Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 603 Together

“Sir, you were much more assertive back then than you are now.”

After the three of them left Dumbledore's memory and stood firmly on the wooden floor of the Headmaster's office again, Sherlock turned to Dumbledore and said...

His tone carried a unique hint of teasing:

"A simple conversation, yet he firmly grasped the initiative, not giving the other party even the slightest chance to refute."

From beginning to end, you never gave him any chance.

Especially that line, "I am the principal," which sounded particularly authoritative.

Knowing this was Sherlock's unique way of expressing himself, Dumbledore shook his head with a wry smile:

"If you mean I insisted on calling him Tom instead of Voldemort, then that's what I was thinking at the time."

He readily admitted this, his gaze drifting to the window, tinged with a distant reminiscence:

"At that time, some Death Eaters had already begun to follow him."

But as you just saw, they are still operating in the shadows and have not been fully exposed to the public eye.

I want to say... my abilities are limited, but at least I can ensure that Hogwarts, this pure land, remains unpolluted by him.

"Did the fact that the Defense Against the Dark Arts course teacher changes every year happen after this conversation?"

Sherlock then pressed on with more questions.

"Yes."

At this point, Dumbledore sighed softly, a heavy look settling over his face:
"So even though he never explicitly said which subject he wanted to teach, I knew what he was planning to do."

Since I rejected Voldemort, no Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has been able to teach for more than a year.

This was his revenge on me, and also the vicious curse he left behind, which lasted until this year...

To be honest, I initially thought the curse was broken because Voldemort's power had weakened, but it turns out the opposite is true.

"Sir, his face became so grotesque and terrifying because of the creation of Horcruxes?"

Seeing Dumbledore's sighing expression, Harry couldn't suppress his curiosity and quickly asked.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, his tone growing increasingly heavy:
"To be precise, it should be the aftereffects of the soul constantly splitting apart."

With each Horcrux he creates, his soul becomes more fragmented and broken, and his body is correspondingly eroded.

Therefore, his appearance became less and less human, and increasingly resembled a non-human, evil being.

Of course, before Voldemort, no one had ever created multiple Horcruxes.

Even knowing this outcome, he did not stop.

Unfortunately, I didn't know this at the time, and thought it was just a consequence of his long-term immersion in dark magic.

“It’s alright, it’s not too late to know now,” Sherlock said calmly.

"Yes, it's not too late. We still have time."

Dumbledore slightly raised the corners of his mouth, his tone becoming a little more relaxed:
"Well then... let's call it a day. We've already taken up a lot of your time."

I wish you all the best in your third project.

As for Harry's scar... I'm sorry, I can't think of a good solution for it right now.

However, I will let you know as soon as I have any news.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said sincerely, his eyes filled with gratitude.

Just as Harry was ready to get up and leave, Sherlock suddenly spoke:
"And one more thing."

“Go ahead and say it,” Dumbledore gestured for him to continue.

"The time when I could scare you with a burning wardrobe and force you to reflect is long gone."

Sherlock's gaze was fixed on Dumbledore. "When did this happen? Was it when you went to the orphanage to pick him up?"

Dumbledore was clearly taken aback, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

He hadn't expected Sherlock to be able to pick up on such a tiny detail from the conversation they'd just had.

Even though they were already familiar with Sherlock's extraordinary observation and analytical abilities, they still couldn't help but be amazed at this moment.

"Yes, Sherlock..."

At that time, I, just like Professor McGonagall later went to pick you up, personally visited the orphanage and met young Tom Riddle.

He fell into his memories and slowly said:
"At that time, he had already committed some heinous acts, intimidating other children in the orphanage and secretly locking things that did not belong to him in his wardrobe."

For example, toys such as pull-string spools, silver thimbles, and harmonicas.

They were all cherished possessions of the other children in the orphanage.

Yes... From a young age, he had a habit of taking other people's things for himself; deep down, he harbored a strong predatory urge.

"So you set fire to that wardrobe?" Sherlock pressed.

"It burned, but it wasn't completely destroyed."

Dumbledore's gaze drifted into the distance, as if he were back in that dark, damp orphanage room:

"I used magic to set the wardrobe on fire, but the flames were quickly extinguished..."

I asked him to return these items to their owners and to sincerely apologize to them.

I wanted to teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget, to make him understand that stealing and intimidation are wrong.

"So did he do it?" Harry asked impatiently, his heart pounding.

“He did do that, but…” Dumbledore paused, as if considering his words.

"But it's pointless."

Sherlock interrupted him without hesitation, his tone firm.

"Why?" Harry asked quickly, his face full of confusion.

Dumbledore also turned his gaze to Sherlock, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

He was eager to hear how his prized student would analyze his actions back then.

"All the returns and apologies are nothing more than a carefully calculated compromise."

Sherlock's gaze suddenly sharpened, as if it could pierce through one's heart:
"He did as you asked not because he realized the wrongness of stealing, but because he made an extremely rational judgment in an instant:"

Rebelling against you, a wizard with a wand and immense power, would completely thwart his only chance of entering Hogwarts.

You think your lesson has worked, but in reality, he's simply choosing to lie low temporarily in the face of absolute power.

Sherlock leaned forward slightly and began tapping the table with his long, slender fingers:
“Sir, although I haven’t seen this part of your memory, I’d bet you a Galleon.”

He felt no shame or regret, only cold obedience.

