Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 492 Read Again and Again
The doors of the Hogwarts Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall, who was in charge of guiding the new students, led a long line of first-year students to the top of the Great Hall.

The new students lined up along the faculty desks, stopped, and faced the scrutinizing gazes of the entire student body.

This environment made them feel cold and nervous, and they couldn't help but tremble all over.

Interestingly, these first-year students gave the impression that they didn't cross the Black Lake by ferry, but rather swam directly across the lake.

Two years ago, during Sherlock's second year of high school, they also experienced a heavy rain.

In addition, because of the incident with Dobby the house-elf, Hogwarts added an entrance examination to the process before enrollment.

As a result, the opening ceremony was postponed much later than usual.

That year, Ginny, Luna, Colin, and other freshmen were soaked to the bone.

They crossed the lake by boat, just like this year's new students, as if they had swum across the lake.

This moment is just like that moment back then.

How can they be so similar?

No, there are still some differences.

This year, there was one exception: a short boy.

He had grayish-brown hair and was wrapped in something.

Sherlock, Harry, and Hermione immediately recognized it as Hagrid's mole-skin coat.

As for Ron, he was so hungry that he was dizzy and had no energy to distinguish anything.

One can imagine what it would look like to see Hagrid's coat on a thin, small boy.

It was so big that the little boy looked as if he were shrouded in a black circus fur tent.

His little face peeked out from his collar, his expression incredibly excited.

As he stood in a row with his terrified companions, his eyes met those of Colin Crevey.

He gave two thumbs up and mouthed a sentence silently.

Sherlock easily understood what he was saying.

"I fell into the lake!"

However, he seemed to be overjoyed by this.

Sherlock looked at Colin. "So, he's your brother?"

"That's right!"

"Holmes, you're amazing!" Colin exclaimed excitedly.

I haven't even said anything yet, and you've already seen through me.

_

Sherlock turned his face away and said nothing.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron couldn't help but chuckle to themselves at the sight.

It's not just Sherlock; even they could see that, okay?

Although Sherlock would be pleased when others genuinely praised his reasoning, ...

Sherlock was speechless at something that even they found obvious.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall placed a three-legged stool on the ground in front of the new students and put her tattered Sorting Hat on it.

This scene is all too familiar to freshmen other than first-year students.

However, for first-year students experiencing the Sorting Ceremony for the first time, this scene can still make them feel uneasy.

The next moment, the hat started singing:

"That was over a thousand years ago, when I had just been woven into shape."

There are four famous wizards whose names have been passed down to this day:

Brave Gryffindors, from the desolate swamp,
Beautiful Ravenclaw, from the tranquil riverside,
The merciful Hufflepuff came from the open valley.

The shrewd Slytherins came from that quagmire.

……

Now, place me firmly on your head; I have never misjudged you.

I need to examine your mind to determine which college you belong to!

After the Sorting Hat finished singing, there was warm applause in the hall.

"Sure enough, it's different from what I sang in first and second grade."

Although he couldn't quite remember the exact lyrics, Harry was still able to make that judgment clearly.

As he clapped, he asked Ron, "Is it different from last year?"

"That's right, it changes every year... Let it end quickly, I want to eat!"

Ron muttered to himself, looking just like Dudley who was on a diet.

Harry: "..."

Next, the college selection ceremony officially began.

As in previous years, Professor McGonagall unrolled a large roll of parchment and began to read out the names of the new students in order.

When Sherlock was in his second year, Professor McGonagall once took the wrong list and read out the familiar name "Hannah Abbott".

This led many people to believe that Hannah had repeated a grade.

However, Professor McGonagall didn't make the same mistake this year; she read it aloud crisply and clearly:

"Stuart Ackerley!"

"Malcolm Bardock!"

"Eleanor Branstone!"

The first three young wizards didn't take the Sorting Hat for too long.

The Sorting Hat sent them to Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff in just a minute or two.

But the timeframe after that varies.

Young wizards with short experience often call out the name of the house as soon as they put the hat on their head.

For long periods of time, one needs to think about the hat for quite a while.

However, the longest one lasted only about three minutes. Not only were there no embarrassing hat-crashing incidents like those of Professor McGonagall and Sherlock, but there were also no hat-crashing incidents like those of Hermione and Neville that lasted more than four minutes.

After a while, it was the turn of the only freshman who could be considered a familiar face.

"Dennis Creevey!"

He is Colin Crevey's brother.

Perhaps the prayers of the savior of the magical world had an effect.

The hat had barely touched the little boy's head when he shouted "Gryffindor!"

Dennis Crevy was overjoyed to hear that he would be placed in the same college as his brother.

He took off his hat, put it back on the stool, and then hurried over.

However, on his way there, he was always tripped up by Hagrid's mole fur coat.

Having finally managed to sit down next to his brother, he immediately began to recount how he fell into the lake, was caught by something, and was pushed back onto the boat.

"I know, it must be the giant squid from Black Lake!"

Colin was just as excited as his brother.

He felt that his younger brother had been thrown into a deep, turbulent lake, and then pushed out by a giant lake monster—an experience that no one would even dare to dream of.

However, Colin, true to form, couldn't resist talking about his profession. After only a few words, he immediately pointed at Harry and said to his brother:

"Dennis! Dennis!"

Do you see that boy over there?

The one with black hair and glasses?
"See him? Do you know who he is, Dennis?"

Harry: "..."

What the hell!

I knew it!

To avoid trouble, Harry quickly turned his head away, pretending he hadn't heard the brothers' conversation. Then he noticed that Sherlock and Hermione were standing very close together.

Hermione was watching Sherlock intently, listening to him describe each of the new families and their experiences that day, as if she found it all very interesting.

