HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

Compared to the senile, vacant-faced elderly Sherlock, the young healthy version was full of vitality.

Under the gaze of Sherlock, Harry, and Remus, he suddenly chuckled softly. ”So, this is a possible future sample of degeneration?”

The pipe spun elegantly between his fingers, his voice different from the current Sherlock’s, carrying a metallic penetrating tone.

”It—it spoke! It actually spoke!”

Harry looked at him in shock.

What was going on?

This was getting more and more bizarre!

Remus was slightly better off than Harry, but was equally surprised by this scene.

The young Sherlock continued his output.

”Look, this is a typical case of neuronal synaptic residual pathological change, dendritic spines showing irregular alternating proliferation and atrophy, decreased efficiency of neurotransmitter transmission in synaptic gaps, accompanied by systemic collapse of logical centers.

Prefrontal cortex neuronal apoptosis exceeds normal metabolic rates, focal necrosis appears in temporal lobe language centers, and parietal lobe neural circuits responsible for spatial reasoning show diffuse demyelination changes.

Hmm, indeed interesting—but utterly worthless.”

Harry and Remus stared dumbfounded at the scene before them.

The real Sherlock stood in the center of the classroom; his gray eyes gleaming with investigative light.

The adult version of Sherlock transformed by the Boggart reclined lazily on the sofa, blue smoke still rising from the pipe at his fingertips.

Two Sherlocks in the same frame created a bizarre yet wonderful picture.

For a moment they couldn’t speak, only stare blankly.

Sherlock himself gazed at the phantom smoke rising from the pipe, the corners of his mouth forming an almost invisible arc.

”Utterly worthless?

The ’utterly worthless’ you speak of—does it refer to the possibility of this decline itself, or to your perception of it?

Never mind, you needn’t answer—because fate is in my own hands, my future can only be defined by myself, so—”

He suppressed a smile, waved his wand to disperse the faint smoke, and turned aside. ”Your turn, Harry.”

Having said that, he voluntarily stepped aside.

The young Sherlock didn’t answer, but his face beamed with a smile.

”O-okay!”

Hearing Sherlock’s words, Harry finally recovered from the shock of two Sherlocks.

Seeing Sherlock step back, he understood what he should do, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

That adult Sherlock Holmes wearing a deerstalker cap, holding a pipe in one hand and a walking stick in the other, vanished in the smile.

In its place was once again the sinister, terrifying Dementor.

Almost instantly, the lights flickered twice then simply went out, and the classroom became cold and dark once more.

”Expecto Patronum!”

Harry gathered his courage and shouted.

He raised his wand and kept repeating the spell. ”Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!”

This time, the screaming in Harry’s mind appeared again.

But unlike the previous times, this time the sound was no longer so clear, but rather like coming from a poorly tuned radio.

Rising and falling, rising and falling...

Harry’s vision wasn’t covered by white mist as before either; he remained conscious and could still see the Dementor.

A huge silver shadow spurted from his wand tip, suspended between him and the Dementor.

The Dementor immediately stopped before him.

At this moment, Harry felt his legs weak and powerless.

But he stood firm!

Though he wasn’t sure how long he could keep standing, he was standing, hadn’t passed out!

This feeling reminded him of the public trial.

At that time he had merely observed, not faced the Dementor directly, but it was a similar feeling to today.

”Riddiku—”

Remus was about to speak when he suddenly realized and quickly turned to Sherlock, ”Sherlock, do you want to try?”

”Of course!”

Sherlock smiled slightly and stepped forward.

”Expecto Patronum!”

As Sherlock recited the Patronus Charm, a huge silver shadow also appeared from his wand tip.

Compared to Harry’s blurry form, Sherlock’s Patronus outline was much clearer—a lion.

With a snap, Harry’s indistinct Patronus disappeared along with the Dementor.

The aged, decrepit Sherlock in the wheelchair appeared once more.

Sherlock frowned.

The Patronus summoned through the Patronus Charm clearly had no effect on the Boggart. He raised his wand again.

”Riddikulus!”

With a light snap, the adult version of Sherlock appeared once more.

