HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES Chapter 100: 00100 Their Visit

"Mr. Potter?"

When Cho Chang turned to greet Harry, he suddenly stood up, knocking over his pumpkin juice.

Deep orange liquid imdiately spread along the tablecloth.

"Sorry, sorry!"

Harry panicked and grabbed his napkin, frantically wiping.

Sherlock watched him calmly: "Do I need to remind you, Harry—you're wiping my sleeve."

Hermione's sigh was mixed with Ron's laughter.

Seeing this scene, Cho Chang burst into laughter.

Then she drew her wand and tapped the table lightly: "Scourgify."

The tablecloth and Sherlock's sleeve imdiately beca clean.

Seeing this, Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly.

Cho Chang's spellwork was quite skillful, not inferior to her own.

Harry didn't notice the magic; it took him so effort to look away from the cloud patterns on Cho Chang's sleeve cuffs.

After this small incident, the initial awkwardness between them disappeared considerably.

Penelope and Cho Chang also sat down at the table.

"So, what's Edgecombe's punishnt?"

Sherlock asked Cho Chang, who was sitting beside Harry.

The smile that had appeared due to Harry's earlier behavior imdiately vanished, and she said in a low voice:

"Return the stolen items, pay a fine.

Ravenclaw loses fifty points, only stating that the point deduction is for Marietta, without revealing specific details.

Detention during holidays and free ti, performing manual works without magic.

Restricted movent, forbidden from entering certain public areas for a period."

"My advice is—abandon pointless rcy."

Looking at the dejected Cho Chang, Sherlock said disdainfully, "Her behavior is entirely self-inflicted and doesn't deserve pity.

Your relationship with her won't return to what it was, but that Miss Kirke is a friend worth making."

Cho Chang nodded. Through this incident, she had indeed seen many things clearly.

After chatting for a while, they beca increasingly familiar with each other.

When it seed about ti, Penelope coughed: "Mr. Hols, you won't spread this story, will you?"

"I'm not interested in it."

"Neither am I."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything."

" neither!"

Getting affirmative answers, Penelope and Cho Chang stood up, with the latter even bowing to the four of them.

After they left, Ron couldn't help but sigh: "What a kind-hearted and beautiful girl. Even in this situation, she still thinks of her companion—don't you think so, Harry?"

Seeing Ron's knowing look, Harry felt sowhat embarrassed.

He had to admit that he had indeed been sowhat shallow earlier.

Fortunately, Ron didn't dwell on this matter. His attention was quickly attracted by the feast in front of them—today was Easter, and the Great Hall's dinner was much more sumptuous than usual.

It didn't take long before he entered dual-wielding-chicken-legs combat mode.

Harry, who had been nearly exhausted on the Quidditch pitch, was also feeling hungry. Seeing his best friend eating so enthusiastically, he quickly joined in.

Sherlock and Hermione had also expended considerable energy investigating the case, so the four chatted while eating, the atmosphere becoming increasingly cheerful.

The first day of Easter holidays ended so ordinarily.

For Sherlock, after completing Penelope and Cho Chang's commission, the remaining holiday life seed sowhat boring.

Of course, expecting cases every day was impossible.

Otherwise, Hogwarts might as well be renad Azkaban.

The howork assigned by professors consud quite a bit of his ti.

Especially Professor McGonagall.

She gave special attention to Sherlock, this Transfiguration prodigy—for the sa essay assignnt, his required length was different from others.

If others needed five inches, he needed seven.

This ant Sherlock had to spend more ti completing assignnts.

The night tours of Hogwarts project with Harry also had to be suspended again.

The main reason was Wood's training of Harry.

This was sothing even the Weasley twins couldn't understand.

They spent three days and nights trying to figure out how Wood managed to find so much ti for Quidditch training while having to cope with O.W.L. exams.

Whenever he ca to the Quidditch pitch, his energy was always so abundant.

"Before we start training, I want each of you to loudly state your na and position on the field!

I want to ensure everyone can invest in each day's training with full spirit. Begin!"

"Chaser, Angelina Johnson!"

"Good, next!"

"Beater, George Weasley!"

"No energy, can't hear you! Say it again!"

"Beater, George Weasley!"

"Good, very spirited, next!"

"Beater, Fred Weasley!"

"Can't hear clearly. With such a quiet voice, you still want to win the championship? Again!"

The daily pep rally before formal training was already frustrating enough, but even more frustrating was that weather factors weren't in Wood's consideration at all.

Even in pouring rain, he remained fearless.

