Outside the Hogwarts gates.
Sherlock and Luna looked at each other.
"That's because you were surrounded by Wrackspurts."
When she heard Sherlock ask how she had detected him, Luna looked at Sherlock with sympathy and said.
"When you ca over just now, I felt several buzzing around here."
"Wrackspurts?"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
"Wrackspurts—they're invisible and float into your ears, making your brain go fuzzy."
Luna said while swatting at the air with both hands, as if shooing away invisible moths.
Sherlock stared at Luna, certain she wasn't joking with him, and couldn't help but chuckle.
"Interesting."
He had already morized "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" thoroughly. At this mont, he spent three seconds searching through his mory palace and found no creature called Wrackspurts that Luna described.
He also searched through other materials he had found in the library over the past two years, but still couldn't find this magical creature.
Luna didn't ask why Sherlock found it interesting, just once again reached out to gently stroke the thestral's body.
While stroking, she suddenly said. "You've also witnessed death."
"Obviously."
"Many people say these are unlucky creatures that bring all sorts of terrible disasters to those who see them. What do you think?"
After saying this, Luna stared fixedly at Sherlock.
If it were soone else, they might have found Luna's stare sowhat eerie.
However, Sherlock remained perfectly calm. "Evidence."
"What did you say?"
Perhaps not expecting Sherlock to answer this way, Luna tilted her head.
"I said—evidence. The prerequisite for any statent to be valid is strong evidence to support it."
Sherlock looked at the thestral behind Luna and said in a rapid voice.
"So far, there's no evidence that these creatures bring misfortune to people. For statents without evidence, I only treat them as rumors.
On the contrary, according to 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' and docunts in the Hogwarts library, thestrals are very intelligent and extrely useful. Once tad, they never leave their master.
Not only that, thestrals have amazing perception when it cos to direction. Just tell them where you want to go, and they'll take passengers to their destination.
Combined with their fast flying speed, in my opinion, creatures like these could completely replace flying broomsticks as transportation.
Because they can greatly save wizards' physical strength—what I'm more curious about now is how Hogwarts tad these magical creatures to serve them."
Sherlock also walked up to the thestral.
He and Luna stood side by side, then he placed his hand on the thestral.
The thestral felt just like a horse to his touch, which wasn't surprising to Sherlock.
Rather, this thestral's behavior was sowhat strange.
When it saw that both Sherlock and Luna could see it and were placing their hands on it, it drew back its neck.
"It's afraid."
Seeing the thestral's appearance, Luna said with certainty, "Because it's used to being invisible to others. Suddenly having both of us able to see it—it started getting scared."
Seeing Sherlock withdraw his hand, Luna tilted her head again, staring at Sherlock with curiosity.
"What else do you want to ask? Go ahead."
"You seem different from what Ginny described."
Luna paused, "I an, she said that although you're good friends with her brother, you're actually a strange person."
"I already said I don't really count as a normal person."
"Really? But I think you're quite normal."
"Thank you, I'll take that as a complint."
"By the way, what was the death you witnessed like? Can you tell ?"
Luna asked curiously. "People say—only those who have witnessed death can see thestrals. But I know people who have witnessed death but still can't see them."
"That's because this saying isn't accurate enough."
"Then what should the accurate saying be?"
"Only those who have directly witnessed death and understand the aning of death can see them. Simply witnessing death alone isn't enough to see them.
Of course, precisely because only those who have seen death can see thestrals, thestrals are considered unlucky symbols."
"I see—"
After hearing Sherlock's first sentence, Luna stopped paying attention to the rest.
She fell into deep recollection.
It was only today that she finally understood sothing.
When she was nine years old, her mother died accidentally while conducting spell experints. Since then, she had been raised by her father alone.
"So, from that ti, I was already able to understand the aning of death..."
When she ca back to her senses, ready to ask Sherlock a few more questions, she found empty space in front of her.
Sherlock had sohow disappeared.
