Chapter 138: That Werewolf Is Me
Chapter 138: That Werewolf Is Me
After two more days, Sherlock finally returned to class, his emotions seeming to have returned to normal.
As soon as he entered the classroom, a group of sixth-year students began to complain.
"He's forcing us to study werewolves! Professor."
Sherlock tapped his forehead.
"Didn't you tell him that I've already covered everything about werewolves that I could?"
"We did, Professor, but he insists, saying you don't understand werewolves at all and that he will teach us how to identify and kill them!"
"He won't even let us answer questions. Even when he asks, he won't let us speak, insisting on repeating the same information we already know by heart!"
"We told him this is a practical class and that we've already covered most of the theoretical material, but Professor Snape just won't listen!"
"He even assigned us a two-roll parchment essay on werewolves! We barely have time for our regular assignments, let alone this!"
Over the past two days, in all of Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, the students have been grumbling nonstop.
He completely ignored the normal teaching schedule, even in first-year classes, insisting on teaching the young students, who had just learned the Levitation Charm, how to kill werewolves.
If there wasn't something strange going on, Sherlock would be willing to bet his head that it was a Golden Snitch.
Considering the odd behavior he displayed when Lupin and he asked him to substitute, it's clear that Snape is trying to hint at something through these Defense Against the Dark Arts classes.
But now, Sherlock has to clean up the mess he left behind. If he had known this would happen, he might as well have let the students study on their own, giving them more time to work on their assignments.
He shook his head and said,
"Alright, I was originally planning to go over the summer exam, but it seems we should make up the practical class we missed last time."
The classroom erupted in cheers, but one student still remembered.
"Two rolls of parchment on werewolves, Professor, two rolls of parchment on werewolves."
Sherlock waved his hand and led them to the practical class room.
"You don't need to do the assignment Snape gave you. I'll tell him."
The students' cheers grew even louder.
The sixth-year practical class didn't progress as quickly as the seventh-year class. Sherlock's main focus was teaching them advanced spell applications rather than one-on-one duels.
For example, advanced uses of the Standard Disenchantment and the Armor Charm.
On the same day Sherlock returned to class, Harry also left the Hospital Wing.
Madam Pomfrey had insisted he stay in bed for several days, but in reality, his body was fine by the first day he woke up.
What made Harry sad was that his broomstick, which had been caught in the wind when he fell, was torn to shreds by the Whomping Willow.
This was even more upsetting than losing the Quidditch match.
The Nimbus 2000 had been his companion for three years and was a gift from Professor Mcgonagall when he joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Returning to class, the only thing that somewhat lifted Harry's spirits was Professor Lupin's return.
In this class, Lupin also canceled the homework Snape had assigned and resumed the previous teaching schedule, discussing grindylows—dark magical creatures that live in water.
After Snape left the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, all the students in the castle felt much more at ease, and his efforts seemed to have been in vain.
Apart from Sherlock, no other student suspected that Snape had a hidden agenda in insisting on teaching werewolf knowledge.
After the Defense Against the Dark Arts class ended, Lupin asked Harry to stay behind to talk about the Quidditch match.
Lupin hadn't watched the match, so he only learned what happened afterward.
He explained the abilities of Dementors to Harry, reassuring him that being afraid of Dementors wasn't a problem, as the fears Harry had experienced were far more terrifying than those of others.
Harry was clearly still troubled by the incident, as he had heard his mother's voice being murdered by Voldemort just before he fainted on the pitch.
"You used a spell on the Dementor on the train", Harry said suddenly.
"There are certain defensive methods that can be used", Lupin said, "but it was only one of them on the train. The more there are, the harder it is to resist them."
"What kind of defensive methods?" Harry asked immediately. "Can you teach me?"
Lupin looked at him and smiled.
"To be honest, Harry, I'm not an expert in dark magic defense, and I'm certainly not an expert in dealing with Dementors."
"But I won’t be afraid of them anymore once I have a way to deal with them!" Harry said firmly.
