Chapter 50: The Study of Blood Letters

Tracking the troll wasn't difficult.

All you had to do was follow the horrid stench it left behind.

The only issue was that they couldn't get too close.

Even with four of them now, they still didn't stand a chance against a mountain troll in a head-on confrontation.

Thankfully, trolls weren't exactly stealthy.

They were the textbook definition of "all brawn, no brains."

So Sherlock and the others soon made their way up the stairs from the dungeon corridor.

They followed the creature a bit further, and just as it came into view again, Sherlock abruptly stopped in his tracks.

"What is it?" the others asked, startled by the sudden pause.

"This is it," Sherlock said calmly, turning and heading off in a completely different direction—away from the troll.

"Wait, what...?"

The other three had already found it strange enough that Sherlock chose to follow the troll instead of Snape.

Now, after all that effort, he was changing course entirely?

They exchanged confused looks.

Just as Sherlock turned a corner and was about to vanish from sight, they reluctantly followed him.

What they saw next stopped them in their tracks.

Ron blurted out, "Bloody hell!"

The floor, once pristine and spotless, now bore five enormous letters smeared in fresh blood.

The stark contrast was more jarring than their first glimpse of majestic Hogwarts had ever been.

It took a while before Hermione, still recovering from the earlier scare with the troll, mustered the focus to sound it out.

"R-A-C-H-E? RACHE?"

The three stared at each other, baffled.

The idea of someone writing with blood was deeply disturbing.

After a long silence, Harry swallowed hard and asked in a hushed voice, "What does it mean?"

"How should I know?" Ron rubbed his nose, clearly out of his depth.

"RACHE… Could it be Rachel?" Hermione ventured. "Maybe they were trying to write a name, but something interrupted them before they could finish?"

"You mean someone named Rachel?" Harry asked quickly.

Hermione nodded, though not entirely convinced. "That's the only thing I can think of."

She turned to Sherlock, seeking confirmation.

Harry and Ron did the same.

But they found Sherlock already deep in action.

Somehow, he had produced a measuring tape and a round magnifying glass, and was now circling the bloody letters, completely absorbed in his analysis.

He stood, knelt, and even lay flat on the floor, totally unfazed by the grisly scene.

The three of them wanted to ask something multiple times but held their tongues upon seeing his intense focus.

About five minutes later, Sherlock crouched down to inspect the letters more closely with the magnifying glass.

After a meticulous examination, he finally seemed satisfied and put his tools away.

Only then did they realize he had sewn a large external pocket onto his robes specifically to carry such items.

"Thank you for staying quiet," Sherlock said with a small smile. "It gave me just enough time to find what I needed before they arrived."

"They?"

"What do you mean?"

"What did you find?"

The trio asked at once—each with a different question.

Sherlock's gaze shifted past them to the hallway behind. "Doesn't matter. You're about to be interrupted anyway. Let's wait."

The three were even more confused now.

Ron, being the most impatient, was just about to speak when the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from down the corridor.

Professor McGonagall burst onto the scene, followed closely by Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell.

As soon as Quirrell laid eyes on the massive blood letters, he screamed, collapsed to the ground, and began clutching his chest while sobbing helplessly.

Snape immediately shot him a look of disdain and stepped away to avoid being near him.

But his scowl quickly turned on Harry.

"Potter! What kind of stunt are you pulling now?"

This time, Professor McGonagall didn't come to Harry's defense.

Instead, her eyes locked onto Sherlock, her tone icy. "Mr. Holmes, I expect an explanation."

It was clear from one glance that Sherlock was the leader of the group.

Facing McGonagall's simmering fury, Sherlock offered her a faint smile.

"An explanation? Isn't it obvious?"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron: Σ(っ°Д°;)っ

Classic Sherlock.

Snape let out a derisive snort. "Gryffindors, too proud to even explain themselves—even to their own Head of House."

McGonagall said nothing, but the pallor of her lips and the fury in her face spoke volumes.

"Don't make me repeat myself," she said coldly. "Why are you out of your dormitories?"

Sherlock sighed, genuinely bewildered that an explanation was necessary.

To him, it was all so plainly deducible.

But realizing he couldn't push his luck, he started patiently:

"During the Halloween feast, I noticed Hermione wasn't there. Ron had upset her earlier, and based on the accounts of other students, it wasn't hard to deduce that she was alone in the girls' lavatory.

When Professor Quirrell announced the troll was in the dungeons, I guessed it might encounter her.

So I headed there immediately to get her out."

Ron raised his brows at Harry and gave him a look that said: "See? He just didn't want us slowing him down!"

"…Fortunately, I reached her before the troll did.

Shortly after, I ran into Harry and Ron, who had come for the same reason.

Since we couldn't fight the troll head-on, we circled around—and ended up here."

"That's exactly what happened," Hermione immediately stepped forward to vouch for him.

This caused McGonagall's expression to ease ever so slightly.

Harry and Ron, however, were ignored completely—their testimony evidently didn't count for much.

"This is your idea of obvious?" McGonagall said sharply.

Before she could press further, Snape cut in with a sneer, "Mr. Holmes, are you suggesting professors should divine your actions purely through observation?"

It was clearly meant as mockery.

Snape never did speak kindly.

But Sherlock turned to him, utterly unbothered, and replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world:

"Isn't that exactly what you do?"

Snape was taken aback.

Before he could retort, Sherlock rapidly continued:

"For instance, I can tell you just fought the troll—and subdued it.

Also, before that, you tried to take a path guarded by a large dog, and it bit your right leg."

The moment the words left his mouth, Snape's face turned even darker than McGonagall's had been just moments before.

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