Seeing her newly t companion leave without saying goodbye, Luna wasn't surprised at all.
She approached the thestral again, gently patting its gleaming neck.
"Sherlock Hols is not only a strange person, but also a very interesting person—"
The reason Sherlock left was that as soon as he saw Luna fall into contemplation, he understood what had happened.
After all, he himself would sotis fall into this state.
So, he knew very well that this state often lasted for a very long ti.
He had already spent enough ti at the school gates, so he simply returned to Hogwarts castle.
As for Luna Lovegood, let her continue contemplating there.
Sherlock was busy. Harry wasn't idle either.
Because that man had finally appeared.
Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, an ordinarily built strong man, and a Quidditch fanatic.
Since the start of term, Harry had been joining Sherlock for morning training every day.
But on this Saturday morning, this strong man actually arrived before Sherlock and Harry left their dormitory, directly waking Harry up.
"Sherlock, why is Oliver here so early today?"
The mont he saw Wood, Harry was wide awake.
What was going on?
Had the competition between teams beco so intense this year that even the Quidditch team captain was following Sherlock to learn boxing?
However, Harry had clearly misjudged the situation.
Wood's reason for coming so early had nothing to do with Sherlock.
He was simply there to call Harry to Quidditch practice.
According to the captain, early rising was part of their new training regin this year.
Because other teams hadn't started their training schedules yet, they wanted to be first.
Although constantly yawning, Harry still obediently got out of bed.
The kind-hearted boy had always felt that last year's final match defeat was his fault.
He had always wanted to do sothing for the team to make up for it. Now that he had this opportunity, he naturally wanted to work hard.
"Hols, you really don't plan to join?"
While Harry was looking for his team uniform, Wood looked at Sherlock again, his eyes gleaming with fanatical light.
"With your flying skills, if you could join our house team, our entire frontline defense would be—"
"Flawless!"
Before Sherlock could answer, Ron, who had been woken up, rubbed his eyes and instinctively interjected.
"Weasley, how did you know what I was going to say?"
Wood was very surprised that Ron could say what he was thinking.
"Please, my dear captain, you've said this to Sherlock countless tis already!"
Ron complained, "It's barely dawn! Even if you want to train, you don't need to go to this extent!"
Since the start of term, he had actually joined Sherlock and Harry for morning training once.
That was yesterday morning. However, after just that one ti, he decided to give up. Morning training and such—it was no fun at all!
So, he told Harry last night not to call him anymore. He was giving up, lying flat, not going anymore!
Today was Saturday, and he originally thought he could sleep in. He hadn't expected this Quidditch captain to co over again.
It was truly exasperating.
"Weasley, I rember you wanted to join the house Quidditch team last year?"
"That's right, but—"
"If you still have such plans this year, you'd better give up early. I really don't know how soone so young can sleep so soundly? The harsher our usual training conditions, the less likely we are to make mistakes in official matches!
And by the way, Mr. Hols, you really don't plan to join the house team?"
After receiving a negative answer, Wood, looking regretful, hurriedly left with Harry, who was wearing his bright red team uniform.
"My God, although I also love Quidditch, but Wood, that guy—"
As soon as Wood left, Ron couldn't help but complain to Sherlock, "I really don't know what to say about him."
"Having a hobby of your own and being able to strive tirelessly for it is actually quite enjoyable."
Hearing Sherlock's assessnt, Ron muttered, "I'm afraid only you would think that way."
Without Harry, and with Ron already deciding to give up, Sherlock went to morning training alone.
Solo training naturally required real equipnt, so the wooden stick originally used to teach Harry swordsmanship was left in the dormitory.
When he returned to the dormitory, he saw Ron and Neville playing with the long sticks he and Harry usually used for practice.
"Sherlock, you're back!"
As soon as Ron saw Sherlock, he excitedly called out to him.
"By the way, where did you find such straight and long sticks? We don't have sticks like this in our garden at ho!"
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