Sherlock's powers of observation and memory were exceptional.
He immediately recognized this as the same owl that had delivered the letter three days earlier.
Like before, it circled the room several times and dropped a letter directly into Sherlock's hands with a sharp thwack.
Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were instantly stunned:
"Good Lord, Tanner, what am I seeing? An owl that delivers mail?! This must be a hallucination!"
"Oh, Holy Mary, Violet, I'll wager it's a messenger from God!"
Watching his wife continuously making the sign of the cross on her chest, Mr. Holmes shook his head and said:
"Hey, sweetheart, you're reacting like a mad turkey—as everyone knows, God's messengers only come to earth when the end times arrive."
"Damn it, how can you think that? That's such a terrible thought, just like Aunt Susan's apple pie next door—if you keep talking like that, I swear I'll make you eat a piece."
Mr. Holmes shrugged and stopped arguing with his wife.
He turned to look at his son. "Sherlock, do you also think it's a messenger from God?"
"No," Sherlock said coldly. "It's just an owl that's learned to deliver mail."
He spoke while opening the envelope.
The reply was remarkably brief:
["I will visit before 9 o'clock"—Minerva McGonagall.]
"Heh." Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle softly.
'Interesting. It seemed that fellow had great confidence in the actor he'd hired!'
Looking at the time, it was now 8:45. In fifteen minutes, this person claiming to be Professor McGonagall would be arriving.
"Sherlock, what on earth is going on?"
Faced with his parents' questions, Sherlock shook his head gently: "That question is better left for our visitor to explain."
After all, he was quite curious to see this "Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
At exactly 9 o'clock, the front door was knocked on schedule.
"Hello, I am Minerva McGonagall, who wrote back to you."
A stern-looking woman appeared in front of the Holmes family.
Five minutes later, Professor Minerva McGonagall sat properly with the Holmes family in the living room.
McGonagall's first impression of Sherlock was favorable.
Sherlock was taller than his peers, which made him appear somewhat thin.
While his appearance wasn't the particularly cute type among young boys, his facial features were strong and he looked he would be a handsome man in future.
His gray eyes were particularly striking. Besides his eyes, his nose was also quite noticeable.
Overall, Sherlock's appearance gave an impression of alertness and decisiveness, fitting McGonagall's ideal of a good student.
After brief pleasantries, the no-nonsense McGonagall got straight to the point.
Every child born in Britain with magical talent was automatically added to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's enrollment list.
When these children turned eleven, they would receive acceptance letters delivered by owl.
If the recipient didn't receive the letter, the owls would keep delivering until they did.
Besides the acceptance letter, there was also a list of required supplies, including uniforms, textbooks, cauldrons, wands, and other items included in that letter.
For children from wizarding families, this was a very routine ordinary thing.
But for some people, they neither knew they possessed magic nor were aware of the magical world's existence.
In such cases, Hogwarts would send staff members to visit and explain everything to their guardians, ensuring they received the information.
However,...
"Mr. Holmes is the first this year to actively request our visit."
When she said this, McGonagall's look of appreciation toward Sherlock grew even stronger.
In McGonagall's view, any person with magical talent who didn't receive systematic magical education was wasteful, and could even become a criminal in future.
People in the Middle Ages were very afraid of magic.
Many wizards, particularly witches, suffered various degrees of persecution, with severe cases even losing their lives.
Wizards of that era also lacked a complete educational system, with all wizard children learning magic at home under their parents' guidance.
It was under these circumstances that Hogwarts came into being.
It now had over a thousand years of history.
Therefore, people like Sherlock Holmes, born into non-magical families, showing such active interest in understanding the magical world was highly commendable.
You know, every year during school enrollment, some non-magical families would react to magic with fear and try to avoid it.
Please, it was already 1991!
Film and television works about magic were all adapted from reality—why did these people still hold such attitudes toward magic?
However, the nearly sixty-year-old McGonagall also understood clearly.
Prejudice in people's hearts was like a mountain—no matter how hard you try, you cannot move it.
Even though magic school teachers repeatedly emphasized that wizards' magical power increased with age.
If young wizards reached school age but still didn't learn to control their magic, their magical power would become unstable, and in severe cases, they might even lose their lives.
Even so, the notion that wizards' equal evil still existed in some people's minds.
After multiple setbacks, Hogwarts established new rules.
If these families, after understanding the truth about the magical world, still refused enrollment, these children could continue staying home and attending regular schools.
