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

Chapter 73 Owl Post Office and Floo Fans
As Sherlock said, the students in Hogwarts have used Harry's Parseltongue as a vent because of their long-term tension and depression.

In just one noon, the news about the Defense Against the Dark Arts class spread throughout the castle, and everyone looked at Harry with strange eyes.

Even the Gryffindor students believed the rumors, and their attitude towards him obviously changed.

At lunch, Harry's roommate Dean walked up to him in fear.

"I'm sorry Harry! I accidentally dropped the bread on your bed a few days ago, I hope you don't hate me, I didn't mean it!"

Harry scowled, not wanting to look up at him at all.

This experience has happened many times since he came to the auditorium.

Many people who felt that they had offended him before ran over to apologize to him, hoping that he would forgive themselves, and did not want to be the next target to be attacked.

"Why can't they use their brains! Am I like that?"

After Dean left, Harry finally couldn't bear it and asked Ron and Hermione.

Ron drank the pumpkin juice in the glass, shrugged and said.

"By now you can see who is the true friend who trusts you the most."

Hermione comforted.

"Actually, as Professor Forrest said, they used you as a vent. After the people who were attacked in the school hospital wake up, they will know the truth."

Harry's mood didn't improve much because of her words, and he irritatedly destroyed the sausage on the plate with his fork.

At some point, Neville found him cautiously with a nervous face.

"I, I have something on my mind, something to tell you, Harry."

Harry said impatiently.

"Don't apologize to me Neville! You never offended me! I'm not that Slytherin heir, and I never opened the Chamber of Secrets and let the monsters inside come out to hurt anyone!"

"No, I am not"

At this moment, George and Fred sat down next to Harry with excited expressions on their faces, pushing away Neville who mustered up a lot of courage and wanted to say something to Harry.

"I heard you became a descendant of Slytherin, Harry!" George said excitedly, as if he took it for some fun.

Hermione looked at the back of Neville leaving in a panic, and said dissatisfied.

"You scared Neville away, he was trying to say something to Harry just now."

Fred waved his hand indifferently.

"He wanted to apologize to Harry and let Harry save him from death. He was by the side when we heard that Harry was Parseltongue just now. You didn't see his expression, but when we heard that Harry was Slater When Lin passed on, his whole face was as white as paper. I'm sure he must have been terrified and wanted to ask Harry for mercy."

The twins looked at each other at this moment.

"With such a distinguished status, you need a special pomp!"

"We are ready to be your attendants, Your Excellency the Great Heir of Slytherin!"

Seeing that George and Fred seemed to be planning to take advantage of Harry's pain, Ron frowned and said.

"It's not funny at all!"

But George and Fred had left happily, preparing props and ceremonies.

Harry didn't mind George and Fred's banter.

"At least they aren't afraid of me, aren't they? They probably just want to tell the whole castle in this way that the identity of the heir of Slytherin is as absurd as this joke."

After the Weasley twins made such a fuss, Harry's mood was also relieved.

Anyway, as long as the professors don't think he's the murderer, it doesn't matter what other people think.

Days go by like this.

Since Harry was identified as a descendant of Slytherin, there have been no attacks at Hogwarts.

The person who actually opened the secret room seemed to have disappeared from the castle and never appeared again.

Harry gradually got used to other people's cautious attitude towards him. He fantasized with Ron more than once, how he would accept the apologies from these people graciously when the truth came out.

Neville hadn't seen Harry since that time in the Great Hall.

Until one Saturday in February, a day off for students and professors.

Instead of correcting homework in the office, or going to the library to study advanced magical knowledge, Sherlock dressed neatly and walked out of Hogwarts Castle.

Because the coldest weather in January has just passed, the UK in February is still cold and windy.

Wearing the knitted hat that Professor McGonagall gave him at Christmas, and the sweater Mrs. Weasley knitted for him under the thick robes, Sherlock still felt a bit of chill on the way to Hogsmeade.

At this time, there were very few pedestrians on the streets of Hogsmeade, and most of them hid in the Three Broomsticks or the Pig's Head, enjoying the warm butterbeer and the warm fire.

But the destination of Sherlock's trip is not the bar.

He walked all the way to the other side of Hogsmeade, where the only official Ministry of Magic institution in the entire wizarding town, "Owl Post Office."

Once inside, he was greeted by a listless receptionist who asked where he should send the letter.

But Sherlock took out two Sickles directly from his pocket.

"I'm going to use the fireplace."

The young wizard at the front desk suddenly lost the desire to stand up from his chair.

He glanced casually, and after confirming that the money Sherlock gave was enough, he pointed to the back room of the post office.

"The fireplace is in the house. When using Floo powder, remember that a pinch is enough. Some people always think that this amount of money can use up half of the powder. I am the one who will be punished if I overdose."

He muttered, but didn't mean to get up to follow Sherlock and monitor how much Floo powder he used.

Sherlock walked into the room with the fireplace alone.

The fire was burning vigorously, making this small space warm, without feeling the slightest cold outside.

He pinched a pinch of green powder from the small box above the fireplace, sprinkled it into the fire, and at the same time clearly uttered a place name.

"Andrew Cavill's Cabin."

The original orange-yellow flame soon turned dark green, and then Sherlock tapped his face lightly with his wand, made some simple changes to his eyebrows and hairstyle, and took out another A pair of gold-rimmed glasses was worn on his face.

His whole demeanor changed suddenly, from a cool-faced handsome guy to a wizard who looked like a capable secretary in the Ministry of Magic.

After the preparations were completed, Sherlock walked into the fireplace, and the next moment, he disappeared into the fire.

(End of this chapter)