Unexpectedly, he leisurely exhaled a perfect smoke ring, his voice clearly speaking.

”How long do you intend to keep playing?”

Professor Lupin felt his scalp tingle.

Sherlock and Harry—these two young wizards were both freaks.

That Harry could make the Boggart transform into a Dementor was already incredible enough, but at least it could be explained as his greatest fear being fear itself.

But what on earth was happening with Sherlock?

He feared losing his ability to think, and after using Riddikulus, he actually reproduced an adult version of himself with thinking ability?

As someone bearing werewolf blood, an Order of the Phoenix member who had participated in wizarding wars and always fought on the front lines against Voldemort, Professor Lupin could definitely be called battle-hardened and experienced.

But he had never encountered a situation like this!

”Riddikulus!”

Seeing Sherlock tilt his head, still pondering something, Remus simply rushed forward.

The Boggart immediately transformed into a silver orb again.

Using his wand to drive it back into the box, Remus finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned around and strode to Harry, ”Excellent, Harry! Finally making progress!”

Then he looked at Sherlock, ”You too, Sherlock! You’re both among the most talented wizards I know, to reach this level on your first practice!”

’Also, the strangest wizards I know.’

Remus silently added in his mind.

”Can we try once more?”

From the moment Sherlock had stepped in to take over, Harry had collapsed into a chair.

Even now he still felt exhausted, as if he had just run a mile, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

”Not now!”

Seeing Harry’s condition, Remus said firmly, ”You’ve practiced enough for one evening. Here—”

He once again handed the prepared chocolate to Sherlock.

”Eat it, or Madam Pomfrey will come after me.”

”All right.”

Harry, seeing the determination in Professor Lupin’s eyes, knew there was no arguing.

He bit into the chocolate, and that familiar feeling quickly returned, his limbs becoming warm at once.

Remus relit the lights that had gone out again with the Dementor’s disappearance, then looked hesitantly toward Sherlock.

”Sherlock, would you like some too?”

”I’ll pass.”

Sherlock smiled slightly, taking out a flat flask of brandy from inside his clothes and taking a light sip. ”I prefer this.”

Remus nodded.

Sherlock was less affected by Dementors than Harry to begin with.

Moreover, by practicing with a Boggart, Sherlock never had to face an actual Dementor.

Seeing that Sherlock only took a small sip of spirits before putting it away, Remus swallowed the words of caution he had prepared.

”So—same time next week?”

”No problem.”

”Rest a bit more before you leave. It’s getting late.”

Both nodded.

During the time waiting for Harry to recover, Sherlock also chatted with Professor Lupin.

He asked seemingly casually. ”Twenty-something days left, isn’t it?”

Remus was stunned at first, then realized what Sherlock was talking about and couldn’t help but smile bitterly while nodding.

”Yes, once a month, this is my fate—”

”Would you mind telling me how it happened—how exactly did you become a werewolf?”

(°_°)

Remus looked at Sherlock in surprise. He hadn’t expected this boy to ask that question so casually.

Harry on the side could only smile bitterly.

This was Sherlock—always saying whatever was on his mind.

”How about it, is it inconvenient?”

Remus: ”...”

He took a deep breath, ”It’s not particularly inconvenient. Since you’re willing to listen, I’ll tell you.”

Remus John Remus—he was a half-blood wizard. His father, Lyall Lupin, was a very intelligent man who by age 30 had already become a renowned authority on Non-Human Spirituous Apparitions in the magical world.

During an investigative trip to a Welsh forest, Lyall met his future wife, a beautiful Muggle girl named Hope Howell.

Shortly after this romantic encounter, the two married, and Hope naturally learned about the existence of magic from Lyall.

The couple were deeply in love after marriage, and in the second year gave birth to Remus Lupin.

Unsurprisingly, Remus displayed magical talent at a very young age.

So, the couple both believed he would certainly attend Hogwarts in the future.

When Remus was four years old, Dark magical activity within Britain was increasingly rampant.

Though the truth behind more and more attacks and sightings was little known, looking back, Voldemort’s rise was brewing at that time.

