HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

The sound of footsteps echoed softly and clearly on the spiral staircase leading to the Headmaster’s office.

When Sherlock reached the top, the gargoyle guarding the entrance immediately raised its head.

As its stone eyes swept across Sherlock’s face, it didn’t hesitate for a moment, it decisively jumped aside, clearing the path to the office.

When it came to entering the Headmaster’s office without using a password, Sherlock was truly in a class of his own.

When Dumbledore saw Sherlock, he appeared quite surprised.

He set down a glass jar, wiped the corners of his mouth, and his eyes held a measure of curiosity.

After all, it was still the Christmas holiday.

Sherlock’s expression remained impassive as he withdrew his gaze from Dumbledore.

He had seen quite clearly that Dumbledore had just extracted a living cockroach from a glass jar and tossed it into his mouth.

Sherlock had no comment on Dumbledore’s peculiar taste.

”I had originally intended to find Professor Snape,” Sherlock said without ceremony as he sat down across from Dumbledore, directly stating his purpose. ”But the moment he saw me, he left. He’s deliberately avoiding me.”

Dumbledore glanced at Sherlock, thinking to himself: Don’t you have any idea why Severus would be avoiding you? To have driven a master of Occlumency to such extremes is simply...

For a moment, even the battle-hardened and worldly-wise Dumbledore found himself at a loss for words.

Even in Hogwarts, where everyone harbored secrets, Severus Snape was no ordinary character.

It was well known that while Voldemort was a dark lord, his skill in Legilimency was something even Dumbledore had to acknowledge as superior to his own.

Yet Severus Snape had managed to remain undercover at Voldemort’s side all along—such ability was truly remarkable.

There was one thing Dumbledore had never told anyone.

If Voldemort truly returned, he planned to have Snape resume his old role and infiltrate Voldemort’s inner circle once more.

Yet this very same man was now forced to avoid a fifteen-year-old wizard out of fear that his secrets might be discovered.

If he hadn’t witnessed it multiple times with his own eyes, Dumbledore would never have believed it.

”Very well, then can you please tell me why you were looking for him?” Dumbledore gathered his thoughts, leaning forward slightly as his tone grew more serious.

Just as he knew what kind of person Snape was, he also knew that Sherlock would never seek out Snape without good reason.

Much less would he come here to complain about being avoided—there had to be a deeper cause.

”Karkaroff,” Sherlock said directly, dropping the name.

Dumbledore, who had just been feeling somewhat helpless about the situation between Sherlock and Snape, immediately focused his gaze intently. ”What exactly do you know?”

”Not much,” Sherlock replied, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped beneath his chin, his tone matter-of-fact as he laid out what he knew. ”Only that he was once a Death Eater who later betrayed too many of his associates to earn his release from the Ministry of Magic.

”After that, he fled to Durmstrang, became a professor there, and is now their Headmaster.”

At this point, a faint, cold smile curved his lips, his eyes clearly conveying disdain.

He was obviously deeply dissatisfied with Durmstrang’s approach of ”not asking about one’s background, only valuing ability”—especially when that ”ability” involved the Dark Arts.

”Durmstrang has always been this way...” Dumbledore naturally understood what Sherlock was scorning. He sighed softly, his tone tinged with helplessness. ”They don’t care about Karkaroff’s past. After all, when it comes to Dark Arts research and teaching, he genuinely has real skill—that much cannot be denied.”

”Of course. After all, he was a Death Eater. In the field of Dark Arts, he’s naturally an expert,” Sherlock’s voice dripped with mockery.

Dumbledore shook his head helplessly. ”But what does this have to do with Professor Snape?”

”Last night, my friend happened to overhear a conversation between him and Professor Snape,” Sherlock said earnestly. ”My friend didn’t understand the significance of their exchange, but knowing the backgrounds of both men makes this matter rather interesting.”

He then recounted the entire conversation between Snape and Karkaroff word for word.