This training thod naturally left Gryffindor team mbers returning from the Quidditch pitch exhausted every day.

Until one morning, when the hospital wing received over a dozen bladders full of Pepper-Up Potion, Wood's high-intensity training was finally stopped by Madam Pomfrey's forceful intervention.

While breathing sighs of relief, the Gryffindor team mbers regarded Madam Pomfrey as their savior.

Although Ron didn't have Harry's high-intensity training, just completing the howork assigned by professors was enough to keep him busy—even with the help of two academic stars, Sherlock and Hermione.

The final result was that by the end of the holidays, both Harry and Ron felt this Easter had been more tiring than regular school days.

This was the first ti they hoped holidays would end quickly.

Sherlock and Hermione naturally fared much better.

With Harry joining them after training ended, the Lion King, Chosen One, and Know-It-All trio resud haunting the library.

As for Ron—

Reading was impossible, howork he couldn't do, only copying could maintain his lifestyle.

Sherlock naturally didn't care about Ron's choice.

Harry and Hermione were disappointed in him.

However, although Ron didn't co to the library, under Sherlock's guidance he could always learn those spells, which was also a good thing.

The first Defense Against the Dark Arts class after Easter holidays saw the long-absent Professor Quirrell return.

His condition wasn't very good. Compared to before his Easter leave, his body was more hunched and his face paler.

"Hey, Sherlock, you really are prophetic!"

Seamus couldn't help but give Sherlock a thumbs up secretly.

Before Easter, he had asked Sherlock to deduce when Quirrell would return, and Sherlock had been right.

Sherlock sat in the second-to-last row by the window in the classroom, with Harry beside him, Ron and Neville in front, and Seamus and Dean behind.

"This level of deduction is too simple for Sherlock."

Hearing their conversation, Ron couldn't help but turn around and join in.

"But he seems to be in poor condition. Can you still deduce the reason this ti?"

"I said before, I stabbed him with a sword!"

Hearing Sherlock say this with a straight face, the others first froze, then burst into laughter.

"Hols, how long do you plan to keep up this joke—"

"I still say, if this is true, then let be unable to find a girlfriend before I'm twenty, hahaha—"

"Hey, keep it down!"

Hermione across the aisle couldn't help but speak.

Although Professor Quirrell seed easily bullied, don't forget he was Voldemort's minion!

Even though this matter was under Dumbledore's control, they should still be careful.

Perhaps Quirrell's usual disguise was too successful, or perhaps Ron's mory was too poor. In any case, Ron clearly didn't grasp Hermione's intention. Suppressing his laughter, he looked at his deskmate:

"Neville, why don't you just go ask him directly."

"? I'd rather not—"

In Neville's view, although Quirrell wasn't as frightening as Snape, he still didn't dare face a Hogwarts professor alone.

Except for Professor Sprout—because she always reminded Neville of his grandmother.

"I'll do it!"

Seeing Neville chicken out, Seamus volunteered and ran to inquire about Professor Quirrell's health before class officially began.

Watching Seamus charge forward, both Harry and Hermione's hearts jumped.

Hermione was relatively okay, but Harry knew clearly that the Quirrell before them was the person who had fought them in the Forbidden Forest that night.

If Sherlock said he stabbed him with a sword, then he really did stab him with a sword.

However, seeing Sherlock's calm expression, he could only pretend nothing had happened.

Seamus quickly got Quirrell's answer—the vampire's curse had acted up again, and he had to rest to suppress it.

Of course, the garlic sll from that turban had also beco stronger.

Harry couldn't concentrate on the lesson throughout the entire class.

After lunch, when they returned to the common room, Ron couldn't help asking:

"Harry, what's wrong with you today? You seed absent-minded."

Although Quirrell usually stuttered through lessons and only read from textbooks, Harry had never been as distracted as today. It was quite unusual.

"Quirrell—has returned."

"Yeah, now I have to admit Sherlock was right. The old bat really is more capable than Quirrell.

At least he can actually teach us things."

Ron shook his head and suddenly drew his wand: "Expelliarmus!"

The tea leaves gifted by Cho Chang in Sherlock's hand didn't budge.

Looking at the sowhat embarrassed Ron, he shook his head: "If you want to cast a Disarming Charm on next ti, rember to make your wand-drawing motion smaller."

"Hehe—"

Ron scratched his nose embarrassedly.

He looked at Harry again: "I know you look down on him, but we can't expect the old bat to teach two subjects forever, right?

Even if Sherlock and Hermione earn more points in other classes, it wouldn't be enough!"

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