Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

Sherlock hadn't thought about whether he could catch the murderer, but he felt that the possibility of finding the old book was still very high.

He hasn't forgotten what he found wrong with a student before, and now he at least has a target of suspicion.

"Password?"

The portrait of the Fat Lady in front of Gryffindor yawned and asked Sherlock perfunctorily.

She has been informed that a professor will search the lounge next, and asking for a password is just a matter of routine.

"Dragon Slag."

After reporting the correct password, the portrait of the fat lady opened the entrance of the lounge and let Sherlock in.

The prefect of each academy would brag about his academy's lounge when introducing freshmen, and that no outsiders had come in for hundreds of years.

Sherlock felt that these words were most likely false.

Although the entrances to the lounges of the four academies are guarded in different ways, as long as there are wizards who really want to enter, these simple guards cannot stop them.

Like him now, with Dumbledore's permission, a Ravenclaw graduate walked into Gryffindor's lounge in a grand manner.

Sherlock didn't have a serious voyeuristic desire, and he wasn't interested in knowing what these students were hiding in the dormitory.

After entering here, he went straight to the boys' dormitory, and Professor McGonagall would search the girls' dormitory.

Even with a restless Gryffindor, the bedroom was not too chaotic.

It's not how diligent these little lions are, but the hard-working house-elves help them clean every day.

Searching the bedroom is not too troublesome. Sherlock can summon all the books in the room to him as long as he waved his wand lightly and used a Flying Spell after entering.

After checking that there is no problem, let all the books fly back to their original positions.

But after entering a room that seemed to be the same as other bedrooms, Sherlock's attention suddenly became extremely concentrated.

He saw the signatures on the parchments on the desk.

This is Harry and Ron's bedroom.

But his focus was not on Harry and the others.

Like other dormitories, after checking all the books in the dormitory with the Flying Spell, he went to the four-poster bed marked with Neville Longbottom's name, and checked all Neville's belongings. Check carefully.

As a result, nothing unusual was found.

Sherlock frowned, and he checked everything related to Neville in this bedroom again, and the result was the same.

In the end, Sherlock, who found nothing, could only leave the Gryffindor lounge. After checking the Ravenclaw boys' dormitory, he also found nothing.

At eight o'clock in the evening, the four professors in charge of the search gathered in the corridor in front of the auditorium.

"I didn't find anything here." Professor Sprout, who searched the girls' dormitories of Slytherin and Hufflepuff, shook his head.

Needless to say, from the faces of Professor McGonagall and Snape, Sherlock could see that they didn't find anything either.

He touched his chin and turned his gaze to the auditorium door.

"Let's take a look at the students first. The student who was bewitched might have been carrying the book with him."

The professors turned their attention to the door of the auditorium together, and now this is indeed the only possibility.

They entered the auditorium, and Professor Flitwick just happened to cooperate with Filch at this time, and counted all the students in the auditorium.

It was determined that except for the three students who were lying in the school hospital at the time of the attack, everyone else was here.

There are five professors gathered in the auditorium now.

Four deans, plus Sherlock, a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor with a special position at Hogwarts.

Students are divided into colleges, and the dean of each college is responsible for examining students in his own college.

Of course, they did not say that they were searching for old books, but quietly observed each student.

That old book, Sherlock, had come into contact with, and it wasn't very thin. If it was carried around, it would be obvious, especially now that most students were wearing pajamas.

Sherlock came to Gryffindor's rest area with a clear goal, and found Neville who was sitting on the ground alone in a daze.

"Mr Longbottom."

Neville heard Sherlock's voice, his body shuddered, and he raised his head slightly panicked.

"Fu, Professor Forrest."

Seeing his reaction, Sherlock further confirmed his guess.

There must be something wrong with Neville!

After some clues in the headmaster's office, he already felt that it was probably not the Malfoy father and son who made the mark on his left arm react when he was in the bookstore, but the old book.

After arriving at Hogwarts, such a searing reaction happened to Neville again.

This had to make Sherlock associate them together.

"Mr Longbottom, can you tell me where you were when Malfoy was attacked?"

Sherlock asked quietly.

However, his eyes did not meet Neville's, but he was looking at what was on Neville's body.

Neville looked nervous at his questioning and stammered.

"I, I was working with Seamus and the others in the dormitory, writing potions class homework."

Before Sherlock could ask another question, Seamus on the side took the initiative to say.

"Yes, Professor, I can testify for Neville!"

It didn't matter where Neville was when Malfoy was attacked, the basilisk didn't necessarily have to watch its owner when it attacked, Sherlock asked this just as an excuse to talk to Neville. .

But the results let him down again.

Neville had changed into his pajamas at this point, and he had nowhere to hide, let alone an old book so obvious.

Sherlock, who had no harvest, did not continue to ask more questions. He was also worried that he would make a fool of himself. If the old book was in a hurry, it would just pop up in Hogwarts, and then it would be troublesome if it slipped away.

The examination of the students also ended quickly, and the five professors gathered again, and none of them found anything.

Professor McGonagall's face was ugly, and she turned and left the auditorium.

"I'll go to Albus to see if he has any other options."

Professor Sprout sighed and shook his head.

"I'm going to put the students to sleep."

Professor Flitwick went with her, leaving only Snape and Sherlock standing on the high platform, watching the students below who got into their sleeping bags and prepared to fall asleep under the orders of the two professors.

"It didn't turn out as you said," Snape said coldly.

Sherlock was also very depressed, and he replied coldly.

"If everything is as I think, then I'm not a wizard but a Muggle god."