Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

Sherlock was eating breakfast when Harry knocked on the door, holding a sandwich in one hand and the Daily Prophet in the other, discussing the news with Silk.

"This year's Quidditch World Cup final is in England, Ireland vs Bulgaria. I know you don't have any interest in Quidditch, and I'm not that keen either, but it's always good to go out and see."

"I've already bought two tickets, well, I didn't actually buy them, Kingsley sent me his two tickets and Moody's. Their job will become more after the Worlds. Busy, no time to see..."

When he remembered the knock on the door, Sherlock already knew who it was by controlling magic.

He snapped his fingers casually, and the living room door opened by himself.

Harry ran in through the door panting, bending over, propping his knees with his hands, and speaking as soon as he entered the door.

"I, I'm a professor who sneaked out. I don't know if it's important, but my mother thinks it's important and wants me to tell you..."

Just when he said this out of breath, he suddenly discovered the stunning but extremely unfamiliar girl sitting at the dining table.

Harry opened his mouth wide and looked at Silk, who was sipping milk from a glass, and then turned to look at Sherlock, who still hadn't taken his eyes off the Daily Prophet.

"Professor Jiaojiao, is it time for me to come?"

Sherlock only looked away from the newspaper at this time, and flicked his finger lightly. Even though he and Harry had not been in direct contact with him, Harry could still feel his forehead suddenly being flicked by something. .

"What's wrong, Ai... Vera, you should have seen it last semester, she appeared in the castle many times with that big hat, she is temporarily staying at my house, um... ....my niece? Sister? Or..."

Regarding the title, Sherlock seemed to have no way of calling the shots alone. He turned to look at Shilk and tried a few titles.

Hilke said solemnly with a stern face.

"I'm one year older than you, and we're not related by blood. You and my father, you and I are all separate, and now we're friends."

Sherlock coughed twice.

"Okay, friends."

Harry looked at the pretty girl who was blindfolded with black ribbons, and after Sherlock's reminder, he quickly remembered where he had seen her.

At the beginning of last semester, she wore a hood that covered most of her face and went to the auditorium to find Sherlock. Not only him, but also many students saw it.

"You can call her Sister Silk, this is my student Harry Potter, you should have heard of his name." Sherlock introduced the two to each other.

Harry bowed his head respectfully.

"Sister Silk, hello."

After hearing Harry Potter's name, Shilk didn't show many surprised or strange expressions on his face, just nodded gently in response.

"Hello."

Sherlock pulled out a chair for Harry and motioned him to sit down.

"Sit down and talk about anything else. If you have breakfast with us, I just happened to make some more."

"Where's Aunt Petunia..."

"It's okay, if you're worried, I'll take you back later and say that I brought you out."

Hearing Sherlock say this, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, sat down at the dining table, and Shilk got up and brought him a breakfast.

"I was sitting in a dream, dreaming of Voldemort!" Harry said straight to the point after drinking half a glass of milk in one breath.

Sherlock ate the sandwich for a moment, then quickly returned to normal.

"and then?"

"I saw him in a big shabby house with Peter kneeling beside him and they seemed to be discussing some secret plan. Peter was scared but Voldemort insisted."

"Do you remember what they said between them?" Sherlock didn't take this as a matter of a moment, but asked with a serious face.

Harry frowned for a moment, then shook his head in frustration.

"I don't remember. I forgot what they said as soon as I woke up."

"But when I woke up, the scar on my forehead was so painful, it was like someone had set fire to it. I had this feeling when I was in second grade, when I was supposed to encounter a basilisk. Before each attack, My forehead hurts a bit."

Sherlock put down the sandwich in his hand solemnly, motioned Harry to come closer, and carefully studied the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

"The scar is hot and you can think of it as a protection mechanism. Whenever that protection magic senses that you may be in danger, it will use this method to warn you. But to dream about Voldemort, It's really not normal."

Sherlock looked at Harry and speculated.

"Did you deliberately think about Voldemort during the day?"

Harry could hear what Sherlock was guessing, and he shook his head.

"No, Aunt Petunia asked me to trim the garden yesterday. I was exhausted at night. After talking to my mother for a while, I fell asleep in bed."

Sherlock felt something was wrong, but he couldn't say why. He touched his chin and looked at Shilk.

"What do you think?"

Silk stared at Harry silently for a while with her eyes blindfolded by black ribbons, and only when he saw him fidgeting and his face flushed, she spoke softly.

"Bad luck and good luck, intertwined, intertwined and mixed with each other, but the bad luck is stronger, and you have to be careful for the next year."

Harry's mouth widened, and he was speechless for a long time as he listened to Shilk say this paragraph that looked like a prophecy but didn't look like a prophecy.

Until Sherlock flicked his forehead, he covered his forehead and regained his senses.

"Did you hear, not only for the next year, but every day in the future, you better be careful, do less rash things, and think before you do things that it's worth taking risks. If you have an accident, it will not only represent yourself. Yes, and your mother."

Harry's face was heavy.

Sherlock's words, he obviously listened. He is not just himself now. Lily is still in the protection magic of him. If something happens, it is not only himself but also dangerous. Professor Forrest is risking that. What a risk, it took a lot of effort to let my mother have a little soul to survive, and then there will be an accident with him.

After breakfast at Sherlock's place, Sherlock took Harry back to the Dursleys himself.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't look very good, but at least they didn't say anything to him.

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