HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES Chapter 132: 0132 The Return Journey

It wasn't until Gemma Farley's figure completely disappeared from view that Ron turned around.

He looked at Sherlock with excitent and said:

"Sherlock, you were absolutely brilliant just now!"

His words resonated strongly with everyone present.

Flint's actions on the Quidditch pitch were witnessed by all—he had nearly knocked Harry off his broomstick.

Of course, in the Wizarding world, even falling from great heights wouldn't necessarily be fatal.

But from the mont Flint deliberately tried to ram soone, it ant he had never considered such consequences.

"What a pity, I was hoping to see Mr. Hols solve the last case of the year at school!" said Alicia, Cho Chang's friend, as if she thrived on drama.

Hearing her words, Cho Chang felt sowhat embarrassed, and Lucy also shook her head secretly.

This friend of theirs had always been like this—saying whatever ca to mind, a pure chaos-lover.

Fortunately, she always maintained her principles when it truly mattered.

Next, after Cho Chang made plans with Harry to correspond during the sumr holidays, she left with her two friends.

Neville had a poor mory and was always worried about forgetting sothing, so after finding Trevor, he had been eager to rush back and pack his belongings.

Having been delayed for so long, he was now hurrying away.

He could see that as long as he stayed near Sherlock and Harry, he would inevitably get caught up in all sorts of incidents.

So only Sherlock and his three companions remained in the clearing.

"Sherlock, are you really not going to get involved in this matter?" Hermione asked imdiately, unable to contain herself any longer. "I really want to know who did it."

"Exactly!" Ron clenched his fists and threw a few punches at the air. "Beating Flint black and blue and leaving him on the grass to feed the mosquitoes—just thinking about it is so cool! If I could et this person, I'd definitely call him big-bro!"

Sherlock: "Mm."

Ron: "(OAO)/"

"Sherlock, what are you 'mm'-ing about?"

"Weren't you just calling big-bro? I accepted."

"I said if I could find the guy who beat up Flint—"

At this point, Ron suddenly realized what was happening. He couldn't help but gasp.

Harry and Hermione also looked at Sherlock with disbelief.

Hermione looked shocked: "Sherlock, are you saying—you, did it?"

"It was .

That night everyone was celebrating, and in such chaotic circumstances, doing sothing like that was far too simple.

Alcohol had numbed Flint's brain, reducing his alertness to the minimum. A simple Stunning Spell was enough to knock him out.

Then I gave him a little lesson, and it seems the effect has been quite good."

After briefly explaining what had happened, Sherlock even playfully joked with them: "So I could hardly arrest myself, could I?"

"I rember now!"

Just then, Ron's brain seed to suddenly work, his face flushed red with excitent and sudden realization.

"During that Quidditch match, you already said it!"

Sherlock smiled slightly: "My dear Ron, your mory has finally served its proper purpose."

Harry and Hermione were confused: "Ron, what did Sherlock say?"

"Listen, you two weren't in the stands at the ti:

Harry, you were still playing; Hermione, you went to interfere with Quirrell's curse!

When that bastard Flint nearly knocked Harry down, Sherlock already said he would pay the price."

Hearing Ron's explanation, Hermione softly said "Oh," her face showing understanding.

'So, Sherlock had already decided back then?'

Harry's mouth opened slightly, his eyes filled with shock and emotion.

When Sherlock had told Farley earlier that he didn't want to take on this case, Harry had already been moved by this friendship. Now his green eyes glistened with tears that were about to spill over.

However, just then, one of Sherlock's remarks left him stunned.

"Actually, that prefect had already suspected I was the one who did it before she ca to find .

After our conversation just now, she's even more certain."

Ron looked shocked: "What? You're saying she knows?"

Hermione and Harry also looked at Sherlock in surprise.

"It's sothing very easy to deduce, like her pointing out that Flint's hospitalization ti was the sa as Harry's...

I won't give you the specific details, lest I insult your intelligence."

This remark imdiately made Ron abandon his original plan to inquire further.

