Chapter 6: Professor McGonagall's Visit

As the clock's hand struck promptly on 7 pm, Sherlock Forester cast a swift glance at his reflection in the mirror. His had face assumed a look of disgruntlement; appeased by his reflection, he nodded in satisfaction.

Barely a moment passed when the painting of the original owner's mother adorning the wall of his study erupted into another vehement tirade. Deciding not to remain there amidst the tumult, he reached out for his wand and picked up a book lying close by. With a swift move, he locked his study and paced towards the living room. Here, he surrendered himself to the plush comfort of the sofa and buried his head in the book.

The original owner was a man of restraint, concealing his true feelings even in front of revered characters like Dumbledore. He had deduced rather boldly, that his study, serving as his private sanctuary, wouldn't be open to any unwanted invasion from the outside world. This included the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall. Thus, he selected the living room as their meeting place.

At precisely 7:20 pm, the only sound Sherlock's ears picked up was not the anticipated footfall, but a sudden faint knocking sound. His visitor had arrived. Gathering a fortifying breath to quell the jittery butterflies in his stomach, Sherlock placed his book – one he had been engrossed in for some time yet had barely understood - onto the coffee table. With quick steps he rose from the sofa and went to open the door for his visitor.

The woman standing on the threshold was tall and imposing. A pair of elliptical glasses sat atop her nose, behind which gleamed shrewd eyes. Her curly, rebellious hair was neatly stacked atop her head. Swathed in a dark green robe, a Scottish plaid shirt peeped out from underneath. A pointed hat perched on top of her head marked her as anything but ordinary. Her face was a map of wrinkles, a testament of her age, branding her with an authoritative aura.

"Good evening, Sherlock." Professor McGonagall greeted him, using his given name, an indication of their closer relationship than commonly perceived. As he enveloped his features within a brooding veil and led McGonagall inside, he greeted her back, his voice mirrored his usual nonchalance and indifference.

"Good evening, Professor."

As she entered the living room, McGonagall failed to discern any incongruity in Sherlock's behavior, uninformed that she was in the presence of a completely different person. "You should venture outdoors more, Sherlock." she instructed him, sounding more like an admonishing mother. "Don't coop yourself up here all the time. Pay a visit to your father sometime, after all, he's the only family you have left." She sighed heavily and eased herself into the sofa, maintaining perfect posture.

Sherlock, who had previously been nervous, began to grow increasingly cautious upon hearing her words. He was particularly wary of the underlying familiarity between them, as he was ignorant of the original Sherlock's stance towards McGonagall. He swiftly realized the dangerous path he was treading, and decided to follow through with his previously decided strategy:

"You need not concern yourself with my habits, Professor. I can take of myself perfectly well." he retorted, maintaining his cold and detached demeanor, while revealing his building impatience. "You mentioned in your letter some progress in my discussion with Dumbledore? Has Professor Dumbledore changed his mind?" He decided to keep the question ambiguous rather than diving into specifics about his application to join the Order of the Phoenix. Sherlock knew that a rash disclosure could lead him astray, especially if he plunged into a topic not mentioned in the diary. Thus, he chose to steer clear of potential pitfalls and shifted the burden onto McGonagall.

McGonagall didn't suspect anything unusual about Sherlock's behaviors because his current attitude was an exact portrayal of the actual Sherlock she knew to be cold and distanced, his only enthusiasm being his sheer desire to obtain Dumbledore's acceptance. She let out a rare sigh and then looked back at Sherlock with a thin smile, "Professor Dumbledore has accepted your request to join the Order of the Phoenix. He's recognized your capabilities and your character."

At her revelation, a jubilant thrill coursed through Sherlock, and his features softened, betraying his joy. "Brilliant! I never doubted a man as wise as Dumbledore would accept my application." He cheered, before quickly reclaiming his indifferent facade, "But this news really didn't warrant a personal visit, Professor. A letter notifying me of the good news and the Order's meeting time would have sufficed."

Seeing him behaving like an immature child, McGonagall sighed and shook her head, then her demeanor turned serious as she continued "I must remind you, Sherlock. Being a part of the Order could be potentially prove to be very dangerous. It isn't as straightforward as joining a Hogwarts club." Her words were heavy with warning, "Especially this year, with all its surprises. Being a member of the Order requires you to accept that your life might be in danger, you might be facing death while on a mission."

Sherlock instantly registered the gravity of her words. Given that Harry Potter had just completed his first year at Hogwarts and the story of the Philosopher's Stone had come to an end, the lurking danger McGonagall cryptically referred to must be concerning Voldemort's looming return. After all, the prime role of the Order was to counter the Death Eaters led by the infamous Voldemort himself. Certainly, there was a risk, but at this point, it wouldn't have been plausible for him to forfeit the Order membership right in front of McGonagall. As per the original Sherlock's stubborn personality, he would have wished for nothing more than to die for his idol, Dumbledore. Declining the invitation was simply not an option.

Shouldering his resolve, Sherlock brushed aside his mounting concern. With a slight roll of his icy blue eyes, he replied tersely, "I am well-prepared, Professor McGonagall. If I had any qualms about the risk, I wouldn't have approached Professor Dumbledore with the application. If there's nothing more to discuss...."

Undeterred by his brusque behavior, Professor McGonagall showed no signs of leaving. Instead, she reached into her robes and withdrew a piece of parchment. "I bring another piece of good news, Sherlock," she announced. "Professor Dumbledore has also approved your application for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."

Sherlock, who was content and relieved with his successful performance up until this point, was left standing, frozen on the spot, the implications of McGonagall's latest revelation sinking into him.