Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 500 As long as Sherlock becomes president, everything will be alright.

From the very first school year at Hogwarts, Sherlock realized the importance of the Forbidden Forest.

This has been further proven over time.

There's no need to elaborate on common potions, such as Polyjuice Potion, Wolfsbane Potion, and Felix Felicis...

The difficulty of brewing these high-value potions goes without saying.

Of all the people Sherlock knew, only a Potions Master like Severus Snape could absolutely succeed in preparing the potion.

Oh, right, now we also need to add one of Snape's former teachers—Professor Horace Slughorn.

But as Professor Lupin once commented on the wolfsbane potion, for highly complex potions, the long and meticulous brewing process is only one aspect.

For most wizards, simply gathering those expensive and rare raw materials is an extremely difficult task.

But in the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts, you can find almost all the materials.

Poisonous thorn, yew, oak, two-ear grass...

Unicorn, venomous horn, two-horned beast, werewolf, centaur, eight-eyed giant spider, troll...

That's why Hagrid's Cottage became a glittering golden house.

Despite the various events that occurred at Hogwarts each year during the first three school years, affecting Sherlock's progress in exploring the Forbidden Forest.

But now, there is nowhere in the Forbidden Forest that can stop Sherlock.

Even though it's a place that inspires fear in others, Sherlock can walk on it with ease, thanks to the eight-eyed spider area created by Hagrid.

Of course, with his current strength, he is not capable of directly confronting the Eight-Eyed Giant Spider clan.

However, avoiding the detection of the eight-eyed giant spider was still very easy for him—even without the invisibility cloak.

No one knew that Sherlock had obtained quite a few rare materials from the Forbidden Forest.

As the saying goes, great things come from small beginnings, and by this school year, Sherlock had developed the idea of ​​brewing potions himself—which meant he would need a lot of raw materials.

Because of his prejudice against Gryffindor and his deliberate avoidance of Sherlock, Snape, the Potions Master, failed to discover Sherlock's talent in potions.

However, Sherlock himself was not surprised by this at all.

After all, in his view, potions science has something in common with Muggle disciplines such as biology and chemistry.

These two subjects are precisely Shylock's strengths.

Hermione once wrote a special book on the subjects Sherlock Holmes excelled at, and the three friends all thought Sherlock was unaware of this.

In fact, Sherlock was fully aware of this.

He simply laughed off what Hermione had written.

Hermione didn't understand herself well enough at that time, so how could what she wrote be correct?
It's just a stereotype derived from first impressions.

If Hermione were to rewrite it today, she wouldn't do it the same way.

Of course, this is also related to the fact that Sherlock has been growing up over the years.

This was the fourth grader's first nighttime exploration of the forbidden forest; the details are unnecessary to recount.

Simply put, Sherlock encountered the unicorn he had once helped.

With its help, Sherlock returned home laden with spoils.

In addition, he set off early enough today, which made his return time much earlier than usual.

When he returned to the Gryffindor common room, he was covered in the chill of the night and felt exhausted.

To his surprise, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were still there.

Sherlock initially thought Harry was doing divination homework with Ron.

After all, they were discussing this while they were eating.

As for Hermione, she must have just returned from the library, so it's not surprising that she's here.

However, Sherlock's gaze swept over the three of them, and he immediately realized that the problem was not so simple.

Time goes back to a quarter of an hour ago.

After Parvati and Lavender wisely left, Hermione did not ask Harry for his homework again.

She realized the problem just by looking at Ron's homework.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Petit are both Hermione's roommates, and Hermione knows them very well.

That's why she felt she couldn't understand it.

Are two roommates helping two friends, or are they helping each other deceive the teacher?

This is a bit too bizarre.

"Isn't it obvious at a glance that you made this up out of thin air—and they even helped you make it up?"

How dare you say that!

Ron feigned indignation and said, "We've been working here all night, as hard as house-elves!"

He was pretending to be angry because he had already finished his homework with Lavender's help and was in a good mood.

However, upon hearing his words, Hermione immediately raised her eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, I misspoke."

Ron quickly said.

He already knew from Sherlock that Hermione had been going to the library recently to advocate for the rights of house-elves.

