[Comprehensive] Sherlock's Secret

"Okay young people," Dumbledore clapped his hands and said, "How about an old man like me?"

The three looked at him at the same time.

"Sherlock, I want you to help me look at some information about the Dresden Stone Tablet," Dumbledore said, "There are some things that we need to continue to deliberate."

Sherlock nodded.

"As for Severus," Dumbledore looked at Su Fu, "I think Su should have something to tell you, do you agree with this arrangement?"

Severus was noncommittal, but Su Fu agreed.

"Then I'll see you at noon." Dumbledore waved to Sherlock, walked away with him, and vaguely heard him say, "You can go and look around the school in the afternoon..."

The gloomy look on Severus's face was still as if it was coming late, and when Sherlock and Dumbledore were gone, he couldn't even see their backs, and he asked, "What do they have to discuss?"

"Slate," Su Fu turned and walked in the opposite direction, "Don't tell me you haven't heard of it."

"Then why don't you follow?"

"Because." Su Fu turned his head and waved to him who was still standing there, "Only the two of them understand Old German."

Severus snorted coldly and followed.

"You really didn't wear protective gloves when you went to the greenhouse to look at the mandrakes today?"

"I didn't go to the greenhouse!" The tone was very annoyed, "I've already explained—"

"But you do have wounds on your fingers, and they are indeed corroded by the mandrake's saliva."

"I'm studying the difference between immature mandrake beard and cherrylar root in fusion potion recipe!"

"So Sherlock was right, you still touched an immature Mandrake."

"..."

==

Dumbledore and Sherlock went up to the eighth floor.

In front of his office, a stone beast squatted halfway and asked, "Password?"

"Grapefruit mint crumbs." Dumbledore said, the stone beast jumped away nimbly, and the wall behind it was cracked, revealing the spiral stone staircase inside.

"There is nothing worth studying on the stone slab itself." Sherlock followed him to the stone ladder, which slowly ascended like an elevator. "What else do you want from me?"

The stone stairs stopped, and Dumbledore pushed open the door: "Don't be so nervous, I just want to show you something interesting."

"what?"

"You'll know when the time comes," Dumbledore waved, and a high-backed chair jumped over to the table. "Please sit down."

Sherlock sat down as promised, raising his eyebrows.

With his back turned to him, Dumbledore was standing in front of a chest filled with all sorts of strange things Sherlock had never seen before.

"In the past days, I have experienced many beautiful, sad, or complicated things, and they are all preserved in my mind without exception. But because I am old, I often need to sort them out, like After sorting the books, I put them into the shelves so that my thinking can be kept clear, and the logic is rigorous from one end to the next... Ah, I found it."

He turned to look at Sherlock. "I'm sure you would do the same, but our approach would be very different."

Sherlock noticed that there was an extra glass bottle in his hand, which contained something like a silver mist.

"How do you do it?" Sherlock asked.

"I use a Pensieve," said Dumbledore, waving his wand, and something flew out of the cupboard and landed lightly in the middle of the table in front of them.

It was a shallow black stone basin with incomprehensible inscriptions engraved on the edge.

Dumbledore poked the glass bottle stopper with his wand, the stopper jumped of its own accord, and he emptied the contents into the stone basin.

When it flows, it looks like a thin silver stream, but when it gathers at the bottom of the basin, it becomes a ball of light, flowing light.

"what is this?"

Dumbledore stood in front of the stone basin, his face was illuminated by the silver light and was slightly mysteriously transparent. He said, "Memory."

He picked up the stone basin and shook it like sifting beans, a scene gradually emerged on the stone basin, Roman-style buildings, the crisp bells of carriages on the street, and whispered voices of people talking.

Sherlock couldn't help but asked, "Projection?"

"It's the scene in my memory," Dumbledore explained patiently, "I took the memory out of my mind and stored it temporarily, so as not to annihilate them with the passage of time and my growing age. This is a good way— —Now, let's go back in time and go to see the time many years ago."