This amounted to leaving everything to fate and god.
Of course, Hogwarts didn't encourage this approach.
This was a last resort when all else failed.
However, judging from Sherlock's positive attitude, this situation shouldn't arise in this family.
While McGonagall was observing Sherlock, he was likewise observing her.
In fact, before McGonagall finished explaining about Hogwarts to Sherlock and his parents, Sherlock had already completed his analysis and assessment of McGonagall through observation.
The result greatly surprised him.
Because according to his judgment, this woman calling herself Professor Minerva McGonagall wasn't lying.
From a person's momentary expressions, every muscle movement, and every shift of the eyes, one could deduce their innermost thoughts.
For someone trained in observation and analysis, this wasn't difficult.
Sherlock was precisely such a person.
When his visitor had just sat down before entering the main topic, Sherlock had already deduced her personality from her wrinkle-free dark green robes, neatly arranged curly black hair pulled into a high bun, and the light-reflecting square glasses.
Serious, stern, and meticulous.
Such people, if they wanted to lie, would be more easily detected than ordinary people.
For this reason, Sherlock began to doubt his previous judgment.
'If McGonagall wasn't lying...
Didn't that mean this wasn't that person's arrangement?
Did magic... really exist?'
"When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Sherlock couldn't help murmuring.
"Excuse me, Mr. Holmes, what did you just say?"
McGonagall looked at Sherlock; she hadn't caught his mumbled words.
Sherlock's parents also looked at him curiously.
"No, nothing."
Sherlock shook his head, then fixed his bright gaze on McGonagall.
To prove whether magic truly existed, there was actually a very simple method.
"Professor, could you demonstrate magic for us?"
Hearing Sherlock's request, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes also looked expectantly at McGonagall.
"Of course."
McGonagall wasn't at all surprised by such a request.
If they hadn't made this request, she would have found it strange—mainly because she had so much experience dealing with such situations.
"If you agree."
After receiving an affirmative answer, McGonagall drew out a black wand and waved it elegantly.
Under the surprised gazes of the family of three, the teacup in front of Sherlock transformed into an adorable little squirrel.
"Oh my God! Good Lord! Look, what am I seeing?"
"How incredible—the teacup... actually became a squirrel!"
Compared to his dramatically expressive parents, Sherlock was much calmer.
"Magic tricks? Hypnosis? Or dexterity of hands..."
Even at this moment, Sherlock still tried to explain everything happening in front of him from a scientific perspective.
Then the little squirrel, transformed from the teacup, shook its head and jumped onto his outstretched palm.
"..."
Sherlock tentatively petted it.
'Mm, very soft.'
The little creature even actively nuzzled against Sherlock's hand, and the fluffy sensation immediately registered.
'The touch felt real.
So... this was real, not a dream.'
Sherlock looked up at McGonagall and made one final attempt:
"Professor, could you change it back?"
"Certainly."
McGonagall waved her wand again, and the squirrel in Sherlock's hand immediately transformed back into a teacup.
The tea was still warm.
"...When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Sherlock spoke these words for the second time.
This time he was certain.
This world... truly had magic!
This fantasy that should have belonged to human imagination actually existed.
For Sherlock, this was undoubtedly a complete reconstruction of his worldview.
However, once he accepted this premise, Sherlock's thinking immediately expanded.
The exquisite envelope, the mail-delivering owl, the strange enrollment method—all of these now had reasonable explanations.
This time he had truly misjudged that fellow.
"Mr. Holmes, are you willing to enroll in our school?"
For McGonagall, she was long accustomed to the surprised reactions of young wizards and their guardians upon seeing magic—the key question was whether Sherlock could enroll on time.
From his response letter, Sherlock himself should have no problems.
Now it depended on his parents' opinion.
Noticing McGonagall's gaze directed at him, Mr. Holmes considered briefly and asked, "Professor, does enrollment require boarding at school?"
"Father, I think you wouldn't want me to attend school eight hundred kilometers away in Scotland and still come home every day."
"Scotland? Oh, dear Sherlock, that's so far away! Your mother and I wouldn't be able to take care of you."
"I can take care of myself."
"But..."
"Wait! Hold on a moment!"
The Holmes family looked at McGonagall in confusion.
She was staring at Sherlock with an incredulous expression. "Mr. Holmes, did you just... mention Scotland?"
Sherlock looked at McGonagall calmly. "Yes, Professor."
"How... how did you know?" McGonagall was shocked.