Although he strongly disagreed, Ron felt it was unnecessary to argue with Hermione over such a trivial matter, so he quickly apologized.

Upon hearing this, Harry put down his quill; he had just predicted that he would be beheaded—though, after Parvati's reminder, he changed it to losing his hair.

However, seeing that the atmosphere was not right, he immediately pointed to the boxes Hermione was carrying and asked:
"Hermione, what's in these boxes?"

When Harry asked about it, Hermione stopped dwelling on the fact that the two of them had taken shortcuts to do their homework.

Actually, she mostly just teased people.

In her opinion, taking divination classes is a waste of time.

Taking shortcuts when doing homework for this course is not unacceptable.

What she really cared about was Ron's statement.

So he knew that raising house-elves was hard work!
Thinking of this, she reluctantly opened the box and showed them what was inside.

There were about fifty badges in the box, each a different color, but all with the same letters written on them.

【SPEW】

"Vomiting? Or spitting it out?"

Harry picked up a badge and examined it closely. "What does this mean?"

“It’s not vomiting, nor is it spitting out,” Hermione said impatiently when she realized Harry had misunderstood her.
"It is the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, abbreviated as S-P-E-W."

“Never heard of it,” Ron shook his head. “So you’ve been going to the library all this time just to find this?”

“It’s normal that you haven’t heard of it,” Hermione said crisply, “because I just founded it.”

"what?"

Ron was a little surprised.

After he realized what Hermione was talking about, he couldn't help but let out a "ha" sound.

"So, how many members do you have now?"

“Hmm—if you two join too—there will be three,” Hermione said, then looked around. “Add Sherlock and there will be four—by the way, where is he? Is he asleep?”

“I don’t know where he went,” Harry said honestly.

Ron, however, was more concerned with something else:
"Do you think we want to walk around wearing badges that say 'vomit'?"

"Say it again, it's S-P-E-W, not vomiting!"

Hermione said irritably, "I was going to name it 'A Campaign to Stop the Cruelty to Our Magical Animal Friends and Improve Their Legal Status'..."

When she said this, both Harry and Ron looked at her with horror.

"...But that's not really appropriate."

Thank goodness, the two exchanged a glance and said to each other in secret.

But Hermione then added, "That's why I made this the title of our association's manifesto."

"..."

Hermione waved the scroll of parchment in her hand and continued:

"These days, I've been studying this issue in depth at the library. The slave status of house-elves dates back several centuries."

I can't believe that no one has taken any action on this.

"Hermione—listen carefully."

Ron shouted, "They—like—this!"
They enjoy being other people's slaves!

"Our short-term goal is to ensure that house-elves receive reasonable wages and a good working environment."

Hermione ignored Ron's loud remark, which was even louder than his.

"Our long-term goal is to amend the law that prohibits elves from using wands."

We also need to try to get one of the Pokémon into the Department of Magical Creatures Control.

The fact that the interests of the sprites are not being fully considered is shocking.

Compared to Ron, who saw the whole thing as a joke, Harry was much more forgiving.

He asked, with a try-it-and-see attitude, "So... how can we do this?"

"First, we need to develop our membership."

Hermione said excitedly:
"I think all participants should pay two silver sikes to buy badges."

This income can be used to print leaflets.

Ron, you're the treasurer—I've prepared a piggy bank for you upstairs.

Harry, you're the secretary—you need to write down everything I say as a record of our first meeting.

"...So, you're planning to take the blame for vomiting...excuse me, is this the president of S-P-E-W?"

"No, I intend to become the executive vice president."

"And what about the president?" Ron asked curiously.

“Sherlock,” Hermione said firmly, “is the Lion King of Gryffindor, and his influence is unparalleled.”

"Are you crazy?"

Ron couldn't hold back any longer and spoke up, finding the whole thing utterly absurd.

"Let me tell you, Hermione—not to mention whether Sherlock would agree to be the president of this S-P-E-W thing."

Even if he actually agreed, do you believe his influence in Gryffindor will plummet because of it?

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"

Hermione said firmly, "You don't understand Sherlock at all!"

