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I'm just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, nothing more.

Just having crossed into the world of Harry Potter, Sherlock Forester, without a golden finger or memories of the original owner's life, regarded the offer letter from Hogwarts in his hand with a sneer. "It's just a professorship in Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts." ----------------- Years later, the Daily Prophet interviewed Harry Potter, one of the most outstanding wizards of the 21st century. "What was the happiest day of your life?" An involuntary smile spread across Harry's face. "The day after Professor Forester predicted that I would be taken by Voldemort." "Um… And the day you'd least like to relive?" Harry's face darkened immediately. "Every Christmas." "Why is that?" He covered his face in agony, letting out a sob. "Wu Wu Wu… Because on that day, Professor Forester would wish me Merry Christmas!" ----------------- This is a translation of '不过是黑魔法防御课教授罢了' by '大海船', you can support him on Qidian if you like.

_Riux · Livros e literatura
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176 Chs

Chapter 75: The Chamber of Secrets Was Opened 50 Years Ago

"The Chamber of Secrets has been unsealed once again," muttered Cavill, his words slurred slightly. Sherlock Forester turned to him, regarding the wizard with an air of casual interest.

"Are you familiar with the legend of the chamber?" Cavill asked with nonchalance.

"Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts, had a vehement disagreement with the rest, concerning whether to accept Muggle-born students. In his dissatisfaction, he constructed a secret chamber, within which he harbored a terrifying monster, biding its time. The creature was supposed to be unleashed by his true heir, purging the castle of those he deemed unworthy, or impure," Sherlock recounted with a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. "Now, how would you know if the chamber has really been opened?"

Before responding, Cavill attacked his steak with robust gusto, a spectacle that might have been placed on a fictional scale from one to absurd. With an immense beefsteak skewered on his fork, he devoured a third of it in a single, savage bite.

"My grandson is currently a sixth-year student at Hogwarts. Dumbledore might want to downplay the situation, letting no one in on the gory details, but with matters as serious as these it's inevitable that people will find out," he masticated the information as he did his food. Sherlock's mind momentarily latched onto a vague memory of a boy with the name Cavill sewn on his uniform.

"Why did you say 'again'? Has the chamber been opened before?" queried Sherlock, speaking softly, his brows furrowed.

Cavill let out a sly chuckle.

"Well, that's a tale few are privy to, although they always say that I brag about it whenever I have had a bit too much to drink…," Cavill shrugged off the end of his steak with an almost beatific look on his face. Evidently, he was relishing the prospect of retelling an old tale.

"Perhaps fifty years ago, though my memory grows fuzzy - Voldemort was likely still mucking about in the dirt then, Hogwarts was under a slew of inexplicable attacks." Swallowing, Cavill paused for dramatic effect.

"Mind you Dumbledore wasn't headmaster yet, just an ordinary Transfiguration teacher. Though it seemed like he wouldn't be one for much longer, you see there were whispers echoing through the castle, rumors about the chamber being opened and Slytherin's monster being let loose. The narratives painted the beast as though it was on a mission to cleanse the land of Hogwarts. One unfortunate student lost her life during those attacks - caused a massive stir, oh believe me you, Hogwarts was never closer to being shut down!"

Sherlock had known about the existence of the Chamber of Secrets, of course. But the revelation that its dark history was repeating itself came as a surprise. He frowned, rearranging his understanding of the circumstances.

"Then what happened?" he pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing. Just as everyone thought Hogwarts was done for the attacks stopped," shrugged Cavill, wiping his greasy fingers. "No one quite knew why, but the headmaster at the time declared the death to be an accident. Not many swallowed his story, but it's true that no similar attacks ever took place after that. Well they did expel one student just before the attacks stopped - some say it was him who unleashed the monster."

"What do you say? Did the attacks stop because the perpetrator was expelled?"

Cavill confirmed, a grim undertone to his voice, "If you apply even a smidgen of thought, it's not hard to guess that expelled student had something to do with the dreaded Chamber of Secrets..."

Cavill now had Sherlock's undivided attention; he never expected to learn so much by attending an Apparation class.

"What was the student's name?" He questioned, his curiosity evident.

Cavill belched, though his eyes gleamed with anticipation. This was a tale he seemed to savor telling.

"I've always said that Dumbledore's not the best judge of character," Cavill laughed, before continuing "You see that's the strangest part of the story, the student that was expeled, the one thought to be Slytherin's heir - he never left the castle, even to this day he remains there..."

Cavill paused yet again, building tension before revealing the name he had been circling.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, Dumbledore's most steadfast devotee and suspected to have unleashed Slytherin's monster!"

Sherlock was genuinely taken aback upon hearing this familiar name. Gathering his thoughts, he demanded, his voice taking on a severe tone, "How did you know all of this?"

Cavill, by this time, was already slipping into a pleasant haze of inebriation, his eyeballs lolling.

"Because Rubeus Hagrid was my very classmate!" he slurred. "Decent fellow I thought, just a peculiar fondness for dangerous beasts. If it was him, I reckon he never meant any harm."

Sherlock, having gained the vital information he needed, tuned the old wizard out. The thought of Hagrid, doting and affable, being connected to the lineage of Slytherin, was tangibly jarring.

With Cavill's snoring filling the room, Sherlock rose from his seat. He pulled out the remaining tuition fee from his robe's pocket and placed it on the table. He couldn't say the day was worth this much galleons, but the insights he had gathered were truly invaluable. The money would hopefully sever any bonds that Cavill assumed to exist between them.

Exiting the cottage, Sherlock had no plans to return via floo powder. He went to the clearing where they had practiced apparition earlier that day. With a muttered incantation of "Apparate", he disappeared with the cold wind following his wake.

Sherlock found himself in the remoteness of a Hogsmeade alley. He discarded his faded disguise, slipped his glasses back into his pocket, and emerged onto the main thoroughfare.

No sooner had he taken a few steps than he ran into a troupe of professors. Professor Sprout inquired, her brow furrowing in curiosity, "When did you head out, Sherlock?" Professors Sinistra and Burbage stood nearby, their interest piqued.

"I had some matters to settle at the Owl Post Office," Sherlock replied coolly, the aloof persona he typically adopted at the school in place once more.

Sinistra, the Astronomy professor with star-speckled, dark skin, extended an invitation, "We're off for some tea at the Three Broomsticks, care to join us?" Sherlock found no reason to decline.

However, being a man of scarce words, Sherlock spent the next two hours nursing his tea under the half-hearted ambiance of the pub, only occasionally acknowledging Professor Sprout or the others. Upon seeing his chance, he found his way back to the castle. The hallway was teeming with younger students, completely oblivious to his somber mood.

Without heading to his office, Sherlock navigated his way to the end of the third-floor corridor where the stone gargoyle guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office. "I need to see Professor Dumbledore," he announced. The gargoyle seemed to hesitate, as if verifying the request with the person inside the office. A moment later, it stepped aside, allowing Sherlock to pass.

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