"What did you say? You have a new lead?"
The stone walls of the castle corridor emanated a cold, hard gray. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting long strips of light on the ground.
When Harry heard Sherlock's words, his previously drooping shoulders seemed pulled tight by invisible strings. He stared wide-eyed at Sherlock. "What did you say? You have a new lead?"
He'd been wondering why Sherlock wanted to talk to him privately. He never expected the other party would open with such explosive news.
"Consider it an unexpected gain from this trip to Little Hangleton." Sherlock looked at Harry's excited expression, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smile. "I knew this news would help you pull yourself together."
Harry scratched his head somewhat embarrassedly. He could feel his ears getting slightly warm, but still asked urgently. "What's going on? Tell me quickly."
Sherlock didn't keep him in suspense and straightforwardly stated his judgment. "Since we had the rare opportunity to review files at the police station, I looked through some additional materials about the victim. Unexpectedly, I really found some useful information—it was a case from fifty years ago."
Sherlock leaned against the stone wall of the castle corridor and said quietly. "It was this case that turned the Riddle House from the mansion it once was into the desolate, dilapidated state it's in now."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Harry's eyes involuntarily grew wider.
It must be said that when Sherlock had told them about the Little Hangleton trip a few days ago, he hadn't noticed this point at all.
Sherlock continued. "Fifty years ago, the Riddle family of three—old Mr. and Mrs. Riddle and their son Tom Riddle, who was still a young man at the time died mysteriously. The initial suspect was none other than the victim in this case, Frank, who was then the Riddle House gardener."
"Frank killed Voldemort's grandparents and father fifty years ago?" Harry's eyes widened in shock, unable to believe his ears.
Sherlock shook his head.
"According to the case file, at dawn on a clear summer day, all three Riddles died. The first to discover them was the Riddle House's maid. The reason Frank was identified as a suspect was because of his withdrawn, antisocial personality.
Additionally, he had a key to the Riddle House's back door, and there were no signs of forced entry at the scene of the three deaths. So, whether it was the police or the villagers at the time, everyone generally believed that Frank had secretly slipped into the mansion while others were asleep."
Harry blinked. It sounded reasonable, but something felt like it was missing.
"It's the motive." Sherlock once again precisely saw through Harry's thoughts and directly provided the answer.
"Although murder cases in legal definition and judicial practice don't necessarily require proving motive in the traditional sense, motive is often an important auxiliary basis for solving cases and securing convictions.
The vast majority of murder cases also have traceable motives. But Frank, as the Riddle's gardener, had no motive. It was the Riddles who provided him with a job after he left the battlefield. He had no reason to kill his employers."
Harry suddenly understood.
Sherlock continued.
"Theoretically, motiveless murders do exist, but they're extremely rare in reality and are mostly related to special psychological states. Moreover, the Riddles' autopsy report completely turned the situation around. all three people appeared healthy, with no abnormalities on their bodies.
The only suspicious point was that each person's face bore an expression of terror, as if they'd been frightened to death. Because of this, Frank was ultimately cleared of suspicion and released.
What he did afterward also surprised people. he returned to his small cottage in the Riddle House courtyard and continued to tend the garden for the next family that lived in the Riddle House."
"That house still had people living in it? But didn't you say it was run-down..."
"That's because the two families who later lived there didn't stay very long. So, the house changed hands several times until now, when a wealthy merchant bought it for tax reasons."
"Tax reasons?" Harry found it increasingly strange.
"The file says 'for tax purposes,' so the house's owner neither lives there nor uses it for any other purpose like a warehouse. But Frank still stayed on and continued to maintain it. It's precisely because of this that he was tormented by the village boys.
On one hand, it's their nature, but on the other hand, it's because those boys' parents and grandparents still believe Frank is a murderer to this day. They condone their children treating a lonely old man this way."
Harry listened intently, his eyes locked on Sherlock, not even noticing the footsteps echoing in the corridor.
Just then, Sherlock suddenly changed the subject, turning to look at him with a somewhat probing expression. "Dear Harry, why don't you guess what really killed this family of three?"
"How would I kn—" Harry instinctively started to say he didn't know, but the words caught in his throat.
He stared into Sherlock's eyes, suddenly remembering that Sherlock never spoke without purpose. If he was asking Harry to guess, it must be an answer he could think of.
He quickly replayed everything Sherlock had just said in his mind, then suddenly his eyes lit up as he blurted out. "The Killing Curse!"
"Bingo!" Sherlock snapped his fingers, but his expression immediately became serious. "If I hadn't been exposed to the magical world, I'd certainly be at a complete loss about this traceless death. But now it seems there's only one possibility for this case—a wizard committed the crime. Moreover, this matter is very likely related to Voldemort."
Hearing this, Harry couldn't help but gasp. "Fifty years ago... wouldn't that be exactly when Voldemort... opened the Chamber of Secrets?"
"Harry, you've found the blind spot." Sherlock showed a gratified smile and patted Harry's shoulder. "Fifty years ago was precisely when Tom Riddle killed Myrtle and opened the Chamber of Secrets. It was also when he asked Slughorn whether multiple Horcruxes could be made. So can we make this hypothesis?"
He paused, his gaze becoming profound.
"Dumbledore once said that Tom Riddle was someone he specifically pulled out of an orphanage. That means his parents abandoned him from childhood. So, when he grew up and found his father's family, might he have killed them because of this?"
Harry frowned in thought, his mind filled with his impressions of Voldemort. If it really was Voldemort who did it, it wouldn't be surprising at all.
He nodded lightly, then hesitated. "But... but we don't have any evidence now."
