HP: Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts

The moment Snape was asked to leave the headmaster's office, he stepped out and immediately spotted Harry and Hermione whispering nearby. His expression darkened.

"What are you two still doing here?"

Startled, Harry quickly tried to explain, "Professor, we were just—"

But before he could finish, Snape cut him off mercilessly.

"Potter, I'm not your nanny."

He ignored Hermione completely, his gaze like daggers boring into Harry.

"Why can't you use your brain before acting? Or is that thing on your neck just for decoration?"

The venom in Snape's words left Harry dumbstruck, unable to reply.

"And it's not just your brain—what about your ears? Didn't you hear me? Why are you still here? Do you want me to give you detention?"

Harry and Hermione both turned pale.

Just then, Professor McGonagall stepped out of the office, her face even more severe than Snape's.

"Professor Snape, Potter is here under my orders. He's a Gryffindor student. If disciplinary action is needed, it should come from me."

Snape was visibly taken aback seeing her emerge from the office too, though a flicker of realization soon passed through his eyes.

Harry and Hermione both thought they saw the corners of his mouth twitch upward—was that a smirk?

"Very well, Professor McGonagall. But I do believe you're being far too lenient—"

"Severus, I am the Head of House."

This time, it was Snape who was interrupted.

He looked at McGonagall in surprise, clearly not expecting such a direct rebuttal.

But McGonagall ignored him, turning to lead Harry and Hermione away without another word.

Originally intending to wait for Sherlock, the two students were now silent and obedient, too intimidated to resist.

In that moment, they felt that Professor McGonagall was even scarier than Professor Snape.

Once the three had disappeared from sight, Snape glanced back toward the headmaster's office. His gaze grew complicated before he turned and walked off in silence.

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Inside the headmaster's office—

Sherlock could clearly sense that Professor McGonagall was even more upset than Snape about being asked to leave.

He turned to Dumbledore. "Was it really necessary to wait until we were alone to have this conversation?"

"It is," Dumbledore replied, "but we're not quite there yet."

He tapped the desk lightly with his wand, then looked up at the portraits on the wall.

"My friends, might I ask you to give us some privacy?"

The painted figures—men and women alike—had been lightly snoring in their frames when Sherlock first entered. Now, with Dumbledore's request, many began grumbling in protest.

Some had been pretending to nap, but under Dumbledore's gaze, they gave up the charade, muttering irritably as they left their frames through the sides.

"They're all former headmasters of Hogwarts," Dumbledore explained once the portraits were empty, a trace of reverence in his eyes.

Instinctively, Sherlock asked, "Will you be one of them, too?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Dumbledore was briefly thrown off by the question.

"I mean," Sherlock clarified, "will you end up hanging on that wall someday too?"

"…Yes," Dumbledore answered after a pause. "Though I do hope that day is still far away."

Sherlock gave a subtle nod of understanding.

After a brief silence, Dumbledore finally spoke—and what he said was explosive.

"I suspect that Quirrell… has already begun working for Voldemort."

Sherlock didn't look surprised. "So Voldemort really isn't dead?"

"I've never believed he was," Dumbledore replied solemnly. "Many think he perished eleven years ago, but for a dark wizard as powerful as he was, cheating death isn't such an insurmountable feat."

He then turned his curious gaze to Sherlock. "You don't seem surprised by this."

"Rubeus Hagrid once said something similar to Harry," Sherlock said plainly. "And after coming to Hogwarts, certain things confirmed my suspicions."

"But if you already knew this," he continued, "why not simply expel Quirrell from the castle?"

By all accounts, Voldemort's power was beyond question. Even in a weakened state, he would be no trivial threat.

So why not nip the danger in the bud?

"Quirrell… was a talented Ravenclaw. As headmaster, I cannot so easily abandon my student—even if he has already graduated."

Dumbledore's voice grew heavy.

"He's changed a great deal since the start of term, but I can still sense his inner struggle. Isn't that what you've sensed too?"

"Is that why you sent everyone else away?"

Sherlock almost laughed.

"Quirrell was your student, but aren't the rest of us also your students?

Harry. Myself. All the first-years. Every older student in this castle.

Are you seriously gambling all of our lives just to try and save someone who may already be beyond saving?

For someone who wrote 'RACHE' in blood—revenge—I don't think he's worth it."

Sherlock's words bordered on outright condemnation.

But Dumbledore, unlike Snape, didn't respond with anger. His voice remained calm.

"Sherlock, I must admit—you're even more remarkable than Minerva described."

"Thanks, but you already said that earlier."

Even in the face of praise from the greatest white wizard of the century, Sherlock didn't seem proud in the slightest.

"You're not a fool. So tell me—what gives you the courage to keep Quirrell in the school?"

"I'm sorry. I have a theory, but there are some things I can't tell you just yet…"

"It's Harry, isn't it?"

"…What?"

Sherlock's words once again caught Dumbledore off guard.

"You're placing your hopes on Harry, aren't you?"

Sherlock stared at him, expressionless.

Dumbledore looked back at Sherlock, but said nothing.

The boy's preternatural insight reminded him of someone… an old friend, perhaps. But before he could dwell on the memory, Sherlock launched into a sharp and rapid tirade:

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore—Headmaster!

People say that Voldemort fears only you.

But you just said it yourself—he's a dark wizard capable of defying death.

So tell me—how can a child possibly be expected to fight the one who started the wizarding war?

He's still just a child!

A first-year student who's barely begun learning magic!

Do you truly believe that Harry Potter is the Chosen One, the boy who defeated Voldemort?

If that's the case, then maybe you should take a vacation to the jungles of Uganda and try sumo wrestling with a silverback gorilla.

Maybe after a few good slaps to the head, you'll start thinking straight!"

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