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Sherlock possessed strong powers of observation and memory.
He recognized at a glance that this owl was the same one that had delivered the letter three days prior.
Just like last time, it circled the room a few times and, with a *thwack*, dropped the letter into Sherlock's hand.
Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were instantly stunned:
"Good heavens, Tarnan, what am I seeing? An owl delivering mail?! This must be a hallucination!"
"Oh, Holy Mother Mary, Varita, I bet you it must be a messenger from God!"
Watching his wife repeatedly making the sign of the cross on her chest, Mr. Holmes shook his head and said:
"Hey, my sweetheart, your reaction now is like a frantic turkey—everyone knows God's messengers only come to Earth when the apocalypse arrives."
"Heavens, why would you think that? That thought is truly awful, like Aunt Susan's apple pie next door—if you say that again, I swear I'll make you eat a piece."
Mr. Holmes shrugged, ceasing the argument with his wife.
He turned to his son, "Sherlock, do you also think it's a messenger from God?"
"No," Sherlock stated coolly, "it's merely an owl that has learned to deliver mail."
He opened the envelope as he spoke.
The reply was extremely simple:
"I shall visit at 9 o'clock.—Minerva McGonagall."
"Heh."
Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle softly.
Interesting, it seems that fellow has quite a bit of confidence in the actor they hired!
He checked the time; it was 8:45.
In fifteen minutes, this person calling herself Professor McGonagall would arrive.
"Sherlock, what on earth is going on?"
Faced with his parents' questions, Sherlock gently shook his head: "Let's allow our guest to explain this matter."
After all, he was also quite curious to see this "Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
At precisely 9 o'clock, there was a knock on the door.
"Hello, I am Minerva McGonagall, the one who replied to your letter."
A woman with a stern expression appeared before the Holmes family.
Five minutes later, Professor Minerva McGonagall and the Holmes family were seated neatly in the living room.
McGonagall's first impression of Sherlock was favorable.
Sherlock was slightly taller than his peers, making him appear somewhat lean.
While not the particularly cute type among young boys, his features were strong, his face sharply defined.
His grey eyes were especially striking, appearing quite long.
Besides his eyes, his slender aquiline nose was also quite noticeable.
Overall, Sherlock's appearance gave a sense of alertness and decisiveness, fitting McGonagall's image of a good student.
After brief pleasantries, McGonagall, known for her brisk nature, got straight to the point.
Every child with magical talent born in Britain is automatically added to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admissions list.
When these children turn eleven, they receive an acceptance letter delivered by owl.
If the recipient fails to receive the letter, the owl will continue delivering letters until it is received.
In addition to the acceptance letter, the mail includes a list of required supplies, including uniforms, textbooks, cauldrons, wands, etc.
For children from wizarding families, this is as commonplace as eating and drinking.
But for some, they neither know they possess magic nor are aware of the existence of the magical world.
In such cases, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sends staff members to visit, explaining everything to their guardians to ensure they receive the information.
However...
"Mr. Holmes is the first to proactively request our visit."
As she said this, McGonagall's admiration for Sherlock deepened.
In McGonagall's view, anyone with magical talent not receiving systematic magical education is a waste, even a crime.
People in the Middle Ages greatly feared magic.
Many wizards, especially witches, suffered varying degrees of persecution, sometimes even losing their lives.
At that time, wizards lacked a complete educational system; all wizard children learned magic at home under their parents' guidance.
It was under these circumstances that Hogwarts came into being.
It now boasts a history of over a thousand years.
Therefore, for someone like Sherlock Holmes, born into a non-wizarding family, to show such active interest in understanding the magical world was highly commendable.
After all, during the school's annual recruitment, some non-wizarding families react to magic with fear and avoidance.
Honestly, it's 1991!
Depictions of magic in films and literature are based on reality; why do these people still hold such attitudes towards magic?
However, McGonagall, nearly sixty, knew well.
Prejudice in people's hearts is like a great mountain; no amount of effort can move it.
Even though the magic school teachers repeatedly emphasize that a wizard's magic grows with age.
If young wizards don't learn to control their magic by the time they reach school age, their magic can become volatile, potentially even costing them their lives in severe cases.
Yet, despite this, the notion that wizards = evil still persists in some minds.
So, after numerous setbacks, Hogwarts established a new rule.
If these families, even after learning the truth about the magical world, still refuse enrollment, the children can remain at home and attend regular schools.
This essentially amounts to leaving it to fate.
