Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 627 A date with the beautiful woman
When Sherlock's feet were back on solid ground, he was greeted by the familiar sight of Dumbledore's office.

It's no different from when I left:
Dark wooden bookshelves, Phoenix Fox perched on a crossbar, spinning silver instruments, and Professor Sprout sitting in a chair.

However, Barty Crouch Jr., who had been subdued earlier, was nowhere to be found, presumably having been moved to a safer place for custody.

Besides these, there was another familiar figure in the office.

Gemma Farley.

She was dressed in a neat light gray wizard's robe, and her long, smooth chestnut hair was not left loose as usual, but tied into a neat ponytail.

At that moment, she was sitting side by side with Professor Sprout, their heads close together, whispering something.

"You're finally back!"

Upon seeing Sherlock and Harry appear out of thin air, the two immediately stood up and quickly walked forward.

Professor Sprout remained composed, though a hint of relief flashed in his eyes as he raised his hand to tidy up the stray hairs by his ear.

Gemma, however, could not contain her anxiety and quickly stepped forward, tightly grasping Sherlock's hands.

"Sherlock, are you...are you alright? Are you injured?"

She couldn't help but be nervous.

The day before the Triwizard Tournament final, she and Sherlock witnessed firsthand that Mad-Eye Moody was actually someone else in disguise.

It was only then that Gemma truly realized the perilous situation Sherlock was in.

At first, she thought the imposter was Barty Crouch, the former director of the Ministry of Magic.

It was only after overhearing Sherlock's conversation with Dumbledore and Lupin in the principal's office that he realized this Crouch was not the same Crouch as the other Crouch.

The person impersonating Moody was actually Barty Crouch Jr.

The father and son share the same name, making it impossible for Sherlock to distinguish them using the Marauder's Map.

If the two appear at Hogwarts at the same time, two names "Barty Crouch" will even appear on the map.

Later, through her own persistence and Sherlock's support, Gemma was finally allowed to participate in the matter.

On the day of the final of the three-way competition, she was responsible for contacting other professors at the school.

As a former class leader, student council president, and consistently ranked first in her grade, she was an outstanding graduate and already had close relationships with the professors, making her liaison work go smoothly.

Even after Sherlock and Harry left with the Triwizard Cup, she was still busy in her office, coordinating matters with all parties.

She knew very well the purpose of Sherlock's trip, and even more so that he was about to face the infamous Dark Lord, whose name was so utterly reviled that no one dared to utter it.

The thought of Sherlock facing that vicious demon gripped her heart like an invisible hand, making even her breathing heavy.

Only when she saw the two of them standing safely in front of her did her tense shoulders relax abruptly, her eyes redden slightly, and she let out a long sigh of relief.

"Gemma, calm down."

Professor Sprout patted her on the shoulder, his gaze sweeping over Sherlock and Harry to confirm that they were both unharmed.

She said slowly:
"Both Potter and Holmes are fine."

By the way, how's the situation at the cemetery right now?
I just received word that the Aurors have already arrived—Albus successfully sent the coordinates to the Ministry of Magic…”

"The fighting is still going on over there."

Sherlock glanced at Gemma, sensing the pressure on her hands.

Gemma then realized what was happening and quickly pulled her hand back.

Sherlock calmly recounted his experience in the cemetery.

Voldemort's resurrection, Darkshine's finger regeneration, Dumbledore's timely intervention, the Death Eaters' siege and the professors' counterattack...

After hearing Sherlock's story, Harry immediately looked at Professor Sprout with great eagerness:

"Professor, you could go and lend them a hand!"

He knew very well that this professor, who was usually kind and approachable and always tended to the magical plants in the greenhouse, was no ordinary fighter.

In Harry's view, every additional person adds to the strength to fight an enemy like Voldemort.

Ideally, we should eliminate him completely tonight, while Dumbledore and his men are gaining the upper hand.

Upon hearing Harry's suggestion, Professor Sprout's gaze fell upon the Triwizard Cup beside him, a hint of eagerness flashing in his eyes, and his fingers unconsciously gripped the wand at his waist.