"I can see your memory?" Sherlock pointed to himself, surprised.

"You have my permission, Mr. Holmes," said Dumbledore, grabbing his arm and stretching it forward.

After spinning around for a while, they landed on the street in the scene just now.

Sherlock immediately recognized that this was London, but...whether it was a newsboy selling newspapers, a gentleman with a mustache walking with a cane, or a carriage passing by, it was enough to show that this was not London. The London of his time.

"That's me." Beside him, Dumbledore pointed to a tall, thin young man walking happily in the distance.

The young Albus Dumbledore was about 30 years old, with a reddish-brown beard and hair, wearing a well-made suit, he walked around the garbage dump at the corner of the street, and walked into the dark and narrow alley.

Dumbledore beckoned to Sherlock and trotted after him.

They also stood in the alley, where five or six little beggars gathered.

Sherlock felt that this scene seemed familiar, but at this time his attention was more on himself. He reached out to touch the head of a child who was closer to him, but his fingers passed across his forehead, as if he himself was a child. Projected shadows.

"People in memory can't see us," Dumbledore briefly explained, and pointed to the young self in front of him, "Pay attention, you won't want to miss some interesting details."

The young Dumbledore frowned looking at the hungry and cold children, but still planned to complete his task for today.

He asked loudly, "Which one of you is Miss Sue Leichter?"

Sherlock's pupils froze for a moment, and he seemed a little stunned.

The young Dumbledore's voice was thick and energetic, and the chattering children fell silent for a moment, but after a while, a thin, dirty-faced, gender-neutral child walked slowly around the corner , if Sherlock read correctly, she was still holding a piece of green glass in her hand behind her back.

"Me." She said hoarsely.

"She was wandering the streets of London at that time," Dumbledore sighed slightly, "it must have been difficult for an 11-year-old child, she didn't even look ten years old..."

Sherlock gave a absent-minded "hmm", watched the 11-year-old Su Fu negotiate with the young Dumbledore, then followed him to the entrance of the alley hesitantly and vigilantly, and they apparated in the next second.

The scene shifts to Charing Cross Road.

"The Broken Ax Bar also exists in this world, and it has hardly changed." Dumbledore said.

Sherlock has been to this place several times, so he is not familiar with it, but according to his extraordinary memory, he will definitely remember all the places he has been to clearly, and now they are standing in front of a dilapidated small bar, Sherlock can guarantee that , he had never seen this bar on this street before.

They followed Su Fu and Dumbledore and walked in. The young Dumbledore asked the fat maid in the bar to settle down with Su Fu. He first went back to the alley just now to buy food for the group of homeless children, and then returned to the bar. Sit at the bar and chat with the bar owner.

About an hour later, the young Dumbledore knocked on the door with a dinner plate on it. The door opened a crack, and a little girl in a purple wizard robe who was just up to his waist was staring at him through the crack.

Her hair was still dripping with water, her face was weak and pale, her whole face was no more than the size of a palm, she had a small and exquisite nose and a lip covered with a blood scab, but her eyebrows were naturally neat and delicate, with the ends of her eyebrows raised, and her black and flowing eyes Under the eyelashes, there are extremely dark eyes.

The young Dumbledore smiled happily, and he said wittily, "Miss, your lunch."

The girl backed up a few steps to let him pass, and closed the door again after he entered.

She was standing by the coffee table, opposite where Sherlock was.

Dumbledore dried her hair with magic, and changed her into a cute hairstyle. She finally showed a happy smile on her always calm face, and ran to the mirror to see herself.

Sherlock went over and slowly squatted in front of her.

The little girl admired her new hairstyle from a different angle, and the young man who visited the old memory reached out to stroke her hair, but his slender fingers passed through the girl's flying hair, which could not shock the ripples of time.

The afternoon sun shone through the glass window, making Sherlock's fingers almost transparent, but his eyes clearly reflected the happy smile of 11-year-old Su Fu. After a while, he whispered: "Obviously... Miss Leichter."