Lupin looked at him, hesitated for a moment, and then offered a suggestion.
"If you really want to learn, I suggest you go to Sherlock. He’s the expert in this field. Before I started teaching at Hogwarts, I read a book he wrote about dark magical creatures. His understanding of Dementors is among the best in the Wizarding World."
Harry was taken aback.
"Professor Forrest?"
"Yes, Sherlock. He’s incredibly talented and is at the forefront of research in dark magic defense. And I have some things to do before Christmas. I really picked a bad time to get sick."
It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want to learn from Sherlock. In fact, after their summer travels, Sherlock was the teacher Harry felt closest to in the castle.
But it was precisely because of their closeness that Harry knew it was best not to bother him unless it was something really important. Otherwise, he might end up with some strange and unwanted “blessings.”
However, Harry really wanted to learn the magic that could deal with Dementors. After hearing Lupin’s recommendation, he decided to follow his advice and seek out Sherlock.
When Harry arrived at the office, Sherlock was grading fifth-year assignments.
He looked up, puzzled, when he heard Harry’s request.
"How did you know to come to me?"
"Professor Lupin told me. He said you’re an expert in dark magic defense. I asked him to teach me, but he said he’s not very good at dealing with Dementors and he has other things to do."
Sherlock didn’t pay much attention to the compliments; instead, he focused on Harry’s last sentence.
"Lupin said he has other things to do?" he asked, stroking his chin.
Harry didn’t understand why Sherlock was asking this, but he nodded honestly.
"Yes, Professor Lupin said he got sick at a really bad time."
Sherlock thought for a moment, then stared at Harry.
"Was he looking very pale and weak?"
Harry recalled what he had seen when he met Lupin.
"Professor did look weak, and his face was always pale."
Sherlock muttered to himself.
"That’s very similar, but it can’t be, can it?"
"What is?" Harry asked, confused.
"Nothing", Sherlock said, changing the subject. "Since you want to learn, I won’t refuse you. However, the Patronus Charm isn’t a simple defensive spell. It’s difficult to master, and you’ll need to be prepared for a long learning process."
Harry’s gaze was resolute.
"I won’t give up, Professor."
"Then follow me and learn well. Starting today, come to my office every Saturday and Sunday evening, and I’ll teach you how to use this spell."
Sherlock and Harry agreed on the schedule. Sherlock sat in his office, thinking for a long time. He decided that instead of speculating, he should go and ask Lupin directly.
As lunchtime approached, Sherlock left his office and found Lupin, who looked much more worn out than before.
"Want to go to the Great Hall for some food?" Sherlock asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Lupin smiled and declined.
"Go ahead, I still have some things to finish."
"I actually have something I want to ask you."
Hearing this, Lupin’s expression changed. He seemed to understand something, and his smile turned slightly bitter. He sighed and stood up from his chair.
"Alright, let’s talk while we eat."
They walked to the Great Hall in silence. There weren’t many people there yet, as it wasn’t quite lunchtime. Students would start arriving in about half an hour.
The staff table on the dais was empty. Not all professors preferred to eat in the Great Hall; more often, they had house-elves bring their meals to their offices.
Sherlock and Lupin sat together, with no one around them.
"Snape lectured a lot about werewolves when he was substituting, and the students were complaining that he seemed to have a personal vendetta against them."
As Sherlock spoke, Lupin calmly sipped his pumpkin juice.
"You once told me you did something to Snape. Is he referring to you as his enemy?"
The atmosphere suddenly became tense. After a long silence, Lupin, holding his pumpkin juice, spoke softly.
"I didn’t expect you to ask so directly."
Sherlock shrugged.
"I don’t like beating around the bush. If I have a question, I usually ask it directly if I think it’s appropriate. If not, I wait for the right time."
"You’re right. If you suspect something, it’s best to ask and clear it up", Lupin sighed, nodding in agreement.
"Snape’s hints were correct. There is indeed a werewolf at Hogwarts, and that person is me."
(End of Chapter)
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