Dumbledore listened quietly throughout. Once Sherlock had finished, he asked, ”What’s your assessment, Sherlock?”

Sherlock had anticipated this question before bringing up the matter, so he already had his answer prepared.

”As I just said, if one doesn’t know the identities of Professor Snape and Karkaroff, these words would naturally be difficult to understand—just like my friend.

”But knowing both men’s identities, I deduce that when Karkaroff spoke of ’it becoming increasingly clear,’ he was referring to the Dark Mark on Death Eaters’ arms.

”The Dark Mark becoming clearer means Voldemort’s power is recovering.

”If Voldemort truly returns as our Divination professor predicted, Karkaroff, who gained his freedom by betraying most of his fellow Death Eaters, will inevitably face retaliation.

”It’s precisely because he senses this that Karkaroff is panicking.

”However, from Professor Snape’s words, it’s evident he has deep feelings for Hogwarts.

”Furthermore, he still maintains some degree of loyalty toward Karkaroff.”

Dumbledore nodded. ”I agree with your assessment, Sherlock.

”I trust Professor Snape completely—I would readily entrust my life to him.

”As for his ’defense’ of Karkaroff, it stems precisely from Karkaroff’s actions back then.

”You may find his betrayal of his comrades contemptible, but for us, the numerous Death Eaters he exposed did objectively reduce the danger we faced.

”It’s precisely because of this that Professor Snape is willing to ’defend’ him.”

”So Voldemort’s strength really is growing? Do you know his whereabouts?”

”I’m afraid not... Though I’ve been searching continuously for him, young Crouch, and that ally of his from Harry’s dreams, I still have no news. Neither does the Ministry of Magic.”

Dumbledore’s gaze grew grave as he spoke.

”Forget the Ministry—I’ve never placed any hope in them. They’re nothing but a bunch of incompetent fools who can’t even measure up to Scotland Yard,” Sherlock said dismissively.

”But speaking of which, this matter has raised some questions in my mind about certain aspects of Voldemort.”

”What questions?”

”Voldemort...” Sherlock began slowly, posing a question that would shock the entire wizarding world. ”...Is he really as powerful as everyone imagines?”

Hearing this, surprise flashed briefly through Dumbledore’s eyes. He frowned slightly, his tone taking on a more serious quality. ”Sherlock, why would you think that?

”You must understand that even now, many people still dare not speak his name directly.

”For a very long time, the entire wizarding world lived under his dark rule.

”Countless wizards died at his hands and those of his Death Eaters.

”How could you possibly think such a person isn’t powerful?”

”I used to think the same way, but now my perspective has changed,” Sherlock replied, unaffected by Dumbledore’s tone. He pressed his fingertips together under his chin. ”Through my investigation, I’ve discovered some interesting things.”

”Interesting?”

”Exactly. Interesting.”

Sherlock’s gaze sharpened. ”Even at the peak of Voldemort’s power—during the wizard war—his sphere of influence always centered on Britain itself. He never broke beyond national borders to establish truly international rule.

”This is evident from three perspectives.”

As he spoke, Sherlock raised three fingers. ”First, Voldemort’s core strength was the Death Eater organization.

But the Death Eaters were predominantly British wizards, with virtually no members from other countries.

The tools he used to control the government—the British Ministry of Magic and to control education—Hogwarts were purely British magical institutions.

He had no jurisdiction whatsoever over Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, the other two major European magical schools.

Not to mention the Magical Congress of the United States of America, or organizations in Asia and Africa.

Second, even during Voldemort’s peak period, other magical nations’ attitude toward him was merely vigilant, not actively opposed.

European countries like France, Germany, and Italy only discussed rumors about Voldemort privately, but never sent Aurors to support Britain.

While Karkaroff was indeed a Death Eater, his fear and compliance were personal choices that in no way represented Durmstrang, much less the magical government of his nation.

As for the American magical world, MACUSA only issued additional screening measures for British wizards entering the country, without taking any substantive confrontational action.

