HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts, is widely recognized as the greatest wizard of the age.

Dumbledore’s well-known contributions include: defeating the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945; discovering the twelve uses of dragon’s blood; and achieving remarkable success in alchemy with his partner Nicolas Flamel.

Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling.

On the Chocolate Frog card, the accomplishment ”defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945” was listed first among Dumbledore’s achievements, demonstrating the magnitude of this event’s impact.

However, despite being mentally prepared, when the name ”Gellert Grindelwald” was clearly spoken from Sherlock’s mouth, Dumbledore’s heart still gave a sharp jolt, as if stung by something.

In his blue eyes behind the spectacles, a complex emotion flickered briefly.

There was nostalgia for his youth, regret over past disagreements, and a trace of pain buried deep within his gaze that he had never spoken of to anyone.

He didn’t interrupt Sherlock, merely sitting quietly in his large chair with his hands gently folded on the desk before him.

At this moment, he couldn’t help but recall that wind-swept summer in Godric’s Hollow.

”Based on the information I’ve gathered, Grindelwald was superior to Voldemort in every respect,” Sherlock said, keenly noting the fluctuation in Dumbledore’s emotions but continued meticulously with his analysis regardless.

”First, there’s the matter of ideals and beliefs.

Grindelwald pursued ’the greater good.’

He desired to establish a powerful, just, and wise wizarding society, to overthrow what he considered the corrupt and backward old order of his time.

His core goal was to abolish the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy and establish a global hierarchical order led by wizards, rather than having wizards hide in the shadows.

Though fundamentally this still represented wizarding dominance over Muggles, at least his objective was global in scope, unlike Voldemort who merely fixated on pure-blood rule in Britain. The difference in vision is vast.

Next, there’s his style of action.”

Sherlock leaned forward slightly, his fingertips were tapping lightly on the desk, his gaze growing sharper. ”Grindelwald possessed exceptional personal charisma and oratory talent.

Like that one from germany, his voice seemed to carry magic, easily persuading others to embrace his ideology.

He didn’t rely entirely on fear and violence to compel people to follow him, but rather attracted a large number of like-minded wizards through promoting his ideals.

Among these followers, many genuinely believed in ’the greater good’ rather than simply fearing his power.

Though his actions were accompanied by violence, such as the magical revolution he launched across Europe, they always carried a tinge of idealism.

He consistently attempted to achieve his goals through establishing a new order, only gradually losing his way later under the temptation of power.

As for Voldemort...”

Sherlock’s tone shifted, taking on a more mocking tone. ”From beginning to end, he only maintained his power through fear and self-interest.

Death Eaters either feared his retaliation or sought to gain power and status from him—there were no ideals to speak of at all.

He acted with cruelty, preferring to create intimidation through surprise attacks and massacres of Muggles or resisters.

In my view, he was more like a gang leader—his methods of rule were simple and brutal. Beyond violence, he had nothing.

Finally, there’s the scope of influence.”

Sherlock’s voice returned to calm. ”Grindelwald’s activities spanned all of Europe. With his powerful appeal and top-tier magical ability, he sparked a revolutionary storm throughout the magical world, even controlling half of Europe’s magical forces.

His name made MACUSA wary and drew attention from the Asian and African magical community too. His influence far exceeded Britain’s borders.

Voldemort, even at his peak, only influenced Britain.

Though his terrifying reputation was known throughout the global magical community, his actual power never extended to continental Europe, much less other continents.

From this alone, Voldemort and Grindelwald simply aren’t in the same league.”

Throughout Sherlock’s exposition, Dumbledore’s expression continued to change.

Initially, his gaze was sharp, as if scrutinizing Sherlock’s analysis.

Gradually, the sharpness faded and his eyes grew gentler.

In the end, all emotions settled into a faint sense of release, as if decades of accumulated concerns had been lightly brushed aside by a corner through Sherlock’s words.

He listened quietly throughout, neither interrupting nor refuting.

