Chapter 74: Andrew Cavill

As Apparition lesson approached, Sherlock Forester found there was no need for an extensive proof of identity. The actual assessment of one's credentials came later during the official Ministry of Magic's Apparition exam.

Therefore, when the youthful Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts signed up for this supplementary class, he quickly concocted a basic false identity for his own use.

"I remember it clearly," Sherlock declared, feigning the look of one who had narrowly escaped tragedy, "during my sixth year, I experienced a frightful separation of mind and body while attempting the spell. Thank god a nearby Ministry examiner came to my rescue just in the nick of time."

Cavell, his instructor for the time being, swept aside Sherlock's concern with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"I assure you, you're perfectly safe here. You must have looked me up before coming. My record speaks for itself. No less than a hundred adult wizards I've coached succeeded in their Apparition examinations, without a single incident of splinching to sully my reputation."

Following the casual icebreaker, Cavell, being a man of decisiveness and brisk action, spared no time for idle chit-chat.

"Well, Mr. Watson," he addressed Sherlock by his pseudo-name, "given your previous experience with Apparition, can you recall the three fundamental 'D's that govern the spell?"

Having diligently studied the theoretical aspect prior to this session, Sherlock responded without missing a beat. "Destination, Determination, and Deliberation."

"Spot on." Cavell approved, noting further, "Now, not only does Apparition adhere to these principles - virtually every spell does. It's just that their significance is particularly emphasized in Apparition."

With this, he moved swiftly to perform the intriguing demonstration. His wand swished in the air and, in an instant, Cavell vanished from his original position. No sooner than a crackling noise echoed through the air, he reappeared gracefully inside a wooden hoop ten meters away. Following this impressive display, Cavell returned to Sherlock's side using Apparition.

"The truth is, mere observation won't make you grasp the technique," Cavell shared his wisdom, speaking to Sherlock, who was attentively watching. "The essence lies within self-perception. No matter how nervous you are, maintaining composure is the key."

Sherlock had memorized the process of the spell and the required wand movements. What was left was the practical experience. The fee he had paid for this extra class was essentially a safety net - a guarantee there would be assistance available in case any unfortunate splinching occurred.

Pulling out his wand and taking a deep breath, Sherlock listened as Cavell reiterated the key components of the magic. "Remember! Consider the three 'D's! Cast it deliberately and resist becoming overly anxious. Even if you do end up splinching, I'm here to put you back together."

Sherlock focused on the wooden hoop, determining its precise location, deciding with absolute conviction that he would reach this spot, and as he brandished his wand, commanding, "Apparition."

As soon as the spell was invoked, Sherlock felt an alien sensation as if he was being yanked forcefully in a specific direction. However, he did not give in to panic. He remembered 'Deliberation' - one of the three significant 'D's.

As he rotated slightly, he felt the bizarre feeling of his own corporeal presence fading. In the very next moment, Sherlock had the sensation of both traveling a thousand miles and not having moved at all.

Upon completing his rotation and stabilizing himself on the spot, he discovered that he had successfully apparated next to the wooden hoop.

"Well done!" Cavell applauded, a hint of astonishment dancing in his eyes. "Well don indeed! I didn't think anyone would pay real money just to play jokes on me, but your performance just now... it's certainly not that of a beginner!"

Casting a glance at the wooden hoop beside him, Sherlock realized his Apparition had lacked precision - his landing point was almost a meter away from his intended location.

Cavell observed and pointed out the error. "This discrepancy is because your intended destination wasn't clearly fixed in your mind. Try again, this time try to be more precise in your thinking."

On his second attempt, Sherlock corrected the mistake and performed a perfect Apparition. Just as he returned to the hoop as second time however, his satisfied smile had barely formed, he was hit by a sudden wave of nausea.

Cavell, showing an empathetic look, quickly brought him a warm cup of tea from inside his quaint cottage. He quipped, "Now I do believe you're indeed new to Apparition. Novices usually struggle to adjust to the odd sensation at first; don't worry, it'll get more comfortable with practice."

