Chapter 25: You Are Merely Looking, While I Am Observing

The Mending Charm is a highly practical spell capable of repairing most damaged objects. During his first Charms class, Sherlock continued his practice from other subjects, repeatedly posing questions to Professor Flitwick. Much like in his other courses, his goal was to gain a comprehensive understanding of the material. Unexpectedly, Professor Flitwick proved quite enthusiastic toward such a studious wizard, and as a result, Sherlock not only met his objectives but also gained an extra reward. He learned a useful new charm from Flitwick: the Warming Charm. As the name suggests, a single incantation leaves one feeling warm all over, as if wearing a pair of fleece-lined trousers. For Sherlock, who had just recovered from a major illness and was now facing this damp, chilly weather, it was incredibly practical.

The others could only look on with envy. After all, students who could skillfully master and apply the Mending Charm in their very first lesson were few and far between; aside from Sherlock, only a handful of others, like Hermione, could manage it. Even for Hermione, however, finding the energy to learn an additional spell was a case of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. This caused her to clench her small fists in determination. *Holmes, I will not lose to you!*

The Charms class on Tuesday afternoon was followed immediately by Transfiguration, making the schedule feel rather tight. This was especially true for the Gryffindors, primarily because of Harry. Compared to the enthusiasm shown during breakfast in the Great Hall, the behavior of the gawking crowd was even more intense. Students without classes formed long lines outside the classroom, all standing on tiptoe, hoping to catch a glimpse of the hero who had defeated the Dark Lord as a mere infant. In the corridors, their behavior was even more exaggerated. They would walk past Harry, only to turn back and stare at him intently. Were it not for the sake of basic decency, they would have crowded in close just to see what the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead actually looked like.

Harry sincerely wished they wouldn't do this, as the path to the classroom was difficult enough to navigate. That first-year students did not know the way was one thing; the other was that the layout of Hogwarts was inherently difficult to fathom. The paths here changed constantly: some staircases led to different locations at different times; some steps would suddenly vanish halfway up, forcing people to remember where they needed to leap; some doors were not real doors at all, but solid walls that merely looked like them. Even the figures in the portraits constantly visited one another, making it impossible to use them as reliable landmarks. Everything was in a state of flux, making it quite a challenge to remember where things were. The intense scrutiny from the other students only exacerbated these difficulties.

"Sherlock, you are absolutely amazing!" Harry couldn't help but offer his heartfelt praise after Sherlock led him and Ron through the unruly staircases, over the two vanishing steps, around the mischievous Peeves, and finally opened a door that didn't look like a door at all in the correct way. "How on earth do you remember such complicated routes?"

Sherlock smiled slightly. "Actually, you could do it too."

"Me?" Harry pointed at himself, looking bewildered.

"Yes, dear Harry. I have told you many times: the scenes you and I see are no different. What I can do, you can do as well."

"That's impossible!" Before Harry could respond, Ron interjected. "As far as I know, no one in the entire first year—no, the entire school—can remember all the correct routes to the classrooms like you do. Even among the upperclassmen, I suspect only George and Fred could manage it." Harry nodded repeatedly, clearly agreeing with Ron.

Sherlock turned slightly to dodge a ghost that had suddenly lunged from behind a door, his utter indifference causing a flicker of deep disappointment in the ghost’s eyes. He explained, "Harry, remember when we first met, I told you that your uncle had sent you to the station? You seemed quite surprised at the time."

"That's true." Recalling the circumstances of their first meeting, Harry still felt surprised.

"Yet, after I told you the process of my deduction, you felt that everything was self-evident."

"Yes, every time I hear you explain these deductions, things always seem so obvious—almost laughably simple, to the point where I feel I could have deduced them myself." Harry scratched his head, asking with some confusion, "But before you explain the process, I am always completely baffled by every step of your reasoning."

"Same here!" Ron chimed in again, looking slightly unconvinced. "But I still think our eyesight is no worse than yours."

"You are actually not wrong."

"Huh?" Ron was stunned. *Wait, I was just saying that—how can you actually admit it?*

"The problem is that you are looking, not observing. There is a distinct difference between the two." Seeing Harry and Ron’s perplexed expressions, Sherlock paused before continuing, "For instance, you have been at school for three days now. Do you know how many staircases are in the castle?"

Harry replied, "I don't know."

Ron added, "That kind of thing... how could anyone possibly know that!"

"Because you are not observing, you are merely looking—which is exactly the point I am making. Hogwarts has one hundred and forty-two staircases in total, and there are three types: nine, twelve, and fourteen steps respectively. The Gryffindor Tower is located on the east side of the castle, its common room is on the eighth floor of the tower, and along with the Observatory and the Ravenclaw Tower, they are the three highest towers in the school. I know these things because I do not just look; I observe."

The statement left Harry and Ron completely stunned.

"Alright, we have arrived at the classroom. We can discuss this topic later if you are interested." Because Sherlock led the way, the group arrived five minutes before the start of class. Even so, the classroom was chaotic, largely because Professor McGonagall, who was in charge of the instruction, had not yet arrived. As the Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, she was known for being strict and fair. If she had been in the room, the students would certainly not have dared to act out.

"Why is there a cat there?" Ron looked around the room and asked in surprise. Sherlock had naturally noticed the small cat crouching on the teacher’s desk much earlier than him. After staring at the cat for a few seconds, a curious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Harry, take a guess: where do you think this cat came from?"

"Perhaps it's Professor McGonagall's pet?" Harry replied uncertainly.

"Incorrect."

"It's not?"

"Perfect. Let me demonstrate to you the process of forming a deduction through observation." Amidst the surprised gazes of those nearby, Sherlock strode to the podium, grabbed the small cat by the scruff of its neck, and lifted it into the air.