The flas in the fireplace danced like playful sprites in the brick-built hearth.
Warm orange-red light flowed in layers over the piles of parchnt scrolls, gilt-edged books, and ancient magical artifacts marked by the passage of ti.
The air was perated with a faint fragrance of cedar mixed with old paper, flowing quietly in the warm light.
Headmaster Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting lightly on the armrests of his chair, listening attentively to Sherlock's analysis of his old colleague Horace Slughorn.
His bright blue eyes sparkled with focused light behind his half-moon spectacles, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes slightly smoothed by his concentration.
Perched on its stand, the phoenix Fawkes ruffled his golden feathers, tilting his small head. His obsidian-like round eyes moved curiously back and forth between Sherlock and Dumbledore.
His tail feathers occasionally swept lightly across the perch, making soft rustling sounds.
The portraits of past headmasters hanging on the walls, not having been asked to leave by Dumbledore this ti, also watched the two n in the room intently like Fawkes.
At this mont, all eyes focused on Sherlock as he spoke eloquently.
Even the most severe Phineas Nigellus had set aside his critical expression.
"All of Professor Horace Slughorn's operational logic—whether it's investing in talent, choosing his teaching position, cultivating connections, or his almost panicked escape when facing danger—all serve this ultimate goal. stability.
Undoubtedly, he is a true Slytherin, the typical elitist rather than a pure-blood supremacist.
He has taken shrewdness, self-preservation, and ambition limited to the safe range to the extre.
It's just that this philosophy of stability isn't completely constructed, because it lacks a crucial elent—the courage and determination to maintain stability.
So, when facing the absolute storm that Voldemort brings, this goal is destined to crumble.
Unfortunately, even now, he still hasn't realized this. He's still trying to escape.
What's laughable is that he can't even escape your investigation now, let alone Voldemort lurking in the shadows.
What's pathetic is that you still need my help to find the key information from such a person."
After hearing Sherlock's analysis of Slughorn, Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise.
His silver-white eyebrows rose slightly. After a long mont, he slowly removed the half-moon spectacles from his nose.
With a light tap of his wand tip on the lenses, they instantly beca spotlessly clean.
"Sherlock, if I didn't know the truth, I would almost suspect that you were the one who had known Horace for over sixty years, not ."
Dumbledore's voice carried undisguised amazent.
He gently rubbed the smooth fra edge with his fingertips, put his glasses back on, his eyes gleaming with approval.
"There's no need to say that, Headmaster. I rely summarized based on your statents. It's hardly worth ntioning."
"So, are you prepared to help uncover that secret?"
"No, this is far from enough."
Sherlock shook his head, his gray eyes revealing rigor.
"As I just said, everything I ntioned was rely a summary based on your description of this professor.
But hearing only your account is ultimately sowhat one-sided. I need more samples.
By the way, besides Tom Riddle who used Professor Slughorn, do you know any other mbers of the Slug Club?"
Dumbledore nodded, then rattled off a string of nas.
"Ambrosius Flu, he's the owner of Honeydukes.
Avery, a mber of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, who later beca a Death Eater.
Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet.
Dirk Cresswell, an official in the Goblin Liaison Office at the Ministry.
Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team."
Sherlock wasn't familiar with these people, but he still noted their nas.
This fully confird Dumbledore's earlier description of Professor Slughorn—his students were spread throughout the world, in every sector of the magical community.
But when he reached the end, Dumbledore ntioned several nas that were unexpected yet reasonable.
"Potions Professor Severus Snape, Harry's mother Lily—they had very high talent in Potions and were deeply favored by Horace at the ti.
Malfoy's father Lucius, Sirius's brother Regulus—their talents weren't equal to Severus and Lily's, but their families also made Horace regard them differently.
And Divination Professor Sybill Trelawney—she's the great-granddaughter of the renowned Seer Cassandra Trelawney."
"Regulus?"
Sherlock noticed this na sensitively.
"Yes, Regulus Black. I think you should have heard his na."
"Sirius's younger brother, once an admirer of Voldemort, joined the Death Eaters at 16, deeply loved by his parents.
Later realized Voldemort wasn't the person he imagined, so he wanted to leave the organization, but unfortunately it was too late.
In the end, he was killed by Voldemort or other Death Eaters—though all this cos from Sirius's account."
"Yes, that's him."
Dumbledore sighed deeply, as if thinking of sothing.
"There are many organizations in this world where joining often requires only a thought.
But leaving requires an entire lifeti, and even then, it may not be possible.
The Death Eaters founded by Voldemort are exactly like that."
Sherlock looked at Dumbledore with so surprise.
He could tell at a glance that Dumbledore wasn't just talking about Regulus, or rather, not only about Regulus.
Very interesting. This headmaster probably had the most secrets of anyone at Hogwarts, didn't he?
"A highly representative sample list."
After a mont of silence, Sherlock spoke, his voice still steady but now carrying the determination to act.
"It covers different family backgrounds, different temperants, and even completely different paths chosen later.
Very ideal, even more ideal than I imagined."
The light in Dumbledore's blue eyes flickered with understanding as he nodded gently.
"Professor Slughorn's taste or rather, his eye for investing in the future—is indeed quite unique.
These people, whether good or bad, have all left or continue to leave deep marks in their respective fields."
The phoenix Fawkes seed to sense the change in atmosphere and let out a pleasant low trill, his gold-and-crimson tail feathers swaying elegantly.
