"While I was providing the book list to the bookstore manager, you were having a wonderful ti playing with those monster books.
When Ron ntioned he also needed a Divination textbook, your gaze remained fixed on a small table nearby.
There was nothing we needed there, so I deduced you must have seen sothing interesting that sparked your imagination.
At the ti, there were several books on divination placed there: Unfogging the Future: A Guide to Protecting Yourself from Shock, Broken Balls: When Misfortune Cos, Death Ons: What to Do When You Know Misfortune is About to Strike — so which one was it?"
After Sherlock finished this rapid-fire deduction, Harry looked at him in amazent.
"You actually morized all the book titles! My God, that's absolutely incredible!"
Although he had long known his friend's capabilities, Sherlock still managed to surprise him from ti to ti.
Seeing Harry's genuine shock, Sherlock's smile grew even brighter.
"Harry, these are rely trivial tricks — as for the book titles, rember what I told you about my mory palace? I simply tossed them inside."
"I... I didn't even rember the titles clearly, but now that you ntion it, I do recall constantly looking at that book about 'Death Ons.'"
"Death Ons: What to Do When You Know Misfortune is About to Strike? The one with the black dog on the cover?"
"Yes! That's the one!"
Harry said excitedly. He truly hadn't expected Sherlock to observe so carefully, sparing him any need for further explanation.
"That black dog was as large as a bear. When I saw it, I always felt it looked familiar, as if I'd seen it sowhere before."
"A sense of déjà vu?"
Sherlock clasped his hands together under his chin, falling into deep thought.
Harry didn't disturb him, simply watching quietly.
After a mont, Sherlock suddenly turned and asked.
"Do you rember? Last year, when you first heard the basilisk's voice in Lockhart's office, I asked if you'd ever heard a similar sound before."
Harry thought for a while, then said. "I rember. Your deduction at the ti was that the voice ca from so strange creature."
"Correct. Later, facts proved my deduction right — you had indeed heard a similar sound before, from that Brazilian boa constrictor at the zoo."
Sherlock paused here. "This ti, my deduction is the sa as before."
"You an I really have seen that big dog sowhere?"
"Not necessarily that large a dog."
Sherlock waved his hand. "It could also be a vague impression, or so dog-like symbol— it doesn't matter, you'll rember eventually.
Don't try to recall it deliberately; that would be counterproductive.
At so point, you'll rember it without even trying."
"But death ons—"
Seeing Harry's nervous expression, Sherlock smiled.
This was what Harry truly cared about.
He suddenly looked up. "London's fog isn't affecting us much today."
Harry looked at Sherlock in confusion, not understanding why he suddenly ntioned this.
Sherlock took out his hip flask and sipped so brandy, the aroma mingling with moonlight between his teeth.
"Harry, please look up at this starry sky."
Harry raised his head.
"Do you see the stars at the tail of Ursa Major?"
Just as Sherlock had said, tonight's sky was relatively brilliant, with a full moon hanging in the sky and countless stars scattered like pearls across a jade plate.
Following Sherlock's guidance, he easily spotted the Big Dipper at the tail of Ursa Major, and the specific star Sherlock had indicated.
Harry lowered his gaze, looking at Sherlock with confusion, still not understanding his aning.
"That is your death star shining in the sky."
Harry: (;￣Д￣)
"This is new knowledge from the planetary motion model I bought today."
Under Harry's shocked gaze, Sherlock took another sip of wine:
"The so-called death star is rely a divination ga woven from fear by fools, yet wizards read different taphors from it.
What I'm trying to say is: don't believe in so-called death ons. I prefer to call them: psychological suggestion.
The black hound you saw, like the lens of the Astronomy Tower telescope, rely reflects overlapping images of mory fragnts and psychological suggestion."
Harry knew Sherlock was trying to reassure him.
But...
How to put it?
This thod was quite unique.
September 1st, 1993.
In the morning, the Ministry of Magic once again sent a car to King's Road.
However, this ti Peasegood wasn't driving; he sat in the passenger seat.
The driver was a stern-faced wizard wearing a bright green velvet suit.
But Sherlock could tell this seemingly proper fellow had just left his bed, strawberry-like marks on his neck weren't completely hidden by his collar.
"Aren't Uncle and Aunt coming to the station?"
Having lived at Sherlock's house for so long, Harry felt sowhat reluctant to leave.
"Having Ministry people is sufficient," Sherlock said.
Compared to her reluctance when first sending Sherlock to the station in his first year, Mrs. Hols had grown accustod to seeing her child only twice a year.
She lovingly stroked Harry's head: "Dear, co back during winter and spring break!"
"Easter probably won't work," Sherlock shook his head. "Christmas would be possible though."
