HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

”Sherlock, I...” Harry looked at Sherlock, his mouth pulling into a helpless smile.

He never expected that after praising him for so long, his friend would conclude with ”completely wrong.”

He couldn’t help grumbling internally: Is this guy deliberately messing with my mindset?

But on second thought, Sherlock had no need to do this deliberately. Because he could already achieve this effect just by being himself.

Sure enough, Sherlock’s next sentence confirmed this thought: ”My dear Harry, although your conclusions are all mistaken, it’s precisely because of this that when I point out your errors, it often leads me toward the truth.”

Harry: ”...”

He silently rolled his eyes, thinking sarcastically: Well, thank you so much! I’d rather you hadn’t said anything at all!

”Of course, your fundamental reasoning wasn’t wrong. His offer to help us isn’t because he was moved by our courageous spirit, as he claimed.”

”But it’s not any of the reasons I gave either.”

”Exactly. Actually, while you were having that friendly exchange with the Ministry’s Director, I’d already deduced the reason for his behavior. The truth is, he owes those goblins a massive amount of money and is now on the verge of financial collapse.”

”Why would he owe the goblins money?”

”Remember the Quidditch World Cup? I said at the time that when he was taking bets, he completely failed to consider his own capacity to pay. This resulted in him being unable to pay out to those who’d wagered with him after the match ended. Under these circumstances, he could only rob Peter to pay Paul, borrowing from the goblins to barely maintain the situation. Now that the goblins have come to collect, his gambler’s nature has kicked in again, and he’s making another big bet. This Triwizard Tournament is his only hope of recovering his losses.”

”Um... I still don’t understand.”

”It’s simple. He’s placed a heavy wager on Hogwarts winning, betting on the side.”

”You’re saying what?”

”It’s straightforward logic, isn’t it? Although Hogwarts is hosting this Triwizard Tournament, with two of its three contestants being underage wizards, it naturally has an inherent disadvantage. The outside betting odds reflect this most clearly—among the three schools, Hogwarts has the highest odds for winning.”

”So if we can win...”

”Our dear Ministry Director will not only recoup his losses but also make a substantial profit.”

Now Harry understood completely. There really was no such thing as getting up early for no profit!

”Although his motivation is contemptible, from a positional standpoint, he is indeed aligned with us,” Sherlock said with a light laugh. ”However, we don’t need his help.”

As Sherlock and Harry were discussing this matter back and forth, the other friends remained silent, simply listening quietly.

The main reason was that Sherlock had already explained his deductive process in detail earlier.

By this point in the conversation, everyone laughed. This was a consensus among all of them.

Others thought having Sherlock and Harry participate in the Triwizard Tournament was Hogwarts’s misfortune. Little did they know that precisely because of Sherlock and Harry, Hogwarts was essentially cheating outright. How could they possibly need Bagman’s additional help?

Apart from this small interlude, the Hogsmeade trip was generally quite smooth. There were no unpleasant encounters, no melodramatic conflicts, and the main issues had all been resolved. It could be said to be harmonious and peaceful.

When they returned to Hogwarts, Harry immediately dragged Sherlock to Hagrid’s hut. He couldn’t wait for Ron to return, nor did he want Hermione, who was more sympathetic to Professor Grubbly-Plank, to come along.

Hermione understood this tacitly. Seeing that Harry didn’t invite her, she didn’t follow Sherlock and Harry. She simply asked them to convey her hope that Hagrid would return.

When the two arrived at Hagrid’s hut, they found Dumbledore right in the middle of giving Hagrid a pep talk.

Just as Sherlock had told Harry at the Three Broomsticks, Hagrid’s situation would be resolved today.

Dumbledore had prepared thoroughly for this. He presented facts, reasoned logically, drew comparisons, showed evidence, and gave examples.

He showed Hagrid many letters from parents. These parents had attended Hogwarts themselves and had deep impressions of Rubeus Hagrid, the large gamekeeper. They firmly demanded that Hagrid stay. Some parents even stated forcefully that if Dumbledore truly dismissed Hagrid, they would never let it go.

These letters moved Hagrid tremendously. Tears dripped in large drops into his tangled beard.

Yet even so, Hagrid still had doubts. He believed not everyone wanted him to stay.

Dumbledore, left with no choice, used himself as an example: ”Since I became headmaster of this school, at least one owl a week has arrived with complaints about how I’m running things. So what should I do? Lock myself in my office and refuse to speak to anyone, like you?”

”But you’re not a half-giant!” Hagrid still couldn’t work his way out of this mental trap.

Dumbledore then used his own relatives as an example: ”You know, my own brother Aberforth was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat.”

These words, though casually spoken, had deep implications for the careful listener.

When Sherlock heard this sentence, his eyes immediately sharpened. His gaze toward Dumbledore became increasingly penetrating.

However, Dumbledore didn’t notice this and continued earnestly explaining to Hagrid: ”...It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I’m not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery...”

At this point, he turned to Sherlock. ”By the way, Sherlock, you said last time you were confident you could make Ms. Skeeter stop talking?”

”That’s correct,” Sherlock nodded. ”She won’t have the opportunity to publish that kind of article again.”

”Excellent, Sherlock—then the last concern worth worrying about has been resolved, Rubeus!” Dumbledore didn’t inquire about what method he would use to accomplish this.

He stood up and looked at Hagrid firmly. ”I refuse to accept your resignation, Rubeus.”

”But Professor Dumbledore, I...”

