0112 After The Incident

Faced with Dumbledore's fatherly gaze, Snape retorted without mercy:

"I think you've forgotten another reason—that you always believed you could control the situation."

As soon as Snape said this, Sherlock laughed.

He had to admit that among all the Hogwarts professors, this most unlikeable old bat was actually the most to his taste.

Dumbledore was too calculating, McGonagall too strict, Flitwick too clever, and Sprout too simple.

Only Snape could maintain a rigorous and serious attitude toward both magic and academics, doing his job well.

He had his own behavioral logic, acted independently, and never cared about others' opinions of him.

This could be seen from the challenge he had set:

He hadn't required the intruders to brew potions but had arranged a simpler, more direct method instead.

Idiots naturally couldn't solve it, because this thing was like mathematics—if you don't know it, you don't know it.

Ordinary people would certainly scratch their heads and spend considerable effort.

If Snape were watching nearby, he would undoubtedly observe coldly while delivering a sarcastic comment:

"Though I never expected you to truly appreciate the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes and delicate power, you are indeed the kind of dunderhead fool I frequently encounter."

Only someone with a clever mind like Hermione could make the judgment quickly.

As for Sherlock...

The moment he saw the first line on the parchment—"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, two of us will help you, whichever you would find"—he had already realized what Snape was trying to do.

After reading the entire content, he immediately deduced the answer and incidentally figured out several other things as well.

Simple as child's play.

Just then, Snape suddenly turned to look at Sherlock, his fierce gaze substantial:

"Holmes, what are you laughing at?"

"I thought of something happy."

"What thing?"

"Voldemort fled in defeat."

Snape: (◣_◢)

"Severus, we should consider what comes next."

Dumbledore spoke at just the right moment, interrupting the pale faced Snape.

This also cost him an opportunity to deduct points.

Dumbledore then looked at Sherlock. "Mr. Sherlock, I hope you can help me with something."

"Continue training Harry Potter? You don't need to ask—I'll do it anyway."

Sherlock felt no surprise at all. "Not because he's the wizarding world's savior, but because he's, my friend."

"Hah, truly touching great friendship."

Snape simply couldn't change his habit of sarcasm, though when Sherlock said this, a flash of approval clearly showed in his eyes.

"Not just that. Given your outstanding abilities, I hope you can provide assistance when we need it."

When Dumbledore said this, both McGonagall and Snape looked at him with some surprise.

Was this officially acknowledging Sherlock's capabilities?

By now, Sherlock's abilities were beyond question, but making such a request to a first-year student seemed a bit too...

However, Sherlock's next words surprised them even more.

"If I encounter sufficiently interesting cases, I'll participate even without you asking—as long as you can provide me with enough convenience."

"Certainly, there is no problem. I can even pay you a personal fee."

"That's not necessary. As long as I can have fun from it, that's the best payment."

Hearing this, Dumbledore laughed heartily: "You're more like a hero than I imagined, Sherlock."

"Please don't turn people into heroes, Professor Dumbledore."

Sherlock's gray eyes stared intently at Dumbledore as he spoke word by word: "Heroes don't exist, and even if they did, I wouldn't be among them."

Upon hearing this, McGonagall and Snape exchanged glances, both seeing surprise in the other's eyes.

Dumbledore discovered another problem.

Every time he negotiated with Sherlock for a long period, he would involuntarily think of that old friend.

This time was no exception.

That thought surfaced in his mind once again.

"Gellert, there's a genius here who is like you..."

But overall, having a friend like Sherlock was truly fortunate for Harry.

"There's one more thing."

Before ending today's discussion, Dumbledore reminded them: "Harry must return to Privet Drive every summer and stay there for at least a month.

That ancient spell needs to be maintained by the power of blood relations, and Mrs. Dursley happens to be Harry's only relative in this world."

Sherlock glanced at Snape.

"Holmes, take away your insolent gaze!"

Though Sherlock hadn't said anything, Snape inexplicably felt a sense of offense.

Sherlock withdrew his gaze and clicked his tongue lightly.

Honestly, if he hadn't been busy establishing a completely new understanding of this new magical world when school started, he could have figured out Snape's youthful affairs within a week.

After all, this was someone who could express gratitude through flower language in the very first Potions class.

Even without deliberate analysis, following Harry to Privet Drive during Christmas break had allowed him to deduce the entire process.

Of course, Harry's aunt had tried desperately to hide it, but that was useless in front of Sherlock.

