"Sherlock, I was wrong. I shouldn't have let myself be consumed by fantasy."
Harry was thoroughly ashamed. He couldn't understand what had come over him before.
If Voldemort really got his hands on the Philosopher's Stone and regained his full strength, he would undoubtedly plunge the world into chaos again.
Even if he didn't reclaim dominion over the British wizarding world, the prophecy alone meant he would never let Harry go!
How could he ever have thought it didn't matter?
He must have been out of his mind!
"The line between fantasy and reality isn't always clear. Not everyone can distinguish them—especially at your age."
Harry: (o__o)
Just as he was feeling puzzled, Sherlock suddenly dropped a piece of news that instantly reignited his spirits.
"There are many ways to remember your family. Losing yourself in illusions is the most foolish one.
This summer break, we're going to visit the place where your parents once lived."
The moment he heard that, Harry lit up with excitement.
"But before that, you'll need to train seriously with me in stealth and fencing."
"Absolutely!"
Harry agreed enthusiastically.
As long as I'm with Sherlock, I'm not afraid of anything!
Thanks to the combined efforts of Sherlock and Dumbledore, Harry was finally convinced to stop obsessing over the Mirror of Erised and quickly fell into a peaceful sleep.
Sherlock, however, remained deep in thought.
It was obvious now—Dumbledore had intentionally placed the Mirror of Erised in that abandoned classroom to lure both him and Harry there.
Not out of malice, of course. He simply wanted to observe their character.
It was clear: Dumbledore genuinely wanted to raise a savior with his own hands.
As for Sherlock himself…
It was just as clear—though the old man meant no harm, he had an uncontrollable habit of wanting to orchestrate everything.
That much had already been evident when he originally intended for Harry to face Voldemort alone.
If it had been him as a child, Sherlock suspected the mirror would've shown him sailing across the sea.
But now…
Endless mysteries, limitless deductions—he found all of it irresistibly fascinating.
Clearly, he was no ordinary person.
As for whether Dumbledore could understand the image he saw in the mirror—well, that was his problem.
---
After the holidays, Harry had completely let go of the mirror and began Sherlock's special training in earnest.
While Sherlock was eager to teach him boxing and fencing, Harry's current physical condition wasn't up to it—he needed to build a solid foundation first.
So Sherlock started by increasing the intensity of Harry's morning workouts.
They got up early to walk and jog briskly around the Black Lake.
With its fresh air and beautiful scenery, the area helped develop both coordination and endurance.
After that, they'd stretch on the flat grass by the lakeside to improve flexibility—ideal for someone like Harry, who was malnourished and out of shape.
Then, after classes, once their roommates were asleep, Sherlock would sneak Harry out of the common room for nighttime exploration, evading Filch, Mrs. Norris, and Peeves as they wandered Hogwarts.
Though the night adventures weren't long—so as not to cut too deeply into Harry's sleep—they were always thrilling.
Thanks to the Invisibility Cloak and Sherlock's guidance, Harry was improving rapidly and growing more confident by the day.
And his respect for Sherlock only deepened.
Because, unlike him, Sherlock did all this without the Invisibility Cloak.
Even when Mrs. Norris nearly spotted him several times, Sherlock remained as calm and composed as ever—unshakeable.
Maybe this is what talent looks like, Harry thought.
In this way, they explored nearly the entire castle—excluding the Forbidden Forest and the corridor Dumbledore had specifically warned them about.
Of course, "entire" was only in the broad sense.
Hogwarts held far too many secrets—unknown passages and hidden chambers only someone like Filch or the Weasley twins might know of.
Still, after training with Sherlock for a while, Harry underwent a visible transformation.
Once a scrawny boy who looked younger than his peers, he now had a well-proportioned frame and carried himself with confidence.
He had become faster, taller, and stronger.
---
During this period, the professors began returning Christmas presents of their own.
One especially noteworthy gift came from Professor Snape—a bottle of expensive and practical high-grade potion.
It once again shifted Harry's perception of him.
That said…
Snape still deducted points from Harry in Potions class as readily as ever.
He didn't go any easier just because Harry gave him a Christmas gift.
Not that it surprised anyone—by now, even the other Gryffindors were used to it.
Everyone knew that once Potions class started, Gryffindor might as well be renamed "Griffin-Less."
Time passed quickly and quietly.