"..."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Hermione watched them both with delight.

Harry sat there, annoyed by Hermione's behavior but also amused by Ron's expression.

Finally, the silence was broken, but it wasn't Ron who spoke.

Judging from his appearance, he doesn't seem to be able to speak yet.

The three heard footsteps coming from the doorway.

"Sherlock!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly.

"Perfect timing!" Harry breathed a long sigh of relief.

Sherlock was slightly taken aback by the scene as he stepped into the common room.

He had a bulging dragon-skin bag slung across his shoulder, the edges still stained with patches of dark Forbidden Forest moss.

He subtly tightened his purse, his gaze sweeping over the three people staring at him expectantly.

Finally, the gaze lingered on the box containing the brightly colored badges that Hermione was holding, and the scroll of parchment on the table bearing the Association's manifesto.

"what happened?"

Sherlock's voice was inquisitive as he looked at Hermione. "You seem quite excited?"

Hermione was radiant and eagerly took a step forward:
"Sherlock! We have just founded an important organization!"

We need a president like you!

Sherlock's brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

His reaction was not simply anger or excitement, but more like a pure, sudden confusion.

"SPEW?"

He unconsciously repeated the abbreviation.

Even Sherlock couldn't deduce the meaning of this abbreviation.

So his tone was a steady question, his gaze sweeping over Hermione, Harry, and Ron in turn.

Ron covered his face the moment he entered, his shoulders twitching suspiciously.

Harry sat there, looking both embarrassed and helpless.

He wanted to explain, but didn't know where to begin.

In the end, he could only shrug slightly and gesture with his eyes to Sherlock the pile of badges and the parchment in Hermione's hand.

"S-P-E-W!"

The full name is Society for the Promotion of Elf Welfare!

House-Elf Rights Promotion Association!

Hermione immediately corrected her, her voice loud and eager:
"Sherlock, I think you're right. There's no point in using a hunger strike to protect the rights of house-elves."

Therefore, we can no longer ignore the unfair treatment suffered by house-elves!

For centuries…

As Sherlock listened to Hermione's fluent declaration, which sounded as if a start button had been pressed, he leisurely walked to an empty armchair near the fireplace and carefully placed the heavy dragonskin bag from his shoulder at his feet.

The pocket made a dull thud when it hit the ground, as if there were hard edges inside that were pressing against the leather.

He turned around, calmly interrupting Hermione's impassioned speech, his gaze landing directly on her eyes:

"Wait, Hermione, what do you want me to be?"

"President!"

Hermione said with anticipation and unwavering conviction, "Only you have such prestige and influence!"

We need your name and your strength to move this forward!

The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds.

The flames in the fireplace crackled and popped.

Ron peeked through his fingers, stealing a glance at Sherlock's expression.

Harry gripped his quill tightly, as He was required by Hermione to take notes on the meeting.

Sherlock did not respond immediately.

His sharp eyes swept over the badges on the table that read "SPEW" once more, finally settling on Hermione's face, which was slightly flushed with excitement.

A moment later, a complex emotion, a mixture of disbelief and astonishment, and an extremely profound and incomprehensible expression, appeared on his face.

Even her three best friends had never seen such an expression on Sherlock's face.

"The president of the House-based Pokémon Rights Promotion Association?"

He recited the title slowly and clearly.

His tone wasn't one of questioning, but rather of confirming an absurd reality that defied his logical understanding.

He looked at Hermione, the Gryffindor know-it-all.

Her eyes burned with an undeniable passion and a fire of justice, completely unaware that she was forcing someone who had just returned from dealing with unicorns and giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest, whose mind was still preoccupied with how to secretly concoct potions, into a position to fight for the right to use a wand for the kitchen elf.

Sherlock remained silent, his astonishment spreading and settling like ripples in his deep eyes.

Even Sherlock Holmes needed some time to process this sudden news.

After all, this seemed so out of place compared to his potion plan.

He hadn't expected that Hermione would actually produce this after tinkering for a while.
The air in the common room was so quiet that only the crackling of the flames could be heard.

Ron, however, couldn't help but let out a weak, desperate sob through his fingers.

(End of this chapter)