Harry couldn't help but glance at the two of them with a hint of envy, before involuntarily turning his gaze to Ravenclaw's table.

Whenever someone was assigned to Ravenclaw, Cho Chang would clap, smile, and welcome them along with the others.

As if by telepathy, Cho Chang suddenly noticed a gaze fixed on her. When she turned her head, she saw Harry and couldn't help but give him a sweet smile.

Cho Chang's smile had a noticeable healing effect on Harry.

Almost instantly, Harry felt the chill he had been feeling along the way quickly leave him.

Not only that, Harry also had a strange impulse.

That is, the desire to sit at the Ravenclaw table.

Strangely, this urge seems to become more and more pronounced as I get older.

This scene inevitably evokes a sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, mixed feelings):
Hermione looked at Sherlock.

Harry looked at Cho Chang.

Ginny was also looking at Harry.

And so, the sorting ceremony came to an end.

As in previous years, most of the new students ended up in Hufflepuff.

Ron grabbed his knife and fork, staring longingly at the golden plate of food in front of him:
"it's time."

“At this important moment,” Fred said.

“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for,” George said.

"Please, Wood has already graduated, okay? Stop mimicking his way of speaking."

Ron looked at his twin brothers with some displeasure:
"I can't wait even a minute longer. I hope Dumbledore will save his words for after dinner."

Whether Ron's wish had worked or not, Professor Dumbledore stood up, smiled at all the students, and opened his arms in a welcoming gesture.

"I only have two words to say to you."

He said his deep voice echoed in the auditorium.

"Eat it!"

"awesome!"

Ron was overjoyed to see the empty plate in front of him suddenly filled with food, and he immediately started showing off without saying a word.

It is well known that the food served at the opening and graduation banquets of each academic year is the most lavish.

Not only that, but the meals provided here are all-you-can-eat.

So someone like Ron would naturally not let such an opportunity pass him by.

Nick, who was almost headless, watched sadly as the little wizards put the food into their respective plates.

This scene reminded him of his own Christmas death anniversary.

If these meals could be replaced with food that a ghost like him could taste, then it would be a fatal blow.

It's a pity that it can't be replaced.

“You know, you guys are lucky, the party tonight was almost ruined,” Nick said, looking almost headless. “There was a mess in the kitchen earlier.”

"what's going on?"

Sherlock had always been interested in this kind of thing, and immediately asked a question.

“It’s Peeves causing trouble again,” Nick said, shaking his head.

However, this movement caused his head to shake dangerously—he quickly pulled his ruffled collar up a little to protect his neck.

"They're arguing about that again, you know, he also wants to attend the banquet."

Sigh, that's impossible. You know his character; he's completely ill-mannered and throws food everywhere.

So we held a ghost meeting. The fat monk was in favor of giving him this opportunity, but the blood man Barrow firmly disagreed.

I think he did it very wisely.

The Bloody Baron is the ghost of Slytherin House, a thin, silent figure covered in silver bloodstains. He is the only one at Hogwarts who can truly keep Peeves in check.

"So he got very angry and wreaked havoc in the kitchen, making a complete mess."

Not only were pots and pans scattered everywhere, but the entire kitchen was also flooded with soup.

The house-elves were also terrified and completely lost their composure…

Hermione frowned upon hearing this.

She did know that Hogwarts had house-elves—although this wasn't described in "Hogwarts: A History of the School," Sherlock had mentioned that he had gone to the kitchen with Dumbledore.

"Are they okay?"

"What problems could they possibly have?"

Nick said dismissively, "That's just their job."

"Work?"

Hermione's brow furrowed even deeper: "But do they get paid? Do they get holidays?"

And—do they have sick leave, allowances, all that stuff?

Nick was taken aback at first, then chuckled.

He was laughing so hard that his ruffled collar tilted to one side and his head rolled off.

Hanging there precariously, suspended by an inch or two of dead skin and muscle still attached to its neck.

"Sick leave and allowance?"

Nick adjusted his head back onto his neck, secured it with the ruffled collar, and then spoke:
House-elves do not need sick leave or allowances!
Haven't you noticed? They rarely leave the kitchen during the day; they only come out at night to clean up... or check on the stove and such...

This is the hallmark of a good house-elf—you have no idea it exists.

Hermione lowered her head, staring at the food on her plate, and remained silent.

After a moment, she placed the knife and fork on the plate and pushed the plate away.

"Oh, please spare me."

Seeing this, Ron couldn't help but complain, "Even if you starve yourself to death, you won't get them sick leave!"

“Slave labor,” Hermione said, her breathing becoming very heavy. “That’s how this dinner came about—slave labor.”

Judging from Hermione's expression, she had no intention of eating any more.

"Sherlock..."

Harry quickly looked towards Sherlock.

He knew very well that only Sherlock's words would be effective in this situation.

Sherlock certainly did not disappoint him:

“Dear Hermione, I understand what you’re thinking.”

Your courage is admirable, but rights are not earned through self-sacrifice.

If you want to fight for the rights of house-elves, there are even better ways, there are...

Understanding does not equate to agreement.

At this point, his eyes suddenly sharpened:
What can a hunger strike get you?
It only makes friends worry and little elves panic, nothing more.

They won't awaken because you're hungry; they'll only think we've harmed the wizard—that's self-pity, not resistance.

You've also seen Kreacher; its ideas are practically representative of all house-elves.

They do not see this as oppression; on the contrary, they regard serving their master as the foundation of their existence.

Fighting for your rights requires intelligence, not self-torture.

As Sherlock spoke, he pushed the plate that Hermione had pushed away back to its original position.

Under Sherlock's gray eyes, Hermione's heavy breathing gradually subsided.

A moment later, she picked up the slice of bread that had been spread with butter and jam and took a big bite.

(End of this chapter)