Chapter 17: Entering Hogwarts

Despite the stealthiness of the flying car, it did not escape the notice of several young wizards who vehemently debated over their sighting. However, this had little to do with Sherlock, who was peacefully ensconced in his compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

Confirming that there was no more he could remember about his future, he once again reached into his large, worn suitcase and extracted a third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

As he went through it, creating notes and outlines, he could see a rough lesson plan taking shape amidst the lines of text. Even though his knowledge was limited and the subtleties of magic were still unknown to him, he knew he needed to establish an inviting and effective learning environment.

Thus did the day unfold, the morning sun ambling its golden course toward the distant west, painting the canvas of time with hues of celestial grace. Sherlock found himself addressing his midday hunger with a simple piece of chocolate he purchased from the snack trolley, before immersing himself once more into fashioning his lesson plans.

The day quickly melted into the inky night, prompting an announcement from a train attendant that Hogwarts was a mere ten minutes away. Sherlock, rising from his seat, neatly packed his books and quill back into his suitcase. Then, he changed from his ordinary clothing into the formal wizard robes that befit his role as a professor of magic.

The chatter of young students was the herald of the train's impending halt. Sherlock exited the train amidst a crowd of young and eager wizards, his eyes gravitating towards a figure of colossal height awaiting their arrival on the weathered platform.

Addressing the throng of first-year students, this towering figure bellowed in a deep, enthusiastic voice, "First year students, this way!". The first-year students obediently followed, clustering around his large figure.

The towering "landmark" quickly spotted Sherlock in the crowd, and lumbered over jubilantly. "Ah, Sherlock! I heard you were coming to teach at Hogwarts, but I never thought you'd arrive by train!" boomed the unmistakable voice of Hagrid, Hogwarts' ever reliable Keeper of Keys and Grounds.

After all, this is Hogwarts, the place where the original master spent seven years studying. He may not have many friends, but he will certainly have one or two acquaintances. The other professors at Hogwarts will also know him.

With a beaming smile, Hagrid swooped down, enveloping Sherlock into a bear-like hug that paled all other embraces Sherlock had experienced before. Peeling himself out from the mighty hug, Sherlock drawled, "Professor McGonagall happened to give me a ticket, I thought I might as well make use of it."

Sherlock wasn't too surprised to see Hagrid greet him so enthusiastically, seeing as Professor McGonagall and the Weasleys all treated him kindly due to their relationship with his mother it wouldn't be surprising to see the other members of the Order of the Phoenix acting the same way.

And after all, this was Hogwarts, a place where the original host spent seven years studying. Perhaps he didn't have many friends, but he must have had one or two acquaintances, and the other professors at Hogwarts would certainly know him due to his outstanding achievements.

Having overheard their exchange, the first-year students trained their curious eyes on Sherlock. Gleaning from Hagrid's excitement that Sherlock would be a professor, they eagerly tried to guess the subject that this mysterious, tall man might teach.

In the meantime, Hagrid cheerfully advised Sherlock, "You best hurry up to the castle then; Dumbledore awaits you in the Great Hall." With a wave, Hagrid led the first-year students towards a small path that led into the adjacent forest.

Sherlock followed the older students, his next destination lay behind a fleet of horse-drawn carriages, each pulled by eerie, skeletal horses with large, meaty wings.

This marked the first time the second year students experienced this mode of transportation, though only few saw anything but carriages driving all by themselves.

"Can you see the Thestrals, Professor Forester?" queried Hermione Granger, looking up from beside him. (E/N: Literally makes no sense, bc she didn't know about Thestrals yet but ok)

In that instance, snippets of knowledge danced in Sherlock's mind. Thestrals were creatures that could only be seen by those who had witnessed death. Sherlock has never seen any scenes of human death, no matter if it was his previous life or through time travel here. The only explanation for why he could see them, that he could think of was, that he, in a way, witnessed his own death.

In response to her question, Sherlock simply noted, "Seeing such a creature is never a good thing," his aloof exterior hiding a thoughtful person beneath.

Hermione saw Sherlock's performance in Diagon Alley, and knew that Sherlock's character was not really as cold as he appeared on the surface, but was actually a very nice person. She huffed, as she boarded a carriage with Sherlock and remarked, "Harry and Ron are far too reckless. They only think about having fun and don't realize their bullheaded antics could bring massive troubles for Ron's dad!"

Sherlock was quite interested in chatting with this little girl. Compared to Harry and Ron, who seemed to him to be simple mischief-makers, Hermione was obviously much more sensible and mature.

Sherlock replied, half-smiling, "I suppose if they were more thoughtful, they wouldn't be Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

After a short carriage ride together, they departed at the front gate of Hogwarts. Under the careful guidance of their prefects, the students began to walk towards the castle. Sherlock followed behind discreetly, careful not to lose his way amidst the labyrinth of Hogwarts.

When they reached the entrance to the Great Hall, he couldn't help but feel nervous.

Once he entered this door, he would meet the headmaster of this magical school, one of the most powerful figures in the entire story and the most cunning person (from the subjective impression obtained from the movie reviewers).

Whether he would reveal any flaws or be caught in a trap depended on whether he could pass this test. Sherlock took a deep breath and followed the students into the grand hall.

In the center of the hall were four long tables, and the young wizards who entered here sat at different tables according to their respective houses.

Thousands of candles floating in the air illuminated the dining hall, and the four tables were adorned with glittering gold plates and tall goblets. At the head of the hall, there was another long table, which was reserved for the teachers.

When Sherlock looked over there, the professors of Hogwarts sitting at that table were also looking at him. Among them, in the middle seat, was an old man with a large bunch of white beard and peculiar half-moon-shaped glasses.

The old man, who looked as amiable as a friendly neighbor, smiled and met Sherlock's gaze, waving at him at the same time.