Chapter 56: You're Actually Quite Nice

"You spent that long in the headmaster's office, and you were just discussing the inheritance Harry's parents left him?"

It was the next day when Sherlock met up with Harry and Hermione again.

Hearing what Sherlock said about his discussion with Dumbledore, both of them were left utterly speechless.

Oh, right, and Ron as well.

He expressed strong dissatisfaction with what Sherlock had pulled off yesterday.

If Sherlock had faced heavyweights like Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape all by himself, that would be one thing.

But why had he called along Harry and Hermione, yet deliberately left him out?

What was that supposed to mean?

Was it done on purpose?

Sherlock had indeed done it on purpose.

From his perspective, the only role Ron played in the entire incident was making Hermione run off to the girls' bathroom all by herself.

After that, he had simply tagged along with Harry the entire time.

Therefore, there was zero need for him to have Harry's account retold from a different perspective.

In fact, had it not been for that little interlude, Sherlock's investigation into the troll incident would have been even smoother.

It was essentially a case of artificial difficulty scaling.

That being the case, it was better not to call along such a companion.

Of course, everything had two sides.

This affair had also taught Hermione a lesson, making her realize her own flaws.

Nowadays, she got along with her classmates much more harmoniously than before.

In a way, that could barely be considered Ron's contribution.

Ignoring Ron's complaints, Sherlock turned to Harry. "Harry, you might find this hard to believe, but the inheritance your parents left you is actually quite substantial."

"Yes, I've already seen it at Gringotts."

Mentioning his parents inevitably brought Harry's mood down.

As if completely oblivious to this, Sherlock continued, "No, that's only a fraction of it—in fact, your parents left you a great deal more, and it's all at the old Potter family estate."

Harry raised his head in surprise.

He watched as Sherlock looked right at him, pronouncing each word with deliberate clarity:

"Beyond that, the Potter family also holds the rights to a remarkably potent hair-growth potion.

Because its effects are so extraordinary, even the promotional staff used 'Not a single bald wizard in the magical world' as a core selling point in their widespread advertisements.

By agreement, every time a bottle of this hair-growth potion is sold on the market, you receive a royalty fee.

It's just that these families haven't paid up in ten years.

Although Dumbledore said he'd be willing to help, my personal advice is that matters of debt collection are best handled in person."

At this point, Sherlock's eyes were gleaming, shining with excitement.

Watching Sherlock give him such earnest and serious strategy advice, Harry didn't know what to say for a moment.

If you said he had your best interests at heart, bringing up this topic at a time like this was still somewhat inappropriate.

If you said he was stirring up trouble, based on his understanding of Sherlock, he knew the other boy was genuinely trying to help him out.

That was precisely why he was even more at a loss for words.

"Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen a bald wizard. So it was all thanks to the Potter family!"

Ron couldn't help chiming in.

Sherlock nodded.

Just as Ron had said, he had long noticed that wizards, regardless of gender or age, all possessed a thick head of hair.

Initially, he had assumed this was an innate perk wizards enjoyed compared to Muggles.

Only after listening to Dumbledore's introduction did he realize that the Potter family had made such an extraordinary contribution to the magical world.

Sherlock instantly felt a surge of profound respect.

One had to understand that baldness was every man's mortal enemy.

"But what if—what if someone used Harry's hair-growth potion and it didn't work? What would happen then?"

Ron couldn't help asking again.

"Normally that's impossible, but if it really did happen, it would be troublesome."

Sherlock stared at Harry, his expression dead serious.

"The other party would certainly assume the Potter family's hair-growth potion was all hype, and might storm over to settle scores with Harry.

If they were narrow-minded, it wouldn't be out of the question for them to retaliate against Harry over something like that."

Harry: O__O

"Look, let's set that aside for a moment."

Seeing Sherlock and Ron dragging the topic further and further off course, Hermione quickly interrupted them. She looked at Sherlock and asked,

"Professor Dumbledore chased all of us out just to tell you this?"

Was the headmaster really that idle?

"Not at all. I brought it up of my own accord."

Harry: ━━∑(￣□￣*|||━━

Sherlock said this and turned back to Harry: "My dear Harry, you deserve this. No need to feel embarrassed."

Harry's expression was complicated: "Thanks."

Ron: "You really are a piece of work."

"Who's asking you about that!"

Hermione finally lost her patience, lowering her voice as she demanded, "What on earth is going on with Quirrell?"

"Oh, so that's what you want to know..."

"Well, obviously?"

Hermione wore a look of utter exasperation. Who cared about hair-growth potion?!

"Insufficient evidence. Right now, it can't be confirmed that Quirrell is Voldemort's lackey."

Hearing that name, Ron couldn't help but shiver.

"Insufficient evidence?"

Hermione was somewhat agitated. "Sherlock, haven't you already deduced it?"

"As you said yourself, that's merely a deduction."

Sherlock said calmly, "Although I am almost certain that the troll and the blood-written message were Quirrell's doing, without conclusive evidence, Dumbledore will not make a move against a professor."

"How can this be..."

Hermione's spirits dropped. "That's Voldemort we're talking about! Knowing full well that someone so dangerous is eyeing Harry, how can they just sit back and do nothing?"

Having discovered that prophecy concerning Harry and Voldemort in the library, Hermione was well aware of why Voldemort was targeting Harry.

Because of this, she understood Harry's precarious situation much better than Ron did.

Surely it couldn't really be because someone used the hair-growth potion and it failed?

"Dumbledore has promised that he will protect Harry well."

Sherlock wasn't lying.

He simply hadn't finished his sentence.

Sherlock knew very well that without him, under Dumbledore's encouragement—or rather, instigation—even if Harry remained ignorant of the facts, his hot-headed nature would have him charging blindly into the fray.

Perhaps under the protection of Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and the others, Harry really would manage to turn danger into safety.

Yet Sherlock felt this was far from ideal.

He believed a person shouldn't be manipulated like a puppet under the banner of "this is all for your own good."

Struggles required strategy.

That was why he had strongly demanded that Dumbledore reveal the truth.

Even so, Sherlock still sensed that things were being kept from him.

That was fine, though. Secrets couldn't be kept from him for long.

"Is there any chance,"

at that moment, Ron muttered softly, "that Snape is actually the bad guy? I always felt Professor Quirrell doesn't seem like the type who could pull something like that off."

Hermione glanced at Ron and, in a rare occurrence, didn't refute him.

Indeed, compared to Professor Quirrell, Snape certainly looked much more like a villain.

"Your misunderstanding of Professor Snape is far too deep."

Sherlock looked at Harry and offered a serious suggestion.

"Annoying though he may be, he is precisely the person who least wants anything to happen to you.

On the contrary, if you ever feel you are in mortal danger, you can turn to him for help at any time."

"Understood."

When it came to Sherlock, Harry's trust was now unconditional.

Seeing Harry acting like this, Ron didn't know what else to say.

He could see it now—even if Sherlock told him the sun was square, Harry would believe it.

With that realization, he simply pivoted to another question weighing on his mind:

"Since that blood-written message was penned in German, why don't you think the mastermind is simply a German?"