Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

Sherlock looked at the petrified Bowtruckle and was stunned for the first time.

He recalled the state where he seemed to be invincible just now, and he used the Explosion Curse, the Stunning Curse and the Dancing Curse as soon as he thought about it.

Then with another thought, he erased all the effects of these spells.

Of course he couldn't achieve that effect now, but he didn't use a wand or even a magic beam after it took effect. He just uttered the spell with his lips, and it immediately took effect on the established target.

This gave Sherlock an incredible feeling about himself.

Although he had been able to use control magic to perform some simple transformations and small spells before, a wizard with a little bit of strength could also do these without a wand and without sound.

Now this petrification spell is different.

After looking through the entire history of magic, I can't find any wizard who can use magic to this extent.

In this disguised form, it is already a matter of following one's words!

Sherlock thought and uttered the spell again.

"The curse stops immediately."

The moment his spell fell, the motionless Bowtruckle on the branch returned to normal.

It seemed to be frightened. After it could move normally, it quickly ran to the top branch and glared at Sherlock with its small eyes from a high position.

Sherlock didn't pay attention to its emotions, but turned to stare at a small tree that was dead for no apparent reason.

"Shattered to pieces."

"boom!"

The spell took effect immediately, and the dry tree trunk shattered on the spot, sawdust flying everywhere, but there were still large pieces of broken wood that fell to the ground.

This crushing spell allowed him to see more intuitively the intensity of the spell used with control magic.

It was very weak, even weaker than when he used control magic to control the wand to cast spells.

And it consumes a lot of money. Just a petrification spell, a universal dispelling spell and a crushing spell made Sherlock feel tired.

Obviously this method cannot be used frequently.

But even so, it still made Sherlock extremely excited.

He knows very well what this means means. The most difficult thing about everything is the process of starting from scratch.

Whether it is strong or not is one thing, but whether it is strong or not is another matter entirely.

Moreover, there will definitely be other Horcruxes waiting for him in the future, and the room for improvement of this ability is extremely huge.

Sherlock was in a good mood. He sat in front of Eddie's grave and chatted with him for a while. He said something like, "Don't worry, I will help you take care of your daughter in the future." I will send her down one day so you can see how miserable she is" and the like.

The sun gradually sets in the sky.

Seeing that it was getting late, he got up from the ground, snapped his fingers, muttered "Clean up" to clean the dirt on his robe, picked up the cracked golden cup and walked out of the Forbidden Forest.

Back at Hogwarts Castle, Sherlock went directly to Principal Dumbledore's office and placed the broken golden cup in front of him.

"This is the second one."

Dumbledore stared deeply at the golden cup, and he could tell its origin at a glance.

"A relic of Helga Hufflepuff."

"It is said that the four founders of Hogwarts each left their most precious relics, Gryffindor's sword and Hufflepuff's golden cup. What are the remaining two?" Sherlock asked.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"No one knows this except the descendants of the two founders, but Ravenclaw's relic may be the crown that can bring wisdom to people."

"You're guessing, since Riddle can make Hufflepuff's golden cup into his Horcrux, it may not be impossible for him to do the same with the other two unknown relics."

With his intelligence, of course he can think of things together with Sherlock.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Especially since he himself is a descendant of Slytherin."

Dumbledore gently tapped the back of his left hand with the fingers of his right hand and said softly.

"I'm going to visit Tom's hometown in a while."

Sherlock asked in surprise.

"Does he still have family members alive?"

Dumbledore seemed to have recalled something, and there was a hint of recollection in his eyes.

"He had an uncle who was still alive before, but he was imprisoned in Azkaban for killing three Muggles living in the same town. In the end, he also died of illness in that prison."

"But I think there should be some discoveries in the place where his family lives. Are you interested in going there with me? Sherlock."

He extended an invitation to Shylock, but Shylock didn't agree.

"Wait until you decide the time. I'm not sure if I have anything else to do later."

They chatted for a while and then Sherlock left the principal's office.

After he left, Dumbledore folded his hands on the table, with an expression on his face that showed no emotion.

"The founder's relic..." He murmured softly, and then suddenly said to the empty office, "Phineas, please help me invite Mrs. Gray here."

Among the portraits of past principals on the wall, a thin old man opened his hazy sleepy eyes, complained a few times, and then disappeared from the frame.

...

Summer vacation has officially begun.

Sherlock didn't take the Hogwarts Express back together, as that would take a whole day.

He used Apparition to arrive at the door of his home on Magnolia Road. Just as he was about to take out the key to open the door, his eyes were suddenly attracted by a place.

That was the yard of the neighbor's house. Sherlock only lived at home for two months a year, so he had no intersection with the neighbors on both sides.

But he vaguely remembered that the hostess of the family on the left seemed to like red maple trees very much. She planted two trees in the yard and made a swing for her daughter between the two trees. When the golden maple leaves fell in autumn, the scenery was very charming.

It was summer now, and the two red maple trees were lush and leafy, but the most notable thing was not the red leaves swaying in the wind, but the old windmills filled on the treetops.

Sherlock looked at those very familiar windmills without blinking, "Hualala" spinning with the breeze, his mouth wide open, as if he had seen something incredible.

"Is it beautiful?"

An extremely familiar voice sounded behind him.

Sherlock didn't look back, still staring at the windmills full of trees.

"How much did you spend to buy this yard?"

The owner of the voice tilted his head, thinking as if calculating a specific amount.

"Not counting taxes and other expenses, the family received a total of about 200,000 pounds."