"Harry, I think you need to understand one thing:
Only getting caught counts as breaking the rules. As long as you don't get caught, nothing happened."
Sherlock said with confidence and composure to Harry, who looked surprised across from him.
"However, out of prudence, it's still safer to use the Invisibility Cloak."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Harry couldn't help but admire him greatly.
Sherlock is Sherlock— even his casual words are so reasonable.
However, when Harry saw Sherlock's fully prepared appearance, the adventurous factor in his heart began to stir restlessly.
This reminded him of the situation when he followed Sherlock to the Forbidden Forest last year.
For a moment, he wanted to call out to Sherlock and ask him to take him along as a companion.
But Harry knew in his heart that the danger of the Forbidden Forest and simple night roaming around the campus were ultimately incomparable.
Last time when they were sent to the Forbidden Forest for detention, they still had Hagrid's protection.
Today, Sherlock was going alone.
With his current level of skill, forcing himself to follow Sherlock would only slow him down.
Before leaving, Sherlock deliberately played a piece on his violin.
While dispelling the noise pollution previously brought by the Sorting Hat, he also sent all the roommates except Harry into dreamland.
After doing this, he left alone under Harry's envious gaze.
As Sherlock slowly climbed out through the portrait hole, the Fat Lady silently closed the door behind him.
The corridor was filled with the scent of old magical books, the dim wall lamps flickered unsteadily, and mottled light and shadow cast on the ancient stone walls.
Sherlock walked with light steps in such an environment.
He didn't immediately put on the Invisibility Cloak.
Before going to the Forbidden Forest, he still had one thing to do.
After walking not far in the corridor, he suddenly seemed to hit an invisible barrier and stopped abruptly.
He slightly narrowed those sharp gray eyes like a hawk's, his gaze precisely directed toward the depths of the shadows:
"So, you still don't plan to come out?"
It was a massive stone pillar thick enough for two people to embrace, its surface carved with intricate patterns, forming huge shadows in the dim light.
As Sherlock's words fell, a figure quietly emerged from the shadows of the massive stone pillar.
With a light and graceful figure, it was none other than the Slytherin prefect, sixth-year Gemma Farley.
Her chestnut hair fell like a waterfall over her shoulders, and her Slytherin robes swayed gently with her movements, the dark green silk shimmering mysteriously in the faint light.
"Sherlock, I'm really curious—"
She raised her hand to brush away cobwebs from her shoulder, the black jade earrings swaying lightly at her collarbone, her delicate face full of confusion and curiosity. "How did you discover me?"
Sherlock extended his right hand, his slender fingers pointing lightly at the suit of armor.
"The leg temperature of this knight's armor beside you is two degrees Celsius higher than the other armor nearby.
This indicates that someone has been standing here for a while.
Combined with the silent invitation you extended to me at the end of the opening ceremony, and the height where the temperature increased, it's not difficult to determine that your breath's moisture caused the metal temperature to rise."
As he spoke, he raised his left hand, his fingertips holding a glowing glass fragment. Under the wall lamp's illumination, magical runes on the fragment appeared and disappeared.
"The only place nearby that meets the conditions and could temporarily provide hiding effects happens to be this stone pillar."
Only then did Farley notice the glass fragment at Sherlock's fingertips. She couldn't help but sigh lightly, a trace of annoyance appearing on her face.
"I wanted to play a little joke on you..."
However, when Sherlock's gaze fell on her face again, Farley had already restrained her smile.
She straightened her back slightly, her hands unconsciously clasped in front of her, and said,
"Well, let's get to the point. I specifically asked you to come out because..."
"I refuse."
Sherlock spoke coldly and decisively.
"What did you say?"
Farley's eyes widened, those sea-blue eyes staring straight at Sherlock, full of disbelief.
She hadn't said anything yet - what was he refusing?
"You just want to inquire about Flint's matter, don't you? I must remind you that this is purely a waste of both our time."
Sherlock said coldly, and when mentioning Flint's name, his eyes showed a trace of disdain.
"No, you've misunderstood. I've already given up on asking you to investigate the assault incident."
Farley waved her hand. "It's just that since Flint was ambushed last time, his pet - also a toad - has disappeared without a trace.
I heard that you often help Neville Longbottom find his mischievous toad, so I was wondering if you could also help..."
Before Farley could finish her words, Sherlock rudely interrupted her, frowning impatiently,
"No need! I already made it crystal clear last time - Flint's behavior has long lost him the qualification for my help.
Whether it's investigating cases or finding that unlucky toad, it's all the same."
"Sherlock, although Flint is crude, his crime doesn't warrant this..."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Farley tried to defend Flint, biting her lower lip slightly, her eyes showing a trace of stubbornness.
