TL note: This chapter is possibly the worst I have ever seen and I would suggest just getting through it as quick as possible if you wanna read this chapter. It is dumb as hell.
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"Once is a coincidence, but what about the second time?"
Harry continued,
"When we had our first Quidditch training at the beginning of the school year, Malfoy had a conflict with us. Professor Cavendish happened to pass by, punished Malfoy, and then said, 'Have fun.'"
Ron, recalling that day through Harry's words, mumbled,
"Then it started raining that day, and it's been raining in that area of Hogwarts ever since. You basically train for Quidditch in the rain every time!"
Seeing Ron beginning to waver, Hermione still refused to believe that these events were related to anything Sherlock said.
"That can only be considered a coincidence. After all, the weather is inherently unpredictable; it's normal for it to go from sunny to suddenly rainy."
Harry's expression remained calm. He wasn't in a hurry to argue with Hermione, because the more he reasoned, the more he felt there was too much evidence suggesting Sherlock was some kind of ultimate jinx.
"Once or twice is a coincidence, but what about the third time? You must still remember my punishment by Professor Cavendish and what happened that afternoon, right? I was hit by a Bludger on the field and fell into the mud. I was out of sorts for the entire afternoon's training, and when I returned to the castle, Filch caught me bringing mud inside. I was punished to clean the first-floor corridor of the castle for a week, and when I returned to the dormitory, Ron's rat even pooped on my bed..." (TN:Wtf?)
The more he spoke, the stranger Harry's own expression became. With a peculiar look, he asked Ron and Hermione,
"Do you know what Professor Cavendish said to me before I left his office?"
Ron inexplicably grew a little nervous and subconsciously swallowed.
"He wished for you to have fun?"
"No—he wished me good luck that day!" (TN: This chapter feels bloody retarded.)
Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, whose expressions had become dumbfounded.
"And then there were the attacks on Justin and Colin, which you both know about. At first, we could say it was a coincidence, but one after another—can it still be a coincidence?"
The air suddenly fell silent. The three of them seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.
After a long while, Hermione suddenly shook her head.
"I don't believe it! I still can't believe it! Whether it's science or magic, there are always patterns to follow. Even the most unreliable prophecies have wizards who claim to see strange signs in tea leaves, crystal balls, or horoscopes. But what you're saying about Professor Cavendish being a jinx is completely inexplicable!"
Their voices had grown a bit loud, and some people in the common room had already begun to notice them. Hermione composed herself and lowered her voice.
"But it's still unbelievable!"
Harry, who had remained thoughtful during their argument, finally spoke.
"Actually, it's very simple to verify whether my guess is correct."
Ron and Hermione both turned to look at him. Harry met their eyes and said earnestly,
"Professor Cavendish is at Hogwarts right now. Why can't we test it?"
Ron's expression subtly shifted to excitement.
"You mean… test whether the professor is a jinx?"
"Exactly. We can go and test it. We don't need to prepare anything. Even if we're wrong, nothing will be exposed—it will just prove that these things really are coincidences."
Hermione hesitated.
"Isn't this a bit improper? We still haven't apologized to Professor Cavendish for deceiving him about the library pass yesterday."
"Once we catch the Heir of Slytherin, we'll definitely apologize to Professor Cavendish. Besides, we're not disrespecting him—we just want to investigate things thoroughly."
Harry's words eventually convinced Hermione.
Of course, while they were planning to test whether Sherlock was a jinx, their suspicion that Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin had not disappeared.
The Polyjuice Potion would take over a month to brew, and they had already begun preparing it in the first-floor girls' lavatory.
Meanwhile, while Harry and his friends were discussing testing a certain professor's "mouth," Sherlock himself was troubled by the Chamber of Secrets in his office.
Today, he had revealed to Dumbledore that the creature responsible was likely a Basilisk, but this didn't address the core problem.
The Basilisk was merely a weapon in the hands of the perpetrator. The real issue was identifying the mastermind who had opened the Chamber of Secrets and was controlling it.
However, Sherlock truly did not know who the Heir of Slytherin was.
He only knew that, in every major incident in the Harry Potter world, the mastermind was ultimately connected to Lord Voldemort.
The Chamber of Secrets incident should be no exception, but Sherlock couldn't figure out how it connected to the Dark Lord, who had only just begun to re-emerge.
Strictly speaking, Sherlock didn't need to be so concerned about the Chamber.
After all, no matter how dangerous the Basilisk was, it targeted students and was unlikely to threaten him directly.
But Sherlock could not bring himself to be so cold-blooded as to ignore it.
If events had followed the original storyline—where he had never come to Hogwarts—no one in the castle should have died because of the Chamber of Secrets.
But now that he was here, everything had changed.
Sherlock wanted to keep events under control as much as possible, ensuring that no one lost their life due to the changes caused by his presence.
He was, after all, a person with normal emotions.
This half-semester of teaching at Hogwarts had given him a genuine sense of connection to the students.
Even if it wasn't entirely voluntary, as their teacher, he hoped they would grow into upright individuals, with bright futures and happy lives—
—not lose their lives because of an unexpected disaster like the Chamber of Secrets.
Just as Sherlock was analyzing the situation in his office, trying to piece together a clue—
there was a sudden knock at the door.
Then Neville, looking incredibly pale and listless, cautiously walked into the office.