It wasn't just Sherlock; many others on the train also saw Harry and Ron flying the car through the sky.
This indeed sparked massive discussion among the crowd.
However, none of this had anything to do with Sherlock, who was curled up alone in his compartment.
After determining that he couldn't recall any more of the plot, he reopened his suitcase, pulled out a third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, and began flipping through it while taking notes.
His teaching plan had already taken a preliminary shape. Although, with his current skill level, he certainly wouldn't be able to teach anything too profound, he still had to manage a normal classroom.
The high sun gradually began to tilt westward.
At noon, Sherlock bought only a piece of chocolate from the snack trolley to fill his stomach before continuing to refine his lesson plans.
Night soon filled the entire sky.
The train conductor then announced over the intercom that they would be arriving at Hogwarts in ten minutes.
Sherlock stood up from his seat, stretched, packed his books and quill back into his suitcase, then took off his everyday clothes and changed into his wizard robes.
The train's speed slowed more and more until it finally came to a complete stop.
Standing out like a crane among a flock of chickens, Sherlock stood amid a crowd of young wizards and followed the flow of people off the train.
In front of the dilapidated little platform, a figure much taller than an ordinary person was already standing there waiting.
Seeing the students get off the train, he shouted in his coarse voice.
"First-years! Over here!"
The originally bewildered new students immediately found their anchor and gathered toward this obvious landmark.
Suddenly, that "landmark" seemed to make a major discovery and walked quickly in Sherlock's direction.
"Oh! Sherlock! It really is ye! I heard long ago that ye were coming to teach at Hogwarts, but I didn't expect you to come by train!"
The person responsible for guiding the first-years was, naturally, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, as well as the gamekeeper, Hagrid.
He walked up to Sherlock and gave him a very enthusiastic hug.
Actually, it wasn't much of a hug, because when he held Sherlock, Sherlock's face could only press against his stomach.
"Professor McGonagall happened to give me a ticket," Sherlock said calmly after breaking free from Hagrid's embrace.
He wasn't too surprised anymore by the fact that Hagrid and the original owner seemed to be very familiar.
This was Hogwarts, after all—the place where the original owner had spent seven years in school. He might not have had many friends, but he would certainly have a few acquaintances, and the other professors at Hogwarts would surely know him.
The first-years following behind Hagrid were all sizing up Sherlock with curious gazes. They could tell from Hagrid's words that the handsome but cold-looking man before them was a professor, though they didn't know which subject he taught.
"You head on to the Castle; Dumbledore is waiting for you in the Great Hall!"
Hagrid smiled and waved goodbye to Sherlock, then led the first-years toward a small path in the nearby woods.
Sherlock followed the older students to the other side, where there was a large group of carriages pulled by ugly horses with black, leathery wings.
The second-year students were also using this mode of transport to return to school for the first time. In the eyes of most people, they couldn't see those ugly horses, only the carriages themselves.
"Can you see the Thestrals, Professor Cavendish?"
The one asking Sherlock was Hermione.
Since Harry and Ron had gone to fly the car, she was currently sitting alone.
From her question, Sherlock finally learned the name of this magical creature and recalled seeing a description of it in a book specifically about magical creatures back at home.
Thestrals—magical creatures considered ill omens; only those who have witnessed death firsthand can see their true form.
Whether in his past life or since transmigrating here, Sherlock had never seen a scene of human death.
The only plausible explanation was that he himself had died once, which was clearly a more direct confrontation with death than merely seeing someone else die.
Facing Hermione's question, he replied softly.
"Being able to see these creatures is not necessarily a good thing."
Hermione had seen Sherlock's performance in Diagon Alley and knew his personality wasn't actually as cold as it appeared on the surface; he was, in fact, quite a good person.
"Harry and Ron are far too bold!" After getting into a Thestral-drawn carriage with Sherlock, Hermione couldn't help but complain huffily.
"They only care about having fun and showing off, but they don't realize how much trouble that flying car will cause Mr. Weasley if it's seen by others!"
Sherlock was actually quite interested in chatting with this young girl. Compared to those two troublemakers, Harry and Ron, Hermione was clearly much more sensible than them—and even than most of her peers.
"If they knew that, they wouldn't be Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."
The Thestrals pulled them to the front gates of Hogwarts. Sherlock and Hermione stepped off the carriage, and the students entered the school under the leadership of their respective prefects.
Sherlock followed behind these students to prevent himself from getting lost in the Castle and making a fool of himself.
When he reached the doors of the Great Hall, he finally couldn't help but feel nervous.
Once he walked through these doors, he would meet Dumbledore—one of the most powerful characters in the entire story, and also a deeply manipulative individual (a subjective impression gained from movie commentaries).
Whether he would reveal any flaws or give himself away depended on whether he could pass this man's inspection.
Sherlock let out a soft breath and followed the students into the Great Hall.
Four long tables were arranged in the center of the hall, and the young wizards entering took their seats at different tables according to their respective houses.
Thousands of candles floating in mid-air above the tables illuminated the dining hall, and glittering gold plates and goblets were set upon the four tables.
At the head of the hall was another long table on a raised platform; that was the staff table.
When Sherlock looked over, a group of Hogwarts professors seated there were also looking at him.
Sitting in the middle was an old man with a great white beard and peculiarly shaped half-moon spectacles.
That old man, who looked as kind and approachable as a grandfather next door, met Sherlock's gaze with a smile and beckoned to him.