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The Repairing Charm was a very practical spell, capable of restoring most damaged objects.
Sherlock's performance in the first Charms lesson remained consistent with his approach in other classes: constantly asking Professor Flitwick questions.
As with the other courses, his goal was to gain a comprehensive understanding of the subject.
Unexpectedly, Professor Flitwick was very enthusiastic towards studious wizards. As a result, Sherlock not only achieved his intended goal but also gained an extra reward.
He learned a very useful new spell from Flitwick – the Warming Charm.
As the name suggests, one cast of this spell made the entire body feel warm, as if wearing fleece-lined long johns.
This was extremely practical for Sherlock, who was recovering from a serious illness and encountering such damp, cold weather.
Others could only look on with envy.
After all, students who could skillfully master and apply the Repairing Charm in the very first lesson were already few and far between. Besides Sherlock, only Hermione and a handful of others managed it.
But even Hermione lacked the spare energy to learn a new spell while keeping up.
This made her secretly clench her little fists.
Holmes, I won't lose to you!
Transfiguration class immediately followed Charms on Tuesday afternoon, making the schedule feel somewhat tight.
This was especially true for the Gryffindor students.
The main reason was still Harry.
Compared to the enthusiasm during breakfast in the Great Hall, the crowd of onlookers was even more intense now.
Students without classes lined up outside the classroom, all standing on tiptoe, eager to catch a glimpse of the hero who had defeated the Dark Lord as a mere baby.
In the corridors, these students' behavior was even more exaggerated.
They would walk past Harry, then turn back just to stare intently at him.
If it weren't too rude, they would have even crowded closer to examine the lightning-bolt scar on Harry's forehead.
Harry sincerely wished they wouldn't, as navigating to the classroom was incredibly difficult.
First-years not knowing the way was one aspect; another was that the paths in Hogwarts were inherently hard to find.
The routes here changed constantly: some staircases led to different places at different times; some steps would suddenly vanish halfway, forcing people to remember where to jump; some doors weren't real doors at all, just solid walls that looked like doors.
Even the people in the portraits constantly visited each other, making it impossible to use them as landmarks.
Everything was constantly moving, so remembering where things were was extremely difficult.
The intense scrutiny Harry faced from other students only exacerbated this difficulty.
"Sherlock, you're amazing!"
Under Sherlock's guidance, Harry and Ron quickly navigated past the misbehaving staircases, jumped over two missing steps, bypassed the mischievous Peeves, and finally opened a door that didn't look like a door using the correct method. Harry couldn't help but offer sincere praise.
"How on earth did you remember such a complicated route?"
Sherlock smiled faintly. "Actually, you could too."
"Me?"
Harry pointed at himself, looking utterly bewildered.
"Yes, my dear Harry. I've actually told you many times: what you see and what I see are no different. Therefore, what I can do, you can do too."
"That's impossible!"
Before Harry could reply, Ron interjected:
"As far as I know, in the entire house... no, in the entire school, not a single first-year can remember all the correct paths to the classrooms like you. Even including the older students, probably only George and Fred could manage it."
Harry nodded repeatedly, clearly agreeing with Ron.
Sherlock sidestepped slightly, dodging a ghost that suddenly darted out from behind a door. His unfazed demeanor elicited a look of deep disappointment from the ghost.
He explained, "Harry, remember when we first met, I mentioned your uncle brought you to the station? You seemed quite surprised then."
"Yes, that's right."
Recalling their first encounter, Harry still felt surprised now.
"But after I explained the reasoning process, you found it all so obvious."
"Yes, every time you explain your reasoning, things always seem so obvious, almost laughably simple, even to the point where I feel I could deduce it myself."
Harry scratched his head, asking with some confusion, "But before you explain the reasoning, I'm always baffled about the next step of your deduction."
"Me too!"
Ron chimed in again, adding somewhat defiantly, "But I still think our eyesight isn't worse than yours."
"You're actually not wrong."
"Huh?"
Ron was taken aback upon hearing this.
Wait, I just said that casually, why did you actually admit it?
"The issue is that you see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear."
Seeing the bewildered looks on Harry and Ron's faces, Sherlock paused, then continued, "For example, we've been at the school for three days now. Do you know how many staircases there are in the castle?"
Harry: "I don't know."
Ron: "That sort of thing... how could anyone possibly know!"
"Because you haven't observed, you've only seen – which is precisely my point.
Hogwarts has exactly one hundred and forty-two staircases. There are three types: those with nine, twelve, and fourteen steps.
Gryffindor Tower is located on the east side of the castle, its common room on the eighth floor. Along with the Astronomy Tower and Ravenclaw Tower, it is one of the three tallest towers in the school.
I know these things because I not only see, but I observe."
This speech left Harry and Ron completely stunned.
"Alright, we've reached the classroom. We can discuss this topic later if you're interested."
Thanks to Sherlock leading the way, the group arrived at the classroom five minutes before the lesson began.
Even so, the classroom was chaotic.
Mainly because Professor McGonagall, who was teaching the class, hadn't arrived yet.
She was the Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, known for her strictness and fairness.
If she were in the classroom, the students certainly wouldn't dare misbehave.
"Why is there a cat there?"
Ron scanned the classroom and exclaimed in surprise.
Sherlock had naturally noticed the tabby cat sitting primly on the teacher's desk earlier than him.
After staring at the cat for a few seconds, a knowing smile touched his lips:
"Harry, care to guess where this cat came from?"
"Maybe it's Professor McGonagall's pet?"
Harry answered uncertainly.
"Incorrect."
"Incorrect?"
"Excellent. Allow me to demonstrate the process of forming deductions through observation."
Amidst the astonished gazes of those nearby, Sherlock strode towards the teacher's desk, grasped the scruff of the little cat's neck – the nexus of its fate – and lifted it up.
(End of Chapter)