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Chapter 3: Wizard's Secret Study
Chapter 3: Wizard's Secret Study
"Seven days! You've been out gallivanting for seven whole days! You disobedient child! After being gone so long, you come home and don't even come to greet me first! Instead, you're just wandering around the house! Disrespectful son! Ungrateful brat!"
The shrill female voice didn't stop, continually hurling insults, but no one emerged from the room behind the door.
Sherlock quickly recovered from his initial shock.
From the tone of the voice, he could guess that the speaker was likely the original owner's mother. However, her attitude toward her son was truly terrible, and the words she used were harsh and insulting.
It was clear that she was extremely angry, yet despite her volatile emotions, she didn't seem to have any intention of leaving the room.
Instead, she continued to berate Sherlock relentlessly.
"Why did I even give birth to you? You bastard! Because of you, your father left me! You jinx! You've been gone for seven days! Get in here and clean me up right now!"
Her harsh words made Sherlock frown.
He wasn't a fool and had already noticed something was off.
The woman shouting, the room behind the door with no handle, and the entire house seemed abnormal.
Seeing the dim light shining from behind the door, Sherlock hesitated for a moment. He decided not to respond to the woman he suspected was the original owner's mother but instead to enter the room and take a look.
This was undoubtedly the original owner's home.
If there was something wrong with the house, it meant the original Sherlock had issues as well.
Now that they were one person, Sherlock needed to understand his own problems if he wanted to live a stable life in this world and inherit the legacy.
He quietly approached the door without a handle. The shouting continued from behind it. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and then pushed the door open, stepping inside.
The room wasn't large, about twenty to thirty square meters, similar to a normal bedroom.
On one side, a row of wooden bookshelves lined the wall, filled with thick, heavy books, indicating that this was a study.
However, the room wasn't lit by a ceiling lamp but by five candles.
What left Sherlock speechless was that these candles weren't placed on any table. Instead, they were supported by candlesticks, defying Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation, floating silently in mid-air!
After entering, he finally saw the woman who had been shouting.
She wasn't a real person but a photograph hanging on the wall directly opposite the door.
The woman in the photograph had disheveled hair and looked both mad and furious. Her eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets as she glared at him, spewing a stream of curses.
"Maggot! Stray dog! What kind of expression is that? You won't even call me 'Mom' when you see me!"
Not a single word she said registered in Sherlock's mind. His materialistic worldview, built over twenty years, was being violently shaken by what he saw.
With a look of disbelief, he walked up to the photograph and touched the framed image, confirming that it was indeed just a regular paper photograph, not an electronic screen playing a pre-recorded video.
If the idea of crossing over could be explained by some undiscovered scientific phenomenon, the floating candles and the animated, vocal paper photograph could only be explained by supernatural events or magic!
Only then did Sherlock realize the gravity of the situation.
The world he had found himself in was far from just a simple late 20th-century Britain. The issues extended beyond the room he was in and himself.
The world he now inhabited was the biggest problem of all!
As Sherlock was lost in thought, a teacup on the desk beneath the photograph suddenly hopped over to the teapot, which then seemed to come to life, flying up and pouring a steaming cup of tea into the teacup.
At the same time, the chair in front of the desk bounced over to his side, as if waiting for him to sit down.
The furniture in this study appeared to have a life of its own, requiring no commands or guidance from Sherlock. They knew exactly how to serve him.
At that moment, a floating candle slowly drifted to the bookshelf, and he finally got a clear view of the titles of the large tomes lining the shelves.
Warding Off Darkness: Advanced Defense Magic, Comprehensive Encyclopedia of Dark Creatures, Maintaining Your Wand, Practical Applications of Transfiguration in Combat, Defeating Evil: Defense Spells, Occluding Your Mind.
Sherlock's gaze swept over the titles of these magic books, finally settling on the title of a book at the top of the shelf.
His pupils contracted sharply!
Because the title of that book was Hogwarts: A History!
Hogwarts!
While terms like "defense magic" and "dark magic" might still be unfamiliar to Sherlock, lacking a strong sense of recognition, the name Hogwarts was something almost anyone with a basic knowledge of foreign films or Western literature would know!
It was the magical story of the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, and his friends defeating the Dark Lord Voldemort. Hogwarts was the setting of the main storyline, the Wizarding school where the protagonist, Harry Potter, spent seven years learning magic!
In his previous life, being an orphan, Sherlock had never read this widely known magical story when he was young. However, in high school, to improve his English, his English teacher lent him the first English edition of Harry Potter to pass the time after class.
Although he didn't specifically buy the subsequent books, after entering university, he roughly followed the plot through various movie reviews and media.
So, he wasn't completely ignorant of the story of this world, but he wasn't overly familiar with the details, only having a general understanding of the plot.
The most critical point was that this outcome was something Sherlock had never expected.
He had thought he had been transported to a regular world, where he would be a wealthy heir, soon to receive a large inheritance and a title, living a financially free and carefree life.
But who could have guessed that he was actually a Wizard!
As Sherlock was still reeling from this shock, another thought suddenly struck him.
The letter he had received at the door, with the H surrounded by a lion, a snake, an eagle, and a badger.
That was the Hogwarts school crest!
Since entering the house, Sherlock had held the letter in his hand the entire time. Only now did he realize where it had come from.
He stared at the home address and his name written in emerald-green ink on the envelope, his throat tightening.
If his memory served him correctly, Hogwarts admitted students who were eleven years old. The birthdate on his driver's license clearly stated he was born in 1971.
This year, 1992, he was exactly twenty-one years old.
So this letter could not possibly be an acceptance letter.
Then what was it?
Without further speculation, to resolve his doubts, Sherlock tore open the envelope and pulled out the single parchment inside.
(End of Chapter)
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