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I'm just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, nothing more.

Just having crossed into the world of Harry Potter, Sherlock Forester, without a golden finger or memories of the original owner's life, regarded the offer letter from Hogwarts in his hand with a sneer. "It's just a professorship in Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts." ----------------- Years later, the Daily Prophet interviewed Harry Potter, one of the most outstanding wizards of the 21st century. "What was the happiest day of your life?" An involuntary smile spread across Harry's face. "The day after Professor Forester predicted that I would be taken by Voldemort." "Um… And the day you'd least like to relive?" Harry's face darkened immediately. "Every Christmas." "Why is that?" He covered his face in agony, letting out a sob. "Wu Wu Wu… Because on that day, Professor Forester would wish me Merry Christmas!" ----------------- This is a translation of '不过是黑魔法防御课教授罢了' by '大海船', you can support him on Qidian if you like.

_Riux · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
176 Chs

Chapter 15: The Crescent Mark

"I take back what I said earlier" murmured George, his gaze locked onto the spectacle of Sherlock Forester holding his wand in challenge towards Malfoy.

With heightened attentiveness, Fred echoed the sentiment, his voice resonating with a shot of enthusiasm, "My previous words were misplaced, too. I have certainly underestimated Professor Forester. Percy could never compare, in fact he wouldn't even be worthy of shining the Professor's shoes!"

Percy, who found himself maligned once again, could only shoot his brothers a resentful look. But having observed the thrashing Malfoy had received, the expressions of both Percy and the golden trio were something akin to awe.

"If this is any indication of our Defence Against the Dark Arts class this term, we are in for an exhilarating ride!", Hermione exclaimed.

"It definitely promises more excitement than Quirrell's lessons." Ron and Harry agreed.

A worried Mrs. Weasley hastily maneuvered around Sherlock, inspecting him for any indication of harm. Her eyes teemed with relieved tears, and she was so filled with emotion, words hardly made their way out.

"Sherlock, my dear, you mustn't leap into fights, your Uncle Weasley does not set the best example. But you, you seem so different. There's a certain maturity to you. A good change, I must say."

Malfoy had been given no opportunity for retaliation against Sherlock, only him and Mr. Weasley were left with bruised faces, while Sherlock remained unharmed. Mr. Weasley, however paid no heed to his own injuries, instead patting Sherlock's shoulder, his smile was a complex portfolio of satisfaction, emotion, relief, and sheer elation.

"I always knew this day would come, Sherlock," he murmured. "I just knew it."

Despite this unusual display of audacity on his part, Sherlock's response remained nonchalant.

"People change" he shrugged casually. "It's only right for me to react, especially after facing such an offensive remark."

He meticulously cultivated an image of 'cool exterior, warm interior'. This strategy softened the Weasleys' surprise, lessened the shock of his personality evolution and ensured their comfort. Sherlock walked over to the bookshelf next, choosing several first-year textbooks. He placed them on the counter to purchase.

"Here, Freshmen should use pristine books. Treat these as my welcoming gift, from Professor to Student."

Sherlock took out Ginny's chosen second-hand books from her cauldron, replacing them with the new ones under the electrified gaze of the young girl, a galaxy of stars twinkling in her eyes.

"I do hope you study diligently once you attend," he asserted. "Unfortunately, there's another matter awaiting my attention. I'll have to reschedule my visit to your residence. I must be going now."

Leaving Flourish and Blotts, he did not wait to be stopped by Mrs. Weasley's pleas. The Weasley family, along with Harry, watched Sherlock's retreating figure from the distance, an inexplicable charm evident in his stalwart, upright posture.

A sigh escaped Mr. Weasley as he glanced at the brand-new books in Ginny's cauldron. "Sherlock seems to have matured a bit. Sally would be overjoyed if only she was here to see him like this."

Mrs Weasley dabbed at her eyes. "Poor boy. He's managed to remain grounded all these years of solitude. He must have gone through a lot."

Excited whispers were exchanged between Harry and Ron, who were planning to poke fun at Malfoy regarding his father's defeat. George and Fred, copying Sherlock's fighting style, were convinced it appeared more intimidating than even casting a spell. Thus, they embarked on their mission to create magical boxing gloves.

Ginny meticulously examined her new textbooks, while Hermione was already engrossed in another book about the history of Hogwarts, as Percy was off to search for a book explaining how a prefect should act to gain respect and keep students in line. Their bookstore expedition finally ended when Hagrid, passed by and greeted them.

Unnoticed amongst the collection of second-hand books that Sherlock had returned, lay an old diary. It was as if it had always been there, hidden. The diary escaped notice until two days later when an elderly witch and her shy grandson dropped by Flourish and Blotts.

"These aged notes often possess a wealth of wisdom from the past, Neville. They might prove to be quite helpful, you should take a few of them with you to Hogwarts."

"I, I will, Grandma."

The timid boy hastily selected a few notebooks from the pile, paid for them along with his other purchases and exited the bookstore. He seemed oblivious to the fact that one of the most weather-beaten notebooks was completely empty.

...

Having left the bookstore, Sherlock was readying himself to leave Diagon Alley.

The burn on his left arm was the most pronounced when he had touched Malfoy and it began fading rapidly once the Malfoy duo had left the bookstore. He decided to hastily return home to inspect his arm and take another, more careful look at his diary. Delving into its potentially overlooked secrets was his current priority.

After acquiring his custom-made robe from Madam Malkin's, and fetching his owl – which had already been paid for – from the magical pets store, Sherlock completed all the tasks that brought him to Diagon Alley.

Once home, he wasted no time. He swiftly disrobed in the bathroom, examining his reflection in the full-length mirror, and noticed a unique tattoo on his left arm. It was crescent-shaped and spread over more than a third of his upper arm.

Sherlock had not been conscious of this mark before. But the sensation of unanticipated heat when he encountered Malfoy alerted him to the likely conclusion that this tattoo wasn't as simple as it looked.

Despite carefully studying his predecessor's diary and performing various magical experiments, he remained unable to find any information relating to the mark. A sole clue, from an old image of the previous owner, indicated that the mark had been present on his arm even prior to Sherlock transmigrating into this world.

The mystery remained, however: why had the mark reacted at the sight of Malfoy, despite being seemingly dormant for the past twenty years?

Sherlock had more questions than answers. As it was already late August, and with Hogwarts term beginning on the 1st of September, he had no time to delve deeper into this mystery.

During Professor McGonagall's last visit, she left Sherlock a train ticket - informing him that he was free to take the Hogwarts Express if he so chooses. Seeing as Sherlock had no other means of transportation he naturally decided to take advantage of the free fare.

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