But after hesitating for a moment, she finally shook her head gently.
"Dumbledore told me to stay here and keep watch, and besides, the Aurors have arrived and have the upper hand in numbers."

In a battle of that level, whether I exist or not is actually of little significance.

She paused, her gaze shifting to their weary faces, her voice softening further:
"Now that you've returned safely, go back and rest."

Leave the rest to us adults.

Sherlock nodded and did not reject Professor Sprout's suggestion.

Do your best, listen to destiny.

He had already foreseen Voldemort's plot, exposed Barty Crouch Jr., and safely brought Harry to the graveyard and back. He had done everything he could.

The final cleanup work should indeed be handed over to adult wizards, led by Dumbledore, and to the Ministry of Magic, which should bear this responsibility.

Tonight's experience will likely leave an unforgettable memory for Fudge, the Minister of Magic who always tries to escape reality.

He and Harry said goodnight to Professor Sprout and Gemma, then turned and left the headmaster's office.

It was past midnight, and the next morning had arrived.

The corridor was quiet, with only the sound of their footsteps echoing on the stone pavement.

"Sherlock, do you think Voldemort will die today?"

On the way back to the Gryffindor tower, Harry couldn't help but ask.

Sherlock turned his head, glanced at Harry's furrowed brow, and smiled slightly:
“My dear Harry, when you asked me that question, you already had the answer in your heart, didn’t you?”

Harry sighed heavily, his eyes dimming. "So you still can't do it? Is it because of the Horcruxes?"

"We have now destroyed two Horcruxes—Tom Riddle's Diary and Marvolo's Ring."

Sherlock slowed his pace and calmly analyzed:
"This means that even if Voldemort dies in battle today, fragments of his soul will remain attached to the remaining four Horcruxes and will not be completely destroyed."

More importantly, he has now been resurrected, and once he realizes that a Horcrux has been destroyed, he will immediately become alert and strengthen the protection of the remaining Horcruxes.

Then it will be much more difficult for us to find and destroy them.

Dumbledore knew this perfectly well, so he wouldn't take the risk.

He paused and added:

"Moreover, given Voldemort's strength, if he wanted to leave, even Dumbledore might not be able to force him to stay."

Harry fell silent upon hearing Sherlock's words.

Although he was unwilling to admit it, he knew that Sherlock was telling the truth.

In this world, there are very few people who can fight Dumbledore to a draw.

"Don't think too much about it, bro."

Sherlock patted Harry on the shoulder:

“We succeeded the moment we used the Portkey to lead Dumbledore and the professors to Voldemort.” “Successed?” Harry looked up, puzzled.

"Yes."

Sherlock nodded:
"Voldemort certainly won't just die like that, but his newly assembled Death Eaters are a different story."

As a result, the makeshift team he had painstakingly built collapsed once again.

For the next period of time, his focus will be on healing and regrouping.

This gives us enough time to continue searching for the remaining Horcruxes.

Harry suddenly understood and nodded slightly.

He suddenly remembered that if Sherlock hadn't foreseen Voldemort's plot and exposed Barty Crouch Jr., he would have been facing Voldemort, now at his full strength, and a group of Death Eaters alone tonight.

That wasn't the weak soul that possessed Professor Quirrell four years ago, nor was it the memory from the Chamber of Secrets three years ago.

Instead, it was the Dark Lord who regained his physical body and restored his power.

Harry couldn't help but shudder at the thought of that scene.

Fortunately, this terrible disaster did not occur.

When the two returned to the Gryffindor Tower, the common room was already empty, with only a faint flame remaining in the fireplace.

When we arrived at the dormitory, Neville's snoring was deafening, like thunder, indicating that he had been sleeping for a long time.

Harry lay in bed, his mind replaying the battle in the graveyard, Voldemort's hideous face, and Dumbledore's composed counterattack, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

He finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted, as dawn broke on the horizon.

When I woke up again, there was a lot of talking in the dormitory.

"Hey Harry, get up! Someone's here to see you!"

Ron's voice rang in my ears, tinged with a hint of mockery.

"Let me sleep a little longer, just a little longer..."

