When Charms Class ended, the three of them did not leave.Instead, they leaned against the windowsill, silently watching the orange-red sun slowly setting on the horizon.
The sunset glow was beautiful, but none of the three were in the mood to appreciate it.
They looked at the cloudless sky, their thoughts very complicated.
"So, doesn't that mean Professor Cavendish will never know for the rest of his life that he has a jinx?" Harry said.
"Whenever he doubts it, or someone reminds him, as long as he experiments with his jinx, it will always turn out exactly as he says. He will never be able to know what his jinx is like when he isn't doubting it."
Hermione pondered, shaking her head.
"No, this only happens because we reminded Professor Cavendish that he has a jinx. If the Professor himself starts to doubt it, no one knows what the result will be."
Ron appeared very pessimistic.
"Then will there ever be a day when the Professor suspects that something is wrong with him?"
The three of them fell silent again, watching the gorgeous sunset glow from afar, not knowing whether they were mourning the fact that Sherlock might never know the truth, or their future of getting along with Sherlock.
This silence lasted for a long time. After a while, Ron suddenly said out of the blue.
"Do you think we can use the fact that the Professor becomes a genie after being reminded about his jinx to fulfill some of our own wishes?"
His idea was very appealing, and even Harry was tempted.
Seamus's performance in class today gave them infinite confidence, making them feel that their Professor Cavendish was omnipotent in the genie state!
However, Hermione poured a bucket of cold water on each of them.
"Don't dream. Think about the conditions for Professor Cavendish's jinx to trigger. It requires what he thinks in his heart to be consistent with what he says for it to succeed. It must be the same in the genie state. It's not just about saying it; he must truly believe it in his heart."
Hermione stared at them.
"Do you think the wishes you want Professor Cavendish to fulfill are things he would truly believe?"
Ron and Harry were disappointed again.
Indeed, making Professor Cavendish believe that the Weasley family would become rich overnight, or that Harry's parents would come back to life—neither of these things could possibly be achieved.
Moreover, the probability of these two things was too low, far lower than the probability of Seamus performing exceptionally well in one Charms Class, basically equal to zero.
Especially Harry's wish.
The three of them finally returned to the dormitory with complicated feelings.
The discovery from testing Sherlock didn't seem to change their lives, but it also seemed to have changed something.
Meanwhile, Sherlock, having finished grading the last exam paper for the sixth years, shook his stiff neck, stood up from his chair, and jumped in place to stretch his body.
Inadvertently, he glanced at the sunset fading into darkness outside the window and remembered Harry and the others coming to him this morning, saying they wanted to conduct some kind of jinx test.
He looked at the cloudless sky and said to himself.
"I knew I couldn't have any Jinx; it's just nonsense."
...
Time came to the week before Halloween.
This weekend was the day of the first Hogsmeade weekend of this semester, and Professor McGonagall was collecting permission slips from third-year students.
Only students who had received parental approval and had the permission slip signed could leave the school on the weekend to spend a pleasant day in Hogsmeade.
Ron and Hermione's parents had both signed their permission slips; only Harry had not.
Thinking about his experience during the summer, Aunt Petunia could never possibly sign her name on the permission slip.
Encouraged by Ron, he even tried to beg Professor McGonagall, but the impartial Professor McGonagall certainly did not agree to his request, especially with Black outside; no one could guarantee Harry's safety.
"You really should go find Professor Cavendish and ask him, 'Professor, do you think I can still go to Hogsmeade this weekend without a parent permission slip?'"
Ron performed vividly.
"The Professor will definitely say, 'Oh, Harry, I think that is impossible. Professor McGonagall will not violate school rules for anyone.'"
"Then with the Professor's words, you will definitely go to Hogsmeade with us in some way, maybe some kind of magic, or maybe Professor McGonagall will make an exception!"
Harry pulled a long face; he was not moved by the plan Ron was talking about.
"Don't dream. We have already asked the Professor to cooperate in so many experiments. I'm afraid before I even finish asking half of my question, Professor Cavendish will kick me out and tell me to go play somewhere else."
"But we must think of a way. We can't leave you alone at school, right?"
Hermione said with a frown.
"I think it might not be a bad thing for Harry to stay at school. He is safest staying in the Castle."
Because Hermione had a new pet cat, Crookshanks, this year, which had always shown obvious hostility towards Ron's rat, Scabbers, their relationship was very bad right now.
"On Hogsmeade weekend, there are so many people in that town. As long as Black has any brains, how could he possibly make a move on Harry!" Ron argued. "You never care about others' feelings! Harry himself really wants to go out!"
Although Harry really wanted to go out, he didn't want to see his two friends arguing.
In the end, on the day of the Hogsmeade weekend, he stayed at school alone.
He was wandering boredly in the corridor, just thinking about whether to go to Sherlock's office to see what he was doing, when the Witch wearing a Black robe, with a large hood covering half her face, suddenly swept past him.
Harry was stunned as he looked at her back.
This was the second time this semester he had seen this strange Witch in the Castle; the last time was in the Great Hall on the first day of school, when she left with Sherlock.
Only now did Harry belatedly notice that she had walked out of a room on this floor.
That is to say, she had actually been living at Hogwarts all along!
But the semester had been going on for almost two months, and Harry had never seen her go to the Great Hall to eat, nor had he seen her walking around.
His intuition told him this Witch was very strange, so he subconsciously followed behind her, wanting to see what she was going to do.
From the fifth floor all the way to the third floor, looking at the direction she was heading, Harry had already guessed that she must be going to find Sherlock again.