The magical governments of Asia and Africa didn’t even list Voldemort as a first-tier threat—they merely regarded him as Britain’s internal dark wizard problem.

Third, Voldemort’s own goals had significant limitations.

What he pursued was nothing more than overthrowing the British Ministry of Magic and establishing a British magical world ruled by pure-blood wizards.

He never considered extending his objectives to other countries, nor did he harbor ambitions to conquer the global magical world.

So in retrospect, Voldemort was merely that—nothing more.

His influence on the magical world was limited to Britain. He couldn’t even reach across all of Europe, much less the entire globe.

From this perspective, he falls short even of some Muggle leaders, who at least managed to extend their influence across multiple countries.”

Under Dumbledore’s increasingly astonished gaze, Sherlock spoke eloquently, laying out his analysis of Voldemort point by point.

Each argument was supported by clear evidence, the logic so tight it left no room for refutation.

Finally, he shifted his tone and looked at Dumbledore, his voice taking on a rare note of approval. ”Of course, you deserve considerable credit in this matter.

It was precisely because of the Order of the Phoenix, led by you, that firmly contained Voldemort’s forces within Britain, preventing him from having any capacity to expand outward and cause greater harm to the magical world.”

Dumbledore opened his mouth but found himself unable to say a single word.

He had never imagined that a fifteen-year-old underage wizard would analyze Voldemort from such a calm, objective, even somewhat condescending perspective.

And to say something like ”Voldemort is merely that—nothing more.”

Even adult wizards who had lived through the wizard war couldn’t help but feel fear when Voldemort was mentioned.

Yet Sherlock’s tone contained only pure analysis, without a trace of fear.

They say ignorance breeds fearlessness, but Sherlock knew Voldemort in considerable detail and still spoke this way.

But what surprised him even more came next.

Sherlock’s lips curved into a cold smile, his eyes growing increasingly derisive. ”In my view, the fundamental reason for Voldemort’s failure lies in his governance platform being far too narrow.

To call him a tyrant of the British magical world would actually be flattering him.

He fanatically pursued pure-blood supremacy, believing pure-blood wizards superior to all others, dedicated to eliminating Muggles and half-blood wizards.

At the same time, he desperately craved immortality. To escape death, he was willing to tear his soul into pieces and create Horcruxes.

All his objectives were based solely on his own twisted desires for power, eternal life, and pure bloodlines, with no higher aspirations whatsoever.

His personal power was indeed formidable, but unfortunately, not formidable enough to steamroll all opposition.

So even without that ancient protective charm causing his downfall back then, his rule was destined to be short-lived.

A regime maintained only through fear and violence, without any grand vision, will inevitably collapse.”

”Sherlock, you truly astonish me,” Dumbledore finally found his voice again. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles, his eyes behind the lenses filled with complex emotions.

There was surprise, admiration, and a hint of barely perceptible concern. ”Do you realize what would happen if these words you’ve spoken today were to get out?

”Bold, arrogant, contemptuous of everything—these negative labels would immediately be attached to you.”

”First, I don’t believe these words can get out,” Sherlock’s smile grew more pronounced. ”Second, those labels are quite accurate—that’s exactly the kind of person I am.”

Dumbledore fell silent.

Once again, he found himself at a loss for how to respond to Sherlock’s directness.

After a brief silence, Sherlock changed the subject and introduced a new topic. ”Actually, compared to Voldemort, I think another Dark Lord—oh wait, strictly speaking, he doesn’t quite qualify as a Dark Lord.

”In any case, that individual’s vision far exceeds Voldemort’s.”

The look in Dumbledore’s eyes behind his spectacles instantly sharpened.

His previously gentle aura suddenly tightened as he stared intently at Sherlock, his voice lowering several degrees. ”Sherlock, who are you talking about?”

”Who else could it be?” Sherlock chuckled lightly, his tone knowing, as if he had fully expected Dumbledore’s reaction.

”Naturally, the person who made such a significant contribution to your main achievement on the Chocolate Frog card—Gellert Grindelwald.”

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