”There are no buts. I expect you back in class next Monday.” Dumbledore said forcefully. ”Eight-thirty, and I must see you having breakfast with me in the Great Hall—and don’t you dare make excuses to avoid it.”

Although Dumbledore’s approach was contrary to his usual gentle manner, Harry still mentally gave him a thumbs up. This was exactly the right way to handle Hagrid!

”Well then, good afternoon to you all.” After saying this to Sherlock and Harry, Dumbledore bent down to scratch Fang’s ears, and Fang rubbed against his hand comfortably.

Having done this, Dumbledore turned and left, the wooden door closing gently behind him.

The moment the door shut, Hagrid could hold back no longer. He buried his face in his dustbin-lid-sized hands, his shoulders shaking violently, heartbroken sobs leaking through his fingers.

Harry quickly walked over and gently patted his thick arm, trying to comfort him.

After quite a while, Hagrid finally raised his head. Both eyes were red, tears still hanging from his lashes, his voice hoarse as he said, ”What a man... Dumbledore... what a man...”

”Yes, he really is,” Harry nodded earnestly, speaking from the heart.

At the same time, he silently apologized internally for his previous complaints about Dumbledore. He knew full well that Dumbledore had faced tremendous pressure to keep Hagrid on.

Although he’d shown Hagrid letters from parents who supported him, Harry could deduce even with his little toe that the number of people opposing Hagrid’s retention definitely exceeded those willing to let him stay.

”Yes, you’re right, and he’s absolutely right too... I’ve been such a fool... really...” Hagrid wiped away his tears, his voice full of regret. ”My old dad would be ashamed of me for this...”

As he spoke, tears began flowing again. Hagrid forcefully wiped them away and continued, ”Dad was so pleased when I got into Hogwarts... he thought I’d never become a wizard, you know, because of me mum... well, never mind. Of course, I was never that good at magic... but at least he never saw me expelled—he died, you see, in my second year...”

Hearing Hagrid speak of the past, Sherlock and Harry exchanged glances. Sherlock saw sympathy in Harry’s eyes, while Harry saw understanding in Sherlock’s.

Hagrid continued rambling tirelessly: ”After Dad died, it was Dumbledore who looked after me, got me the gamekeeper job... You know, he trusts people, always willing to give them a second chance... That’s what makes him different from other headmasters, from the likes of Karkaroff and Ma-Madame Maxime—they’re nowhere near his level! Do you understand? As long as someone has ability, Dumbledore will accept them at Hogwarts. He knows that even someone from a bad background can amount to something... This approach is truly admirable. But some people just don’t understand this. Some people discriminate against you because of your background... Some people even pretend they’re just ’big-boned’ rather than daring to speak the truth!”

At this point, Hagrid took a deep breath and said with determination: ”I am what I am, and nothing to be ashamed of. That’s right, Dumbledore is correct. I’ve been such a fool... really...”

Having resolved his inner conflict, Hagrid completely opened up. However, he was entirely unaware that he had unconsciously revealed secrets that shouldn’t have been disclosed.

Sherlock and Harry didn’t even try to stop him.

”I’m not going to let that woman bother me anymore, I promise you! Big-boned... hah, I’ll show her my big bones!”

Sherlock and Harry exchanged another glance. This topic was getting somewhat inappropriate.

Fortunately, Hagrid then changed direction and began lavishing praise on Sherlock and Harry: ”You know what I want, don’t you? I want you to win, I really do! That’ll show them all... that it’s not only pure-bloods who can do it, that you don’t have to be ashamed of your background. That’ll show them all that Dumbledore’s view is the right one. Anyone with magical ability should be allowed into the school.”

”But Harry is a pure-blood wizard,” Sherlock said rather tactlessly. ”Both his parents were magical.”

”Er...” Hagrid was immediately stumped by Sherlock’s statement. He coughed several times before continuing, ”Well... how are you getting on with that golden egg?”

”Very well, we’re making progress,” Harry quickly said, afraid Sherlock would say something else undermining. ”With Sherlock around, it’s not a problem at all.”

A damp but radiant smile spread across Hagrid’s sorrowful face. ”I knew it! Good lads... Show them, Sherlock, Harry! Let them see—you’re going to beat them all!”

When they left Hagrid’s hut, Harry couldn’t help but complain, ”Sherlock, you really shouldn’t have said that earlier.”

”If you’re referring to my emphasis on you being a pure-blood wizard, then yes, my statement was indeed inappropriate.”

Hearing Sherlock say this, Harry looked at him in surprise. He had only mentioned it casually and hadn’t expected Sherlock to actually recognize this. After all, this was just who he was.

He never imagined Sherlock would voluntarily admit to being inconsiderate. It seemed that in four years of spending time with his friends, Sherlock had finally changed.

”You can only be considered a pure-blood wizard in the broad sense. Because your mother was Muggle-born, strictly speaking, you’re still a half-blood wizard. Families like the Blacks and Malfoys definitely wouldn’t recognize you as pure-blood.”

Harry: ”...”

Is that what I was talking about?

Harry had originally planned to make a sarcastic comment, but seeing the way Sherlock looked at him, he sighed quietly. Never mind, Sherlock was Sherlock—he never disappointed, no matter when.

He’d just thought Sherlock had changed, which was far too naive of him! Some things were better left unsaid.

However, thinking that Hagrid would be back teaching them next week, Harry’s mood brightened again, and even his steps became lighter.

But Sherlock’s next sentence made his heart jump again: ”You’d better prepare yourself, Harry. Starting tomorrow, you won’t be this relaxed anymore.”

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