"After the incident with Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts position became vacant again this year, so Dumbledore approached him.
Although he had indeed achieved considerable success, all of us, including myself, remembered his performance during his student years, so we were all puzzled by Dumbledore's decision.
At the time, I thought it was because they simply couldn't find anyone else for this course.
But now it seems that perhaps I really misjudged him back then.
I think your assessment is correct. Although he craves fame, seeks vanity, and even had impure motives for coming to Hogwarts as a professor, he can still be considered a qualified Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
With that, Professor Flitwick finished expressing his views on Lockhart.
Just as Sherlock had expected, as the Head of Ravenclaw, his understanding went far deeper than others'.
Sherlock clasped his hands together, supporting his chin, and fell into silence.
"Sherlock, as long as he can teach students real skills, don't go probing into his secrets, will you? After all, everyone has their own secrets, don't they?"
When saying this, Professor Flitwick seemed to think of something, and a faint melancholy appeared in his eyes.
Sherlock didn't notice this detail.
After a moment, he lowered his hands and stood up.
"Leaving already?"
Seeing his movement, Professor Flitwick seemed somewhat surprised.
"Yes, Professor. Your description was very clear and extremely helpful. Thank you."
Watching Sherlock politely thank him before leaving, Professor Flitwick was first taken aback, then burst into laughter.
"This little fellow, really—"
He shook his head and buried himself back in the mountain of parchment assignments.
Leaving Professor Flitwick's office, Sherlock carefully organized the information the professor had provided.
Magical talent above average, strong desire for recognition, heavy profit motive, good grades during school but often controversial.
After graduation, he traveled the world, suddenly enlightened, and finally staged a triumphant return.
"No wonder he was almost sorted into Slytherin."
A slight smile appeared at the corner of Sherlock's mouth.
This aspect of Lockhart's character really did align perfectly with Slytherin.
Now even Professor Flitwick admitted he had misjudged him, and advised Sherlock not to continue digging into Lockhart's secrets.
Sherlock had no objection to this.
Such matters should be judged by actions, not intentions. As long as he could teach everyone real skills, even impure motives weren't much of a problem.
As for the contradictory feeling he had sensed about Lockhart, after Professor Flitwick's description, there was now a reasonable explanation.
It was nothing more than the struggle between ideals and reality.
However, even after learning everything about Lockhart from Professor Flitwick, there were still suspicious points about him.
The biggest question was that as a professor, Lockhart's mastery of magic actually showed variation.
Only he had noticed that compared to the first lesson, the current Lockhart's spell proficiency had increased considerably.
By today, almost everyone believed that Lockhart had deliberately held back during the first lesson.
But Sherlock saw clearly.
When the pixies first broke free, the panic on Lockhart's face wasn't feigned.
More importantly, he consistently resisted using those truly effective spells.
Instead, he was more fond of his self-created "Peskipiksi" spell, even though those spells had no effect.
In every Defense Against the Dark Arts class, when Lockhart used those practical spells, there was a sense of disgust and resistance.
Only after successfully casting the spells would this feeling diminish or disappear.
However, everyone's attention was focused on the effects of these spells, and no one noticed this detail.
Sherlock walked while thinking, and when he came to his senses, he found he had somehow already left Hogwarts castle.
Not only had he left the castle, he had even reached the school gates.
More remarkably, despite walking all this way, he hadn't been discovered by anyone else.
Sherlock immediately realized that even while walking in a distracted state, he had instinctively employed stealth techniques, successfully avoiding most people's sight.
This had become his instinct.
But since he had already reached the school gates, Sherlock simply walked out.
This was exactly where they had arrived by carriage at the beginning of term.
He remembered that at the time, only he could see the creatures pulling the carriages.
While pondering this, he suddenly noticed there was still a carriage parked at the gate.
Hitched between the carriage and the shafts was still that magical creature that others couldn't see.
Besides that, there was also a person standing there.
A somewhat peculiar-looking girl.
From Sherlock's angle, he could only see the girl's back.
She had dark golden-brown hair and wore radish-shaped earrings.