For him, this was not a moral correction, but a precise assessment of the balance of power.

Your actions made him see your power and deeply remember the feeling that the weak must obey. You tried to tame him with rules, but he interpreted them as tools used by the strong to control the weak.

This apology didn't plant a moral seed in his heart; instead, it strengthened his resolve that only by becoming the strongest could he escape this situation of forced obedience.

Sherlock's voice echoed clearly in the office:

"People like him only think that once they have such power, they can not only take whatever they want, but also make others submit to them without having to pay the humiliating price of apologizing."

You thought he was demonstrating the correct way to use force, but he was secretly learning how to use force to override all rules.

These words stunned Harry, his mouth agape, unable to close for a long time.

Dumbledore, however, felt as if struck by lightning, a chill running through him, his fingers involuntarily tightening.

"Sherlock, I..."

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found himself speechless and unable to say anything.

A faint hint of mockery flashed in Sherlock's eyes:

"Of course, your intention was not wrong."

According to you, Tom Riddle already possessed the rudiments of a power-hungry individual before he met you.

Your intention is to guide and restrain his evil thoughts, not to stimulate his desire for power.

Unfortunately, your judgment was flawed.

Simply put, you overestimated the impact of lessons on individuals with naturally antisocial personality traits.

Tom Riddle is not Harry Potter, although his childhood circumstances were similar to Harry's—no, in fact, Harry's situation was worse than his.

Unfortunately, he lacked a kind heart.

Hearing Sherlock say this, Harry looked at him with great gratitude.

My older brother is such a good talker, and he understands me so well.

Sherlock continued:
"...For him, any moral constraints were merely obstacles to be avoided, and any temporary obedience was for the sake of longer-term plunder."

Your actions this time are like putting a collar on a rebellious lion cub.

You think you can tame its wildness, but little do you know that it is just silently accumulating strength, waiting for the day it breaks free of its collar and tears its trainer apart.

As you said, he did return those trinkets later.

But his predatory desires never disappeared—they only escalated from stealing a small silver thimble to plundering power and control over the entire magical world.

Harry: "..."

Dumbledore: "..."

Dumbledore hadn't fully recovered from the shock until Sherlock and Harry had completely disappeared from the office doorway.

He stood there, lost in thought, muttering to himself, "Could it be... that I was really wrong?"

"Calm down, Albus."

The portrait of Armando Dippert on the wall spoke slowly, its tone carrying a hint of comfort: "Didn't that child already say that this wasn't your fault?"

“But he also said that my judgment was flawed.” Dumbledore’s voice carried a hint of bitterness.

“That’s not your problem. I think anyone else who went there wouldn’t have done any better than you,” Dippet tried to reassure him.

“No, if Sherlock were to go, he would certainly do a better job than I would,” Dumbledore insisted.

"...There's no need to bring up things that are impossible."

Dippet shook his head helplessly. "This child wasn't even born yet back then. Do you want to use the time-tamper to go back in time?"

“My dear Armando, I will never do anything so dangerous as to defy the laws of time,” Dumbledore said firmly.

Just then, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus spoke impatiently.
"Aren't you guys annoying?"

Is it really necessary to make such a big deal out of something just something said by a teenager?

I really don't see what's so special about that boy that makes you all look at him so differently.

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

Dumbledore answered calmly.

As if sensing his emotions, the phoenix Fox beside him gently flapped its wings and let out a melodious low cry.

"Now I finally understand what Dumbledore meant by that."

As soon as Sherlock and Harry stepped out of the headmaster's office and turned the corner of the corridor, Harry eagerly spoke to Sherlock, his voice full of emotion:
"It's that saying, 'My mind is too full of thoughts; it would be nice to be able to free some up.'"

Having learned so many secrets about Voldemort all at once, I feel like my head is about to explode—oh right, there's also the Triwizard Tournament…”

"Is your brain so easily overloaded?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly teasing.

Harry scratched his head a little embarrassedly, his cheeks flushing slightly:
"Uh...that's roughly the idea."

I feel like I need a Pensieve right now, to pour all the things in my head into it and sort them out.

"There is no need for a Pensieve."

Sherlock chuckled and tapped his temple.
"Just like me, categorize and store useful information in the attic of your brain, and clear out all useless emotions and distracting thoughts."

“But I can’t do it!” Harry shrugged helplessly, his face full of distress.

"What can't you do?" A clear female voice came from the side.

Hermione and Ron emerged from the shadows along the corridor.

With joyful smiles on their faces, the two walked quickly to the two people.

"I knew you two were together!"

Hermione pulled Harry close and said nervously:
"I sensed something was wrong when Sherlock was called out."

As soon as get out of class ended, Ron rushed to me and told me what happened in class...

So, has Headmaster Dumbledore found out the reason?
Is everything alright?

She first examined Harry's forehead scar closely, and after finding nothing amiss, she turned to Sherlock and bombarded him with questions.

Ron also looked nervous, but at this moment he looked guilty and couldn't say a word.

Even then, he still believed that it was his insistence on dragging Harry to the Divination class that led to this outcome.

"It's not a big problem."

Sherlock observed their performance and then said to Harry, "It's your turn."

Harry nodded—and then the four of them talked as they walked.

Of course, it was mainly Harry who was talking, while Sherlock, Hermione, and Ron remained attentive listeners.

When they returned to the common room, Harry had already recounted everything except for the Horcruxes.

(End of this chapter)