"The ratio of crime to punishment requires precise calculation. In my view, Flint's malicious foul against Harry on the Quidditch pitch is still insufficient compared to his current suffering.
I have more urgent and meaningful matters to handle. His affairs are not worth mentioning.
So please stop torturing me with your noble opinions!"
Farley seemed not to have expected Sherlock to hold such a grudge. She opened her mouth, wanting to speak but stopping, showing a trace of embarrassment and helplessness on her face,
"Sherlock, you..."
"Marcus Flint should feel fortunate," Sherlock suddenly said coldly.
"What do you mean?" Farley blinked in confusion, her face full of incredulity.
"If Harry had really been hurt that day, Flint wouldn't have expected to leave the Quidditch pitch alive."
Sherlock's voice carried no warmth, his tone so cold it seemed capable of freezing the air.
Farley was stunned by Sherlock's words.
Soon, she realized that he wasn't joking— at this moment, Farley didn't doubt Sherlock's determination at all.
She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling dramatically, her sea-blue eyes meeting Sherlock's gray ones directly.
The two stared at each other like this, as if invisible sparks filled the air.
After a moment, she was the first to look away, saying as if admitting defeat.
"I understand what you mean. It seems Harry's position in your heart is more important than I imagined. This matter... I won't interfere anymore."
As Farley spoke, she slightly lowered her head, a strand of hair falling down to cover half her face.
"The right decision - if you're really troubled by it, then I suggest letting Flint buy another pet."
Sherlock showed a mocking smile under Farley's surprised gaze.
"I believe that for that toad, leaving Flint would be a complete liberation."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Farley couldn't help but laugh out loud. She raised her hand to tuck the hair by her ear,
"Alright, I'll consider your suggestion."
"Then goodbye."
Sherlock turned to leave.
"Please wait a moment."
Seeing Sherlock's eagerness to leave, Farley bit her lower lip and quickly called out to him. "Do you still have the gift I gave you last time?"
"Gift?"
Sherlock stopped and turned around, his brow furrowed tightly, his face full of confusion.
Seeing Sherlock's frowning expression, a trace of disappointment flashed in Farley's eyes.
As time passed, her eyes grew increasingly dim, and the smile on her face gradually began to fade.
"You mean this!"
Just then, Sherlock reached into his robe's pocket, fumbled for a moment, and took out that Galleon.
Under the dim lamplight, the Galleon sparkled with dazzling brilliance.
Farley's eyes immediately brightened, full of surprise, and even her voice became much lighter.
"You carry this Galleon with you?"
"That's right."
Sherlock looked at Gemma Farley, somewhat puzzled.
As a prefect, her persistence in helping Flint could be considered conscientious, but why pay attention to such trivial matters?
He still had time reserved for more important things, yet she kept talking about a small Galleon.
Farley had already shown her potential among the young witches at Hogwarts, but she still couldn't escape women's usual habits, being particularly concerned about such trivial matters. Such behavior was truly difficult for Sherlock to understand.
"Since that's the case, you should go back quickly! Otherwise, being discovered by Filch so late would result in detention!"
Farley said while gently waving her hand, urging Sherlock to leave.
Speaking of this, she suddenly seemed to remember something and laughed lightly, showing a mischievous smile on her face.
"By the way, should I thank you for your trust?
Because you didn't think that I called you out at this time to deduct points from Gryffindor!"
"You're not that kind of person."
Sherlock shook his head, speaking with certainty.
After saying this, he strode away without looking back, his figure quickly disappearing at the end of the corridor.
Gemma Farley stood there, stunned for quite a while.
When she raised her head, the brilliant smile on her face seemed capable of dispelling all the surrounding darkness.
For Sherlock, meeting Gemma Farley could only be considered a small interlude.
If it weren't for the fact that they had established some friendship through correspondence during the summer vacation, he wouldn't have bothered to acknowledge this silent invitation.
Just as he had told Gemma, communicating for the sake of someone like Flint was simply a waste of time.
Sherlock found a secluded spot, put on the Invisibility Cloak, and quickly left Hogwarts Castle.
The process of secret infiltration went more smoothly than he had imagined.
It must be said that the Invisibility Cloak was indeed a very practical tool.
Sherlock was already skilled at stealth, and now with the Invisibility Cloak, it was like adding wings to a tiger.
Another reason was that the caretaker and prefects responsible for patrolling hadn't expected any students to stay out all night on just the first day of school.
Even Gemma Farley, who had just met with Sherlock, thought that Sherlock had returned to his dormitory after parting with her.
So, Sherlock reached the Forbidden Forest with almost no effort.
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