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Chapter 8: The Only Option
Chapter 8: The Only Option
After scaring away his annoying cousin, Harry stared blankly at the hedges in the yard, feeling bored.
He was a second-year student at Hogwarts, but he had to spend the summer living with Aunt Petunia, who detested magic and wizards.
Honestly, when he received the Hogwarts admission letter from Hagrid last year, he was overjoyed, thinking he would finally escape his miserable life.
But he never expected that once the school year ended, he would have to return to this so-called "home" where he felt no warmth at all.
Today was Harry's birthday, yet he hadn't received a single birthday card.
During his year at Hogwarts, he had definitely made friends.
But throughout the entire summer, Ron and Hermione seemed to have completely forgotten about him, not sending a single letter.
This made him incredibly disheartened.
Aunt Petunia, having just heard Dudley's frantic report, was shouting in the living room, ordering Harry to trim the roses in the yard, clean the windows, wash the car, and tend to the garden.
Under the scorching sun, Harry listlessly took up his tools and began working in the garden, while his fat, pig-like cousin Dudley gleefully ate ice cream and watched Harry clean the windows, strolling around.
Harry didn't feel particularly sad, though there was a hint of it.
But he had long been accustomed to such unfair treatment. It was uncomfortable, but not enough to make him truly miserable.
The blazing sun burned the back of Harry's neck.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and suddenly noticed a young man jogging down the street outside the yard.
As he lifted his head, their gazes met.
To be honest, the man's face was very handsome, ranking among the top three of all the people Harry had seen, but his expression was cold and stern, making him seem like someone who rarely smiled.
Their eyes met briefly, as if two ordinary strangers had accidentally glanced at each other.
Harry muttered to himself, wondering who had the leisure to go jogging in such weather, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
His attention was then drawn to a pair of large eyes peering from behind the hedges.
This was Sherlock's first time jogging along the planned route, and he happened to encounter Harry Potter.
He didn't dare approach the protagonist of this world, unsure if Dumbledore or the Ministry of Magic had someone keeping watch nearby.
The reason he wanted to see Harry Potter was that after Professor Mcgonagall left, he realized that his own residence was only two streets away from 4 Privet Drive, where Harry Potter lived in the original story.
Harry Potter looked just as he remembered.
Wearing large, round glasses, with messy black hair and bright green eyes, he was thin and appeared somewhat malnourished.
It was clear he wasn't having an easy time.
But whether Harry Potter was doing well or not wasn't Sherlock's concern.
He had come to see Harry just to satisfy his curiosity, as he had his own set of troubles to deal with.
Back at home, Sherlock first took a shower, then dried his wet hair with a towel and went to the wizard's study.
As soon as he entered, the portrait on the wall began to shout and curse.
"How about you just die! You disgusting mongrel! Die outside! Disappear from my sight!"
Sherlock had already come up with a good way to deal with the noisy painting. He covered the portrait with a curtain, and the woman who had been cursing him would soon be silenced.
From the tone of the painting, this woman seemed to be the mother of the body Sherlock now inhabited.
However, he couldn't imagine what kind of mother would use such venomous language to curse her own son.
The original owner's family situation appeared very peculiar from what Sherlock could gather.
The father was a top-tier wealthy individual with a title and social status in the Muggle world, while his mother behaved like a madwoman, only causing a ruckus.
According to the magical world, Sherlock's bloodline should be classified as half-blood, with his mother being a witch and his father a Muggle.
On the day the old butler handed him the will, he mentioned, "promising not to associate with those people" in the future. "Those people" most likely referred to witches and wizards.
This suggested that Sherlock's father had a strong aversion to the wizarding community.
To be honest, if all the wizards Sherlock encountered were like the original owner's mother, he wouldn't have any fondness for them either.
But if that were the case, how did the original owner's parents manage to have a child?
The issue was complex, and the information available was limited. Sherlock found it difficult to understand these matters and didn't have the time to figure them out.
After Professor Mcgonagall delivered the Defense Against the Dark Arts appointment letter to him, the idea of inheriting his adoptive father's estate was out of the question.
Even if he managed to get the money, he wouldn't have the chance to spend it.
The most pressing problem now was how to handle the teaching position at Hogwarts.
On the night Professor Mcgonagall left, Sherlock considered many excuses to avoid accepting the position.
For example, he could be harsh on himself and deliberately break his leg.
However, while breaking a bone in the normal Muggle world would require a long recovery, in the magical world, it wasn't a big deal. Even if someone was dismembered, reattaching the parts wasn't difficult.
So, with Sherlock's current abilities, using self-harm to avoid the job was clearly unrealistic.
He also thought about running away and staging a disappearance, a desperate and reckless move.
But Sherlock realized he couldn't even escape the tracking of owls, let alone wizards. Running away would only lead to his capture.
After thinking it through that night, Sherlock understood that he couldn't avoid the professorship no matter what.
He knew he only had one viable option left.
To go to Hogwarts and teach honestly.
Once he accepted this, he became more at ease.
After all, in his previous life, he should have drowned when he fell into the river.
Being reborn into this world was like gaining an extra life for free.
Living a vibrant life would be a bonus, and even if he died due to some unforeseen event, it wouldn't be a loss.
Besides, being a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor wasn't a death sentence. There were still many chances to survive if he thought about it carefully.
With this realization, Sherlock picked up the appointment letter again and gave a mockingly dismissive laugh.
"Hmph, just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."
(End of Chapter)
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