HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

The east wind arrived, and spring’s footsteps drew near. Hogwarts Castle was bathed in warm sunlight, everything appearing as if just awakened, eyes opening with delight.

The mountains became clear and moist, the water rose, and the sun’s face reddened. However, the atmosphere inside the castle was not as relaxed as the surface suggested.

Ever since Sherlock had witnessed Karkaroff showing Snape the Dark Mark, confirming that Voldemort was truly rising as the prophecy predicted, an invisible tension had lingered in everyone’s hearts.

Except for Sherlock’s. According to his companions, he should immediately go find Dumbledore and tell him about this. However, Sherlock knew in his heart that this was completely unnecessary. Everyone still held prejudices against the old bat.

Of course, this was understandable—he did things that made people prejudiced against him. But one thing was one thing, and when it came to Harry’s safety, the old bat was absolutely unambiguous.

So he would definitely take the initiative to tell Dumbledore about Karkaroff’s abnormal behavior and the changes in the Dark Mark.

Over the next few days, through observation, Sherlock became even more certain of this—which was effortless for him. The current situation was that the enemy was hidden while they were exposed.

Voldemort was hiding in the shadows, and they had no idea of his specific location or next plan. Even knowing that Voldemort’s power was slowly recovering, there was no way to take targeted measures to stop it.

In Sherlock’s view, the best response now was actually to fight your own battle—responding to change with constancy by continuing systematically to search for Voldemort’s Horcruxes and destroy them.

Only by destroying the Horcruxes could they thoroughly weaken Voldemort’s power. This was the fundamental way to deal with this disgusting fellow.

In the following time, Snape also seemed affected by this matter and stopped troubling Gryffindor and Harry. However, Snape’s wariness of Sherlock had clearly deepened.

He seemed to sense Sherlock’s observation, always feeling like he was zooming in front of this kid. He now just wanted to stay away from this person, or cast Obliviate on him the moment they met.

As for the other teachers besides Snape, they all showed great enthusiasm toward Harry.

Even Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher, hadn’t predicted Harry’s death in the last several classes. You should know that predicting Harry’s ”imminent great misfortune” in every class had almost become a fixed routine in Divination.

This sudden change left Harry pleasantly surprised.

”I bet it’s because you haven’t been attending Divination class lately, so she feels a bit regretful,” Ron said with certainty.

He said this because recently, when courses conflicted, Harry often chose to skip Divination and attend Muggle Studies instead. The success of the gillyweed had greatly increased Harry’s interest in this course.

”Perhaps,” Harry said with a smile. ”I actually find Muggle Studies more and more interesting now. You know, before Sherlock exposed Rita Skeeter, I thought she had planted bugs on other people! Otherwise, how could she know so many people’s secrets?”

”She doesn’t have that level of capability,” Sherlock said rather disdainfully. ”My dear Harry, you really overestimate her.”

Ron looked completely puzzled, scratching his nose. ”What are you talking about... did she put real bugs on people?”

As a pure-blood wizard who grew up in the magical world, Ron only half-understood Muggle vocabulary. His understanding of ”bug” would obviously only be actual insects—he had no idea it could also mean listening devices. Harry understood this and patiently explained it to him.

To make it clearer, he even referenced scenes from James Bond films, vividly explaining what hidden microphones and recording devices were. Some hidden in pens, some disguised as watches, and some that could even fit inside buttons.

Ron became increasingly engrossed, his eyes were widening, occasionally exclaiming ”bloody hell” and constantly asking about details from the films.

Hermione had originally planned to add a few words, explaining the principles of Muggle technology. But when she heard Ron continuously asking Harry about the Bond girls’ appearances, clothing, and the fight scenes in the movies, she knew it was unnecessary to speak.

Clearly, Ron’s interests lay elsewhere. Hermione stopped paying attention to Harry and Ron’s discussion and turned to Sherlock, asking curiously, ”Easter is coming up soon. What are your plans? Will you stay at school or go home?”