"Will she tell anyone about this?" Harry asked urgently.

He was worried that Flint would seek revenge once he found out.

Sherlock had done this for his sake—he absolutely wouldn't allow Sherlock to be hard because of it!

"No," Sherlock shook his head. "My agreeing to take that Galleon just now was the condition for the exchange."

This ti, Hermione understood as well.

Sherlock's last case at school had co to an end in such a dramatic fashion.

Although he hadn't accepted the commission, he had discovered the truth imdiately.

As Farley had said, she didn't reveal the matter.

Despite Flint himself and so Slytherin students expressing strong dissatisfaction, the matter ultimately ca to nothing.

Even Slytherin's Head of House, Professor Snape, was dismissive of it.

"As a wizard, he doesn't even have basic alertness!

What he should be doing now is practicing magic properly, instead of raging here like a brainless troll!"

Thus, while other students were leaving school, Flint had to lie in the hospital wing for another two days.

For the first-year students, it was still Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts' Keeper of Keys and Grounds, who led them aboard the fleet of boats crossing the lake.

As soon as he saw Harry, this sentintal giant hugged him and burst into tears again.

The reason, naturally, was that he had told Quirrell how to get past Fluffy, the three-headed dog.

"You nearly died! I'm such an idiot!"

"Oh, don't say that, Hagrid, it wasn't your fault!"

Since he had already cried once in front of Sherlock, Hermione, and Ron, releasing much of his emotion, and with the young wizards' comfort, Hagrid stopped crying fairly quickly this ti.

Perhaps out of guilt, or perhaps he had long intended to do this, he gave Harry a special parting gift.

On the surface, it looked like a beautifully wrapped book.

But when Harry opened it, he was astonished to find it filled with wizard photographs.

Though the binding was sowhat crude, that wasn't the point.

Because on every page, smiling and waving at Harry, were none other than his father and mother.

Jas and Lily.

"These photos ca from different places," Sherlock said, his gaze sweeping over the photographs, confidently stating their origin. "Then bound and organized by the sa person."

Hagrid nodded vigorously and said to Harry:

"I sent owls to your parents' old school friends, asking them for photos.

Dumbledore gave the day off yesterday to put this together.

Do you like it, Harry?"

Harry didn't speak—he'd been moved too many tis these past two days, and tears seed to have beco cheap.

But his answer was obvious, and Hagrid understood completely.

After waving goodbye to Hagrid, the first-years—oh, they couldn't be called first-years anymore—anyway, all the young wizards boarded the Hogwarts Express once again.

After Ron had complained about the speed, everyone accepted Sherlock's explanation.

Calling it the Direct Express was more appropriate than the Hogwarts Express.

Unlike their curious, nervous, and excited feelings when arriving last year, everyone was chatting and laughing, high-spirited on the return journey.

From ti to ti, people would co to the compartnt where Sherlock and Harry were sitting, naturally wanting to hear the adventure stories of the Lion King and the Boy Who Lived.

Harry didn't want to repeat the experience, and neither did Hermione.

Sherlock even less so.

So only Ron enthusiastically and tirelessly told the legendary tale of how the Lion King and the Boy Who Lived had led them through seven trials and defeated Quirrell, over and over again.

In his telling, he emphasized that Professor McGonagall's giant chess set was the most difficult, dangerous, and ti-consuming of all the challenges.

At the crucial mont, a red-haired hero had stepped forward, making a great sacrifice with selfless dedication for the entire team, enabling them to reach the final challenge in ti and stop Quirrell.

The young wizards who ca to the compartnt listened with rapt attention, full of admiration.

The way they looked at Ron made him feel like he was about to fly with happiness.

Seeing this, Sherlock, Harry, and Hermione exchanged smiles.

As long as he was happy.

As ti passed, the countryside outside the windows beca greener.

When the train began passing through towns, the voice that had once announced their arrival at Hogwarts sounded again.

The young wizards took off their wizard robes and changed into jackets and shirts.

