Hogwarts: Lacus doesn't want to be a witch who destroys nations.

The oak table in the Leaky Cauldron was marked with a shallow dent from Holmes' revolver, the brass barrel reflecting the dim light from the bar counter, making the doubt in his eyes even sharper.

"Mr. Holmes, the Secrets Act doesn't seem to restrict the display of magical items." Lux ignored Tom's impatient look, placed the wicker basket on the table, and took out the shiny rubber duck from her bag. "So, you said you wanted evidence, then I'll show you the evidence. But let me make it clear beforehand, this isn't some 'Gypsy hoax,' but a world you've never encountered before."

Holmes raised an eyebrow, pulled a brass magnifying glass from his vest pocket, then a leather notebook and a pencil, behaving like a typical detective, as if he were about to disassemble the rubber duck in front of him into parts at any moment. "I want to see what world rules can make this toy defy the laws of physics."

Lux picked up the rubber duck and handed it over, deliberately slowing down her movements: "Try squeezing its belly."

Holmes took the duck with suspicion, and when his fingertips touched the rubber surface, he even squeezed it to make sure there were no hidden buttons or mechanisms. Following Lux's instructions, he gently pressed the duck's belly, but the next second, the rubber duck suddenly opened its orange-yellow beak and bit his index finger hard with its tongue, which had tiny barbs.

"Ugh!" Holmes' pupils contracted sharply. He instinctively tried to throw the rubber duck away, but the duck's beak seemed to be welded to his finger, only making a strange "clucking" sound.

The bitten finger didn't hurt, but the duck immediately sprayed colorful bubbles from its rear end after biting the person.

Rubber ducks with rainbow farts add color to your bathing experience, Lux Select.

"There's no mechanical structure inside, no spring," Lux said with a grin, reaching out to pinch the duck's neck and giving it a gentle twist before the rubber duck released its grip. "Check your fingers again; there are no teeth marks or chemical residues. This is a magical artifact, powered by wizard magic, not by Muggle mechanical principles."

Holmes stared at his intact index finger, then examined the rubber duck over and over again three times. His pencil flew across his notebook as he jotted down notes: "Rubber product, no mechanical structure, capable of active biting, non-harmful, possibly biological characteristics?" He paused, then looked up at Lux, his eyes less suspicious and more inquisitive.

Holmes was always tolerant of knowledge, because this rubber duck was indeed made of only rubber.

Lux took out the slug-covered handkerchief, unfolded it in front of Holmes, and waved it in the air. The next second, a dozen slimy, wriggling slugs fell out of the handkerchief and landed on the table with a "plop plop" sound.

Holmes' pupils dilated as he watched as Lux swept the slugs back into the handkerchief, only to have new slugs emerge when she unfolded it again, as if the handkerchief contained an insatiable nest of slugs.

"This is impossible," Holmes's voice finally betrayed disbelief as he examined the handkerchief's fibers with a magnifying glass. "No lining, no hidden pockets, not even a trace of any biological eggs. Where did these sticky insects come from?"

"That's how things are with magic," Lux said, folding her handkerchief as the slug vanished instantly. "Just like how no one else discovered this bar, the rules of the magical world are different from what you perceive them to be."

Lux abruptly changed the subject, her tone becoming serious. She leaned close to Holmes's ear and whispered, "But now, you must accept this fact, because in five minutes, the wizarding police, the Aurors, will be here. They are responsible for maintaining order in the magical world, including erasing Muggles' memories of magic."

Holmes's finger paused on the notebook: "Erase memory?"

“Yes, with a forgetting charm,” Lux nodded, deliberately lowering her voice, “They’ll make you forget everything you saw today, forget the Leaky Cauldron, forget the rubber duck and the slug. You’re investigating a case, right? I’m afraid that memory will also become a blank. And the wizarding world is very tense right now.”

She glanced meaningfully at the bar entrance. "There's been some trouble going on in the European wizarding world lately. His 'Saints' are killing people everywhere, and the Aurors are tracking them down every day. They don't have time to waste on Muggles like you who just wandered in. If you don't cooperate, they might use even stronger spells, and you might not even remember who you are."

A forgetting spell? A selective memory erasure method that works on the cerebral cortex? Through a drug or some kind of sound wave frequency?

None of that matters, but these methods will undoubtedly damage one's brain. The girl in front of me did show some things that defied common sense. Although it doesn't prove the existence of magic, at least she is sincere, regardless of whether she has been brainwashed or is a fraud under the guise of magic.

Holmes's immediate priority was to get out of there.

After all, he came to London not to watch the spectacle, but for that strange letter, a letter from the dead. He stared into Lux's eyes, trying to find traces of lies in those blue eyes, but all he saw was honesty.

Finally, Holmes slowly closed his notebook, put the magnifying glass back in his pocket, and asked, "How should I cooperate?"

"It's simple." Lux smiled. "When the Aurors arrive, I'll pretend to cast a forgetting spell, and then you'll act as if you're affected by the spell, stare blankly, and say, 'I think I've gone the wrong way,' and then obediently leave. They won't investigate further; after all, the Saints' affairs are more of a headache for them right now."

