The Repairing Charm is an extremely practical spell that can restore most damaged objects.
Sherlock's performance in his first Charms class was just like in his other subjects—he continuously questioned Professor Flitwick.
As with his other courses, his goal was to gain a comprehensive understanding of the subject.
Professor Flitwick was unexpectedly enthusiastic about studious wizards, so Sherlock not only achieved his intended goal but even gained additional benefits.
He learned a very useful new spell from Flitwick—the Warming Charm.
As the name suggests, a single casting would make one's entire body warm and toasty, as if wearing thermal clothes.
This was extremely practical for Sherlock, who was still recovering from his recent illness and dealing with this damp, cold weather.
The other students could only envy him.
After all, students who could skillfully master and apply the Repairing Charm in their first class were already few and far between. Besides Sherlock, only Hermione and a few others could manage it.
But even Hermione found herself lacking the energy to learn new spells, despite her willingness.
This made her secretly clench her small fists.
'Holmes, I won't lose to you!'
Tuesday afternoon's Charms class was immediately followed by Transfiguration, making the schedule rather tight.
This was especially true for Gryffindor students.
The main reason was Harry.
Compared to the enthusiasm shown during breakfast in the Great Hall, the crowd of onlookers' behavior was even more excessive.
Students without classes lined up in long queues outside the classroom, each standing on tiptoe, wanting to catch a glimpse of the hero who had defeated the Dark Lord as a mere infant.
In the corridors, these students' behavior was even more exaggerated.
Even after walking past Harry, they would turn back and stare at him intently.
If it weren't so rude, they would have even wanted to get close and see what Harry's lightning bolt scar actually looked like.
Harry sincerely hoped they wouldn't do this, because the path to the classroom was already difficult enough.
First-year students not knowing the way was one thing, but Hogwarts' paths were inherently hard to navigate.
The routes here changed constantly: some staircases led to different places at different times; some steps would suddenly disappear halfway up, forcing people to remember where to jump; and some doors weren't real doors at all, but solid walls disguised as doors.
Even the people in the portraits constantly visited each other, making it impossible to use them as reference points.
Everything was in constant motion, making it extremely difficult to remember where things were located.
The students' intense focus on Harry only made this difficulty worse.
"Sherlock, you're amazing!"
After Sherlock led Harry and Ron quickly through the disobedient staircases, jumped over two missing steps, circumvented the mischievous Peeves, and finally opened what looked like a non-door in the correct way, Harry couldn't help but express his sincere admiration.
"How did you manage to remember such a complex route?"
Sherlock smiled slightly: "Actually, you could do it too."
"Me?"
Harry pointed at himself, looking completely bewildered.
"Yes, dear Harry. I've actually told you many times: what you and I see is no different, so what I can do, you can do too."
"That's impossible!"
Before Harry could respond, Ron interjected:
"As far as I know, no first-year in the entire house—no, the entire school—can remember all the correct routes to classrooms like you do. Even including the upper-year students, probably only George and Fred could manage it."
Harry nodded repeatedly, clearly agreeing with Ron's assessment.
Sherlock slightly sidestepped to avoid a ghost that suddenly darted out from behind a door, his nonchalant manner causing deep disappointment to appear in the ghost's eyes.
He explained: "Harry, remember when we first met, I said you were brought to the station by your uncle, and you seemed quite surprised."
"That's right."
Recalling their first meeting, Harry still felt amazed.
"But after I explained my reasoning process to you, you found everything so obvious."
"Yes, whenever I listen to your deductions, everything always seems so obvious, almost laughably simple, to the point where I feel I could deduce things myself."
Harry scratched his head, asking somewhat puzzled, "But before you explain your reasoning process, I'm always confused about every aspect of your next deductive step."
"Me too!"
Ron interjected again, saying somewhat defiantly: "But I still think our eyesight is no worse than yours."
"What you're saying isn't wrong."
"Huh?"
Ron was stunned by this response.
'Wait, I was just talking casually, how did you actually agree?'
"The problem is that you look but don't observe—there's a clear difference between the two."
Seeing Harry and Ron's confused expressions, Sherlock paused and continued: "For example, we've been at school for three days now. Do you know how many staircases there are in the castle?"
Harry: "I don't know."
Ron: "How could anyone possibly know that!"
"Because you haven't observed, you've only looked—which is exactly what I'm pointing out.
Hogwarts has exactly one hundred and forty-two staircases, with three types: nine, twelve, and fourteen steps respectively.
The Gryffindor tower is located on the east side of the castle, with its common room on the eighth floor of the tower. Along with the Astronomy Tower and Ravenclaw Tower, it's one of the three highest towers in the school.
I know these things because I don't just look—I observe."
This speech left Harry and Ron completely stunned.
"Well, we've reached the classroom. We can continue this topic later if you're interested."
Thanks to Sherlock's guidance, the group arrived at the classroom five minutes before class began.
Even so, the classroom was chaotic.
This was mainly because Professor McGonagall, who was responsible for teaching, hadn't arrived yet.
She was the Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, known for being both strict and fair.
If she had been in the classroom, the students definitely wouldn't have dared to act up.
"Why is there a cat there?"
Ron surveyed the classroom and called out in surprise.
Sherlock had naturally noticed the small cat crouched on the lectern much earlier.
After staring at the cat for a few seconds, a meaningful smile appeared at the corner of his mouth:
"Harry, can you guess where this cat came from?"
"Maybe it's Professor McGonagall's pet?"
Harry answered somewhat uncertainly.
"No."
"No?"
"Perfect. Let me demonstrate the process of forming deductions through observation."
Under the surprised gazes of nearby students, Sherlock strode to the lectern and grabbed the small cat by the scruff of its neck, lifting it up.