Dumbledore looked at Sherlock in silence.
At this moment, he clearly felt that this young wizard named Sherlock Holmes had become much more perceptive than last year, and far more aggressive as well.
However, he quickly realized that this was actually a normal phenomenon.
As young wizards grew older, their magical power continued to grow as well.
Under such circumstances, if they couldn't receive proper guidance, wizards would become Obscurials, eventually producing the dark magic known as an Obscurus.
That was a type of dark magic that was powerful but extremely unstable and difficult to control.
It moved at extreme speeds, would separate from its host (the Obscurial) and then attack others, or even turn against and control its host.
Since Sherlock had already come to Hogwarts to study and received proper guidance, he naturally wouldn't become an Obscurus.
But whether it was his magical abilities or the observational and deductive skills he had honed in the Muggle world, both continued to increase day by day.
Thinking of this, Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sherlock, I cannot tell you about this matter right now."
"Again?" Sherlock wasn't surprised by Dumbledore's explanation.
In fact, before coming to find Dumbledore today, he had already anticipated this result. After all, he had done the same thing once last year.
"You won't tell me the complete prophecy, then what about news of Harry's parents' best friend? What about information regarding the Chamber?"
Dumbledore looked somewhat embarrassed, but still shook his head.
"I need an explanation." Sherlock looked at Dumbledore. "An explanation for why you're unwilling to tell me the truth."
"Sherlock, you are excellent, truly exceptional. Not just you, but also your friends—Harry, Ron, Hermione. When I was your age, I was nowhere near as capable as you all have shown yourselves to be."
Dumbledore was, after all, old and experienced. After his initial surprise, he quickly regained his composure. He looked into Sherlock's gray eyes and said slowly.
"However, compared to them, you are the most outstanding one. Harry is decisive, but careless; Ron is strategic, but only halfway competent; Hermione is knowledgeable, but not quick enough in her thinking;
And you..."
"I'm like an integrated circuit, perfectly able to bring out the abilities of all three of them, is that it?"
Sherlock said with a cold smile.
Though Dumbledore didn't know what an integrated circuit was, he understood Sherlock's meaning from the context.
He nodded. "Please trust me, Sherlock. Give me some more time, and give your friends some time as well."
Sherlock didn't respond immediately.
Dumbledore's assessment of his three companions was something he had long understood in his heart.
Harry was decisive, Ron was strategic, Hermione was eloquent.
If he weren't here, these three could indeed form a strong triangle.
But for the three of them to grow into their complete forms would certainly require a long period of adjustment.
It would probably take until around graduation.
But now with him here, things were different.
Seeing that this old man was stubborn and refused to tell the truth, Sherlock said with a cold smile.
"In that case, you'd better pray."
"Pray?"
"Pray that the Chamber hasn't been opened, pray that Mrs. Norris's incident was done by someone who knew the Chamber legend and deliberately created panic."
"You're right, I should indeed pray—speaking of which, regarding Mrs. Norris's incident, do you have any leads?"
"My lead is that the Chamber has been opened, the monster inside has been released, but you refuse to even admit this point until now!
'Dumbledore, what exactly are you worried about?!"'
Sherlock was genuinely angry.
Last year, he had joked with Harry that the Ministry of Magic couldn't possibly let first-year students investigate the Gringotts vault break-in case.
He hadn't expected that this year he would be frustrated by Dumbledore not letting him, a second-year student, get involved in the case.
Looking at it now, what he said last year had truly become a boomerang.
Seeing this, Dumbledore couldn't help but smile wryly. He was upset.
Because Sherlock was so much more mature than his peers, he often unconsciously treated him as an adult.
But after all, the other person was still a child.
"Sherlock, won't you really have a Fizzing Whizzbee?"
"No need."
Sherlock's self-control was beyond question, and he quickly shook off his negative emotions.
"Since you won't say anything, I'll take my leave first. There's no point in staying here any longer."
"I'll go out with you."