Usually during Easter holidays, teachers assigned large amounts of homework. Quidditch players like Harry had to intensify training during this time and the beginning of summer term, preparing for the season’s final official match.

But this year, due to the Triwizard Tournament, not only was the Quidditch Cup canceled, but even the champions participating in the Triwizard Tournament didn’t have to take final exams.

So this Easter holiday was unusually free.

”Gemma invited me to visit her home.” Under Hermione’s surprised gaze, Sherlock said without hesitation, ”She said she originally planned to invite me during winter break, but because of the Yule Ball she was too busy, so she postponed it. Now she wants to make up for it during Easter holiday.”

His tone was calm, as if he were merely stating something very ordinary.

”So... did you accept?”

”I did.”

Hermione’s feelings were somewhat complicated. But remembering that Sherlock had visited her own home more than once, and Gemma’s magnanimous behavior after returning this year, she suddenly felt relieved. It was indeed time for him to visit her home.

”Well then, I wish you a pleasant holiday in advance,” Hermione said with a smile. ”Don’t forget to send me an Easter egg.”

”As you wish, my friend.”

Aside from Sherlock, almost no other Hogwarts students would choose to leave school at this time. Because the teachers, as in previous years, had assigned large amounts of homework.

Even during the holiday without classes, students had to spend considerable time completing assignments. As for Harry, who was participating in the Triwizard Tournament, like Sherlock he didn’t have to take final exams.

But he didn’t possess Sherlock’s photographic memory and superior learning ability, which would allow him to complete homework in a very short time.

Frankly speaking, even without Quidditch training, just dealing with the homework already left him frazzled, having to stay in the common room very late every day.

Young wizards like Hermione and Ron, who had to take final exams, were even busier. They spent almost all their time on review and homework.

Hermione was even so busy that she couldn’t continue advocating for house-elf rights. However, the day before Sherlock had finished packing and was prepared to leave school, a letter brought by Watson disrupted his plans.

”It seems the visit to Gemma’s house will have to be postponed,” Sherlock said, his eyes revealing a hint of anticipation after reading the letter.

He muttered to himself, ”But compared to visiting Gemma’s house, this matter is much more interesting.”

”What, you’re saying Holmes can’t come tomorrow?”

At the Farley home, when Mr. and Mrs. Farley heard their daughter’s words, they couldn’t help showing surprised expressions. ”Did you two break up?”

”What are you talking about!” Gemma seemed somewhat helpless about her parents’ comment. ”I’ve told you more than once—Sherlock is coming to our home as an ordinary friend this time, not at all what you’re thinking!”

”Don’t I know my own daughter?” Mrs. Farley pressed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, saying somewhat anxiously, ”You have plenty of friends, but how many have come to our home? Even those who have came because of connections to the Farley family, not because of you. This is the first time you’ve actively invited a male student to visit our home!”

”The first time?” Gemma asked somewhat uncertainly.

”Your mother is right—it is the first time!” Mr. Farley said firmly.

”Alright, even if it’s the first time, it doesn’t mean anything...”

”It’s precisely because it doesn’t mean anything that there’s a problem!” Mrs. Farley grew more anxious.

”Your father and I have both met the Holmes boy. Although his personality is a bit peculiar, he’s absolutely someone trustworthy, someone you could entrust your life to. Also, his parents are quite decent people—despite being Muggles, they have no fear or prejudice toward magic, which is truly rare. And his performance in this year’s Triwizard Tournament has been so outstanding—he’s the only underage wizard among all participants under seventeen years old...”

”He’s not the only one, there’s also Harry Potter...”

”Potter is the Boy Who Lived, the only one to survive the Dark Lord, but Holmes is just a Muggle-born wizard!”

”Mother, what exactly are you trying to say?”

”I’m saying, when are you two going to make things official!”

”Sherlock is only in fourth year, he still has three years until graduation. It’s too early to talk about this...” Gemma said in a small voice, her cheeks slightly flushed.

”So what? By this time your father and I were already dating at school!”

