Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 105 The more I struggle, the more excited I become
Harry and Ron seized the opportunity, exerted force with their feet, and rushed out before the vines of the Devil's Snare could entangle them tightly again.

Realizing they were safe, they immediately turned around and shouted to Hermione:

"Hermione, stop struggling! The more you struggle, the more excited it gets!"

"If you don't move, this thing will let you go!"

"I can not do it!"

Hermione responded angrily, her voice already filled with tears:

"Sherlock, I remember! It likes dark and humid environments. Hurry, get it away!"

"Dark and damp..."

Sherlock looked at the flustered Hermione and couldn't help but sigh.

The ability to withstand stress in emergency situations needs to be further strengthened.

"The flames are blazing!"

As Sherlock chanted the spell, blue flames leaped out from the tip of the wand.

The flames that spread out were scorching hot, and as soon as they appeared, they dispelled the thick, inky darkness around them.

As the surrounding environment was illuminated, the vines of the Devil's Snare seemed to have encountered a natural enemy and quickly retreated like a tide.

The vines that had been tightly wrapped around Hermione also loosened up and gave up their hold on her.

Hermione, who regained her freedom, staggered and fell forward uncontrollably, falling directly into Sherlock's arms.

Although Sherlock supported Hermione, he felt something strange.

Because until this moment, Hermione in his arms was still trembling.

Why is the reaction even stronger than the last time I encountered the giant monster?
It's just a Devil's Snare. With Hermione's knowledge and courage, she shouldn't be scared to this extent, right?
Harry and Ron looked at each other, confusion written all over their faces.

Although this plant is indeed troublesome and almost suffocated Harry just now, he is still frightened.

But Hermione's performance was a bit too exaggerated.

After a while, Hermione finally managed to calm down and got out of Sherlock's arms with a blushing face.

"Thank you."

She spoke softly, her voice as quiet as a mosquito.

Fortunately, Sherlock was there to prevent him from making a bigger fool of himself.

However, Sherlock looked at her with a serious expression.

"My friend, you still hold the wand in your hand. Since you already know that the Devil's Snare prefers dark and damp environments, I think you can definitely think of burning it with fire."

"I thought of it, but what I was thinking just now was that there is no firewood here..."

Hermione's voice gradually faded away until it was almost inaudible.

Sherlock:

Harry: ○|￣|_
Ron: (*￣rǒ￣)
The three of them had different expressions, and in the end, Ron couldn't help but want to complain:

"Are you crazy? Are you a witch or not?

'There's no wood here'—what nonsense! "

Sherlock: ←_←

Harry:

Hermione looked at the three people, clenched her fists tightly, her cheeks turned red, and said angrily: "Laugh if you want to, don't hold it in."

As soon as she said this, Ron burst out laughing: "Hahahahaha!"

He laughed so hard that he couldn't stand up straight.

Harry fared slightly better, covering his mouth with a hand to try and hide his laughter.

Sherlock didn't laugh, but the look he gave Hermione became increasingly strange, with his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he was thinking about something.

Seeing Ron laughing non-stop, Hermione glared at him fiercely, her eyes seeming to spit fire.

Ron's voice suddenly became quieter after being glared at by her, and he simply turned his back to her.

But judging from the way his shoulders kept twitching, it was obvious that he was having a hard time holding it in.

Seeing this, Sherlock shook his head, raised his arm and pointed forward, saying, "This way."

There is no need to waste time looking for the way because there is only this stone corridor in front of you.

Sherlock led the way, followed by Hermione and Harry, and Ron at the end.

The corridor was filled with a damp and moldy smell, and the walls were covered with green moss.

The four of them walked down the stone corridor. Apart from the sound of their footsteps, the only sound was the sound of water dripping slowly along the wall.

The ticking sound echoed in the silent space, like a monotonous melody.

At this point, Hermione finally calmed down and asked, "Why did you come here without waiting for me?"

"Time waits for us not."

Sherlock, who was walking in front, said without looking back, "We finally waited for Dumbledore to leave, Quirrell will never let go of this opportunity.

Our goal is to lure the snake out of its hole; we can't let the snake take the bait away."

At this point, he paused and said, "We need a thug, so Ron came along too."

"Well, you're right."

Hermione said gloomily, "I still haven't been able to see Headmaster Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall said he has gone to the Ministry of Magic..."

She didn't believe that Quirrell would steal the Philosopher's Stone, and she also told him not to say anything that was detrimental to unity..."

"Pfft~!"

"what are you laughing at?"

Hermione immediately looked at Ron with a sullen expression.

Ron coughed and said, "Nothing... I suddenly remembered something happy."

