HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

”Good heavens, how could I not have thought of that—Holmes, you’re truly remarkable!”

Hearing Sherlock’s words, Percy trembled with excitement.

Not even finding a girlfriend had made him as happy as he was now.

Sherlock sighed, ”There’s nothing to be proud of—it’s just making deductions based on existing facts.”

After a full school year, the Gryffindor students had grown accustomed to Sherlock’s way of speaking.

Although some initially thought that someone with such a peculiar personality should have gone to Ravenclaw instead.

But after experiencing one incident after another, the title of Lion King had already taken deep root in everyone’s hearts.

Since he was the Lion King, having a bit of temper was perfectly normal!

Having figured everything out, Percy immediately returned to his usual calm and composed demeanor.

After returning to his seat, he even began consoling others.

”Don’t worry, ignore them—they’re celebrating too early.”

But when others asked for the reason, he put on a mysterious air and dropped the line:

”Time will answer all your doubts.”

Seeing him like this, Ron couldn’t help feeling annoyed.

”It was clearly Sherlock who...”

He was just about to thoroughly roast his prefect brother when Dumbledore entered the Great Hall at that moment.

The headmaster’s grand entrance needed no description. With his fashionably late arrival, the original clamor gradually died down.

Once everyone had quieted, Dumbledore stood up:

”How time flies—another year has passed!”

He looked very happy, his smile noticeably more radiant than during the opening ceremony last September.

But this time, he didn’t drop a meaningless line like he had at the start of term before letting everyone eat. Instead, he addressed everyone in a loud voice:

”Before we indulge in these delicious delicacies, I must trouble you all to listen to an old man’s-tired clichés.”

ヽ（≧□≦）ノ

At this moment, the young wizards who were no longer first-years couldn’t help but widen their eyes.

What was happening? Had Professor Dumbledore fallen to their level too?

This was exactly like the opening remarks principals gave before their tedious speeches at Muggle schools!

Before they could react, Dumbledore had already begun his speech.

”Ah, what a wonderful year this has been!

I believe your little heads must be somewhat fuller than they were before.

Of course, the entire summer holiday lies ahead of you, allowing you to digest all that knowledge before the next term begins, making room in your minds.

Especially our seventh-year students who are about to graduate, leaving school to enter society and become true wizards.

As an elder who has taught you for seven years, I’d like to offer you some advice...”

As Dumbledore began his lengthy speech, the students couldn’t help but feel drowsy.

The first-year students from Muggle families couldn’t help but sigh inwardly—the headmaster had truly fallen!

Only the upper-year students, especially the seventh-years, listened earnestly.

Because they knew very well that once they left school, they wouldn’t have the chance to hear Dumbledore speak even if they wanted to.

For most ordinary people, school professors were the highest-ranking individuals they would ever encounter in their lives.

But in the lower-year students’ view, Dumbledore was spouting correct but meaningless cliches.

Even so, they patiently listened.

Because everyone knew that the main event would come after all this nonsense.

”...Now, as I understand it, we must proceed with the House Cup award ceremony!”

Finally, when Dumbledore mentioned the House Cup, everyone immediately perked up.

Especially the Slytherin students, who looked around with an air of dominance, as if asking ”Who else but us?”

Except for Prefect Gemma Farley and a few others who maintained some elegance, the rest practically had ”Everyone here is trash” written on their faces.

Sherlock took it all in and couldn’t help but shake his head silently.

He was no longer the new student who barely understood the wizarding world when he first arrived.

After a full year of study, he now clearly understood that Slytherin shouldn’t be like this.

As Professor McGonagall and the Sorting Hat had said during the Sorting Ceremony, although each house had its unique qualities, there was essentially no hierarchy—all were equally excellent.

From Sherlock’s understanding of Hogwarts history, true Slytherins should be like this:

If you lacked ability, they would naturally look down on you, but they wouldn’t bully the weak—they would simply ignore you completely.

If you possessed strength, they would show respect and work hard to befriend you, sparing no expense.

Their methods might be crude, their hearts perhaps ruthless, their motives possibly impure, but...

They would never be like this.

Using their so-called ”pure blood” status to look down on others, having inexplicable superiority complexes, constantly spouting vulgarity, bullying others with their power...

This was precisely why he felt increasingly disappointed.

In just a hundred short years.

How had Slytherin become like this!

He really wanted to say to Dumbledore and Snape:

How can you run Hogwarts properly with these vermin?

If this continues, Hogwarts will become the laughingstock of the wizarding world!

But on second thought, he was just a first-year newbie—let Dumbledore and Snape worry about such things.

Dumbledore, having finished his graduation speech, continued following his own script:

”So far, the specific scores for each house are as follows:

Fourth place: Gryffindor, 299 points;

Third place: Hufflepuff, 369 points;

Second place: Ravenclaw, 421 points;

First place: Slytherin, 495 points.”

After announcing the current scores, students from the four houses showed various expressions.

Some were smug, some dejected, some calm, some indifferent.

The reason for this scoring pattern wasn’t that the other three houses were truly inferior to Slytherin.

Gryffindor being last was easy to understand.

The little lions’ point-earning ability in class was actually decent—not bad at all.

Moreover, this year they had a super rookie who became the season’s top scorer.

But the key problem was that compared to their point-earning ability, their point-losing ability was much stronger—far too strong.

There was only one top scorer, but a whole group of point-losers.

Not to mention that Sherlock had led the little lions into a group fight with the snakes during the Quidditch match, earning them the combo of point deductions plus detention.