The old headmasters in their fras began their habitual whispers or pretended serious contemplation, but their gazes still drifted toward Sherlock, who was about to leave.
"Thank you for providing these leads, Headmaster Dumbledore."
Sherlock stood up as he spoke. "The accuracy of the information will directly determine whether I can crack the key secret in Professor Slughorn's heart.
I need to reconstruct a more authentic Horace Slughorn, not just through your mory filter.
Well then—good night."
Dumbledore was sowhat surprised.
He hadn't expected Sherlock to voluntarily offer to leave, but he still stood up. "Good night, and good luck to you, Sherlock."
After Sherlock left, the office beca quiet again.
The gaze behind Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles was deep and distant.
His fingertips gently brushed the fra edge again as he murmured to himself.
"Sample analysis, precise judgnt—the way Sherlock seeks truth will probably surprise even Horace himself, won't it?"
In the portrait fras, Phineas Nigellus let out a dissatisfied snort, muttering.
"Hmph, acting like so serious investigation—Dumbledore, I don't see how that boy could be more suitable than you."
The other old headmasters exchanged interested glances.
"I don't expect you to see it, Phineas."
Dumbledore answered calmly.
Fawkes tilted his head and let out another pleasant low trill.
The next day, Sherlock told his friends about the matter.
"Wh-what?"
"A Horcrux? I've never even heard of such a thing."
"Storing one's soul in other containers—just thinking about it seems terrifying!"
Harry, Hermione, and Ron each expressed their views on the matter.
In Sherlock's view, these were all correct but useless remarks.
"So, do you have any leads? Are you really going to find other people?"
"Yes, the information Dumbledore provided is already sufficient for to make a judgnt about Slughorn as a person.
But as I told him, this is only his side of the story.
To succeed on the first try, the preparatory work needs to be done more thoroughly."
"I don't understand."
By now, this phrase had almost beco Ron's catchphrase.
He would blurt it out from ti to ti.
"Why does it have to succeed on the first try? Even if we can't get it from that Slug Professor on the first—"
"It's Professor Slughorn, not Slug Professor!"
Hermione said disapprovingly.
"Actually, there's not much difference," Ron shrugged, dismissing Hermione's correction. "I an, even if the first ti doesn't reveal the truth, wouldn't it be fine to try a few more tis?"
"I'm afraid—not."
Unexpectedly, it was Harry who spoke this ti, not Hermione.
"According to Sherlock's analysis, this Professor Slughorn is clearly a cautious and careful person.
Headmaster Dumbledore rely asked him one question, and he imdiately resigned.
So, if we can't extract the truth on the first attempt, he'll probably run away again.
Finding him then won't be easy.
Am I right, Sherlock?"
Though Harry tried to complete his analysis, he wasn't confident, so after finishing, he asked Sherlock for confirmation.
"Excellent, Harry!"
Sherlock smiled and patted his friend's shoulder.
"Didn't I tell you? The deductive thod is contagious. Now you're increasingly attempting to use it to analyze problems."
"So, my deduction—"
"Completely correct!
It's precisely for this reason that I need more sample information, so that when I first et Professor Slughorn, I can find the truth.
Besides, our ti isn't so urgent that we need to see him imdiately."
Hearing Sherlock's praise for Harry, Ron looked indifferent.
With one friend already possessing extraordinary intelligence like Sherlock, and another walking encyclopedia in Hermione, even if there was one more Harry who occasionally had flashes of insight, it made no difference to him.
But Hermione's eyes suddenly beca sharp.
She glanced subtly at Harry, then said.
"Sherlock, I rember you should be able to get a professor's signature for the Restricted Section, right?"
Harry and Ron were both startled. "Hermione, what are you planning?"
Hermione didn't answer, only stared intently at Sherlock.
Sherlock smiled slightly, then took out a quill and parchnt from his pocket.
He directly signed the na Filius Flitwick on it, then stuffed it into Hermione's hand.
"Ah, is this, okay?"
Harry and Ron looked at Sherlock's operation in surprise. This was Hermione's thod?
This... this was far too simple and brutal, wasn't it?
Only Hermione examined it carefully, then revealed a satisfied smile.
"Exactly the sa."
After saying this, she carefully folded the paper and put it away, then turned and ran.
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
"Horcruxes—obviously a very advanced form of magic. It seems Hermione plans to check the Restricted Section?
But she used to be most opposed to this kind of shortcut!"
"She seems to want to prove herself," Ron whispered, "prove that she's more helpful to Sherlock than you are."
Harry: (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻
'Wait, what?
That's not necessary, really not necessary.
Your rival is Gemma, possibly even Luna, but definitely not !'
For Harry, he did want to help Sherlock with sothing.
Unfortunately, he currently had the will but lacked the ability.
With the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match imminent, he couldn't spare any ti at all.
News of Harry's Firebolt had long since spread throughout the school, so whenever Harry went to practice, people would co to watch.
As for Ravenclaw, Wood didn't think they would send spies to scout their tactics like Slytherin would.
In fact, Slytherin had never done such a thing either—the last incident was purely Wood's own subjective imagination.
But regardless, having so many people co to watch their training was still rather annoying.
So, he simply pulled strings with Madam Hooch again, then invited her to supervise Gryffindor Quidditch team training.
With a professor present, no one except Gryffindor Quidditch team mbers could enter the pitch anymore.
This made Wood very happy. This favor had finally not been wasted.
But he soon beca embarrassed again.
Because although Madam Hooch prevented others from entering, she herself had beco an obstacle to the team's training.
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