0113 Regrets

The air around Hogwarts' hospital wing was filled with a faint, pleasant herbal fragrance.

Madam Pomfrey hurried forward, leading Sherlock, Hermione, and Ron to Harry's bedside.

She first greeted Headmaster Dumbledore, then frowned at Sherlock, who stood at the front of the group, and said curtly, "Only five minutes."

"Of course, madam," Sherlock replied with a slight bow, speaking with perfect politeness.

"However, I suggest you might want to look for your bandages. I believe you've dropped them somewhere."

Upon hearing Sherlock's words, Madam Pomfrey instinctively looked down. Her eyes widened instantly, and she let out a startled exclamation:

"Oh, Merlin's beard!"

Her hands frantically searched her person before she turned and hurried away. Her movements were so quick that her robes stirred up a small breeze.

Dumbledore was no longer surprised by Sherlock's ability to deduce that Madam Pomfrey had lost her bandages. At this moment, his surprise stemmed more from Sherlock's polite attitude toward the nurse.

He stroked his long beard and said, "Sherlock, I never knew you could be so courteous."

"I was always courteous to you too, sir, until you let Harry face Voldemort directly," Sherlock replied, raising his chin slightly and meeting Dumbledore's gaze with calm directness.

Dumbledore's mouth twitched slightly, and his expression froze for a moment. He felt as though he was asking for this type of reprimand.

So, he decided to change the subject. His gaze fell on the candy box on the table, and Dumbledore picked up a toffee-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean, saying:

"You mentioned earlier that you wouldn't recommend I eat this toffee-flavored bean?"

"Just a personal feeling," Sherlock replied calmly, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Very well."

When it came to such matters, Dumbledore was quite willing to take advice. Without hesitation, he put down the golden-brown bean and selected a dull gray one from the box, popping it into his mouth.

Soon, his brow relaxed, and his face showed satisfaction: "Ah, pepper!"

With Sherlock and the others' arrival, Dumbledore no longer lingered. After eating the bean, he left.

Once Dumbledore had left, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all looked at Sherlock with expressions of surprise mixed with admiration.

"Sherlock, you're incredibly brave!" Ron burst out once he was certain Dumbledore had gone, his face filled with shock and admiration.

"That's Dumbledore! The most powerful person in the wizarding world, and you dared speak to him in that tone?"

Sherlock hadn't originally intended to explain. However, when he noticed that although Harry and Hermione hadn't spoken, their eyes showed agreement with Ron's sentiment, he felt it necessary to clarify. He couldn't let his friends narrow their own paths.

"Truth is often hidden behind layers of fog, and authority appears as an unshakeable colossus standing upon the common path of understanding. When reason sounds its warning bell in your heart, never fall silent from fear of authority. Only thus can you pierce through falsehood and defend truth, rather than miss the opportunity to see through the clouds in blind reverence."

He paused, speaking each word deliberately: "My friends, never lose the courage to oppose authority."

Upon hearing Sherlock's words, Harry and Hermione lowered their heads in thought.

"Well said, but it's meaningless," Ron said, throwing up his hands with a helpless smile. "This kind of thing is something only you could do anyway."

Clearly, he was giving up again.

After saying this, Ron turned his attention to Harry, his eyes sparkling with curiosity: "You know, the whole school is talking about this, so what exactly happened?"

This was what he most wanted to understand now.

Harry looked toward Sherlock and Hermione. He didn't know what had happened after Quirrell broke free from his grip. Dumbledore had just told him to ask Hermione about it.

Thinking of this, he decided to ask first: "What happened to you afterward?"

"I made it back successfully," Ron said proudly, puffing out his chest with a satisfied smile. "I had just regained consciousness when I found Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape rushing over together. You know, Snape's expression was even more terrifying than when he deducts points. He only said, 'Potter went ahead, didn't he?' Then he rushed toward the next room. I wanted to follow, but Professor McGonagall forcibly escorted me out. She went after Professor Snape with those moving chess pieces."

Ron said with some regret. At this point, he changed his tone: "Alright, enough about me. Tell us what happened after you passed the chess puzzle. Everyone's saying different things, and these two won't say anything..."

Ron looked somewhat resentfully at Sherlock and Hermione. It was supposed to be four people's adventure, yet he felt left out.

