At Hogwarts, young wizards who served as Head Boy/Girl, prefects, or Quidditch captains enjoyed certain privileges to so extent.
On the Hogwarts Express, they had a dedicated compartnt, and at school, they had their own exclusive washrooms.
Furthermore, compared to ordinary students, they had advantages in communicating with the school's faculty.
As a prefect, Gemma understood this all too well.
An ordinary student couldn't even hope to "have a chat" with Dumbledore, let alone see him under normal circumstances.
But looking at Sherlock's current deanor, it was as if he wasn't going to the headmaster's office, but returning to his own ho.
This was truly hard to believe.
Seeing the shocked expressions of the three, Sherlock suddenly realized sothing and sat back down.
"Not going anymore?" Hermione couldn't help but ask when she saw Sherlock, who had already stood up, sit back down.
"I'll go after dinner. Dumbledore isn't in his office right now, and it's perfect timing to wait for Harry."
"You even know the headmaster's whereabouts?"
Gemma was even more surprised.
Sherlock Hols, what exactly are you trying to do?
"Miss Gemma, you needn't look so surprised. This is rely reasonable deduction."
Just as Gemma was about to ask how Sherlock had deduced this, an owl suddenly flew through the crowd, heading straight toward their direction.
Seeing this scene, Gemma couldn't help but show a surprised expression.
"It's Irene. Why has she co?"
The owl Gemma called Irene was a short-eared owl. It circled once in the air before landing on Gemma's shoulder.
Irene gently nipped at her ear, then jumped onto the table and extended one leg toward her.
A letter was tied there.
Gemma took the letter and had only glanced at it twice when her brow furrowed.
After reading the entire contents, her face imdiately showed a trace of apology.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't continue waiting with you for Mr. Potter and Mr. Creevey. Sothing urgent has co up that I need to handle."
"No problem, please go ahead."
Gemma took a deep look at Sherlock, then nodded to the three of them before turning and leaving.
Watching Gemma's hurried departing figure, Ron asked curiously.
"Sherlock, I'm sure you know what's happened to Prefect Gemma, don't you?"
"Insufficient evidence. I can't see much."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Ron couldn't help but shake his head in disappointnt.
In this short ti, Gemma Farley had successfully changed his stereotypical impression of Slytherin.
However, the next mont, he heard Sherlock slowly say.
"That owl's inner wings were stained with moss spores unique to the dungeons, obviously having just flown from the direction of the Slytherin common room.
The letter's edges showed scorch marks—that's the common technique of using a fla charm to quickly dry ink in ergency situations.
As Slytherin's prefect and being a conscientious and responsible person, Gemma's daily duties have beco increasingly nurous.
For her to imdiately abandon our eting, there must be an ergency in her house.
Looking back, Gemma had previously threatened Malfoy, warning him to restrain his behavior with the threat of 'Flint's fate.' Yet Malfoy was severely reprimanded by Flint himself, so I believe these two most likely had a conflict."
"I knew you could definitely see sothing!"
Sherlock shook his head. "However, these are just my speculations. If we were investigating a case, we could naturally work in this direction, but there's no need for that now."
Ron clenched his fists hard. "This ti I'm on Flint's side. I hope he can give Malfoy a good beating."
"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed," Sherlock said lazily under Ron's surprised gaze. "As long as Gemma intervenes, this matter will definitely be suppressed before it escalates—judging from her expression when she left, things obviously haven't developed to an overly urgent stage yet."
"Really? That's such a pity." Ron said sincerely.
Hermione sighed softly. "Miss Farley really is different from other Slytherins."
After saying this, the three began chatting again.
Because Gemma had brought new information, their conversation revolved around the Chamber of Secrets legend, and also Harry, who had been taken away by Lockhart.
However, none of them had expected that even after they finished dinner, Harry still hadn't returned.
Not only had Harry not returned, even Colin hadn't co back.
"I'll go see what's going on."
Hermione said to Sherlock and Ron, stood up, and ran off.
"She's always so impetuous," Ron complained sowhat. "We haven't even agreed yet."
"Ron, you should be happy. Originally, I was going to ask you to help inquire about the situation."
"Uh—well, alright then."
Hermione didn't keep Sherlock and Ron waiting long. About ten minutes later, she returned to the Great Hall.
"I didn't see Harry at all. Others said Professor Lockhart had him help reply to fan mail again!"
Hermione said with obvious displeasure. "He clearly promised last ti—"
"I told you, Lockhart doesn't think much of you. After all, you're not the Boy Who Lived."