Of course, Hogwarts does not encourage this practice.
It is a last resort when all else fails.
But judging by Sherlock's own positive attitude, this situation was unlikely to occur.
While McGonagall observed Sherlock, he was observing her just as intently.
In fact, even before McGonagall finished explaining about Hogwarts to Sherlock and his parents, Sherlock had already completed his analysis of her through observation.
The results astonished him.
Because according to his judgment, this woman calling herself Professor Minerva McGonagall was not lying.
One can deduce a person's innermost thoughts from fleeting expressions, the slightest muscle twitch, and every eye movement.
For someone practiced in observation and analysis, this is not difficult.
Sherlock himself was precisely such a person.
From the moment she sat down, before she even began the main topic, Sherlock had already deduced her personality from her wrinkle-free, deep green robes, her tightly coiled black hair neatly tied in a bun, and the light reflecting off her square-rimmed glasses.
Serious, strict, and meticulous.
If such a person were to lie, it would be much easier to detect than with an ordinary person.
Precisely because of this, Sherlock began to doubt his initial judgment.
If McGonagall wasn't lying...
Didn't that mean this wasn't arranged by *that* person?
Magic... actually exists?
"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Sherlock couldn't help murmuring.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Holmes, what did you just say?"
McGonagall looked at Sherlock, not having caught his quiet utterance.
Sherlock's parents also looked at him curiously.
"No, it was nothing."
Sherlock shook his head, then fixed his gaze intently on McGonagall.
There was, in fact, a very simple way to prove whether magic truly existed.
"Professor, could you show us some magic?"
Upon hearing Sherlock's request, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes also looked expectantly at McGonagall.
"But of course."
McGonagall was not at all surprised by such a request.
She would have found it strange if he hadn't asked—mainly because she was extremely experienced in handling such situations.
"If you consent."
After receiving affirmative nods, McGonagall drew out a black wand and waved it elegantly.
To the astonishment of the family of three, the teacup in front of Sherlock transformed into an endearingly clumsy little squirrel.
"Oh, my God! Good heavens! Look, what am I seeing?"
"How incredible—the teacup... actually turned into a squirrel!"
Compared to his parents' exaggerated reactions, Sherlock was much calmer.
"Magic trick? Hypnosis? Or an illusion..."
Even at this moment, Sherlock still tried to explain what was happening from a scientific perspective.
Just then, the little squirrel, transformed from the teacup, shook its head and hopped onto his outstretched palm.
"..."
Sherlock tentatively stroked it.
Hmm, very comfortable.
The little creature even actively nuzzled against Sherlock's hand, the furry sensation immediately palpable.
The touch felt real.
So... this is real, not a dream.
Sherlock looked up at McGonagall, making one final attempt:
"Professor, can you change it back?"
"Certainly."
McGonagall waved her wand again, and the squirrel that had just been in Sherlock's hand instantly reverted to a teacup.
The tea inside was even still warm.
"...When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Sherlock uttered this sentence for the second time.
This time, he was certain.
This world... truly has magic!
Something that should have belonged purely to human fantasy actually exists.
For Sherlock, this undoubtedly constituted a reconstruction of his worldview.
However, once he accepted this premise, Sherlock's line of thought immediately opened up.
The exquisite envelope, the mail-delivering owl, the strange enrollment method—all now had reasonable explanations.
He had truly misunderstood that fellow this time.
"Mr. Holmes, are you willing to enroll in our school?"
For McGonagall, the surprised reactions of young wizards and their guardians upon witnessing magic were commonplace—the key was whether Sherlock would enroll on time.
Judging from his reply letter, Sherlock himself seemed willing.
Now it depended on his parents' opinion.
Noticing McGonagall's gaze upon him, Mr. Holmes thought for a moment and inquired, "Professor, does enrollment require boarding at the school?"
"Father, I assume you wouldn't want me attending school four hundred miles away in Scotland and commuting home daily."
"Scotland? Oh, dear Sherlock, that's too far! Your mother and I wouldn't be able to take care of you then."
"I can take care of myself."
"But..."
"Wait! Just a moment!"
The Holmes family looked quizzically at McGonagall.
She was staring at Sherlock with an expression of disbelief, "Mr. Holmes, did you just... mention Scotland?"
Sherlock calmly met McGonagall's gaze, "Yes, Professor."
"You—how could you possibly know?"
McGonagall was astonished.
(End of Chapter)