Harry couldn't help but smile and told them everything exactly as it happened.

Generally, people's imagined heroic adventures are often more thrilling than reality, because such content unconsciously includes the narrator's artistic embellishment. However, this time with the Philosopher's Stone incident was quite the opposite. The real story was more bizarre than imagination.

Not only Ron, who hadn't experienced it all, but even Sherlock and Hermione, who had been there personally, listened patiently. Whenever Harry reached a dangerous part, Ron would tense up, unconsciously gripping the bed railings tightly. Especially when Harry described the face under Quirrell's turban, Ron screamed and jerked backward, nearly falling off his chair.

"And then?" Ron asked urgently, his voice trembling slightly with tension and curiosity. "What happened to Quirrell, what happened to the Philosopher's Stone, and what about You-Know-Who?"

"Then I passed out," Harry said apologetically, his face showing a hint of frustration. "When I woke up again, I was already here."

He looked toward Sherlock and Hermione again.

"Hermione, tell them what happened next," Sherlock suddenly said.

"Me?" Hermione was startled, pointing at herself with surprise. Seeing Sherlock nod, and noticing Harry and Ron's expectant gazes, she sighed.

"Fine, I'll tell it."

After Hermione finished recounting everything from her perspective, Sherlock said approvingly: "Hermione, you do have a talent for observation. Your description was very helpful to me, allowing me to think about this incident from another angle."

Hermione: "...So should I feel proud about this?"

"Of course!" Ron laughed. "That's recognition from the great detective Sherlock! I think you could even work as Sherlock's assistant, helping him solve cases."

Hermione's eyes immediately lit up. But before she could speak, Sherlock said, "We need to leave now."

Before the others could react to what was happening, Madam Pomfrey had already stepped in. Her face wore a stern expression: "You've been here for nearly fifteen minutes now. Out, quickly."

Her voice carried an unquestionable firmness. Obviously, she had found her missing medical bandages—they were now draped over her arm.

After leaving the hospital wing, Ron said while shaking his head, "Such a pity. Madam Pomfrey says Harry still needs to rest in the hospital for a few more days."

"He suffered mental trauma and should rest for several more days."

"But that means he'll miss the final Quidditch match!" Ron gestured excitedly with both hands. "Without Harry as our Seeker, we definitely won't be a match for Ravenclaw!"

Sherlock frowned slightly upon hearing this. It had to be said that Quidditch relied far too heavily on the Seeker. An excellent Seeker could improve a team's strength tremendously.

As Ron said, without Harry as their Seeker, Gryffindor would be no match for Ravenclaw in this year's final House Cup match.

However, Sherlock's frown soon relaxed. Compared to Harry's health, he wouldn't care about one trophy, let alone eight or ten. As for how the final match would be played, that was Captain Wood's headache to deal with.

Hermione wasn't particularly concerned about this either. She looked toward Sherlock, about to say something, when a rough voice called out:

"Hey! You three!"

The three turned to look, and Hagrid's tall figure immediately came into view.

"Hi, Hagrid, what brings you here?" Ron stepped forward with a smile and greeted him.

But unexpectedly, as soon as Hagrid saw the three of them, he immediately burst into tears:

"It's all my fault, all my fault!" He covered his face with his hands, crying. "I told that villain how to get past Fluffy! I told him! He knew everything except that, and I had to tell him!"

Hermione and Ron looked in shock at Hagrid, who was trembling with grief and remorse, large tears soaking into his beard. Only Sherlock remained calm.

He looked Hagrid up and down. "You just went to the hospital wing, didn't see Harry, and were turned away by Madam Pomfrey."

"You're absolutely right!" Hagrid's voice grew louder, tears falling like broken pearls: "You could have all died! All for a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be thrown out and live as a Muggle for the rest of my life!"

For Hagrid, this was the severest punishment he could imagine.

His massive size naturally drew attention, and his current wailing attracted even more notice from nearby people.

"Hey, Hagrid, don't be like this!"

"Look, we're all fine, aren't we?"

"Harry's alright too, he just needs a few more days of rest..."

Ron and Hermione tried to comfort him, but still couldn't stop Hagrid's crying. Not until Sherlock spoke:

"Hagrid, you wouldn't want Harry to be unable to leave the hospital wing, would you?"

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