Chapter 54: He Is Still a Child

As soon as Snape was escorted out of the headmaster's office by Dumbledore, he caught sight of Harry and Hermione whispering together, and his expression darkened instantly.

"Why are you still here?"

Harry felt a jolt of panic and hurried to explain, "Professor, we were just—"

Before he could finish, Snape cut him off without a shred of courtesy.

"Potter, I am not your babysitter."

Ignoring Hermione completely, he fixed his gaze on Harry like a sharp blade slicing through flesh.

"Why must you always act without bringing your brain along? Or is the thing resting on your neck merely for decoration?"

Snape's venomous words left Harry gaping, utterly at a loss for what to do.

"Do your ears fail you as well as your mind? What are you still lingering here for! Do you perhaps require me to assign you a detention?"

The color drained from both Harry and Hermione's faces.

At that exact moment, Professor McGonagall pushed the door open, her expression even gloomier than Snape's.

"Professor Snape, Potter was brought here by me. He is still a Gryffindor student, and any disciplinary action should be handled by me."

Seeing McGonagall emerge from the headmaster's office as well, Snape froze for a brief moment, though a flicker of understanding quickly crossed his eyes.

Whether it was imagination or reality, both Harry and Hermione noticed the corners of Snape's mouth twitch upward.

"Very well... Professor McGonagall, though I hardly think you ought to continue indulging—"

"Severus, I am his Head of House."

This time, it was Snape who was interrupted.

He cast a surprised look at McGonagall, seemingly taken aback that she would speak to him thus.

Without another glance, McGonagall turned and led Harry and Hermione away.

Harry and Hermione, who had originally hoped to stay behind and wait for Sherlock, fell silent as mice and meekly followed.

At that moment, they felt that Professor McGonagall was even more terrifying than Professor Snape.

Once the three of them vanished from his line of sight, Snape turned back to give the headmaster's office door one last look, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes before he swept away.

Inside the Headmaster's Office.

Sherlock could clearly sense that Professor McGonagall seemed even more furious about Dumbledore "escorting" them out of the office than Professor Snape had been.

He looked at Dumbledore. "Did all of that really have to wait until it was just the two of us?"

"Yes, though the time is not quite right yet."

With those words, Dumbledore raised his wand and tapped the desk, turning his gaze toward the portraits hanging along the wall.

"My friends, would you mind excusing us for a moment?"

Among the portraits of men and women, those who had been gently snoring in their frames as Sherlock first entered now began to stir.

At Dumbledore's request, the portraits on the wall broke into disgruntled murmurs.

A few who had been dozing off managed, under Dumbledore's steady gaze, to give up pretending to sleep and departed their frames from the side with grumbling complaints.

"They are the former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts..."

As all the frames emptied, Dumbledore spoke, a trace of nostalgia softening his eyes.

Sherlock asked instinctively, "Will you be among them one day?"

"What?"

For a moment, Dumbledore failed to follow Sherlock's train of thought.

"I mean, will you too be hung up here after you die?"

"...Yes, though I sincerely hope that day does not arrive too soon."

At this, Sherlock understood.

After a brief silence, Dumbledore broke it first, dropping a bombshell straight away:

"I suspect that Quirrell... has already begun working for Voldemort."

Sherlock was not surprised at all. "So Voldemort truly did not die?"

"I have always suspected he perished not," Dumbledore said earnestly. "Though many believe he vanished eleven years ago, for a dark wizard of his immense power, cheating death... is not an insurmountable task."

He paused, looking at Sherlock with mild curiosity. "You do not seem surprised?"

"Rubeus Hagrid once said something similar to Harry."

Sherlock was entirely frank. "Certain events since my arrival at the school have only served to confirm my suspicions. That being the case, however, why not simply drive Quirrell out of the castle?"

Judging from historical records and literature, Voldemort's strength was beyond dispute.

Even in his current weakened state, he could not be underestimated.

Yet, knowing Quirrell was compromised, why not nip the danger in the bud?

"Quirrell... was an exceptional Ravenclaw. As a headmaster, I cannot simply abandon my students—even after they have graduated."

Dumbledore's voice lowered slightly.

"Since the term began, he has changed drastically, yet I can sense that he is still struggling within—did you not think so as well?"

"Is that your reason for dismissing the others?"

Dumbledore's rationale struck Sherlock as almost absurd.

"Quirrell was your student, but were the others not? Harry, myself... the first-year newcomers, and every senior student in this castle—they are all your students. To gamble the safety of so many lives merely to save a stray soul, and perhaps a completely irredeemable one at that? For a man who once penned a bloody vengeance, I hardly think it is a worthwhile trade."

Sherlock's words bordered on outright accusation.

Yet Dumbledore was no Snape; he replied in a gentle tone:

"Sherlock, I must admit, you are even more brilliant than Minerva claimed."

"Thank you, you already mentioned that a moment ago."

Even when praised by the greatest white wizard of the century, Sherlock saw no reason to swell with pride.

"You are no fool, therefore... exactly what gives you the courage to keep Quirrell lingering within these walls?"

"Forgive me, I have a hypothesis, but there are certain things I cannot yet share with you—"

"It is because of Harry, isn't it?"

"What did you say?"

Sherlock's words brought Dumbledore to a sudden halt once more.

"You are pinning your hopes entirely on Harry, are you not?"

Sherlock said with an impassive face.

Dumbledore looked at him in silence.

The young man's extraordinary, piercing insight suddenly reminded him of someone—an old friend.

Before he could indulge in the memory, however, Sherlock launched into a rapid-fire verbal assault:

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore... Headmaster! People say the only thing Voldemort fears is you. Yet you yourself just stated that Voldemort is a dark wizard capable of defying death. Therefore, I fail to understand why you believe a mere boy can combat the initiator of a wizarding war! He is still a child! A first-year novice who has only just begun learning magic! Or do you genuinely believe Harry Potter is the Chosen One, and that he alone defeated Voldemort? If that is your reasoning, perhaps you ought to journey into the dense forests of Uganda and wrestle with mountain gorillas. Perhaps the force of their heavy palms might knock some sense back into your brain."