”That’s right, we’d already kissed countless times!”

”...” Gemma took a deep breath and said somewhat helplessly, ”Dad, Mom, I’m only eighteen this year. Please don’t act like I can’t get married, okay?”

”Then hurry up and make the relationship official,” Mrs. Farley still wouldn’t give up, saying urgently. ”The Bulstrode and Fawley families have been constantly inquiring about you since hearing you returned!”

”If they want to find pure-blood wizards, why don’t they go find people from the Sacred Twenty-Eight? Why do they keep bothering with us?” Gemma said with some dissatisfaction.

”Because none of the witches from the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families are as outstanding as my daughter!” Mr. Farley said, puffing out his chest proudly.

”Then let them go find half-blood wizards or Muggle-born wizards,” Gemma said lightly, her tone carrying a hint of mockery. ”Still clinging to old pure-blood thinking and refusing to let go, considering Muggle-born wizards inferior—sooner or later they’ll be eliminated by this era.”

”Alright, let’s not talk about this. Why isn’t Holmes coming?”

”He’s not not coming, it’s just postponed,” Gemma sighed. ”He said something came up at the last minute.”

”Just postponed?” Mrs. Farley looked at Gemma suspiciously.

Gemma said firmly, ”Yes, just postponed!”

”Then quickly set a new date!” Hearing her daughter say this, Mrs. Farley immediately made the decision. ”We need to prepare again!”

Under her mother’s forceful pressure and her father’s full assistance, even Gemma had to gather her spirits and return to her room. She had her owl Irene write another letter to Sherlock, asking when he would be available, wanting to reset the visiting date.

However, by the time this letter reached Sherlock, he was already preparing to depart with Dumbledore.

”If I’m not mistaken, this should be the owl belonging to the previous Head Girl, Miss Farley, correct?” Dumbledore said with a smile, looking at Irene, who had landed on Sherlock’s shoulder and was affectionately nuzzling his cheek with her head.

”That’s right, it’s Irene.” Sherlock gently stroked Irene’s feathers while removing the letter from her foot, saying, ”I originally promised to visit her home today. She now wants to reset the date.”

He quickly scanned the letter’s contents, then said to Dumbledore without looking up. ”Oh, so your relationship is quite good?”

”Like Harry, she’s my friend.”

”Is that so? I thought you would say, ’Like Hermione.’”

”There’s no difference.”

”...” Dumbledore looked at Sherlock steadily for a moment, then looked away and laughed.

At this point, Sherlock had also finished writing his reply to Gemma and had Irene take it back. After finishing this, he looked up at Dumbledore. ”Let’s go.”

Dumbledore nodded. The starting point for Apparition was still Hogsmeade village. As for the destination... When Sherlock regained consciousness from the Apparition, the first thing he recognized was the valley that appeared before him.

And nestled between two steep hillsides was Little Hangleton, which he had visited during winter break. On the opposite hillside, the dilapidated Riddle House remained conspicuous.

However, Sherlock almost immediately realized that Riddle House was not their destination for this trip. The reason was simple. They had already been here last time. If the target were Riddle House, Dumbledore could have Apparated them directly there.

Sure enough, Dumbledore then led Sherlock along the country lane from the signpost, turning right around a bend and onto a narrow dirt road. The hedges on both sides of this road were even taller and denser than those they had just passed, with branches intertwined and tangled, forming a natural green wall.

The dirt road itself was winding and uneven, covered with stones of various sizes, their edges somewhat rounded by time and rain. Walking on it, one could clearly feel the texture of the stones.

As for the slope, it was as steep and direct as the country lane. However, this time they didn’t walk a full mile as before. Sherlock walked while observing his surroundings.

The path led down to a small patch of dark woods below, where the trees were lush with foliage, their branches and leaves interwoven, blocking out the sky almost completely, leaving only scattered spots of light and making the entire woods seem rather sinister.

Before long, the dirt road connected with that patch of low woods. A house half-hidden among the tangled bushes appeared before them.

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