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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 · 作品衍生
分數不夠
176 Chs

Chapter 94: The Irreversible Decision

"Experience tends to be the harshest, yet the most effective teacher," Dumbledore began, his fingers threading around his wand. "That is the root of my disagreement with Kingsley and others who fervently insist on shielding you from life's harsh lessons. Some knowledge simply refuses to be conveyed through mere words; it is only in the crucible of personal experiences that they truly crystallize."

With a discreet tap of his wand against the polished desk, he conjured two cups of tea, steam curling from their brims, and pushed one towards Sherlock.

"How does your 'transformation' sit on your shoulders?" Dumbledore asked, his usual somber expression softened with curiosity.

For the first time around Dumbledore, Sherlock felt a wave of tranquility wash over him, he could finally relax, instead of being on edge every second spent in his presence. He drew a long sip from his cup, basking in the soothing warmth of the liquid. "I feel surprisingly confident, more at ease with myself than I've ever been."

A breath of a smile found its way to Dumbledore's lips. "I'm intrigued to hear the details."

Sherlock launched into a detailed recount of the day's happenings, skillfully sidestepping the discovery of the tome on "Soul Stitching" penned by his own mother. Instead, curiosity guided him towards the enigmatic mark on his left arm. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the crescent moon etched in his skin to Dumbledore. "It flared up painfully when I came across Riddle's diary in the bookstore, and again when I confronted a tainted Neville. What, may I ask, is this mark? Do you have any idea?"

Sherlock's revelation did not catch Dumbledore off-guard. His gaze rested upon the crescent moon, a glimmer of melancholy dimming his eyes. "It's your mother's protective charm."

"My mother's?" Sherlock echoed, his brows knotting together in confusion.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Much like Harry survived the devastating curse of Voldemort, not because he possessed any remarkable powers himself, but because his mother enveloped him in a powerful veil of protection at the cost of her own life. This mark of yours shares a similar origin. It emanates from your mother's love, the most potent magic known to us wizards, or rather I should say unknown to most."

Sherlock gazed at his own mark, a new sense of awe for it replacing his earlier confusion. It was akin to Harry's distinctive lightning bolt scar. "So, even now, you withhold the full truths about my parents, yes?"

Dumbledore simply nodded, "It's not about my unwillingness to reveal the truth, Sherlock. Some histories wound too deeply to remember, and we fear their revelation might inflict those wounds upon you as well. However, should a day come when you are relentless in your quest for the truth, there will be someone to fill in the missing pieces."

Dumbledore paused for a beat, a moment of silence stretching between them, before gently steering the conversation back on course. "Tell me, it was Neville who drew the sword from the Sorting Hat, was it not?"

Sherlock affirmed with a nod.

"It's interesting, I had initially thought Harry would be the most likely one to do so," he admitted with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, "but I hoped you would the one actually do so."

"Really, me?" A surprised Sherlock pointed a finger to himself. "And why might you have held such hope?"

"Do you recall the origins of the Sorting Hat?" Dumbledore inquired.

After a moment of pondering, Sherlock nodded, "Yes, it belonged to Gryffindor."

"And so did the sword, Sherlock," Dumbledore responded, his gaze shifting fondly towards the glass display case where the sword shimmered frostily.

"It was indeed Gryffindor's sword. It can only be drawn from the Hat by one who embodies his very qualities."

"Don't you remember? I'm a Ravenclaw!" Sherlock interjected in bewilderment.

"But the House one belongs to shouldn't set boundaries to the potential qualities they could espouse. I had hoped you would display the qualities of a true Gryffindor. Even though it didn't turn out as expected, I deem my decision to recruit you this year one of my best decisions."

After a moment of contemplation, Sherlock moved on to a more contentious subject. "The curse on the post of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, does it really exist?"

Dumbledore didn't hold back. "Indeed, it was cursed by Voldemort many years ago."

Sherlock measured Dumbledore with a penetrating gaze. "So, you were aware Lockhart was a charlatan when you appointed him?"

In lieu of a direct response, Dumbledore unspooled a strand of history to Sherlock. "Last summer, during one of my visits, I observed a chunk of memories missing from one of my acquaintances. Investigation led me to realize that our celebrated wizarding icon, Lockhart, was nothing more than a thief. He had been robbing others of their adventures through memory charms."

"Being unable to find another suitable Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at the time, I still decided to approach Lockhart. I theorized that such a charlatan would sooner or later unmask himself through his professorship at Hogwarts, serving as an invaluable lesson for our students."

"Though, persuasion wasn't easy. He was initially quite dismissive of my invitation. However, the prospect of being credited as 'the savior's mentor' due to Harry's fame eventually overwhelmed him to accept."

"Unfortunately, he was exposed before the school year even started, and enough evidence was discovered to take him to the Wizarding Court. Consequently, I was forced to set my plans aside and instead chose you for the post, Sherlock."

He then scrutinized Sherlock, a faint suspicion in his eyes. "I briefly wondered if you might be the whistleblower who exposed Lockhart, hoping to seize the opportunity and secure the post for yourself."

These suspicions left Sherlock in astonishment. Though he wasn't sure if the original owner had any hand in Lockhart's exposure, on hearing Dumbledore's suspicions, it did seem a possible theory.

Irrespective of the events that had transpired, Dumbledore continued, "The fact that you decided to join Hogwarts has been far from disappointing. Your probation period has ended, Sherlock. You are now officially the first Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to serve a consecutive term at Hogwarts for decades to come."

In view of Slughorn's advice, Sherlock decided not to fuss over the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. For all he knew, as long as the holder possessed no malicious intentions, such a curse would not touch them.

Taking a deep breath, Sherlock broached the subject that had been gnawing at him since he had destroyed Riddle's diary. "That diary of Riddle's was far from ordinary," he initiated, "and though it has been destroyed, more such resonate artifacts must be out there!"

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