Dumbledore didn't try to stop him, but also stood up with Sherlock. "I was just going to get some hot chocolate."
Sherlock glanced at Dumbledore and said no more.
The two left the tower where the headmaster's office was located one after the other, walking through the long corridor.
"Are you planning to return directly to your dormitory, or do you have other activities?"
Hearing Dumbledore's seemingly pointed question, Sherlock gave a standard answer.
"I stayed at your place shorter than I expected. When I return to the dormitory, Harry might not even be back yet."
"Harry isn't back? Where did he go?"
"Professor Lockhart conscripted him to help reply to his fan mail."
"Gilderoy?"
Hearing Sherlock's words, a thoughtful look appeared in Dumbledore's eyes.
"You're also hiding things about Professor Lockhart from others?"
Seeing his expression, Sherlock immediately understood. "You know about his past, don't you?"
"Sherlock, please spare this old man... If this continues, I'll really start to wonder if you know Legilimency."
Dumbledore said with a bitter smile. He hadn't expected that an unconscious expression would let Sherlock see through him again.
"You're overthinking it."
Sherlock said with a straight face. "From the moment you agreed to let Gilderoy Lockhart serve as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, I began analyzing this person.
Later I found Professor Flitwick... Your performance just now only confirmed what I already suspected."
Dumbledore was somewhat speechless.
'This was exactly why it was even more impressive!'
The two chatted occasionally like this, when suddenly Dumbledore stopped abruptly.
Sherlock reacted sharply, stopping almost simultaneously.
Only then did Dumbledore say "Stay where you are, don't move."
When he discovered that Sherlock had already taken a defensive stance, he couldn't help but show an admiring look.
He immediately moved Sherlock behind him, drew his wand, and stepped forward.
Sherlock noticed that although this step seemed ordinary, Dumbledore's footstep was light, raising no dust, and the distance was much farther than a normal step.
Their current position was at the end of the east corridor of the castle, not far from a gargoyle statue.
In almost the blink of an eye, Dumbledore appeared on the other side of the corridor's corner.
Seeing Dumbledore's actions, Sherlock had a vague suspicion in his mind.
If there were no accidents, it seemed an accident had occurred.
His suspicion was quickly confirmed.
"Sherlock, please come here."
Dumbledore's somewhat heavy voice came, and Sherlock immediately walked forward quickly.
The dim, flickering wall lamps cast Sherlock's moving shadow long and short on the walls, appearing particularly eerie.
The originally unremarkable gargoyle statue now looked particularly sinister with its bared fangs and claws, and even the air began to fill with a damp, decaying smell that made one's spine tingle.
Sherlock quickly walked around a somewhat worn tapestry, and an extremely discordant scene burst into view.
A thin, small boy lay face-up on the ground, his limbs unnaturally extended, his whole-body rigid as cold marble sculpture.
His eyes were wide open, filled with terror and despair, as if he had encountered something extremely frightening before his petrification.
His entire skin showed an unnatural grayish-white color, his face completely bloodless.
"Colin Creevey."
After speaking the boy's name, Sherlock immediately began scanning the crime scene without another word.
He keenly noticed that everything here was completely fresh—aside from him and Dumbledore, no one else had been here.
This meant he would have a nearly perfect, undisturbed crime scene to seek the truth.
"Mr. Dumbledore, please stay where you are and don't move. I should be finished here soon."
Dumbledore was startled—hadn't he just said the same thing to Sherlock?
But he followed the instruction and stayed in place, also examining the surroundings like Sherlock.
After saying this, Sherlock no longer paid attention to Dumbledore. He took out his magical magnifying glass and carefully observed Colin Creevey and everything around him.
The thin boy's pupils had dilated almost to fill his irises, his terrified expression frozen on his young face, as if all life had been instantly drained from him.
His hands still clutched his camera to his chest in a death grip, his knuckles white from excessive force.
His red and gold Gryffindor scarf hung loosely around his neck.
"He's still alive, exactly the same symptoms as Mrs. Norris."