"Well said, Harry!" This time Sherlock smiled happily. "Even with Voldemort, we can't convict him without evidence. So I suggest Dumbledore start investigating in this direction. With his abilities, as long as we have a clear direction, I'm sure it won't be long before we can approach the answer. If my deduction is correct, this case might really help us find clues about the Horcruxes."
"That's wonderful!" Harry had been worrying about Voldemort constantly. But if they could destroy several Horcruxes before he regained his body and made a comeback... no, even if they destroyed just one Horcrux, it would be a victory!
Thinking of this, Harry immediately felt much happier. The heavy golden egg seemed to have disappeared.
"Thank you, Sherlock!" He looked at Sherlock, his heart full of gratitude. Finally, he couldn't help but step forward and give Sherlock an enthusiastic hug.
Sherlock froze for a moment, then gently patted his back.
By the time they got to Herbology class, Hermione and Ron immediately noticed the change in Harry. His face had a smile again, and he was even humming an off-key tune while organizing herbs.
"Sherlock really is something else!" Ron said with a grin. "Cho Chang and Ginny couldn't cheer him up, but just going out with Sherlock for a bit brought back his smile."
"Don't say things that could cause misunderstandings." Hermione was very dissatisfied with Ron. She knew exactly what Ron was implying. This was Britain, after all. Sherlock was already quite slow when it came to his feelings for Hermione. Ron's implications only made her more annoyed.
"But it's true..." Ron muttered.
Hermione glared fiercely at Ron. That's exactly why such words were even more unpleasant to hear!
After Herbology was Care of Magical Creatures class, which didn't conflict with other courses. Unfortunately, the Hogwarts grounds were still covered in thick snow. The greenhouse windows were condensing with fine water droplets, and the students in Herbology class couldn't even see the scene outside.
In such weather, no one wanted to go to Care of Magical Creatures class—even though it was afternoon now.
"Don't worry!" Ron chuckled. "The Blast-Ended Skrewts will keep us warm."
"What are you talking about?" Lavender asked curiously. "Why would Blast-Ended Skrewts keep us warm?"
Parvati and Lavender had been getting along quite well with Harry and Ron lately. The reason was naturally that they'd been helping Harry and Ron with their Divination homework. After dancing several dances with Ron at the Christmas Ball, Lavender's relationship with Ron had become even better. She'd become Ron's closest female friend.
As for Hermione? Sorry, but she was just one of the guys.
So hearing Lavender speak up, Ron immediately laughed. "Because they'll chase us around everywhere—once we start running, we'll naturally warm up. Even if we don't run, they'll explode with lots of sparks and set Hagrid's hut on fire."
"That would certainly be warm." Hearing Ron's explanation, the students immediately became worried.
"Harry, you have a good relationship with Hagrid. Could you suggest he not make us deal with Blast-Ended Skrewts anymore?" Hearing the students' discussions, Parvati also came over and said to Harry.
Harry coughed somewhat awkwardly. "Well... actually, I've suggested it before, but he wouldn't listen..."
"What? Even you couldn't do anything?" Seeing Harry's setback, the students turned their attention to the great detective Sherlock. "Sherlock, why don't you try!"
"That's right, Holmes, as long as you're willing to take action, everything will get better."
"Lion King, please save us!"
"..."
Seeing this, Hermione couldn't help but laugh. This showed just how desperate Hagrid and his Blast-Ended Skrewts had driven the little lions.
However, knowing Sherlock as she did, he definitely wouldn't do such a thing.
Sure enough, Sherlock shook his head. "Teaching is the teacher's business. We shouldn't interfere. Besides, I don't think the lessons about Blast-Ended Skrewts are completely worthless."
"I knew it..." Just as the students were showing disappointed expressions, Sherlock suddenly changed his tune. "However, I think you probably won't see Blast-Ended Skrewts today."
"Huh?" Hearing Sherlock's words, the little lions were shocked.
Ron was the first to speak. "Sherlock, did you wipe out all those Blast-Ended Skrewts?"
He'd just said it casually, but unexpectedly, the classmates seemed to actually believe it.
"Well done, Sherlock!"
"Brilliant! Worthy of being the Lion King—you didn't let us down!"
"I told you, as long as Holmes takes action, everything gets better!"
Obviously, in their impression, Sherlock Holmes was the kind of person who could do such things.
Seeing Sherlock smiling without speaking, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all began to panic.
On their way to Hagrid's hut after Herbology ended, Harry finally couldn't help but ask. "Sherlock, you didn't really... Hagrid would be heartbroken."
"What are you talking about, Harry?" Though Hermione was speaking up for Sherlock, her words didn't sound very confident. "Sherlock wouldn't do that, right?"
"What are you two worrying about!" Ron said with a grin. "Didn't you hear what everyone just said? The Lion King should be doing this kind of thing!"
But at this moment, Sherlock pointed forward. "We're here."
Following the direction of Sherlock's finger, the little lions immediately understood why Sherlock had said earlier that they wouldn't see Blast-Ended Skrewts in this class.
Because standing at the door of Hagrid's hut was an elderly witch with very short gray hair and a very prominent chin.
When she saw the young wizards trudging through the snow, she said sternly. "Hurry up—the bell rang five minutes ago."
Hermione looked at this witch in surprise, unconsciously turning to Sherlock and asking. "Sherlock, this is..."
Seeing that all the Gryffindor and Slytherin students had arrived before her, the witch finally spoke. "I am Professor Grubbly-Plank. Professor Hagrid is feeling a bit under the weather, so I'll be substituting for him in this Care of Magical Creatures class."
The young wizards immediately looked at each other.
Besides Professor Lupin who was disguised as a man, was there now another professor who needed substitute teachers every so often? Could it be that Rubeus Hagrid was also female?
Thinking of this possibility, the expressions on all the young wizards' faces became difficult to maintain.
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