A Study of Scarlet Witch [Sherlock at hogwarts]

The Research

Sherlock didn't have any data. And he didn't want to theorize before it. He instantly stalked to the hospital wing. He was being awfully frequent there.

Rowe was lying on a bed, amidst her fans, which were now free since the classes for the day were over. She was conscious and talking with them. Sherlock neared and stood silently at the back, listening.

"-Yes, yes, it was terrible. One moment, I was in my room, and the next something flies at me. And then I wake up here. -What? I didn't realize they were sticks. -Yes Prof McGonagall later showed me them. I had no idea. -Oh no, Mr. Blewitt, it doesn't hurt much. I have suffered worse in the training. Did you know I once fell from the height.."

Sherlock didn't wait. Rowe was enjoying her group of fans and he let her be.

He then alternated between going to Prof McGonagall and going to Prof Snape. McGonagall had found Rowe first but Snape could probably tell him about the magic behind the sticks. People were baffled at it's reaction when Prof. Sudol suffered from the hit. So it wasn't a normal magical object. 

And he knew that even though Prof. Snape taught Potions, he had considerable interest in Dark Magic. 

He decided to go Prof. McGonagall. Asking for information from both of he teacher wasn't an easy job. But McGonagall was the tougher nut to crack and he wanted to get over with it. 

He asked around and found that Prof McGonagall was on the grounds, at Hagrid's.

He went outside, ignoring the two essays that were due three days later. As he trod down the grounds, he saw Prof. McGonagall and Hagrid drinking butterbeer together, chatting.

Sherlock trotted up to them.

"Not a very good day for outside picnic, Prof McGonagall. Good evening, Hagrid."

The looks of intrusion were clear on both of their faces. But they smiled politely.

"What are you doing out here on the grounds, Holmes?" McGonagall asked.

"Oh Professor, the castle is alive with gossip regarding Rowe's unfortunate incident. Thought I'd catch a break," Sherlock said. With that sentence, Prof McGonagall's look became guarded.

"And I think you escaped them for the same reason too, didn't you Professor? After all, it was you who found Desgar, hanging upside down from a ceiling with Peeves attacking her," Sherlock lied.

Prof. McGonagall surged up appropriately. "That's outrageous! You should know better than to believe such gossips, Mr. Holmes. Peeves wasn't in this, nor was Rowe hanging upside down. I merely found her unconscious her room with the sticks lying near by. She had bled a little. That's it."

"Did you know that our Professor Sudol said that she was the one who stole the enchanted sticks from Madam Pomfrey's?" Sherlock pressed.

Prof. McGonagall's eyes widened. "Who told you this?"

Sherlock said with air of disregard, "Everybody knows. Nothing remains secret in the school for long."

"Now Holmes, I know that Prof. Sudol is a foreign teacher and so is the magic on those infernal sticks, but there's no reason to doubt Prof. Sudol with the attack," Prof. McGonagall said patiently, but it was clear that she herself had some doubts.

"But don't Sudol own 'em? I saw 'em in her luggage when she came," Hagrid blurted and was instantly silenced with a glare from Professor.

"Professor Sudol owns the sticks? Is that why very few concerns were raised when she herself was hit by them? How did Peeves get them?" Sherlock fired questions.

McGonagall opened her mouth, probably to rebuke him, but was cut off by Hagrid.

"That infernal Poltergeist! Stole 'em more likely. Say what you will, Professor, but Prof. Sudol should know better than leave those darned sticks lying about."

"That's enough Hagrid," Professor McGonagall spoke up, trying to get the situation under control. She might distrust Sudol, but Prof. Sudol was still a Hogwarts Teacher. She turned to send Holmes back to the school, but he was looking elsewhere.

"Prof. Sudol's guest is yet here?" Sherlock exclaimed, looking at one scarlet and other white head off in the distance. Prof. Sudol and her guest Arinade Tetchsky were walking to the edge of the grounds.

"She stayed for a day. Capable witch, she is," Prof. McGonagall said, glad for a change in conversation. "I guess Professor Sudol is seeing her friend off. Madam Tetchsky said she was leaving today. And so should you Holmes. It's getting dark."

...

McGonagall accompanied Sherlock back to the castle, to see that he goes without any mischief. Prof. McGonagall had always regarded Holmes as a studious boy who read quite a lot. But these last few days had changed her opinion.

Sherlock chatted nicely with Professor, receiving monosyllabic responses. But it didn't bother him. He said good night to her and walked amiably till he disappeared from her view. Then he ran.

He saw Mary Morstan walking by with a bunch of books in her hands.

"Is that Potions' book? Can I borrow it for a little while?" Sherlock asked. Mary shrugged and handed him her book. Sherlock thanked her. He changed his course from his dormitory to the potions dungeon. He wasn't sure that Prof. Snape would even be there but he had to try.

Professor Snape was there. He was hunching over a cauldron, sniffing something. Sherlock knocked on the open door.

"Can I come in Professor?"

"What are you doing here so late?" Prof. Snape asked.

"I had a doubt in our Potions homework today," Sherlock made up. Professor Snape didn't say anything so Sherlock went in. He hurriedly made up a doubt.

Professor Snape scrunched his nose when he saw the doubt.

"That is your query, Mr. Holmes? I thought you were better than average at Potions. I guess I was wrong," Snape sneered in a low tone. He explained the point none the less.

"Sorry Professor," Sherlock smiled sheepishly. "It's just that the study rooms are abuzz with the Rowe Desgar's accident. It's very distracting to see everybody fawning over a Quidditch Seeker."

Snape's expressions changed. Sherlock wondered if he said anything wrong.

"Don't go on expressing your radical opinions, Mr. Holmes. You might find yourself... a tad unpopular," Snape sneered again. But this time it was painted with some bitterness.

"Do you think there's really anything special about those sticks? Or she's just milking it?" Sherlock asked, framing his question in a particular way, sensing Prof Snape's dislike for the Quidditch Player.

Snape's mouth twisted. "The sticks are something else all right. They belong to Prof. Sudol, believe it or not. She claims Peeves stole them but I think it's just a ploy so she can skip teaching. If they just had a better, a competent teacher." Unlike Prof. McGonagall, Prof Snape did not try to hide his disdain.

"What about those sticks then?"

"They contain foreign magic. Some charm that keeps the wound from healing quickly. Rest assured, whoever played this prank will soon be out of the school in no time."

"Can they do harm on their own?"

"They contain the levitation charm," Snape replied. "The attacker need not be near the attack site. But no magic object acts on it's own accord, Mr. Holmes, unless it's malfunctioning. And the sticks are not."

Sherlock tried to get some more information, but apparently Snape didn't know anything else.

Later that night, at the dinner table, Sherlock did not see Prof. Sudol. She had not yet returned from seeing her friend off. And it was unlikely that she will that night.

So naturally, Sherlock decided to break in her room for some evidence.