Fifty-plus wands hovered behind the Goblin.
The moment Sherlock cast the spell, the tip of every wand lit up with a faint red glow!
The Goblin dragging Jonathan and Fleur was suddenly alerted!
He spun around abruptly, seeing the dense cluster of wands behind him; his eyes widened, and he instinctively rolled to the left to dodge!
But the next second, red light flashed!
Because the characteristics of the wands differed, and Sherlock's adaptability with them also varied, about ten wands misfired, twelve wands missed their target, and over thirty hit; the timing of the spells striking the Goblin also varied.
Eight spells hit the Goblin first. That Goblin, who had already been hit by Harry's Stupefy and was extremely weak, was not immediately petrified!
He still wanted to point his finger at Sherlock, though his movements became abnormally sluggish.
By the time the second batch of nine spells hit him again, his entire body finally came to a complete standstill, and he eventually fell helplessly to the ground.
The final wave of seventeen spells arrived immediately afterwards, continuously reinforcing the effect of the Petrificus Totalus.
Sherlock saw the practical effect of the mass spellcasting, couldn't help but smack his lips, shook his head, and muttered to himself.
"The effect of a single one is still too low; it must hit at least ten times to be effective, and it's best if all the wands are uniform, so there's no chance of misfiring."
Controlling these wands was naturally the magic Sherlock learned after using Tom Riddle's remnant soul as a thread to stitch his own soul together.
Because of the unique characteristics of this magic, Sherlock named it [Control Magic].
At first, he only used it in daily life and found it very convenient; it could completely free his hands, and he didn't even need to use a wand, allowing magic to replace most work.
Later, he had a sudden inspiration: since Control Magic could replace his hands, could he use it to control wands to achieve non-contact, remote spellcasting?
In the first experiment, Sherlock succeeded, verifying that his guess was correct.
But the magic used in this way had its effect greatly weakened; Stupefy couldn't knock people out, Petrificus Totalus couldn't hold people, and Expelliarmus would at most make the opponent's wand struggle slightly.
So later, he didn't conduct any deep research on it.
Unexpectedly, it came in handy today, and it also provided a new idea for solving the issue of weakened spell power.
If one wand's spell effect isn't enough, then use multiple!
Control Magic gave him the ability to control everything as he pleased, which was far more versatile than using two hands.
After all, one hand cannot use two wands separately, but Control Magic could even use two hundred.
If quality isn't enough, make up for it with quantity.
Is the aim of the spell not good enough?
Then with two hundred wands aimed at you and firing a rain of spells, how can you dodge?
Of course, how to implement this specifically would have to be researched later; for now, Sherlock still had to deal with the matter at hand.
He commanded several wands to float to his side and used Diffindo on the rope that bound him.
The rope was instantly torn to pieces, and Sherlock stood up and walked to the petrified Goblin.
"You have committed a heinous crime. As a Goblin, you stole a Wizard's wand. It is quite possible that you will be sentenced to receive a Dementor's Kiss."
Sherlock used the Levitation Charm again to lift Jonathan, the Goblin, and Fleur.
Stupefy was the only conventional spell that didn't have a counter-curse; one could only wait for the victim to wake up on their own, so he had to take Fleur away like this.
Although the Goblin was petrified, it could hear what Sherlock said.
A look of fear clearly flashed in its eyes, yet it still glared at him with a fierce expression.
Sherlock didn't care about its gaze; instead, he waved his hand, put all fifty-plus wands back into the wooden box, and walked towards the edge of the woods with the three floating figures.
At this time, quite a few young Wizards had already found the Philosopher's Stone fragments, and disputes had broken out.
But since Nicolas Flamel was fake, the Philosopher's Stone fragments hidden in this forest were naturally fake as well.
Sherlock found a few Wizards who were still rational, told them the truth, and asked the local French Wizards to go to the Ministry of Magic and call the Aurors.
Soon, all the young Wizards in the forest knew they had been deceived.
They gathered again on the lawn in the backyard of the Flamel house, looking at the tied-up Goblin and Jonathan with disbelief.
No one could have imagined that someone would actually dare to impersonate Nicolas Flamel to commit fraud!
Several Wizards who had clashed in the forest were even more red-faced.
They had actually fought tooth and nail over fake Philosopher's Stone fragments; if this got out, it would surely become a laughingstock.
The Aurors arrived quickly, and Fleur's father also rushed over in person.
