This is a translation of the original work.On Patreon, you can read up to 5 chapters per day until we catch up with the number of chapters released by the original author.
Support us there and follow Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts ahead of time!
"Actually, it's nothing remarkable."
Seeing Harry and Ron's astonished expressions and genuine admiration, Sherlock felt pleased, even though he said this.
Even if he was much more mature than his peers, he was still, after all, an eleven-year-old boy.
Most importantly, he could tell that Harry and Ron's praise was sincere.
Unlike those fellows he had encountered before.
After recovering from their shock, Ron asked Harry to take him along to see Hagrid.
Harry didn't refuse and then eagerly invited Sherlock to join them.
Sherlock naturally agreed.
This was precisely his initial intention in approaching Harry – using the savior of the wizarding world as a pivot point to interact with various people and gain a higher initial level of goodwill.
This way, he could gather a lot of information without expending too much effort.
However, during his interactions with Harry, he found the young boy quite to his liking and gradually began to consider him a friend.
Precisely because they were friends, it was even more important not to be ambiguous when it was time to utilize the connection.
Harry, delighted by Sherlock's agreement, was in such a good mood that he even forgot his worries about Potions class and Snape.
But he quickly remembered.
Because the Potions classroom was located in the dungeons, the dim environment inevitably reminded one of the Leaky Cauldron.
However, the reality was that it was even colder here than the pub.
Lining the walls were preserved animal specimens in bizarre and grotesque poses, unsettling to even glance at.
But compared to the professor of this course, these specimens could almost be described as pleasant-looking.
The Potions Master was Professor Severus Snape, also the last of the four House Heads.
The moment he opened his mouth, a wave of sarcasm washed over them:
"Ah, yes," he sneered. "Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity."
The Slytherin students immediately snickered.
Harry and Ron flushed red.
Sherlock, however, hearing this, his eyes lit up.
He leaned forward slightly, excitement flickering in his gaze.
This professor... has spirit!
After taking roll, Snape, much like Professor McGonagall, proceeded to intimidate the students:
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making.
As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.
I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...
I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
After this speech, the classroom fell utterly silent.
Sherlock nodded in deep agreement.
He thought Snape was absolutely right.
He often had similar feelings – some people could truly lower the IQ of an entire street, and even their mere presence in his line of sight was jarring to his eyes.
More interestingly, he had mentioned science.
This was the first professor in the magical school to mention it.
In Sherlock's view, this professor was actually more suited for Defence Against the Dark Arts.
If he could swap places with Quirrell, it would be a perfect kill.
Unfortunately, that wasn't possible.
However...
Sherlock glanced at Harry. Was Snape targeting the savior?
Considering that all the other teachers, including the somewhat odd Professor Quirrell and the stern Professor McGonagall, seemed fond of Harry, the sudden appearance of such an anomaly was indeed quite interesting.
This scenario was so delightful that Sherlock simply decided to play the role of an onlooker, watching Harry being picked on by Snape.
"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
As soon as Snape posed the question, Hermione, beside them, shot her hand high into the air.
Clearly, she was eager to prove she wasn't the kind of dunderhead Snape had mentioned.
As for Harry... Sherlock could tell from his bewildered expression that the poor boy, like Ron beside him, hadn't even properly heard the question.
Sure enough, Harry answered truthfully, "I don't know, sir."
"Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."
Snape made no effort to hide his disdain. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Harry remained silent.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Harry still didn't know.
"It seems fame isn't everything, after all."
Snape began to mock again. "Is it, Mr. Potter?"
Harry felt flushed with shame and anger under Snape's hawk-like gaze and the undisguised sneers from the Slytherins. He finally couldn't resist retorting:
"I don't know, sir, but I think Hermione does. Why don't you try her?"
This time, someone couldn't help but chuckle.
But as Snape's gaze swept across the room, the classroom instantly fell silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. He naturally knew the answers to these questions.
Phyllida Spore's One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi recorded them, and Arsenius Jigger's Magical Drafts and Potions also mentioned them.
Both were textbooks on the required reading list.
But for most people, even if they flipped through the books before school started, they wouldn't memorize this content.
Of course, if Sherlock hadn't deemed this knowledge useful, he wouldn't have stored it in his brain either.
Too much space.
Hermione, beside him, performed with her usual consistency – after Harry's recommendation, she was already standing with her hand raised.
So why was Snape targeting Harry?
Sherlock keenly sensed that although Snape's malice was directed at Harry, its source wasn't Harry himself.
Considering Snape's age and position, an idea began to form in his mind.
"Heh."
Sherlock chuckled aloud.
Interesting, truly interesting.
Who knew that besides magic, the teachers at Hogwarts themselves were quite fascinating.
However, the classroom was currently in a state of silence due to Snape's earlier intimidation, making his soft chuckle particularly conspicuous.
"Sit down!"
Snape first turned and snapped at Hermione, then walked over to Sherlock, staring coldly at him:
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes – the Transfiguration genius. Several professors have praised you highly. It seems you find this matter amusing, do you?"
"Not at all, sir. It's just... I thought of something happy."
Sherlock stood up and replied politely.
(End of Chapter)