This ti, Hermione didn't leave but stayed in the compartnt with great interest to witness Sherlock's entire changing process.

Finally, the train stopped at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross Station.

Compared to Christmas ti, it took them much longer to all exit the platform.

It was still the sa old guard at the ticket barrier, allowing only two or three people through at a ti.

This way, they wouldn't all erge from the solid wall at once and attract the Muggles' attention.

"You must co to our house this sumr," Ron said to the three of them. "All of you—I'll send owls to invite you."

"Thank you," Harry nodded definitely. "I really need sothing to look forward to."

Hermione once again reminded Sherlock: "You must write letters and call !"

She knew Sherlock—if she didn't emphasize this repeatedly, he would forget about it completely before long.

When they reached the exit to the Muggle world, people kept pushing past them and greeting them—mainly Sherlock and Harry, of course.

Ron couldn't help saying: "Hey, you're even more famous than at Christmas!"

"I assure you again, where I'm going, I'm not," Harry said, turning to Sherlock. "You should be different though, right?"

In his view, soone like Sherlock shouldn't be unknown even in the Muggle world.

Sherlock didn't answer, just stuffed a pile of magical world sweets into Harry's hands.

"Sherlock, what's this for?"

"My dear Harry, I'm confident you'll find a use for them."

Harry accepted the sweets with confusion, soon putting this question aside.

Because their families were already waiting for them.

"He's there, Mum, he's there, look!" a little girl with red hair shrieked. "Look, Mum! I can see—Harry Potter!"

"Keep your voice down, Ginny, it's rude to point at people," said Mrs. Weasley, who had co with her youngest daughter to et Ron and his three brothers.

She was a short, plump woman with a brilliant smile on her face.

It's worth noting that she was even more enthusiastic toward Sherlock and Harry than toward her own son Ron.

This was naturally because Sherlock had invited Ron to visit his ho during Christmas and had given him a wand as a Christmas gift.

For this, she had prepared a homade gift long ago.

It was a beautifully crafted box tied with colorful ribbons.

Opening the box, Sherlock found a card with blessing words written on it.

Inside the box were magical candies Mrs. Weasley had made herself, including Fizzing Whizzbees and Chocolate Cauldrons, with so innovative flavors and styles she had created herself.

"Thank you so much!"

Mrs. Hols, who had co to pick up Sherlock, happened to see this scene. After inquiring, she hugged Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you for giving Sherlock a gift."

"It's what I should do. Sherlock takes good care of Ron at school."

As the two chatted, they simply pulled Mrs. Granger into their conversation as well.

But when they invited Mrs. Dursley, they were ruthlessly refused.

Mr. Dursley's hair was much thicker than before—apparently, the Potter family's hair growth potion was working well for him.

Dudley's figure had also changed sowhat, but obviously not as dramatically as Mr. Dursley's transformation.

Harry estimated this was because the special diet pills' effects weren't enough to offset his cousin's outrageous food intake.

Though Ron could also eat a lot, compared to his cousin Dudley, he was nowhere near the sa level.

To put it in perspective, in terms of eating ability, Ron's power level was only about six thousand, while Dudley's was at least over ten thousand.

"Say goodbye to those friends of yours and co over quickly. We don't have much ti to waste here," Harry heard Uncle Vernon grumble.

Harry smiled.

It sounded sowhat rude, but Uncle Vernon's attitude toward him was already much better than before.

In the past, he wouldn't have dared to hope that Uncle Vernon would co to the station to pick him up personally.

It was all because of Sherlock!

Perhaps eting Sherlock really was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him!

Thinking this, he couldn't help but look toward Sherlock again.

"Sherlock, it seems you've made quite a few friends," Mrs. Hols said, watching one young wizard after another greet her son as they passed by. She couldn't have been happier.

The students from the magical world were truly adorable!

"Yes, friends..."

Hearing his mother's words, Sherlock turned around and happened to see Harry looking his way, waving vigorously at him.

Sherlock smiled.

'Magic... how interesting indeed!'

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