Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

"... Lupin was a werewolf when Fudge saw that, he was taken aback and went to Dumbledore to ask why he hired a werewolf as a professor. Whether Dumbledore likes it or not, Lupin It is impossible to continue to hold the position of professor next semester."

He obtained the exact time from Hagrid, and at the same time learned about the three hours that he and Snape disappeared. After what happened, Sherlock couldn't help but sigh.

"If Lupin isn't here next year, I'll start to get busy again. It's a pity."

Hagrid also sighed. He had a good relationship with Lupin, and naturally he didn't want to see him leave Hogwarts in such an embarrassing manner.

But now his focus is not here, but looking at Sherlock suspiciously.

"I want to tidy up the cemetery before Miss Silk comes. What are you doing here?"

Hearing this question, Sherlock was silent for a moment, and after walking with Hagrid silently for a long time, he spoke softly.

"To meet a friend."

His answer made Hagrid even more puzzled, but he also saw that Sherlock was in a wrong mood, so he didn't ask any more questions, and took him to the depths of the Forbidden Forest.

Soon they came to a clearing.

The trees around the clearing were lush and rustled in the evening wind.

This was the second time Sherlock had seen the two graves in the middle of the clearing, and the names on the two tombstones seemed so conspicuous now.

【Eddie Butler】

【John Watson】

Sherlock stood at the edge of the clearing and silently looked at the grave with Eddie's tombstone carved into it.

Apart from his name, there is no life on it, nor the year of his birth and death, just three simple sentences.

[To stop those who bully the weak; to save those who suffer injustice; to maintain the order that should be maintained]

Sherlock didn't speak, just looked at the tombstone so quietly, the picture in his mind was when he seriously said these three words to himself at that dinner, in that restaurant.

Hagrid saw Sherlock's strangeness, but he was just a little nervous, not really stupid. He didn't choose to disturb Sherlock at this time, and was about to start cleaning the weeds in front of the grave.

However, just when he was about to start, Sherlock stopped him.

"Don't bother you Hagrid, let me do it."

Hagrid looked at Sherlock in amazement. He really couldn't understand Sherlock's actions now.

Obviously, he hadn't seen each other for less than a day. For some reason, he felt that the current Sherlock was a little different from the one he knew before.

"Okay, then I..."

"You go back to rest first, I want to stay here for a while alone."

Hagrid stood there for a while, and finally nodded hesitantly.

"Be careful here alone."

Sherlock nodded silently, Hagrid gave him one last look in confusion, and finally left the cemetery.

After Sherlock was the only one left here, he walked heavily to the monument engraved with Eddie's name, his voice full of helplessness and sadness.

"Why are you still dead after I leave?"

He sat directly next to Eddie's tombstone, as if Eddie was still alive, sitting beside him and talking to him, and friends were still chatting about homely things.

"Actually, based on your character, I can imagine such a result. For the broken Ministry of Magic, which is full of intrigue, you are paid a few Galleons every day. Why are you working so hard?"

"Okay, I'm a layman, I can't understand your ideals, you have a righteousness, and you can sacrifice yourself for the magic world, but you definitely didn't listen to what I said to you at the end, so why can't you do it for Amy? Think?"

"I know she was an accident. You didn't plan to be a father at all, but you have already done it, so why don't you take the responsibility?"

"Other wizards in the magic world are human, isn't your daughter her?" Gu

"You always say that you owe her, what's the use of talking about it? Have you made it up? I gave Amy's first gift to her, and I took her to go out for the first time. You are a father. what?"

"Oh, forget it, all of you are dead, I'll be a little careless if I nag you here again."

Sherlock stood up from the monument with a sigh, without using magic, he directly cleaned the weeds in front of the grave with his hands.

After dealing with this, he sorted out his emotions, and then stood in front of the tomb engraved with [John Watson], tilted his head and looked at the tomb that belonged to him.

To be honest, even if I use a pseudonym, I still have a strange feeling when I look at my tombstone.

There was no control magic to perceive what was buried in the ground, because at this time Sherlock had used Transfiguration to turn a branch into a shovel, and planned to dig the tomb himself.

Before digging, he had guesses, but whether the guess was accurate or not, he had to dig it out to find out.

Under the bright moonlight, Sherlock laboriously dug the dirt on the grave.

At first, he also wanted to have some sense of ritual, and planned to dig his own grave by himself, but before digging a few shovels, he collapsed on the ground and didn't want to move.

It's not that he is empty, but that his physical exertion is too serious tonight, and he really doesn't have the strength to dig another grave.

Sherlock gave up the idea of ​​​​doing it himself, and conjured up a few shovels. He sat on the ground and controlled the digging with control magic.

Of course, there are faster methods, such as direct blasting with three or four explosions.

But blowing up your own grave... is always a little weird.

Now this is a little more laborious, but not too troublesome.

Five or six shovels dug together, and after about an hour, an old wooden box was dug out.

Sherlock used control magic to take the wooden box out of the grave.

There is a lock, but a simple lock-picking spell will open it.

There is not much in the wooden box.

A small metal badge-shaped box, a dilapidated windmill, and a plain yellowed, immovable photograph.

He picked up the windmill.

Although it is old and shabby, it is obviously well protected by the previous owner, and it can clearly see its brand new appearance.

The three people in the photo are also very familiar.

With an imperceptible smile, there was a pigeon flying over his head, "Prince" who dropped the "bomb".

Amy, who held a pinwheel and a wave candy in her hand, was propped up with a smile on the corner of her mouth.

And standing behind Amy, the only "John" with a normal ~www.NovelMTL.com~ happy smile on his face.

Sherlock couldn't help but smile when he looked at this old photo that was 17 years ago.

At this moment, from far to near behind him, there was a sudden sound of light footsteps.

Sherlock turned around with the photo.

The girl who had been wearing a hood on her head walked in front of him, and with her slightly trembling hands, she slowly pulled down her hood.

The fair face is delicate and delicate, and she can still faintly see the shadow of her childhood.

The silver-gray hair fluttered in the wind, and those eyes covered by the black ribbon stared at him tightly!

Sherlock and her stared at each other for a long time, and finally stood up slowly with a sigh, walked to her side, stretched out his hand gently, and lifted the corner of her mouth to bend upwards.

"How many times have I said it, the world is beautiful, just smile more, Amy."

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