Hermione couldn't be bothered with Ron and continued speaking to Sherlock.
"However, I did run into Colin. He's been waiting nearby, saying he must take another photo of Harry before going to sleep tonight."
"Then he's bound to be disappointed," Ron said, mimicking Sherlock's tone. "I rember last ti when Harry helped Lockhart reply to fan mail, he didn't return until midnight, right?"
Sherlock nodded. "He indeed returned to the dormitory after midnight."
Hermione looked at Sherlock. "Then—shall we also go rest?"
"I'm going to see Professor Dumbledore."
"Now?"
"Now."
"Uh—alright then."
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, unable to think of anything good to say, and finally could only say.
"Hope you can get the real news about the Chamber from Dumbledore."
"He might not tell ."
Sherlock recalled Dumbledore and McGonagall's behavior during the Mrs. Norris incident last ti, frowning.
"I can sense his and Professor McGonagall's hesitation and evasion. Or rather, he doesn't even think Mrs. Norris's attack is related to the Chamber, unless—"
"Unless what?"
Hermione quickly asked.
"Unless another similar case occurs."
"Hiss—"
Hermione and Ron both drew in sharp breaths.
Speaking of sothing serious in such a casual tone!
However, considering the person saying this was Sherlock, everything suddenly seed normal again.
Watching Sherlock leave, Ron said with so emotion.
"With Sherlock's abilities, he should be able to quickly figure out what this whole thing is about, right?"
"I can't say."
Hermione shook her head. "So far, we don't even know whether the Chamber truly exists, and even if it does exist, what exactly is the monster in the Chamber, and why would it attack Mrs. Norris.
This matter has far too many suspicious points, with various clues intricately tangled. I still have no clue at all."
Speaking of this, Hermione couldn't help but feel a deep sense of frustration.
Last term, whether it was Hannah's father's defamation case, Cho Chang's eyeshadow theft case, the Greek Translator case, or the Philosopher's Stone incident, she had been able to help Sherlock.
But this year, she found herself seemingly losing her usefulness all at once.
Especially with today's appearance of Gemma Farley, this feeling had intensified.
Although what Gemma had said about the Chamber incident fifty years ago was just a legend heard from family elders,
Hermione, who knew Sherlock well, knew that her good friend must have gained so inspiration from it.
Otherwise, he wouldn't be in such a hurry to see Dumbledore.
"It doesn't matter. We have Sherlock anyway. We can just dump all the difficulties on him."
Ron said shalessly.
Hermione didn't answer.
She secretly clenched her fists.
She had to do sothing—whether to help Sherlock solve the case or to help Harry clear his na.
anwhile, Sherlock had already arrived at the small tower where the headmaster's office was located.
Guarding the office was a massive stone gargoyle, behind which was an automatically rotating staircase. At the top of the stairs was the door to the headmaster's office.
Like the common rooms of Hogwarts' four houses, this place required the correct password to enter.
The previous tis Sherlock had co here, he had been brought by others. This ti, coming alone, he was naturally blocked.
"Password."
The mont it saw Sherlock, the gargoyle asked proactively.
"Lemon drops."
Sherlock answered without hesitation.
"Incorrect password."
The gargoyle said rcilessly.
"Heh, so it has been changed?"
When his previous password was denied, Sherlock chuckled and said.
"Dumbledore."
"Incorrect password."
"Tsk, then it can only be this."
After his second failed attempt, Sherlock spread his hands. "Cockroach Cluster."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the gargoyle ca alive.
It nimbly jumped aside, and the wall behind it split in half.
Behind the wall was a spiral staircase, slowly moving upward like an escalator.
As soon as Sherlock stepped on, he heard a rumbling sound behind him as the wall closed again.
He spiraled higher and higher, soon reaching the top with the staircase to arrive at the headmaster's office door—a gleaming oak door.
Sherlock stepped forward and lifted the brass door knocker shaped like a griffin, giving it a knock.
The door opened silently.
Sherlock wouldn't treat himself as an outsider. With the door open, he walked straight in without a word.
The light in the headmaster's office was dimr than in the corridor. Dumbledore was twirling a gold and red candy wrapper between his fingers, and those blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles looked at Sherlock with an expression that seed both amused and knowing.
"Sherlock, should I praise you for coming relatively early this ti?"
Regarding Sherlock's uninvited arrival, Dumbledore in his star-patterned nightgown wasn't surprised at all, and even joked with him.
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