Sherlock murmured.
He believed Dumbledore had confirmed this point much earlier than he had.
After examining Colin, he looked around.
Large water stains remained on the stone floor of the corridor, some puddles reflecting the faint light of the ceiling torches, with water traces winding and extending to the shadows behind abandoned armor.
Several spiders in the corner were fleeing toward the castle's exterior at an abnormal speed, their feet dragging thin mud traces on the ground, as if sensing a deadly threat approaching.
"I've finished my examination."
Seeing Sherlock stand up, Dumbledore asked directly. "Any clues?"
"As far as I know, Colin has been waiting outside Lockhart's office for Harry. Given his persistence, he wouldn't return to his dormitory without seeing Harry.
The dried mud stains and food remnants on his scarf indicate he went to the Quidditch pitch and the dining area.
The reason he appeared here should be that he wanted to use the nearby lavatory—that's the men's washroom closest to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office.
The time from his normal state to this condition was no more than half an hour, possibly shorter, which can be determined from the degree of water evaporation at the scene and the camera in his hands.
To petrify Colin and leave calmly in such a short time suggests the perpetrator either has superior abilities or possesses special means to conceal themselves. I personally lean toward the latter.
Also..."
Sherlock bent down and removed the camera from Colin's rigid fingers.
Dumbledore was no longer surprised that Sherlock could deduce all this in such a short time.
However, seeing his action, he couldn't help asking. "You think this child might have photographed the attacker?"
Sherlock didn't answer, but directly pried open the back cover of the camera.
Hot air hissed out of the camera, and the pungent smell of burning plastic hit their nostrils.
The metal components inside the camera were twisted and deformed from high heat, and the film had melted into a gummy substance stuck to the internal gears.
Sherlock suddenly looked up, excitement and anger flashing in his gray eyes.
"Headmaster, I think you should understand what this means?"
"This means..."
Dumbledore sighed deeply. "You're right, Sherlock. The Chamber has indeed been opened again."
"So, you still won't tell me about the Chamber?"
Sherlock looked at him intently.
"Let's first take this child to the hospital wing."
Still not directly answering Sherlock's question, but Sherlock understood his answer from Dumbledore's words.
The two lifted Colin's head and feet respectively and walked toward the hospital wing.
On the way, they encountered Professor McGonagall.
After understanding what had happened, she decisively joined their group.
"Minerva, go call Poppy."
After placing the rigid Colin on a bed with Sherlock, Dumbledore quietly said to Professor McGonagall.
She hurried away and soon returned.
With her was Madam Pomfrey, wearing a jacket over her nightgown.
Seeing Colin in this state, Madam Pomfrey gasped.
"He's been petrified again?"
"Yes," Professor McGonagall explained. "The thought makes me shudder... If Albus hadn't happened to come downstairs for hot chocolate, who knows what would have happened..."
"Actually, whether I came or not, the attack had already occurred."
Dumbledore sighed deeply, then looked at Sherlock with hesitation in his eyes.
"Sherlock, it's already too late today, and now with this incident..."
"It's fine. You can tell me after you're done with your business."
Before leaving, Sherlock paused slightly and left Dumbledore with words only he could understand.
"History always repeats itself, but this time, the script will be rewritten by us—if you're willing."
"Albus, what is this really about..."
Professor McGonagall already found it strange that Dumbledore and Sherlock were together so late at night.
Now seeing this unique way they interacted, she found it even more incredible.
"Ladies, what I must tell you is that the Chamber has indeed been opened once again."
"What did you say?"
Madam Pomfrey covered her mouth with her hand, and Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore in shock.
After a while, she finally asked.
"But Albus, you should know... who is it?"
"The question now isn't who, but how..."
Dumbledore's gaze was profound, and his sentence stopped abruptly. Ignoring Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey's confused expressions, he said slowly.
"I think Mr. Sherlock might actually be able to clear someone's name this time."
"Albus, you mean..."
"Justice may be delayed, but it will never be denied."
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