It's just a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Chapter 203 Founder's Relic
Looking at the petrified Bowtruckle, Sherlock froze.

He recalled the invincible state just now, and immediately used the explosion spell, stun spell and dancing spell as soon as he thought about it.

Then I thought about it again, and all the effects of these spells were erased.

Of course, he couldn't achieve that effect now, but he didn't need a magic wand, and he didn't even have the magic beam after it took effect. He just moved his lips and chanted the spell, and it immediately took effect on the intended target.

This made Sherlock himself feel an incredible feeling about himself.

Although he was able to use control magic to use some simple transfiguration and small spells before this, wizards with a little strength can do these without a staff and without a sound.

Now this petrification spell is different.

I searched through the entire history of magic, but I couldn't find any wizards who could use magic to such an extent.

In this disguised form, it can be regarded as the point where words can't be followed!

Sherlock thought about it, and said the spell again.

"Stop the curse."

The moment his incantation fell, the motionless Bowtruckle on the branch returned to normal.

It seemed to be frightened, and after being able to move normally, it quickly rushed to the top branch, condescendingly staring at Sherlock with its small eyes.

Sherlock didn't pay attention to its emotions, but turned to stare at a dead tree for some unknown reason.

"To pieces."

"boom!"

The spell took effect immediately, and the dry tree trunk shattered on the spot, sawdust splashed everywhere, but there were still large pieces of broken wood that fell to the ground.

This shattering spell allowed him to more intuitively see the strength of the spell using control magic.

Very weak, even weaker than when he casts spells with a control magic wand.

And the consumption is still very high, just a petrification spell, a general unraveling spell and a shattering spell, already made Sherlock feel tired.

Obviously, such means cannot be used more often.

But even so, it still made Sherlock very excited.

He is very clear about the meaning of this method, the most difficult thing is the process of creating something from scratch.

Whether it is strong or not is one thing, but whether it will be strong or not is another.

Besides, there must be other Horcruxes waiting for him in the future, and the room for improvement of this ability is extremely huge.

Sherlock was in a good mood, sat in front of Eddie's grave and chatted with him for a while, saying something similar to "Don't worry, I'll take care of your daughter for you in the future", "I haven't forgotten about avenging you, sooner or later One day I will send her down to let you see how miserable she is" or something like that.

The sun gradually fell into the sky.

Seeing that it was getting late, he got up from the ground, snapped his fingers casually, muttered "clean up" to clean up the dirt on the robe, picked up the cracked gold cup and walked out of the Forbidden Forest.

Back at Hogwarts Castle, Sherlock went straight to Dumbledore's office and put the broken gold cup in front of him.

"This is the second one."

Dumbledore stared deeply at the golden cup, and saw its origin at a glance.

"A relic of Helga Hufflepuff."

"It is said that the four founders of Hogwarts left their most precious relics, Gryffindor's sword and Hufflepuff's gold cup. What are the remaining two?" Sherlock asked.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"No one knows this except for the descendants of the two founders, but the relic of Ravenclaw may be the crown that can bring wisdom to people."

"You're guessing, since Riddle can make Hufflepuff's gold cup into his Horcrux, it's not necessarily impossible for him to do the same with the other two unknown relics."

With his wisdom, of course he can think of going with Sherlock.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Especially because he himself is a descendant of Slytherin."

Dumbledore tapped the back of his left hand lightly with the fingers of his right hand and said softly.

"I'm going to visit Tom's hometown in a while."

Sherlock asked in surprise.

"Does he have family members alive?"

Dumbledore seemed to recall something, and there was a hint of reminiscence in his eyes.

"He had an uncle alive before, but he was imprisoned in Azkaban because he killed three Muggles living in the same town, and finally he died of illness in that prison."

"But I think there should always be some discoveries in the place where his family lives. Are you interested in going to see it with me then? Sherlock."

He sent an invitation to Sherlock, but Sherlock didn't agree.

"Wait until you fix the time, I'm not sure if there is anything else going on behind me."

They chatted about something else before Sherlock left the Headmaster's office.

After he left, Dumbledore folded his hands on the table with an expression on his face that made it impossible to see any emotion.

"The founder's relic." He muttered softly to himself, and then suddenly said to the empty office, "Phineas, please help me to invite Mrs. Gray over."

In the portraits of previous principals on the wall, a thin old man opened his sleepy eyes, complained a few words, and then disappeared into the frame.

Summer vacation has officially begun.

Sherlock didn't take the Hogwarts Express back together, which would have cost him a whole day.

He directly used Apparition to come to the door of the house on Mulanhua Road. When he was about to take out the key to open the door, his eyes were suddenly attracted by a place.

It was the neighbor's yard, and Sherlock only lived at home for two months every year, so he had no interaction with the neighbors on both sides.

But he vaguely remembered that the hostess of the family on the left seemed to like red maple trees very much. Two trees were planted in the yard, and a swing was made for her daughter between the two trees. Very charming.

It is summer now, and the two red maple trees are flourishing, but the most notable thing is not the red leaves swaying in the wind, but the old windmills that are full of trees.

Sherlock looked at those very familiar windmills without blinking, "hula la" rotating with the breeze, his mouth was opened wide, as if he saw something incredible.

"Does it look good?"

An extremely familiar voice sounded behind him.

Sherlock didn't look back, still staring at the windmill full of trees.

"How much did you pay for this yard?"

The owner of the voice tilted his head, thinking as if he was calculating a specific amount.

"Not counting tax and other expenses, the family received a total of about 20 pounds."

(End of this chapter)