He thought of what Hermione had said when he first saw this Witch.
Sherlock had other things to be busy with this semester, and these "other things" were very likely related to this Witch!
Hilke noticed Harry from the moment he started following her.
But she didn't expose him or make any other moves; instead, she walked straight to Sherlock's office.
Sherlock was in his office holding a magic book, studying the Vanishing Spell. Seeing Hilke knock and walk in, he raised an eyebrow.
"It took so long to come find me. Did they reply to you?"
Hilke's words remained brief.
"The location of the Goblin underground headquarters."
Sherlock stood up from his chair, picked up his robe from the coat rack beside him, and put it on.
"Where do you think it is hidden?"
"Possibly."
They walked out of the office, and then Sherlock saw Harry, who was hastily hiding behind the wall, at a glance.
He instantly guessed why Harry was here.
Sherlock sighed helplessly.
"Did he follow you here?"
Hilke nodded gently.
Sherlock walked straight to the corner, grabbed Harry by the back of his collar, and dragged him out.
"It's the weekend, why aren't you going to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione, and instead, you're here stalking?"
Hearing his words, Harry said with great grievance.
"No one signed for me, and Professor McGonagall won't let me out."
"So you stalked? I see that back at Hogwarts you haven't changed your ways, and you've forgotten everything I taught you before."
Sherlock tapped his head and shooed him to the side.
"Go find someone else to play with. Lupin is not bad; he should be in his office right now trying to figure out how to get a Grindylow to teach your class."
Harry didn't leave immediately, but looked at Hilke and then at Sherlock.
"Then what are you going to do?"
Sherlock glared at him.
"Do we need to report to you what we are going to do? Are you Professor Dumbledore or Minister for Magic Fudge?"
Harry finally left, full of curiosity.
He knew it was best not to pry into some things, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, so he had to force himself to obediently listen to Sherlock and go to Lupin's office to find him.
"He is very different."
After Harry left, Hilke looked at his back and actually took the initiative to say a sentence, which was rare.
Sherlock shrugged.
"Of course he is different; the future of the entire Wizarding World depends on him."
"Let's go, let's go see that Goblin underground headquarters you mentioned. Hopefully there will be..."
"Shut up."
Sherlock looked helplessly at the Witch who had rudely interrupted him and was now walking in front, and could only follow from behind.
"I say, you people are really something. At least have some manners. Do you know it's not good to interrupt others while they are speaking?"
They left from the Hogwarts gate, and Dementors were still lingering near the school.
Although they hadn't seen Black for two whole months, they were still patiently waiting here, waiting for him to walk right into the trap.
Arriving at Hogsmeade, the town was now full of students who had come out.
This day of the Hogsmeade weekend was always the liveliest time for this wizarding town. The famous candy shop in the entire British Wizarding World, "Honeydukes," was overcrowded, and Sherlock even saw Ron in the crowded crowd.
At Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, he saw Percy. He was inside on a date with a girl. Through the shop window, Sherlock clearly saw the girl he was kissing; it was the Ravenclaw female prefect, Penelope Clearwater.
They seemed to be in the passionate stage of love, inseparable every day.
"Your hobbies are very unique," Hilke said out of the blue.
Sherlock was stunned for a moment, then realized what she was talking about.
"What are you thinking? Those two inside are my students!"
Just as Sherlock was proving his innocence, a surprised female voice sounded in front of him.
"Professor Cavendish?"
Sherlock looked at the source of the voice; it was Hermione.
She was holding a stack of Parchment in her arms, looking at Sherlock and the others with surprise on her face.
"Hermione? You bought a lot of Parchment?"
"Yes, Professor. I originally wanted to buy it at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, but that shop seemed to have had some accident before. Now the shop has been transferred, and although it still sells stationery, it has been renamed Barnes Quill Shop. Maybe the owner of the shop next door bought it..."
As Hermione spoke, her gaze kept fixed on Sherlock and Hilke, and she also glanced from time to time at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop next door, which was a famous lovers' sanctuary.
Sherlock noticed her little movements and couldn't help but say speechlessly.
"Don't think nonsense. I came out this time for work. This is Ms. Hilke from the German Ministry of Magic."
Hermione's face showed a look of realization. She was not a fool like Harry and Ron; after Sherlock's simple introduction, she didn't misunderstand anything anymore.
She bowed her head.
"Then I won't disturb you, Professor. I'll go find Ron first. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
There were indeed many students in Hogsmeade today. In just this short while, Sherlock had already run into three familiar students.
They arrived next to the Hogs Head Inn. This bar was still very quiet, and basically no students would choose to come here for a butterbeer.
Whether it was the environment or the price, The Three Broomsticks Pub on the other side seemed more suitable in every way.
On the streets of Hogsmeade, Sherlock didn't find the stray big Black dog either; it seemed to have already left this wizarding town and run off somewhere else.
"Aren't you calling your two German colleagues this time?" Sherlock asked curiously.
Hilke shook her head.
"We are not colleagues; they have their own tasks."
"Then how are we going to enter that underground headquarters? Where is the entrance?"
Sherlock asked, rubbing his chin and looking at the building in front of him.
Hilke was silently looking at the counter behind the dirty window of the bar. The dirty old man who had kicked them out last time was now behind the counter, wiping a glass with a dark rag.
"In the hall of this bar."
Sherlock followed her gaze and also saw the wooden counter.
"You mean that place by the counter?"
"Yes."
"That's tricky," he frowned. "It definitely won't work during the day. We have to wait until night to come back, or just go in and rent a room."