Hermione had already forgotten how she'd walked out of Sherlock's office.
She couldn't even recall whether she'd said goodbye to him when she left.
It wasn't until she reached the corner of the third-floor corridor and Harry and Ron called out to her that Hermione snapped out of her trance-like state.
Harry could see something was seriously wrong; he asked anxiously,
"Did Professor Cavendish realize we were testing him?"
Ron, thinking along the same lines, waved a hand with forced nonchalance.
"So what if the Professor found out? We weren't doing anything bad. At worst he'll make us scrub the toilets for detention."
Hermione drew a deep breath, steadying herself, then spoke in a heavy voice.
"No, he didn't catch us. The third test was a complete success—I've confirmed that the Professor's jinx isn't guaranteed to trigger."
"There must be a probability threshold. His jinx takes events that already have a chance of happening and pushes their odds sky-high."
"But if the original likelihood is extremely small—like the test we ran today—"
"I'd left only two lines of holiday homework unfinished, so the chance of completing it was already close to one hundred percent."
"Even when the Professor said he believed I'd finish, the jinx couldn't affect me, because I was absolutely certain I'd get it done."
"By the same token, the sun rises in the east almost every day with near-certainty; his jinx can't influence something already that probable."
"So we no longer need to worry that the world will end because of Professor Cavendish's jinx."
Harry and Ron listened with wide eyes; the probability talk went over their heads, but they understood the final sentence.
Blinking in bewilderment, they still couldn't grasp why Hermione looked the way she did.
Harry couldn't help asking,
"If the world's not in danger, why do you look like doomsday's tomorrow?"
At that question, Hermione's face twisted as if she'd bitten into a bitter gourd.
In a voice close to tears, she said,
"Because at the end, Professor Cavendish said… he wished me a pleasant Christmas holiday!"
The moment the words left her lips, the air seemed to freeze.
Ron's face contorted in horror; his mouth hung open as he gazed at Hermione with growing anguish, as though she might be taken from them tomorrow.
He groaned,
"We're doomed—completely doomed! That's more vicious than any curse in legend—and there's no counter-spell!"
Harry stood rooted, but as a former victim himself, he kept his head and quickly comforted her.
"It'll be all right, Hermione. I got hit by Professor Cavendish's curse once, and I'm still here, aren't I?"
Yet his reassurance did little good. Hermione, bright as she was, knew her situation differed entirely. Her eyes reddened as though she might truly cry.
"It's different for me, Harry… my parents are Muggles… and I'm the very target of the monster that came out of the Chamber. Justin and Colin were both petrified after his curse—I won't escape it either!"
Hermione's analysis was spot-on; after three tests, they all knew the terror of Sherlock's jinx.
Add to that the precedents of Justin and Colin, and even Harry lost his composure.
After racking his brains, he could only come up with one idea.
"Why don't we tell a professor everything? They could protect you over Christmas and maybe even use the chance to catch the attacker!"
None of them had a better plan; they could hardly sit by and watch Hermione be petrified.
Though the first two victims had survived, no one could guarantee Hermione would be as lucky.
Yet they disagreed over which professor to approach.
"Let's go to Professor Cavendish," Harry urged. "Tell him everything, including his near-infallible jinx. Once he understands, he'll help."
Harry trusted Sherlock deeply now; even though the man's blessing had once ruined his whole day, he knew Hermione's peril was entirely unintentional.
Ron trusted him too, but doubted he could keep Hermione safe.
"I say we find Professor Dumbledore—only he can guarantee her safety."
Hermione, sniffling, rejected the idea of going to Sherlock.
"We can't tell Professor Cavendish yet. His jinx only activates when he's unaware. If he learns the truth, no one knows what might happen to me; if it turns bad, I'm finished!"
Her reasoning convinced them; they resolved not to seek Sherlock but to reach Dumbledore instead.
Yet Dumbledore was seldom at Hogwarts; as the most renowned wizard in the wizarding world, he was usually away on unknown business.
To find him, they would first have to go through Professor McGonagall.
So the three of them hurried to her office and, all talking at once, spilled out the entire tale.
After nearly half an hour, Professor McGonagall managed to piece their story together and frowned at them.
"You claim Miss Granger has been cursed by Sherlock, just like Mr Finch-Fletchley and Mr Creevey, and will therefore be attacked by the monster in the Chamber?"
All three nodded anxiously, confirming that was exactly the situation.
Her frown deepened.
"And how exactly did Sherlock curse Miss Granger?"
Ron answered without hesitation.
"He wished Hermione a pleasant Christmas holiday!"
Harry added rapidly,
"Yes, Professor McGonagall! Justin got cursed when Professor Cavendish wished him a happy Halloween, Colin when the Professor told him good luck for the next day—now it's Hermione's turn; she's in danger!"
Professor McGonagall's face darkened.
"Nonsense! Have you three so much free time that you came here to waste mine? Leave at once—or I'll put you all in detention and dock Gryffindor twenty points!"