Harry rubbed his sleepy eyes, rolled over, and wanted to stay in bed longer.

"Hey Zhang, you saw it too, it's not that we didn't call him, it's just that Harry can't get an erection in bed!"

Ron's voice grew closer, accompanied by a burst of laughter.

"open?"

That familiar yet heart-pounding name struck Harry like an electric current.

He suddenly opened his eyes, and what came into view was Qiu Zhang's exquisite face.

Her long, black hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, and her cheeks were flushed.

Cho Chang stood behind Ron, a hint of a smile and shyness in her eyes.

Harry sprang up from the bed instantly, his hair standing on end in a mess, and the collar of his pajamas askew.

His cheeks flushed bright red instantly: "Qiu, you... how did you get here?"

"Please, don't you even look at the time?!"

Ron crossed his arms and pointed out the window: "It's already high in the sky, the sun's practically shining on your backside!"

Harry instinctively looked out the window and saw golden sunlight streaming into the dormitory, casting long patches of light on the floor; it was clearly noon.

His face turned even redder, and he hurriedly grabbed the school uniform robe next to him and put it on quickly, his fingers almost disobeying his commands.

"It's okay, I'll wait for you."

Qiu Zhang smiled gently, a shallow dimple appearing at the corner of her mouth, her eyes clear and tender.

Her beautiful appearance stunned Ron, Dean, and Neville in the dormitory, leaving them speechless for a moment.

After Harry quickly finished washing up and tidying his clothes and hair, he finally understood what had happened.

It turned out that he had only fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning and was unable to get up on time as usual.

The roommates asked Sherlock and learned that they had returned from the headmaster's office very late last night, and seeing that Harry was sleeping soundly, they decided not to wake him up for breakfast.

Around noon, Cho Chang ran into Ron when he came to find Harry.

Ron had long seen through the relationship between Harry and Cho Chang.

As the saying goes, good brothers are loyal and righteous, so he simply went along with it and invited Qiu Zhang to come to his dormitory.

Qiu Zhang hesitated for a moment, but still agreed.

Who knew that Harry was still asleep when she arrived, which led to that awkward yet funny scene.

Amidst the cheers and jeers of their roommates, Harry and Cho Chang still made their way to the Gryffindor common room.

Qiu Zhang gently placed her hands on her knees and asked cautiously:
"Was last night... all right?"

She knew that Harry and Sherlock had been called to the headmaster's office last night and that they hadn't returned until very late, so she was a little worried.

However, she did not ask what exactly happened.

Upon hearing this, Harry's smile faded, and he sighed softly.

He didn't know how the battle in the cemetery would end.

Sherlock took Neville to the playground for morning exercise early in the morning, and after they returned and had breakfast, they disappeared.

"By the way, the Daily Prophet published the news that Hogwarts won the Triwizard Tournament!"

Cho Chang seemed to remember something, pulled a folded newspaper from his pocket, and handed it to Harry, his eyes sparkling:
"Congratulations, Harry! You, Sherlock, and Diggory are all amazing!"

Harry's cheeks flushed again when he saw the headline "Hogwarts Wins the Triwizard Tournament" in the newspaper.

The hallucination he had when he saw the Three Strong Cup in the maze flashed involuntarily through his mind.

In that hallucination, he almost met Qiu Zhang...

Thinking of this, he quickly shook his head, shaking off this sudden thought, and at the same time secretly despised himself.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Qiu Zhang noticed his unusual behavior and asked him with concern.

"N-nothing!" Harry quickly waved his hand, his eyes darting around. "I'm just a little tired."

Seeing his flustered state, Qiu Zhang couldn't help but smile, a faint blush rising on her cheeks.

She hesitated for a moment, as if she had made a great decision, and said softly:

"Actually, I came to see you today to ask if you... have time during the summer vacation?"

Her large eyes were fixed on Harry as she spoke:
"My parents... they would like to invite you to their home."

Harry was completely stunned and for a moment forgot to respond.

Sunlight streamed through the window and fell on his face, making his cheeks appear even redder.

(End of this chapter)