusual ability to always pick out those who will excel in various industries in the future.

The Slughorn Club, which Horace founded with himself at its core, was composed of his most prized students.

He just introduced you to him—he introduced you to each other, helped you establish useful connections, and always ended up with some benefit—even if it was just a free box of his favorite pineapple preserves.

But most of the time, the opportunity lies in recommending an employee to the Fairy Liaison Office.

Sherlock chuckled lightly, neither confirming nor denying it.

In Harry's mind, a plump, large spider appeared. It spun a thread here and a thread there, weaving a web around its body, eventually luring a delicious, juicy fly to its side.

"I don't need to say anything more about Sherlock. I think his understanding of Horace is probably even deeper than mine."

“Obviously, sir,” Sherlock admitted without hesitation.

Dumbledore smiled and continued:

“But I’m telling you this not so that you’ll develop a dislike for Horace, but so that you’ll remain vigilant.”

"alert?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore with some confusion:
"I don't understand, Professor, why should I be on guard?"

"Because he'll definitely try to win you over, Harry."

You will become a treasure in his collection—the boy who survived, the savior of the magical world, the Dark Lord's only nemesis...

To him, you are simply too perfect; you could even see him as Gilderoy Lockhart.

The difference between the two is that Gilderoy was all talk and no action, while Horace was a very capable wizard.

Hearing these words, Harry felt a chill run down his spine.

He couldn't help but recall the words he had heard in Dumbledore's office before the end of his third year.

That sentence had a terrible and special meaning for him.

One must die at the hands of the other, because neither can live; only one can survive...

At this point, Dumbledore had stopped and was standing at the coordinates where they had previously Apparated.

"Alright, now you just need to hold onto my arm tightly."

This was the third time Harry had been Apparated, but even with two previous experiences, he still felt very uncomfortable.

He looked at Sherlock and Dumbledore beside him, who seemed completely unaffected, and couldn't help but feel envious.

Dumbledore is one thing, but Sherlock's ability to do this is truly remarkable.

"Don't look at me like that, dear Harry."

Sherlock understood what Harry was thinking at a glance.

He chuckled softly, "In fact, I've only experienced apparition once more than you."

"Is he with Felius?"

Upon hearing this, Dumbledore asked gently.

"Yes, it's the case of the Greek interpreter."

At this point, Sherlock frowned. "Two whole years have passed, and the Ministry of Magic still hasn't been able to catch John Smith."

"As far as I know, they gave up after trying for a while at the beginning."

Dumbledore clearly knew this too, and shook his head, saying, "They're always like this."

"Now I understand, comparing Scotland Yard to them is an insult to Scotland Yard."

"Alright, let's put that aside for now and take a look at this crucial memory."

"Wait, where is this?"

Harry suddenly realized that the three of them were standing side by side on a country road—clearly, this was not Grimmauld Place.

"Simply put, this is one of my secret hideouts."

"A secret hideout?" Harry asked in surprise.

"good."

It wasn't Dumbledore who answered Harry, but Sherlock.

He looked around and pointed to the somewhat shabby room in front of him, saying:

"As the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it is perfectly normal for him to own a private property outside the school."

Dumbledore smiled and led Sherlock and Harry into the room.

As soon as Harry stepped into the cabin, he couldn't help but think of Hagrid's hut.

They all appear unremarkable on the outside, but are much more complex on the inside.

The layout here resembles a simplified, miniature version of the Hogwarts Headmaster's office.

Even without special explanation, the connection between it and Dumbledore is obvious.

"I've cast a confusion spell here to make sure the Muggles won't find this place."

I've also set up two intrusion spells, so I'll know immediately if any stranger breaks in.

As Dumbledore spoke, he strode to a cabinet and took out a stone basin from it.

Sherlock recognized it as the Pensieve at a glance.

However, it is much simpler than the Pensieve in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore placed the stone basin on the table, poured the contents of the bottle into it, and his voice was somewhat excited:
"Now, we're finally going to see it, hurry..."

As Sherlock leaned over the Pensieve, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Harry was doing the same thing.

Just like when he used the Pensieve last time, he felt his feet leave the ground and fall into the darkness, into the silver surface, and finally land in front of a person.

Sherlock recognized the other person at a glance.

Horace Slughorn.

Compared to when they first met, Slughorn in front of him was clearly much younger.

(End of this chapter)