Sherlock told him what had happened, including Jonathan's plan to capture and sell Fleur, which left him shaken. He thanked Sherlock repeatedly, then hurriedly took the unconscious Fleur home.
The Aurors' handling of the Goblin and Jonathan was very efficient, especially since the real Nicolas Flamel was nowhere to be found.
In less than ten minutes, they applied for authorisation to use Veritaserum and poured it directly into the Goblin after lifting his petrification.
From him, they learned that they had never seen Nicolas Flamel at all.
Instead, more than a week before these people arrived, they saw the note on the Flamel house's door, learning that Nicolas Flamel had matters to attend to and wouldn't return until 28 July.
Thus, a Wizard with Metamorphmagus abilities and a Goblin—this pair of audacious swindlers—conspired to carry out this scam.
Jonathan had a near-crazed love and obsession with celebrity wands.
And those who could get a recommendation letter to visit Nicolas Flamel were all considered the best among young Wizards. According to local French customs, the cores of their wands all originated from their ancestors, using various magical materials with great personal significance.
He set his sights on this group's wands, changed the date on the note, and impersonated Nicolas Flamel to swindle them out of their wands.
The Goblin and Jonathan were old partners; one only wanted wands, the other only wanted money.
Targeting Fleur beforehand was also because they valued the uniqueness of her wand and her status as a half-Veela.
They had set a trap when they were in the wizarding town of Aspet; at that time, Fleur should already have fallen into the net they cast.
Unexpectedly, Sherlock and Harry happened to meet her on the way and brought her back to Paris, leaving Jonathan empty-handed and unable to find the wandering Fleur.
After arriving in Paris, they still refused to give up, setting another trap using the identity of a fellow schoolmate, but it was ultimately uncovered by Sherlock.
The French Ministry of Magic attached great importance to this matter. The person who came to handle the case was a deputy director of the Auror Office.
Upon meeting Sherlock, he shook his hand with immense relief and thanked him incessantly.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Cavendish. If you hadn't discovered the problem, these two swindlers would have slipped out of France and headed to the United States after succeeding, and we would never have been able to catch them. We have also contacted Mr. Flamel, and he is on his way back now."
In the French Ministry of Magic, Sherlock and Harry had now become their guests of honour.
After taking their statements and understanding the whole process, they were settled into a comfortable reception room.
The deputy director of the Auror Office accompanied them personally and even planned to award them a French Friendly Wizard Award.
The deputy director expressed his thanks repeatedly in French-accented English and left the reception room, stating that the real Nicolas Flamel would return shortly to thank them in person.
Only then did Sherlock have time to ask about Harry's situation, and Harry told him about the Goblin turning into Fleur and trying to ambush him.
"Jonathan clearly had his eye on your wand. The famous Harry Potter's wand—if he managed to get it, he'd probably be hugging your wand while sleeping every night."
Sherlock drank the black tea prepared for them by the Ministry of Magic and joked with Harry in a relaxed mood.
After the excitement, Harry was still shaken.
"It's a good thing you warned me, Professor, or I think he really would have snatched my wand."
"It's also fortunate that you're much sharper than before and reacted in time. I didn't expect the other party wouldn't impersonate me, but would instead turn into Fleur."
While they were chatting, the door to the reception room was suddenly pushed open from the outside.
An old man with a full head of silver hair, a face full of wrinkles, and a familiar appearance walked in with a gentle smile on his face.
Nicolas Flamel.
The one who could come to the Ministry of Magic certainly couldn't be a fake.
Sherlock grabbed Harry and stood up from the sofa to show his respect for this old man, who was even more senior than Dumbledore.
"Mr. Flamel."
Nicolas Flamel waved his hand casually.
"Sit down, there's no need to be so formal in front of me. Dumbledore and I are old friends; he specifically mentioned you in a letter to me, especially since you helped me with such a big favour."
He sat down on the sofa, and Sherlock and Harry sat back down as well.
"Because my wife had some unexpected health issues, I have been with her at a magical hospital in Germany all these days and only found out today that such a thing had happened. Thank you; otherwise, near the end of my life, I would have lost my reputation."
Nicolas Flamel thanked Sherlock earnestly.
Sherlock said modestly,
"You are too polite, Mr. Flamel. We just happened to discover the truth of the matter. Besides, even without us, it would have been those two swindlers who stole the wands; it has nothing to do with you."
Nicolas Flamel shook his head with a smile.
Having lived for more than six hundred years, how could he not see through such things?
Even if it was a fake impersonating him, he knew what public opinion would say once the news spread.