It was as if he were using Sherlock’s words to revisit that period buried deep in memory—both brilliant and regretful.

Only after Sherlock finished did Dumbledore slowly raise his head and look at him deeply. ”What you’ve said is essentially correct. Grindelwald’s vision and sphere of influence were indeed far greater than Voldemort’s.

However, there’s one point you may have overlooked.

Voldemort isn’t without areas where he matches Grindelwald.”

”Oh?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. ”I’m all ears.”

”Strength,” Dumbledore’s voice was soft but conveyed a sense of certainty.

”In terms of pure personal dark magical ability, Voldemort is stronger than Grindelwald.

I’ve fought against both of them. On this point, I’m clearer than anyone.”

Sherlock paused, clearly not expecting Dumbledore to give such an assessment.

But he quickly recovered and smiled, his eyes showing a measure of agreement. ”That’s right. You’re the one who faced them both directly. Your judgment is naturally the most accurate.”

”Well then, let’s return to discussing Karkaroff,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head gently to dispel the complex emotions about the past.

He picked up the glass jar filled with cockroach clusters from the desk, reconsidered, and set it back down, his tone becoming serious once more. ”Regardless of Voldemort’s vision, his strength remains beyond question.

”Even in his weakened state, he’s still an extraordinarily powerful enemy to us.

As you just pointed out, Karkaroff’s behavior very likely indicates that Voldemort is recovering his strength. We absolutely cannot let our guard down.”

”Very well,” Sherlock said, his smile fading as his expression grew serious.

He looked at Dumbledore, his tone carrying a hint of teasing as he directly stated his request. ”Then please tell me more about Karkaroff.

”Don’t tell me he’s also a spy you’ve cultivated, like Professor Snape.”

”He certainly is not,” Dumbledore couldn’t help but shake his head with a smile. However, he quickly realized that Sherlock was joking with him.

Still, the joke was rather cold.

He suppressed his smile and stood from his chair, walking toward the black cabinet against the wall. As he walked, he said, ”Since you’re here today, you might as well take a look.

”Some things may become clearer after you’ve witnessed them firsthand rather than hearing me describe them.”

”Take a look?” Sherlock was momentarily puzzled, but when he saw Dumbledore’s next action, he immediately understood.

Dumbledore opened the black cabinet door and retrieved a stone basin with intricate carvings on its surface.

He carried the basin to the desk and carefully placed it on the smooth surface before sitting back down in his chair.

”A Pensieve? You’re going to show me your past memories again?”

”Precisely. Observing these memories directly will be more intuitive than my verbal description,” Dumbledore nodded, his gaze earnest. ”With your exceptional powers of observation, you may discover details that I overlooked back then.”

”That sounds like an excellent idea,” Sherlock didn’t refuse.

Dumbledore’s approach suited him perfectly.

He had never been able to resist the truth hidden in details.

”Then let’s begin. We’re about to enter my memory. I think you’ll find it not only vividly detailed but also completely accurate.”

As he spoke, Dumbledore drew a transparent crystal bottle from his pocket, filled with swirling, floating silvery-white substance.

He uncorked the bottle and slowly poured the silver substance into the Pensieve.

As soon as the material entered the stone basin, it began to rotate slowly.

It emitted a faint luminescence, behaving neither quite like flowing liquid nor dispersing gas, but presenting a wondrous state somewhere between the two.

”You go in first,” Dumbledore said, gesturing toward the Pensieve.

Without hesitation, Sherlock leaned over the Pensieve, plunging his face into the cold memory, then falling through darkness.

A few seconds later, his feet landed firmly on solid ground.

He opened his eyes and looked around, immediately recognizing this place.

The courtroom in the depths of the Ministry of Magic.

A year ago, he had sat in on the Wizengamot’s interrogation of Peter Pettigrew in this very location.

”I see you’ve recognized where we are,” Dumbledore’s voice sounded beside him. Sherlock turned to see Dumbledore standing next to him.

Pointing to a figure at the center of the bench, he said, ”That’s me.”