With his observation skills far exceeding ordinary people's, Sherlock also noticed she wore a strangely shaped necklace and had her wand tucked behind her left ear.
Even just from her back, she exuded a sense of peculiarity.
However, for Sherlock, this wasn't the main point.
The main point was that the girl was currently extending her hand, gently stroking the spine of that magical creature.
Undoubtedly, like himself, she could also see this creature that others couldn't.
By now, Sherlock had already found information about this magical creature.
Thestrals.
Origin unknown, but they still existed in Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest.
These creatures were essentially a type of winged horse—dragon-like head, horse-like body, with a pair of black, bat-like wings.
Their eyes were silvery-white without pupils, and their huge black horse bodies had no flesh, with skin tight against bone.
On the opening day, due to the heavy rain and eagerness to attend the opening ceremony, Sherlock hadn't been able to observe carefully.
Looking again today, he noticed that every bone was clearly visible, dragging a black long tail, with wings growing from the raised places between bones.
"You can see them too, can't you?"
Just then, the girl suddenly spoke.
This was the second time this girl had surprised Sherlock.
He was very confident in his stealth abilities.
The fact that he hadn't been discovered all this way had fully demonstrated this point.
He hadn't expected that after standing here for less than a minute, he would be detected by this girl.
Moreover, the girl still hadn't turned around.
That meant she had discovered someone approaching while facing away from him.
Combined with her special constitution of also being able to see thestrals, Sherlock immediately became interested in her.
Before Sherlock could answer, the girl had already turned around.
Besides the dark golden-brown hair he had seen from behind, this girl had pale skin and very light eyebrows.
A pair of silver eyes protruded slightly outward. Although looking at him, they gave the impression of being large but vacant.
Besides those radish-shaped earrings, Sherlock could now also see the appearance of the necklace around her neck—it was actually made of butterbeer corks.
After seeing her appearance clearly, Sherlock's eyes immediately lit up.
Because he had found corresponding information in his memory palace.
This girl—he had seen her before.
At the same time, the girl's vacant eyes seemed to have just clearly seen Sherlock's appearance.
"You're Sherlock Holmes. I know you."
Although the other party had called out his name directly, Sherlock wasn't surprised. Instead, he said calmly.
"I know you too. First-year student, sorted into Ravenclaw House. Born into a wizarding family, mother died early, raised by father, only child, likes reading, name—"
Sherlock tilted his head and thought, then said simply, "Forgotten."
Hearing Sherlock's words, the girl's eyes protruded even more, looking extremely surprised.
"You don't even know my name, so how do you know all this?"
Then, without waiting for Sherlock's answer, the girl laughed and said in a singing voice.
"How silly of me! You're Sherlock Holmes—knowing these things is perfectly normal!"
Well said indeed.
Sherlock found that this girl clearly had a crazy, eccentric air about her.
"So, your name is?"
"Luna Lovegood."
She stared at Sherlock with her eyes, "You can call me Luna. May I call you Sherlock?"
Faced with this somewhat presumptuous request, Sherlock said calmly. "As you wish."
"I've always felt that exceptional intelligence is humanity's greatest treasure. Don't you think so, Sherlock?"
"Intelligence is indeed a valuable treasure, but it's not humanity's only treasure. Courage, kindness, loyalty—these qualities are equally important. Often, they can determine a person's worth more than intelligence."
Luna tilted her head, listening seriously to Sherlock's answer.
Though it was their first meeting, the conversation between them flowed as smoothly as old friends.
At the same time, neither Sherlock nor Luna found this surprising—they both felt it was perfectly natural.
Their rapid dialogue continued.
"You know me, understand me, because you've heard about me from others. Was it Penelope, Cho Chang, or Patil?"
"It was Prefect Penelope, um, and also Ginny—Ginny Weasley."
"Ha, that's unexpected."
"Oh—how should I put it? I guess they think I'm a bit strange. Actually, some people call me 'Loony' Lovegood. But Ginny stops them from calling me that, so we became good friends. Actually, I don't think they're wrong."
"Coincidentally, I don't consider myself a normal person either, but that's not important—how did you just detect me?"
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