Just as Sherlock was preparing to push Harry's training to the next level, Quidditch practice resumed—and the plan had to be delayed.
The main reason was Gryffindor team captain Oliver Wood.
He was strict to the point of madness, demanding daily practices even in heavy post-snow rain.
The Weasley twins grumbled constantly that Wood was turning into a training-obsessed tyrant.
Harry, however, fully supported him.
For one, if they beat Hufflepuff in the next match, they could finally overtake Slytherin in the House Cup standings.
It would mark Gryffindor's first victory in seven years.
But more than that, after getting used to Sherlock's training, Harry realized Quidditch practice wasn't so bad anymore.
Wood was thrilled with Harry's performance.
The Weasley twins… not so much.
Watching them perform mock dive-bombs and pretend to fall off their brooms, Wood snapped in frustration:
"If you two keep fooling around, we're definitely going to lose!
Snape is refereeing this game—he'll be out for our heads!"
That last line wiped the smirks off their faces—they nearly fell off their brooms for real.
The news that Snape would be refereeing their next match stirred heated debate among the Gryffindor team.
As soon as practice ended, everyone started discussing it fervently.
Harry, meanwhile, took off running.
He couldn't wait to share the news with his friends.
---
Back in the Gryffindor common room, he found Ron and Hermione exactly as he expected—playing wizard chess.
Only during these games did Hermione ever let Ron win.
And both enjoyed it in their own ways.
One just wanted to win.
The other wanted to watch the other lose.
Harry leaned over and whispered the news about Snape.
"Don't play," Hermione said instantly. "Pretend you've broken your leg."
Ron added, "No—actually break your leg."
"I can't do that," Harry said, shaking his head. "There's no backup Seeker. If I drop out, Gryffindor can't compete."
"And besides… Sherlock told me Snape isn't actually a bad person. He even protected me during the last game. He gave me a gift, too…
…wait, where is Sherlock?"
Only then did he realize Sherlock wasn't in the common room.
Since Quidditch practice resumed, Sherlock had temporarily suspended their nightly Hogwarts explorations.
With Harry now training hard, staying up too late would've exhausted him completely.
They still kept up with morning cardio—just at slightly reduced intensity.
While Harry trained at the Quidditch pitch, Sherlock would usually stay behind and work on homework in the common room.
Hermione had voiced her disapproval more than once.
Because once Sherlock finished his homework, Ron would put it out in the common room for others to copy.
Sherlock never commented.
Hermione, however, thought he was too indulgent.
If not for the Troll incident earlier in the year, she might have voiced her complaints publicly.
Even so, some Gryffindors still grumbled behind her back:
"Mind your own business."
"It's not cheating—it's collaborative learning."
That said, sometimes Sherlock's work couldn't be copied—because for subjects he wasn't interested in, he wouldn't bother doing the homework at all, or he'd just write down a single answer.
In those cases, Harry and Ron had no choice but to rely on Hermione.
Unlike Sherlock, Hermione refused to let others copy her work.
But she would still help them review it—and with her help, they usually got the right answers.
"Watson brought a letter," Ron said when Harry asked where Sherlock had gone. "Hagrid asked him to come to his hut to discuss something."
"We were waiting for you to decide whether we should go too," Hermione added.
Harry blinked.
Why would Hagrid ask for Sherlock?
Did some magical creature go missing again and he needed Sherlock's help to find it?
He was still hesitating when—
Neville Longbottom tumbled into the common room.
Even flat on his face, his legs were stuck rigidly together.
Harry jumped to his feet and rushed over.
"That's the Leg-Locker Curse!" Hermione said in a low voice.
She quickly stepped forward and removed the spell after Harry helped Neville up.
Ron, Dean, Seamus, and other boys who were close to Neville swarmed around him with concern:
"What the bloody hell happened to you?!"
---
Meanwhile, Sherlock knew nothing about the chaos in Gryffindor Tower.
He was quietly sipping the strong tea Hagrid had brewed just for him.
In the cold of winter, it worked better than a Warming Charm—banishing chill, easing fatigue, and boosting alertness.
The downside? It made you run to the loo constantly.
"Thanks, Hagrid."
Looking at the giant man fidgeting across from him, unsure how to start, Sherlock sighed.
"I'll be blunt—there are three possible solutions to your current predicament…"
---
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