Accepting the tea gratefully, Sherlock queried, "Would you say my Apparition meets the standard?"

"Oh, undeniably. Going by your latest attempt just now, as long as you don't falter during the exam, receiving a license from the Ministry is practically guaranteed," Cavell confidently assured him.

With a casual air belied by his sharp mind, Sherlock probed further. "Generally, how long does it take for an adult wizard to master this spell?"

"Usually, it demands a full month of consistent practice. Though, I must admit I've trained an extraordinarily gifted person who managed it in a mere three days. Nevertheless, someone like you is extraordinarily rare even among prodigies," Cavell confessed, shrugging.

Sherlock listened as Cavell continued, "Young people always enjoy some praise, so I'm accustomed to calling my students rare geniuses once they've learned, just to boost their confidence. But you... you might be the most genuinely gifted student I've encountered."

Despite Cavell's flattering words, Sherlock knew better than to believe in such prodigious talent attributed to him. His proficiency lay in the fact that the original owner of his body had already acquainted himself with Apparition prior to this encounter. Therefore, what seemed like unprecedented genius was merely Sherlock rediscovering and polishing an already known skill.

Cavell noticed the quiet contemplation on Sherlock's face and mistook it for financial concern. Giving Sherlock a comforting pat on the back, he assured him, "No need to fret over the fee. I initially billed you thirty-six galleons for what I estimated to be a week's training period. Since you've grasped it in less than a day, the remaining fee doesn't need to be paid. Come on, let's celebrate over lunch, food's on me of course."

The terms of their agreement were that Sherlock paid twelve galleons upfront and promised to pay the remaining twenty-four after he had successfully passed the course and received the coveted Ministry certification. Sherlock deduced that Cavell's kind gesture of waiving the remaining fee was an attempt to create a favorable rapport with him.

Not wishing to deter Cavell's good intentions, Sherlock accepted the invitation without a second thought. After all, the man Cavell was keen to befriend was John Watson, not Sherlock Forester.

With that settled, Sherlock spent the rest of his time continuously practicing Apparition, going back-and-forth on the expansive lawn in front of Cavell's dwelling to hone his newfound skill.

By the time noon rolled around, Cavell, who had been preparing a sumptuous steak, beckoned Sherlock inside. Quick on his feet, he set two glasses of rich, golden brandy on the dining table.

"I enjoy a little spirit with my meal," the jovial tutor offered, "Feel free to partake or refrain, whatever suits you."

Without any intention to partake in the liquor, Sherlock found it wasn't about his personal drinking habits, but more about sharing a drink with someone he had only just met.

As they shared this amicable meal, Cavell, who was congenial by nature, demonstrated a surprisingly mild tolerance for alcohol. After downing two glasses of brandy, he started to loosen up and engage in more lively conversation.

"The quality of Aurors nowadays simply isn't up to par. When I was young, I spent my days on the frontlines as an Auror battling Dark wizards. There was even a time when I encountered the Death Eaters... right at the peak of the Dark Lord's reign."

Savoring the last remaining drops of brandy in his own glass, Cavell promptly claimed the untouched glass in front of Sherlock.

"Thank Merlin," he continued, "coming face-to-face with the Death Eaters was the most dangerous episode in my life. I was this close to dying," he demonstrated by holding his thumb and forefinger millimeters apart, "I escaped the Killing Curse by a hair's width and only because someone pushed me aside. Tragically, the bloke who saved me paid with his own life."

Regret was evident in his subsequent silence.

"Never even knew his name.. he... he was just one of many fallen Aurors, nameless and forgotten."

By now his visage was in full bloom - a perfect red. Slanting slightly towards Sherlock, he lowered his voice and asked, "Say, have you heard tell of the recent incident at Hogwarts?"

While attempting to keep up an air of nonchalance, Sherlock felt a chill at the familiar topic. Still, he chose to simply nod, "Yeah, I think I've heard a few rumors."