Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts

In the midst of the chaos, Harry and Ron followed Percy closely.

Despite his usual complaints, Percy took good care of his younger brothers in this critical moment.

"Don't worry, as long as you listen to my instructions, you don't need to be afraid of any trolls!

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Now, follow me closely... hey, you in front, make way, I'm a prefect!"

To be fair, Percy was a very responsible prefect.

However, on their way back to the Gryffindor tower, they encountered crowds of people hurrying in different directions.

While struggling to squeeze past a group of confused Hufflepuff students, even with Percy flashing his prefect badge, Harry and Ron still couldn't keep up with him.

Ron immediately became anxious.

Just then, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm.

Having spent a lot of time with Sherlock, Harry had also been influenced, and his divergent thinking had been strengthened.

He pulled Ron, who was trying to squeeze up to Percy, and said with a serious expression:

"I just remembered—Granger."

Ron, still not realizing the seriousness of the situation, asked with a puzzled look, "Granger? What's wrong with her?"

Harry looked into Ron's eyes and said, word by word, "She... doesn't know about the troll."

Ron's face paled instantly.

"Damn it, Sherlock..."

Nowadays, when encountering problems they can't solve, both Harry and Ron's first reaction is to ask Sherlock for help.

However...

Ron realized he couldn't find him.

"Sherlock? Sherlock! Where's Sherlock?!"

The two looked around, only to discover that Sherlock had disappeared at this crucial moment!

Harry immediately began to recall.

After a moment, he remembered that he hadn't seen Sherlock since Quirrell appeared.

No wonder he felt like something was missing along the way.

He wasn't among the Gryffindor first-years following Percy!

"Damn it, he must have gone to find Granger on his own!"

Ron said with certainty.

Harry also nodded.

Not many people in the school could make Sherlock call them by their first name.

Not to mention their first name, Sherlock couldn't even remember some people's last names—or rather, he simply couldn't be bothered to remember them.

After all, according to his theory that the brain is a hard drive, there's no need to store useless knowledge.

Making a decision without Sherlock for the first time, Harry and Ron were both nervous and excited.

The Gryffindor traits within them made them both eager to act.

"So, are we going or not?"

"Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

"Be careful, don't let Percy see us."

"Sherlock is really too unkind, is he afraid we'll hold him back?"

The two lowered their bodies, complaining as they mingled with the Hufflepuff crowd as they passed by.

After sneaking past an empty side corridor, the two sped up and headed straight for the dungeons.

As soon as they turned the corner, a stench hit them in the face.

How should I describe it?

If I had to, it would be the smell of Ron's month-unwashed socks mixed with a month-uncleaned public toilet.

Perhaps with the addition of some special flavors from Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Both of their facial muscles twitched as they held their breaths as much as possible.

Otherwise, even if they didn't faint on the spot, they were afraid they would throw up directly.

When the two cautiously peeked their heads out, they were immediately stunned by the scene before them.

...

When Quirrell appeared in the Great Hall and announced the troll, Sherlock immediately frowned, realizing that the situation was not simple.

He had to thank Professor McGonagall for this.

In order to fulfill his promise to her, he had been attending the Defense Against the Dark Arts class for the past two weeks, so he had become quite familiar with Professor Quirrell.

After first hearing about Quirrell's story, Sherlock instinctively felt that his story of a drastic change in personality after meeting a vampire was a bit fabricated.

Harry had even questioned it at the time, but because the conditions weren't right, Sherlock didn't continue to deduce.

However.

As he no longer missed Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, Quirrell's words and actions were all observed by him.

This person, there's something wrong with him!

If he were in the Muggle world, he would definitely investigate the matter thoroughly.

But not in the magical world.

One reason is that although Quirrell seems very unreliable, he is, after all, an adult wizard.

If Sherlock's deduction is correct, his strength is not bad at all.

Acting rashly would be absolutely unwise.

Sherlock would never let foolishness replace courage.

The second reason is time.

For Sherlock, time is always not enough.

Every professor at Hogwarts has secrets, and when Quirrell doesn't show a threat, his affairs can be put on hold.

Until today.

When he saw Quirrell stumbling in, Sherlock took less than a second to deduce the cause and effect.

He acted immediately.

As long as he acted fast enough, he could figure out the whole story at once.

And save Hermione by the way.

The subsequent development was just as he expected.

He arrived in the basement even before the troll.

Although he was less than half a minute faster than the troll.

But that little bit of time was enough for him to drag Hermione out before she was blocked in the girls' bathroom by the troll.

It was a literal "drag."

Hermione was almost speechless.

Her limbs were weak, her body was limp, and she could only walk because Sherlock was dragging her.

This was also reasonable.

Even if she is usually strong, she is just an 11-year-old girl.

After crying in the toilet for most of the day, she was already hungry and tired.

At this moment, suddenly seeing a behemoth like a troll, her mind had already gone blank.

After all, looking at the illustrated introduction in books and seeing a troll with your own eyes are completely different concepts.

What's more, the troll in front of her was twelve feet tall, a head taller than Hagrid.

But even though Hagrid is huge, his appearance is still that of a normal human.

This thing is different.

At first glance, its entire body seemed to be composed of huge piles of gravel.

The skin all over its body was grayish like granite, with dead leaves and silt hanging in more than one place.

The proportions of the limbs were extremely uncoordinated, the two legs were short and thick, like two tree stumps.

The two arms were too long, and the thick wooden club in its hand was dragging on the ground.

The small head was hidden in the neck, and it was almost invisible if you didn't have good eyesight.

Of course, the most prominent feature was the pungent stench.

If this creature appeared in a game, it might be a bit comical.

But once it appears in reality, the effect of megalophobia is immediately maximized.

As an 11-year-old girl, even a witch, it is not surprising to lose the ability to act when facing a troll.

As for Sherlock, his mental quality was already superior, and he was also prepared, so he was unexpectedly calm at the moment.