Sherlock looked in the direction he indicated and saw another Dumbledore sitting in the center of the bench.

Beside him sat Mad-Eye Moody.

What surprised Sherlock was that Moody didn’t yet have his iconic magical eye.

His two eyes were still normal, and his face bore far fewer scars than it would later. Though still serious, he possessed more vitality than in his later years.

What followed was almost identical to the scene from Peter Pettigrew’s trial a year earlier.

Two Dementors in black cloaks escorted a wizard step by step to the chair in the center.

The wizard, shrouded in the Dementors’ aura, trembled violently, his face pale as paper, barely able to stand.

The Dementors pressed him into the central chair, and the chains on the armrests immediately bound him tightly.

When Sherlock got a clear look at the wizard bound to the chair, he couldn’t help but chuckle softly, his eyes carrying a hint of mockery.

The man was none other than the current Headmaster of Durmstrang—Igor Karkaroff.

Compared to the present, the Karkaroff in Dumbledore’s memory was much younger.

His hair and beard were pure black, without a single gray strand.

He wasn’t wearing his signature sleek fur coat but rather a thin, shabby gray wizard’s robe.

Like Peter Pettigrew during his trial a year ago, having just left the Dementors’ presence, he was in a state of extreme terror.

His body shook uncontrollably, his teeth chattering audibly, his eyes filled with despair.

After the chains on the chair’s armrests bound him, a voice immediately spoke: ”Igor Karkaroff, you have been brought from Azkaban to give testimony to the Ministry of Magic.

”You informed us that you have important intelligence to report.”

From the voice alone, Sherlock already knew who it belonged to.

Barty Crouch. His position was the same as Fudge’s position during Pettigrew’s trial—in the middle of that long bench.

His face had far fewer wrinkles than it would later, and he appeared full of vigor.

Sherlock immediately understood that this memory took place before Barty Crouch’s son was arrested.

What followed was Barty Crouch questioning Karkaroff about Death Eater intelligence, while Karkaroff, like a drowning man clutching a lifeline, desperately revealed everything he knew about the Death Eaters.

Just as Lupin had previously told Sherlock, to gain his release, Karkaroff had essentially sold out every Death Eater he knew.

However, his luck wasn’t very good.

The first few names he mentioned had either already been caught by the Ministry or had died during capture.

In his desperation, he directly named Severus Snape.

Sherlock smiled.

Truly worthy of Severus Snape.

Last year at this time, Peter Pettigrew had done exactly the same thing.

Fudge had mentioned then that Dumbledore had vouched for Snape.

Now Sherlock was finally witnessing this scene firsthand.

However, Karkaroff’s luck finally turned.

After Dumbledore testified for Snape, proving his innocence, Karkaroff, to save himself, rattled off several more names of deeply hidden Death Eaters.

Just then, the scene before him suddenly blurred like smoke blown by the wind.

A few seconds later, a new scene began to emerge.

Sherlock understood—this was another new memory.

Still the Ministry’s courtroom.

But this time, the person being escorted in by Dementors was someone who surprised Sherlock somewhat.

Ludo Bagman.

At this time, he was in his prime as a Quidditch star—his nose was unbroken, his build was tall and lean , and his physique was robust.

Following the trial’s proceedings, Sherlock quickly learned that Ludo Bagman was not a Death Eater.

However, he had been charged with passing Ministry intelligence to Voldemort’s followers during the wizard war.

Faced with the charges, Bagman looked completely innocent, claiming he had no idea and thought he was gathering intelligence for his own people.

Finally, after a vote by Wizengamot members, due to lack of conclusive evidence, he was acquitted.

Sherlock scoffed again at the sight.

Then the room before him dispersed like before, and the third memory began to unfold.

This time, Sherlock only needed one glance before his spirits lifted, his gaze instantly sharpening.

Because he could clearly sense that while this was also a trial, the atmosphere of this particular memory from Dumbledore was worlds apart from the previous two trials.

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