Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts

Wood heard that Harry had never played Quidditch before, so he opened the box to show him the game balls.

"Let me explain the rules to you first..."

"No need to bother."

Sherlock interrupted Wood, "Just find two flying brooms."

Wood looked at McGonagall, and when he saw her nod, he found two flying brooms.

Sherlock handed one of them to Harry, then jumped on the other and flew directly into the air, signaling Harry to follow.

Wood's eyes lit up instantly.

As the saying goes, a master reveals himself with a single move.

As the team captain, just the take-off action was enough for him to see a lot.

Obviously, these two young wizards were both talented in flying.

In mid-air, Harry, keeping pace with Sherlock, asked nervously, "Sherlock, what do we do next?"

Sherlock took something directly from his pocket and waved it in front of Harry.

"Look!"

It was a ball-shaped object, shining brightly in the sunlight.

"Neville's Remembrall? How is it with you?"

Harry recognized it at a glance.

"I swiped it from him before going to Professor McGonagall."

Harry looked shocked: "Weren't we together? When did you..."

"Harry, that's not important," Sherlock interrupted Harry, "Your task now is to prevent it from falling to the ground."

"Huh?"

Harry couldn't understand. Wasn't the Remembrall in Sherlock's hand? Why would it fall to the ground?

Sherlock didn't explain, but just smiled slightly:

"Dear Harry, you wouldn't want Neville to be sad because the Remembrall was broken, would you?"

Harry: w(ﾟДﾟ)w

As soon as Sherlock said this, Harry had an ominous premonition.

The next moment.

"Go!"

Sherlock threw the Neville's Remembrall directly out.

He didn't give Harry any time to prepare—or rather, that sentence was already a reminder for Harry to be prepared.

Harry didn't expect Sherlock to do this at all.

Fortunately, his body reacted faster than his brain.

Almost without thinking, he pointed the flying broom downwards, accelerating and diving towards the ground.

With the double blessing of gravitational acceleration and magic, his speed became faster and faster, and he was about to crash heavily on the ground.

At this time, Harry could even hear Ron's screams mixed in with the whistling wind, but he was not nervous at all.

Not only was he not nervous, but he was also unusually calm, even a little excited.

Finally, he caught the glass ball one foot above the ground.

He straightened the broom in time, letting it fall gently on the grass, his palm firmly gripping the Remembrall.

At this time, he also found that Sherlock had returned to the ground at some point, and was about to speak when a roar came from behind.

"Potter!"

McGonagall strode over, the wand in her hand had not had time to put away, and the palm of her right hand holding the wand was full of sweat.

Just a little bit more, and she would have had to use magic to save him.

"In all my years at Hogwarts... I have never..."

Familiar words made Sherlock raise his eyebrows.

"How dare you... You'll break your neck!"

"..."

Harry was speechless, he really didn't know what to say at this time.

It always felt like anything he said would be wrong.

Fortunately, there was Sherlock.

"Professor, I think this performance is enough to prove Harry's talent."

The calm voice formed a sharp contrast with McGonagall.

"Sherlock Holmes!"

Sherlock's words immediately drew the fire away from Harry, which made the latter secretly breathe a sigh of relief, and his gratitude to Sherlock rose again.

"Letting a classmate do that kind of thing, you are simply audacious! If something happens to Potter, you will be fully responsible!"

"He will be fine. I believe in him, and I believe in the professor even more."

"You..."

McGonagall was choked and couldn't speak.

"Genius, a true genius!"

At this moment, Wood opened his mouth at the right time, interrupting McGonagall, who was brewing emotions.

"Diving fifty feet, steadily catching that thing, and without even a scratch! Even Charlie Weasley can't do that!"

He almost jumped to Harry's side in one stride.

He firmly grasped the hand that Harry was holding the Remembrall, the fascination and fanaticism in his eyes made the corners of McGonagall's mouth twitch.

"Professor, listen to me, you must get him a decent broom! I think, get him a Nimbus 2000 or a Comet Two Sixty—no, it must be a Nimbus 2000..."

His appearance had to make McGonagall stop getting angry at Sherlock.

"Wood, Potter is just a first-year..."

"That's not a problem!"

Wood waved his hand domineeringly and said:

"Professor, you must go to Professor Dumbledore and let us use a first-year student as an exception!

If you don't go, I'll go myself!

You know, we need a Quidditch team that's even better than last year's!

Harry, I welcome you to the Gryffindor team on behalf of the team.

I am now formally notifying you as the captain that training will begin next week!"

McGonagall: (⊙﹏⊙)

Looking at Wood talking to himself, McGonagall suddenly felt a little redundant.

Oliver Wood is indeed a good student with excellent character and academics.

But as long as Quidditch is mentioned, he seems to have become a different person.

However, she had to admit that Wood was indeed right.

Harry Potter, he really is a genius.

"Potter."

Harry quickly turned to McGonagall, making a gesture of listening attentively.

"I hope to hear that you are training hard, otherwise I will change my mind and punish you."

At this moment, Harry could hardly believe what he heard.

He was actually promoted as an exception?!

"Be sure to keep it a secret, after all, this is the smallest team player in a century, and you will be our secret weapon at that time!"

Judging from the expression on Wood's face alone, it was as if he had already won the House Cup.

"Hopefully."

Sherlock was noncommittal about this.

He didn't hold out hope that this matter could be kept secret.

"As for you, Mr. Holmes."

Professor McGonagall turned to Sherlock, "Harry's performance didn't make you lose points, and it also spared you the punishment of being confined, but that doesn't prove that your reckless behavior is correct!"

Sherlock sighed, he had already guessed what the other party was going to say next.

Sure enough, Professor McGonagall took the opportunity to make a request:

"So I don't want to hear anyone tell me that you are absent from Professor Quirrell's Defense Against the Dark Arts class again!"

"Okay, Professor."

Sherlock agreed simply and neatly, which surprised and disappointed McGonagall.

She originally thought that this maverick little guy would resist.