A series of hurried footsteps sounded at the bar entrance, and two men dressed in dark wizarding robes entered. Their robes were stained with mud, and jeweled wands were clipped to their waists; the silver badges on their chests gleamed coldly. "We've received a report of a Muggle witness!"

Upon hearing the sound, Lux immediately drew her wand, condensing a point of light at the tip. "Emptiness!" Just then, the Auror who had just entered witnessed this scene.

A tall, stern-faced Auror stood before them, his companion warily blocking the doorway. The tip of the tall Auror's wand glowed faintly, and his voice was cold and businesslike: "Sir, please explain how you got here?"

Holmes's face instantly switched to a bewildered expression mixed with a slight headache. He looked around somewhat sluggishly, his empty gaze sweeping over the strangely dressed guests and the flickering fireplace flames before finally settling on the Auror.

"Where...where am I? I...I remember being near Charing Cross...and then..." He frowned, rubbing his temples hard, as if trying to recall but to no avail. "...What happened? Who are you?"

“You’ve gone the wrong way, sir,” another Auror said dismissively. “Listen, this is a private club, members only. You’ve obviously gone the wrong way. Now, go out here, turn left, and walk straight down Charing Cross Road. You’ll be back where you know you. Understand? Forget everything here. Just think of it as a strange dream.”

Holmes nodded in confusion, turned and walked out. As he passed Lux, he quickly slipped her a card, his movements very discreet.

Lux glanced down and saw that the business card read "Sherlock Holmes," with a line of smaller print on the back: "221B Baker Street."

The Auror guarding the door glanced at Holmes for a moment before quickly looking away, clearly not taking this Muggle seriously.

"Boss Carter," the leading Auror's voice was impatient, "a Muggle has broken in. What's going on?"

Boss Carter rushed forward: "The Oblivion Charm at Charing Cross Road must have failed. This gentleman accidentally wandered in; we didn't let him see anything!"

The towering Auror swept his gaze across Lux's youthful face, a hint of obvious impatience flashing across his expression. He lowered his voice, speaking with a heavy East London accent, and complained to his companion, "Another accidental stumble? Why does the damned Entrance Concealment Charm keep malfunctioning lately? News from Berlin says Grindelwald's minions have caused massive chaos in northern France again. The whole of Wizengamor is on edge… And they're making us deal with this Muggle mix-up? What a waste of time!"

"And you, little Hogwarts brat! Underage wizards aren't allowed to cast spells here. Although that Forgetfulness Charm seems to be quite effective, I'm still going to tell your headmaster about your casting spells on Muggles."

Lux's smiling face fell again. How could skipping school result in points being deducted?!

The tall Auror seemed exhausted by the pressure coming from Berlin and had no interest in investigating Lach. He waved his hand as if shooing away a fly: "Alright, alright, that's all. You should leave now and don't wander around like that again."

He said to the Auror guarding the door, "Let's go. We still need to check out the other side of Knockturn Alley tonight. I heard that several shops have stocked up on dark magic items of unknown origin, and the source might be related to Eastern Europe... Damn Grindelwald, he's stirring up trouble throughout the entire European wizarding world!"

The two Aurors left in a hurry, not even glancing at Tom and Lux. Their minds were entirely focused on Grindelwald's influence. Although Grindelwald had never been to England, it didn't mean his cult wouldn't carry out some secret activities. The Aurors simply didn't have the energy to deal with these trivial matters.

The atmosphere in the bar finally relaxed, but Tom suddenly spoke, his tone icy: "I'm leaving."

Lux hesitated for a moment: "Go? Back to the orphanage?"

"No," a glint of ambition flashed in Tom's dark eyes, "I'm going to Little Hangleton." He had already mastered basic magic, controlled snakes, and could even vaguely sense his own obsession. He needed greater power, and the Gaunt family might be his breakthrough.

"You're going alone? Isn't it dangerous there?" Lux frowned. Although she didn't know what was there, she had a feeling that something was wrong with Tom's trip.

"Danger?" Tom chuckled, a faint green glow emanating from his fingertips. "Power is forged in danger. That Muggle gave you something, didn't he? If you're going to see that Muggle detective, go by yourself. Don't bother me." With that, he turned and walked out of the Leaky Cauldron, heading in the opposite direction from the orphanage.

Lux watched his retreating figure and sighed helplessly. The system's hints were too vague. If she followed Tom to Little Hangleton, there wouldn't be enough time to see Sherlock Holmes. But if she let him go, she didn't know if this was the starting point for Voldemort.

She can't possibly stop Tom's future development just because he'll become the Dark Lord now. If Lux suppresses Tom too much, the Dark Lord might be born prematurely.

If all else fails, wait until Tom goes back to school and then give him a good beating. Lux vaguely remembers that Tom's starting point was making Horcruxes. As long as she can stop the appearance of Horcruxes, there's no need to keep bothering him all the time. If all else fails, she can ask Dumbledore for help.

And that's Sherlock Holmes!

Lux managed to convince herself that everyone chooses their own path, just like her decision to go find Sherlock Holmes.