It was exactly 7:15 p.m.
Sherlock looked at his unhappy face in the mirror and nodded in satisfaction.
In the study, the painting on the wall started cursing and swearing again.
Instead of staying there, he took his wand, grabbed a spellbook, closed the study door, and sat down on the sofa in the living room.
The original owner was emotionally closed off, and he never truly showed his feelings even in front of Dumbledore, whom he admired most. Therefore, Sherlock boldly guessed that since it was his secret hideout, he wouldn't allow any outsiders into that study—not even Professor McGonagall.
So, Sherlock chose the living room as the place to receive guests.
7:20 p.m. sharp.
There were no footsteps outside the door, but suddenly, a soft knocking sounded.
Sherlock took a deep breath, suppressing his nervousness. He put the spellbook—which he had been staring at for a long time without understanding—back on the coffee table, got up, and walked to the living room door to open it for the visitor outside.
The old lady standing outside was very tall, wearing square glasses, with curly black hair tied in a high bun. She wore a dark green robe with a tartan shirt underneath. She also wore a very eye-catching pointed hat. Her face was full of wrinkles left by the years, and her expression was serious. At first glance, you could feel her authority.
"Good evening, Sherlock."
Professor McGonagall didn't seem to have a distant relationship with him, calling him by his first name instead of his surname.
Sherlock's expression was sombre, his brow furrowed. He stepped aside to let Professor McGonagall in, replying in a flat tone.
"Good evening, Professor."
As she entered the living room, Professor McGonagall failed to notice that the current Sherlock was different from the one she knew before. She did not perceive the slightest abnormality.
"You really should go out more, instead of staying cooped up at home all day—or visit your father more often. After all, he is your only family."
Professor McGonagall sighed and sat down on the sofa in the living room.
Her words further confirmed Sherlock's earlier guess.
Her relationship with the original owner of this body was anything but ordinary!
Although the diary contained very little description of Professor McGonagall—and even when it did, she was only mentioned briefly—the tone she used when speaking to Sherlock was clearly more like that of an elder advising a younger person.
Sherlock's already anxious heart immediately became even more vigilant.
The more familiar she was with him, the higher the chance he would be exposed!
He had no idea what kind of relationship existed between the two of them. He had no idea what the original owner's attitude toward Professor McGonagall had been before.
But now that things had come to this, there was no turning back. Sherlock had no choice but to bite the bullet and proceed according to his plan.
"My affairs are none of your concern."
His tone remained cold and hard, but then it became somewhat impatient.
"You said in your letter that the matter I discussed with Professor Dumbledore has taken a turn for the better? How did Professor Dumbledore reply to me?"
Sherlock didn't ask directly if there had been a response regarding his application to join the Order of the Phoenix.
The more you say, the more mistakes you make. If the original owner and Dumbledore had talked about other things besides this, but he hadn't written them in his diary, then Sherlock would have made a mess of things.
So, by asking the question this way, he was essentially throwing the difficult part to Professor McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall never noticed anything amiss with Sherlock.
Because the current Sherlock was completely in line with his normal behaviour—cold to everyone, only showing great enthusiasm when it came to gaining Dumbledore's approval.
Professor McGonagall let out a rare soft sigh, then looked at Sherlock with a slight smile and said…
"Dumbledore has agreed to your request to join the Order of the Phoenix. He acknowledges your abilities and character."
Hearing this expected result, Sherlock felt a sense of relief, and at the same time, a look of surprise appeared on his face.
"I knew it! A great wizard like Professor Dumbledore would never refuse my application to join the organisation."
But then he tried to appear unmoved and indifferent to the news.
"You didn't need to come all the way here just for this. You could've told me in your letter and let me know the time of the Order meeting."
Seeing his childlike reaction, Professor McGonagall sighed and shook her head, then looked at Sherlock with a serious expression.
"There's something very sensitive that I shouldn't be telling you."
"But you are Sally's son, and your safety is at stake, so I must remind you that joining the Order of the Phoenix is not as easy as joining the clubs at Hogwarts."
"Especially this year, an unexpected event occurred, and you became a member of the Order of the Phoenix. This means that you will be in danger because of this identity in the future, and you may even die because of it."
Hearing her words, Sherlock's thoughts raced.
This year marked the end of Harry Potter's first year of school, meaning the Philosopher's Stone storyline—which he was most familiar with—had already concluded.
At this time, Voldemort's soul had already appeared in Harry Potter and Dumbledore's field of vision, so the danger Professor McGonagall mentioned was very likely referring to this.
After all, the Order of the Phoenix was founded to fight Voldemort's Death Eaters.
There was indeed danger, but at this point, he certainly couldn't go back on his word to Professor McGonagall and say that he didn't intend to join.
Given the original owner's stubborn, mule-like personality, he would have loved to die for his idol Dumbledore. That was something he could never have said.
Sherlock remained indifferent, speaking with a hint of disdain.
"Of course I was prepared for this long ago. You don't need to emphasise it to me again, Professor McGonagall. If I didn't even have this much awareness, I wouldn't have applied in the first place. Do you have anything else to say?"
Professor McGonagall was already used to his sharp and confrontational attitude.
Those unaware of the inside story would only find Sherlock extremely annoying, but Professor McGonagall—who clearly understood why he had developed such a personality—felt nothing but pity for him, and could not feel any ill will toward him.
Even though Sherlock had clearly indicated that he wanted to see the guest out, Professor McGonagall inexplicably showed a relieved smile. Then she took a piece of parchment from her robe pocket.
"Also, congratulations, Sherlock! Headmaster Dumbledore has approved your application for the Defence Against the Dark Arts professorship this year. Here is your appointment letter. Starting this semester, we will be colleagues."
Sherlock, who had been relieved that his acting hadn't gone wrong, suddenly froze when he heard what she said.