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Chapter 50: Neville's Unusual Behavior
Chapter 50: Neville's Unusual Behavior
"Mr. Longbottom? Is there something you need at this hour?"
Sherlock looked at the boy who had just entered, asking softly.
The sky outside had already grown dark, and although curfew had not yet begun, it was clearly not long before Filch would start catching students.
Neville still seemed to be recovering from his cold. His face was unusually pale, and he looked generally unwell.
"Pro-professor..."
He stammered.
"Could I, could I ask you about a spell?"
Hearing his words, Sherlock's brow furrowed slightly. He sensed that Neville's mental state was as troubled as his physical one.
"Of course, but what spell are you eager to ask about?"
"It's the Flame Spell. I can never get it right when I try to use it. I feel like my wand movement is off, but I can't seem to find the feeling described in the books."
Neville's voice was barely above a whisper, but his description of the problem was clear, indicating he had studied the Flame Spell carefully.
Sherlock did not answer his question directly but instead asked calmly,
"The Flame Spell isn't one that second years are required to learn, is it?"
Neville tried to appear calm, but his amateur acting gave away his evasive gaze.
"It's just that the weather is getting colder, and the fireplace in the common room keeps going out. I thought if I learned the Flame Spell, we wouldn't have to ask the older students for help when it happens again."
His explanation seemed reasonable on the surface, but it was clearly a weak excuse.
Even if Sherlock hadn't noticed Neville's earlier unusual behavior, he could tell now that this wasn't the truth.
In Gryffindor, Neville was something of an anomaly. Among the young lions, he was always the most timid and never one to seek the spotlight.
So, the story he had just told was far from something his character would normally do.
"Is that the truth, Mr. Longbottom?" Sherlock stared into Neville's eyes, not letting him avert his gaze.
Hearing the question, Neville seemed to steel himself, enduring some unseen pressure, and finally said,
"Yes, Professor. I just have an interest in the Flame Spell and want to light the fireplace."
Sherlock held his gaze, and this time, Neville did not look away, his weak demeanor tinged with a hint of unyielding determination.
After a long silence, Sherlock finally shook his head gently.
"Alright, show me your normal attempt at the Flame Spell."
Neville looked at Sherlock gratefully and, in his presence, performed the wand movement he had been practicing, hoping for feedback on his technique.
"That flick shouldn't be too high, and your hand must remain steady, with no trembling. This way, the Flame Spell will be stable, and you won't risk the flames spreading and burning yourself."
Sherlock, having studied these common spells extensively, was certainly an expert. He easily pointed out the flaws in Neville's wand movement and corrected his pronunciation.
Neville looked a bit clumsy, but he was incredibly attentive, more so than ever before.
With Sherlock's guidance, he finally managed to master the Flame Spell just before curfew began.
Neville, looking somewhat awkward, bowed to Sherlock as a token of gratitude as flames spurted from the tip of his wand.
"Thank you, Professor Forrest. I really appreciate it."
Sherlock just looked at him, his gaze full of meaning.
"If there's anything you feel you can't handle on your own, you can come to me, Neville. You're only twelve years old, and I'm your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. There are things you might not be able to face, but I can help."
Neville heard his words and pressed his lips together, as if he was struggling with something. But he still insisted, "I don't have any problems I can't handle, Professor. If I do, I'll definitely come to you for help."
Neville left Sherlock's office.
Watching the door close carefully, Sherlock didn't resume organizing his clues. Neville's unusual state had clearly aroused his suspicion.
He began to recall the start of the school year at Hogwarts, when he first met Neville in the castle corridor. The crescent mark on his arm had sent a sharp, clear burning sensation.
Although that feeling had only lasted a moment, the mark had only reacted three times, and each time he remembered it clearly.
Neville was definitely hiding something.
He was determined not to speak, and Sherlock couldn't force him.
The magic to read minds—Legilimency—was not something easily learned. At least, Sherlock hadn't mastered it yet.
But that didn't mean he was going to give up on investigating Neville. If his abnormalities were related to the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, there had to be some clue in his actions at Hogwarts.
Sherlock took out the Marauder's Map he had confiscated from the Weasley twins and marked the small black dot representing Neville as a key target. In the coming days, he would keep a close eye on Neville's movements.
He had promised George and Fred that he would return the Marauder's Map at Christmas, but that would have to be delayed a bit. Now, he not only needed to use the map to monitor Neville but also figure out how to remove his own mark from it.
After all, even if he was going to return the map to the twins, he couldn't let them use it to monitor him.
Once he had taken care of these two matters, he would keep his promise and return the Marauder's Map.
Back in the dormitory, Neville still looked as listless as usual.
Harry and Ron had gone to bed early, which was rare. Seamus was still working on his Potions homework and looked up curiously when Neville entered.
"Where were you, Neville? We didn't see you in the common room earlier."
"I went to the library to return some books", Neville replied, his voice weak but not giving anything away to Seamus.
As the night deepened, it was past midnight, and everyone else had fallen into a deep sleep. In the four-poster bed with its curtains drawn, a figure suddenly sat up.
He fumbled under his bed and pulled out something, then carefully walked out of the dormitory and into the dark, empty common room.
Feeling his way in the dark, the figure approached the fireplace and threw the object into it, then waved his wand.
"Incendio!"
The flames suddenly roared to life, filling the fireplace. The orange and yellow firelight danced in the dark common room, casting a glow on Neville's pale face.
(End of Chapter)
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