Harry didn't imdiately agree. Mainly because he felt embarrassed.
Besides, spending Christmas at Hogwarts was indeed quite interesting.
On the way to King's Cross Station, the Ministry car displayed the sa magical properties as yesterday.
It effortlessly passed through narrow gaps, completely unaffected by traffic jams.
The result was that they arrived at King's Cross Station with a full hour before departure.
The driver and Peasegood helped Sherlock and Harry retrieve their luggage from the car, then drove away. Harry was amazed to see the car sohow slip from the back of a line of cars waiting at a red light to the very front.
Truly remarkable.
Taking the familiar route to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Peasegood finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Mr. Peasegood, I don't think you need to be so nervous," Harry said, having spent two days with this forr student of Professor Flitwick, whom he found quite pleasant to deal with.
"Potter, you might not know how much pressure we're under," Peasegood said with a bitter smile. "The Ministry has practically stopped all other work just to capture Black. None of us want anything to happen to you."
"But—"
"Once you get to Hogwarts though, it'll be fine. It'll be absolutely safe there — provided you stay in the castle and don't go anywhere."
Hearing Peasegood's words, Harry couldn't help but sigh.
This was the second ti he'd heard the sa thing.
Hogsade...
He was already beginning to worry that even if he had a Hogsade permission form, Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall wouldn't let him go there.
Just then, Hermione's family arrived. They lived nearby, so they ca early.
Yesterday, when calling Mrs. Hols, Mrs. Granger had already learned that the Hols couple wouldn't be coming to the station, so she wasn't surprised to see only Sherlock and Harry.
"The two little ones have grown taller again," she said, hugging Sherlock and Harry, then looking at her husband with a mischievous glint in her eyes: "They'll definitely grow to six feet, both taller than you."
Mr. Granger: (￣ー￣)
Why bring this up out of nowhere?
A while later, the Weasley family arrived.
Only then did Peasegood feel comfortable leaving, having truly fulfilled his duties.
Mr. Granger and Mr. Weasley sohow started discussing fishing, both claiming they'd never returned empty-handed.
Mrs. Granger chatted with Mrs. Weasley about cooking, showing great interest in Mrs. Weasley's stories of managing seven children's daily needs.
As for the young wizards, they all gathered around, curiously examining the planetary motion model Sherlock and Hermione had bought yesterday.
"This is indeed a good thing," Percy voluntarily offered guidance as a senior: "As long as you're good at self-study, with this you won't need to attend Astronomy class. But before that, you should tell Professor Sinistra, oh, Penelope!"
Percy, who had been talking to Sherlock and Harry, suddenly blushed, smoothed his hair, and strode toward soone.
He deliberately puffed out his chest to display his gleaming Head Boy badge.
"Such a sha, we wanted to modify it yesterday," Fred Weasley couldn't help saying.
"But sohow, he was prepared in advance," George Weasley added.
"Caught us red-handed."
"And got us a severe scolding from Mum."
"Sigh..."
"Ah..."
Sherlock smiled without speaking, hiding his contributions.
Just then, the scarlet steam engine arrived.
Mrs. Weasley began kissing each of her children goodbye, followed by Sherlock, Harry, and Hermione.
"Take care of yourself, you hear, Harry?" She straightened up, then turned to Sherlock. "Good boy, I heard from Arthur. You and Hermione must watch over Harry, don't let him wander around, understand?"
Seeing both Sherlock and Hermione nod, she seed relieved.
"Mum, there's too! I can also watch Harry!" Ron imdiately said.
"You?" Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Not encouraging Harry would already be a great help!"
"I'm not— I didn't—"
"I made sandwiches for everyone, take them!"
"I don't want corned beef."
"Don't worry, it's not corned beef this ti."
"That's fine then."
Before boarding the train, Mr. Weasley found Harry once more.
He wanted Harry to promise that no matter what happened, he would stay obediently in the castle and not go looking for Black.
Like his wife, he also instructed Sherlock and Hermione to keep a close eye on Harry.
Clearly, the couple had made Sherlock and Hermione Harry's guardians.
As the whistle sounded and guards walked along the train closing doors one by one, and the engine began puffing steam and slowly moving, "Dad and Mum really are sothing. I feel like they're treating Sherlock and Hermione as if they're your parents."
"Ron, what are you saying?!" Hermione said indignantly, though for so reason, she felt secretly pleased.
"Let's find seats first," Harry said, feeling sowhat embarrassed. Having Sherlock as an older brother was perfectly fine, but as a father seed rather exaggerated.
And Hermione as a mother was even more ridiculous.
If possible, he'd rather have Mr. and Mrs. Hols as his parents.
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