Hermione glared at him fiercely and continued to say to Sherlock:

"Professor McGonagall said that although I won't be punished this time, next time I'll not only be penalized but also have detention—I've never been put in detention before, it's so embarrassing…"

"Puff!" "Ronald! You're going too far. I've put up with you for so long!"

"I remember happy things."

"You were clearly laughing at me, and you never stopped!"

"Ron, Hermione, stop arguing..."

Harry's dissuasion had no effect until Sherlock said, "Quiet!"

He turned around and glanced at the three people's faces: "Shut up, you're disturbing my thinking!"

"..."

The four of them walked forward in silence, their footsteps echoing in the damp corridor, and the atmosphere was so oppressive that it made people feel a little breathless.

Finally, they reached the end of the corridor, and a brightly lit room suddenly appeared before their eyes.

Under the high vaulted ceiling, countless birds as dazzling as gems flapped their wings and flew happily.

The brilliant colors and agile postures seemed to turn the entire room into a dream world.

Having just experienced the dim environment, the four people were stunned when they suddenly saw this scene.

After a moment, Harry muttered to himself: "This is not a bird, it's a key that Professor Flitwick cast a spell on..."

There was a hint of surprise and sudden realization in his voice.

Because Sherlock had done his homework beforehand, and this time it happened to be a project that Harry was good at, he reacted instantly.

"But which one do we need?"

Ron couldn't help but ask.

His eyes were full of confusion. Finding the target among hundreds of keys was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Hermione walked quickly to the door, leaned over and carefully examined the lock, trying to find some clues.

"Well, I think it might be a silver key... and it's quite large..."

She muttered softly as she observed.

"then!"

At that moment, Sherlock had grabbed a broomstick from beside the locked door and tossed it to Harry with one neat motion.

Seeing this, Ron's face instantly lit up with excitement and he said loudly:

"Harry, you're the Seeker, it's up to you now!"

Hermione looked up in surprise, her eyes full of disbelief: "Sherlock, have you found it?"

You know, there are hundreds of keys here, and you may not be able to find them even if you look carefully. How did Sherlock do it?
"Sherlock?"

Harry was also confused. It was true that he was a seeker, but he had to see the target first!
"be prepared."

Sherlock simply said this before quickly pulling out his wand and pointing it at the flock of birds: "Portkeys coming!"

The next moment, they saw a key "whoosh" and fly towards them like an arrow.

Just as Hermione had said before, it was a huge silver key, emitting a sky blue glow all over, making it particularly eye-catching among the many keys.

As the key got closer, its shape became clearer and clearer.

Its wings drooped to one side, as if telling of its past experiences.

They could even imagine it being grabbed and roughly stuffed into the keyhole.

However, even though it was controlled by the spell cast by Sherlock, it was still struggling hard, and its struggle was getting faster and stronger.

Obviously, relying solely on Sherlock's spell to deal with this key is still somewhat insufficient.

If no action is taken, the cooked duck will fly away.

After all, it was a mechanism arranged by the Professor of Charms himself, and it was not easy for Sherlock to successfully cast the spell to summon it.

However, Sherlock had anticipated this and made preparations in advance.

At this time, Harry already knew what he had to do.

Despite carrying only an ordinary broom, he still demonstrated his prowess as the youngest Seeker in a century.

But Harry squeezed his legs hard, and the broom suddenly accelerated and rushed out like a black lightning.

With a sharp, unpleasant creaking sound, Harry succeeded in pressing the key into the stone wall.

Ron couldn't help but whistle, his face filled with excitement: "Harry, well done!"

"Thanks to Sherlock's flying spell, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to catch it so quickly."

Harry jumped off his broom and said without looking up as he excitedly opened the door with his key.

"That's right. I thought we needed to all ride on broomsticks to stop it. Hahahaha..."

Ron was grinning foolishly when Hermione suddenly said, "Ronald, are you a wizard or not?"

(ー`ー)
Women only know how to hold grudges!
Brothers are still the best!
With a slight "click", the door was opened by Harry.

Almost the moment they stepped into the room, the originally dark room suddenly lit up.

The glaring light made them squint subconsciously.

If it were just that, it would be fine, but the key point is that after entering the door, they found themselves next to a huge chessboard.

Standing before the four was a black chess piece taller than themselves, and across the room was a white chess piece of the same shape and size.

"Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration..."

Harry looked at Sherlock with some gratitude.

Thanks to his good brother, he was mentally prepared in advance, so he didn't tremble with fear when he saw these featureless, eerie chess pieces.

On the way here, Harry had given Ron a brief account of the test they would face.

So at this moment he couldn't help but look at Sherlock and expressed his opinion:
"Looks like we'll have to play chess to get to the other room—what do you think, Boss?"

"Try it first."

Sherlock thought for a moment, then cast a spell at the white chess piece opposite him:
"Thunderbolt explosion!"

(End of this chapter)