With gains and losses canceling out, being last wasn’t surprising at all.

The Hufflepuff students simply weren’t competitive.

In class or other situations, even when point-earning opportunities were right in front of them, they wouldn’t compete with other houses.

Unless directly called upon by professors.

Worth noting was that half of their 369 points were earned by one person.

His name was Cedric Diggory, a tall, handsome third-year wizard.

Simply terrifying!

The Ravenclaw students had a special situation.

While they could earn quite a few points from professors in class, it was often limited to topics that interested them.

For uninteresting content, they would hang high and remain aloof.

Of course, like Hufflepuff, when actually called upon by professors, they could still provide correct answers.

Having similar point-earning ability to Gryffindor while rarely losing points for breaking rules, taking second place was naturally reasonable.

Slytherin’s current ranking was as easy to understand as Gryffindor’s.

They had the strongest Quidditch team, and students often strictly followed school rules—at least on the surface.

Most importantly, compared to the other three houses, they preferred scheming and could unconsciously accumulate quite a few points.

This alone made them stronger than the other three houses.

So being in the lead wasn’t surprising.

Of course, besides these reasons, there was another very important variable.

Slytherin’s Head of House, the current Snake King, Professor Severus Snape.

This needed no further explanation—those who understood, understood.

At this moment, thunderous cheers and uneven stomping erupted from the Slytherin table.

The corner of Snape’s mouth also curved up.

As a true Slytherin, he still valued honor greatly.

”Look at that disgusting sight.”

Ron pointed toward Slytherin, his expression like he’d eaten a booger-flavored Bertie Bott’s Bean.

Those nearby followed his gaze to see Draco Malfoy vigorously banging the table with his goblet.

”Hey, Percy, is your promised time almost here?

I can barely resist giving that little face of his a good punch!” Fred Weasley said.

”One punch isn’t enough—we’d need to use both hands for two punches!” George Weasley chimed in.

Percy was naturally also displeased with Malfoy—or rather, with all of Slytherin.

”Soon, soon, just hold on a bit longer.”

Appearing calm on the surface but panicking inside.

He couldn’t help but glance at Sherlock again, thinking silently: Sherlock, you absolutely cannot let me down!

As if hearing Percy’s thoughts, Dumbledore spoke again: ”Yes, yes, everyone has performed well this year, however...”

His gaze swept around before finally settling on Gryffindor’s direction.

”Recent events must also be taken into account.”

The Great Hall fell silent in an instant.

The previously boisterous Slytherins’ smiles froze, sensing something was amiss.

Gemma Farley looked toward Sherlock and Harry, her face showing an intriguing expression.

Penelope Clearwater and Cho Chang exchanged glances, both showing surprised looks.

Professor Snape frowned at Dumbledore.

”I have some final points to award. Let me see...”

Dumbledore paused, then spoke slowly under everyone’s gaze:

”Mr. Ron Weasley!”

When his name was called, Ron’s face turned as red as his hair in an instant.

”He not only teamed up with another student to win the most spectacular game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, but also stepped forward at a crucial moment, sacrificing himself to buy precious time for his companions. For this... I award Gryffindor House fifty points!”

”Whoa——!”

The little lions’ cheers nearly lifted the enchanted ceiling, even the stars overhead seemed to tremble slightly.

Finally, your moment has come!

Percy shot up, shouting at the other prefects:

”Did you see that? That’s my brother, you know!

My brother, little Ronnie, my youngest brother!

He successfully passed Professor McGonagall’s giant chess set!”

The Weasley twins rolled their eyes in unison.

”When there’s trouble, it’s ’little Ronnie’; when there’s nothing, it’s ’Ronald’—he’s got it figured out.”

”Of course, after all, he’s the pre-fect big broth-er!”

Despite their sarcastic words, both brothers beamed with pride, sharing in the glory like Percy.

Seeing Ron in a daze, Harry couldn’t help asking Sherlock:

”Sherlock, do you think Professor Dumbledore will also give us...”

”Obviously.”

Sherlock looked at Dumbledore, who had everything under control, and said calmly, ”Tonight, glory belongs to Gryffindor.”

Harry immediately breathed a long sigh of relief.

Since even Sherlock said so, it was settled!

Dumbledore pressed his hands down, signaling for everyone to quiet down, then announced the second name:

”Miss Hermione Granger!”

Unlike the red-faced Ron, when her name was called, Hermione immediately lowered her head, burying her face in her arms.

”Facing fierce flames, she calmly applied logical reasoning, displaying superior intelligence. I award Gryffindor House fifty points.”

The little lions erupted in earth-shaking cheers again, many shouting Hermione Granger’s name, including those who had previously been annoyed by her lecturing.

Harry nudged Sherlock with his elbow, pointing at Hermione: ”She’s definitely crying in secret.”

Sherlock glanced once then looked away.

People’s joys and sorrows weren’t universal—he just found them noisy.

However, even Sherlock didn’t know that Hermione wasn’t crying at this moment.

In Hermione’s view, although she had indeed calmly reasoned as Dumbledore said and reached the correct answer.

But the first person to accomplish this was Sherlock.

Even though she had selected the potion to return to the previous room, it hadn’t been used at all.

Facing the predicament of only one small bottle of potion remaining, it was Sherlock who found the solution, leading them successfully through the flames to the final room.

Yet now Dumbledore was attributing all this to her, making her feel unworthy.

But for Gryffindor to earn these fifty points, she could only accept it silently.

This made her feel even more embarrassed.

She felt as if she had lost something important.

”Third—Sherlock Holmes!”

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