The matter finally passed like this.

At Professor McGonagall's demand, Dumbledore was forbidden from eating sweets for a month.

For someone like him, this punishment was already quite severe.

Worth mentioning was that on the night of the confrontation with Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest, Sherlock had once said to Dumbledore:

If the magical world still needed first-year students to protect the Philosopher's Stone, it would be better to simply destroy it.

This had originally been Sherlock's sarcasm, but unexpectedly, it came true.

Harry, who had been unconscious for a full day, woke up to find himself lying in the hospital.

On the table beside him were quite a few sweets.

"These are gifts from your friends and admirers."

Dumbledore's smiling face appeared in Harry's surprised field of vision.

"This is only the first day. I think in another two days, they could pile up into a small mountain."

After confirming from the visiting Dumbledore that Sherlock and Hermione were safe and sound, Harry couldn't help but breathe a long sigh of relief.

As long as they were okay. He had actually fainted at that moment—how embarrassing!

However, when he learned that the Philosopher's Stone had been destroyed, he was completely dumbfounded.

"Why?"

After asking this question, he immediately felt his tone was a bit harsh and quickly corrected himself:

"I mean... sir, you spent so much effort protecting the Philosopher's Stone from being taken by Voldemort. Why did you destroy it?"

"Harry, I'm very glad you can call him Voldemort instead of You-Know-Who or some other name."

When facing Harry, Dumbledore finally regained the elder's attitude he had lost when facing Sherlock.

"We should always use the correct names for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

Harry nodded: "Fear comes from the unknown. The best way to eliminate fear is to face it."

Dumbledore was even happier: "You said that wonderfully!"

"That's something Sherlock told me."

Harry said proudly.

"..."

'Well, it seemed that even when the person wasn't here, he could still exert influence.'

"I discussed it with Nicolas, and we agreed this was the best approach. You know Nicolas, don't you?"

"I do. Mr. Nicolas Flamel is your good friend," Harry said quickly. "But this way, won't he and his wife..."

"They have stored some Elixir of Life, enough to let them put their affairs in order."

"But after they use up all that elixir, they'll still die..."

"Yes, they will die..."

Dumbledore said with some emotion, "I know this might seem incredible to someone as young as you.

But for Nicolas and Perenelle, death is actually like finally going to bed after a long day.

Speaking of which, your good friend Sherlock also gave such a suggestion."

"Sherlock said that too?"

Harry couldn't help but be surprised.

"Yes, although his intention at the time was to mock me, his suggestion did give me inspiration.

When I told Nicolas about this, he also agreed wholeheartedly.

For those with truly clear minds, death is but another great adventure."

"What about Quirrell... Voldemort... what happened to them?"

"I must say, you were very well protected by your friend."

Dumbledore hummed a little tune pleasantly, looking at Harry with a smile:

"Neither Quirrell nor Voldemort managed to hurt you.

It can be said that your performance this time far exceeded my expectations.

Before I could even act, they had already fallen."

Hearing this, Harry felt a little warmth in his heart.

Although Sherlock had a strange personality and sometimes gave people the impression of being rude, arrogant, cocky, and self-righteous, once you could tolerate these shortcomings, he became the most reliable partner in the world.

This Philosopher's Stone incident made Harry feel that his meeting with Sherlock was destined.

That feeling of "as long as I follow Sherlock, I'm not afraid of anything" grew stronger.

He took a deep breath and asked again: "Sir, how exactly did I get the Philosopher's Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, I'm very glad you finally asked me about this!"

Just as Dumbledore had said, he looked extremely happy.

"This was one of my masterstroke plans, involving the understanding between you and me—quite remarkable indeed.

Only someone who wanted to find the Stone but not use it could truly obtain it."

Harry pondered this for a moment before understanding Dumbledore's meaning.

"Well, you've asked enough questions. If you want to know the detailed course of events, you might ask Miss Granger. I believe she'd be very willing to share with you."

Though Dumbledore had said he'd asked enough questions, Harry couldn't help but ask upon hearing this:

"Why Hermione and not Sherlock?"

"That question requires your own consideration. I suggest you enjoy these sweets."

Dumbledore stood up and casually grabbed a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from the table.

"Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans!

I was unlucky when I was young and accidentally ate one that tasted awful.

Since then, I haven't been too fond of eating beans.

But I think choosing a toffee-flavored one should be foolproof, don't you think?"

Before Harry could react, a familiar voice rang out:

"I'd still suggest you choose a different one."

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