It was against this backdrop that Death Eaters following Voldemort gathered together, recruiting various Dark magical creatures to join them in opposing the existing magical system.

For this purpose, the Ministry of Magic assembled many Dark magical creature experts to help clarify and contain the crisis, with many joining the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Lyall Lupin was one of them.

But he never imagined that this action would bring disaster upon his family, especially young Remus.

During one work assignment, Lyall encountered a criminal suspect named Fenrir Greyback at the Ministry.

Because of the deaths of two Muggle children, this person had been called to the Ministry for questioning.

At the time, Fenrir Greyback was filthy from head to toe. He claimed to be just a vagrant, completely ignorant about wizards and Muggles and such.

He even acted frightened when wizards displayed magic before him and heard about those two children’s deaths.

The Ministry didn’t have anyone skilled in observation and deduction like Sherlock, and the interrogation committee staff had been overworked for a long time. Finding no wand on Fenrir Greyback, they believed his lies.

But Lyall Lupin discovered a blind spot.

He noticed characteristics in Fenrir Greyback’s appearance and behavior, leading him to a bold hypothesis.

Fenrir Greyback was very likely a werewolf!

So, he told the committee members they should hold Greyback until after the next full moon to confirm he showed no abnormalities before releasing him.

This suggestion was perfectly reasonable—when a professional raises doubts, it should naturally be taken seriously.

Coincidentally, the next full moon was in twenty-four hours, so the verification cost was very low.

However, Lyall was mercilessly ridiculed by his committee colleagues.

As for Greyback himself, he sat quietly, saying nothing.

Under these circumstances, the usually mild-mannered Lyall became unexpectedly furious.

He loudly accused the committee members of irresponsibility, because werewolves were ”soulless, evil creatures that deserved to die,” making no effort to hide his contempt and anger toward werewolves.

This behavior angered the interrogation committee, and they directly ordered Lyall to leave.

The committee chairman even personally apologized to Greyback, who had been treated as a vagrant, and released him.

According to regulations, the wizard escorting Greyback out was supposed to cast a Memory Charm on him.

Unexpectedly, Lyall’s judgment was correct—Fenrir Greyback really was a werewolf!

As a result, before the wizard could cast the Memory Charm, he was subdued by Greyback’s two accomplices.

The three werewolves escaped just like that.

Hearing this, Harry had already vaguely guessed what would happen next and couldn’t help but slam his fist on the table in anger.

”The Ministry of Magic is utterly useless!”

So many years, always the same.

Professor Lupin shook his head with a bitter smile and continued.

”What happened next, neither my father nor I knew.

But I imagine that Fenrir Greyback must have told his accomplices about my father’s attitude toward werewolves—otherwise their revenge wouldn’t have come so swiftly and terribly.”

Just before Remus’s fifth birthday, as he lay sleeping in bed, Fenrir Greyback suddenly broke in.

Smashing through the window, he attacked him.

Fortunately, Lyall arrived in time, using powerful magic to drive off Greyback and save his son’s life.

Unfortunately, it was already too late.

Five-year-old Remus had been bitten by Greyback and from that point on became what Lyall had called ”soulless, evil, and deserving only of death”—a werewolf.

This was precisely Greyback’s revenge on Lyall. You hate werewolves most and think they deserve only to die?

Then I’ll turn your son into a werewolf—let’s see if you’ll let him die too!

One can imagine how deeply Lyall regretted it.

He had merely repeated the common view of werewolves held by those around him, yet suffered such devastating disaster.

Even now, he could never forgive himself for the words he spoke in front of Greyback during that interrogation.

The other committee members from that interrogation were unharmed, and even the wizard who escorted Greyback out was fine.

Only his son, five-year-old Remus would from then on lose his reason during full moons, undergo extremely painful transformations, and pose a threat to those around him.

”That’s how it happened.”

Remus let out a long sigh.

Harry was too shocked to speak.

Sherlock, however, after pondering for a moment, asked. ”Your mother must have told you these things, right?”

”How did you know?”

Remus looked at Sherlock in surprise—he hadn’t mentioned that just now!

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