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Chapter 83 - 0083 The Fight

Harry thanked Snape.

Snape's face instantly turned ugly.

"Well, how absolutely nauseating. To think I would hear such a word from the mouth of a Gryffindor."

Snape looked at Harry with an extremely uncomfortable tone:

"Potter, has your brain been damaged by a troll, or has someone stuffed dung into it? I don't think what I just did deserves your thanks."

Harry: (—_—)

No wonder Snape made himself so unpopular. He just had that special quality of being able to infuriate people the moment he opened his mouth.

Harry took a deep breath and silently repeated "he's protecting me" several times in his mind before suppressing his strong urge to retort.

Seeing that Harry didn't argue back, Snape was somewhat surprised. However, he then glanced toward the stands and said with malicious glee:

"Unfortunately, your detective friend and troll companion seem to be in trouble."

Harry hurriedly looked in the direction of Snape's gaze.

The battle on the Quidditch pitch had ended, but the battle in the stands was just beginning.

The rain kept falling. The atmosphere was far from harmonious.

Malfoy was curled up in a corner of the muddy stands, his mouth still swollen from Sherlock's punch. Goyle and Crabbe were collapsed like a human pyramid by the railings, having lost their ability to fight.

Sherlock's movements had been too fast—before the three could even draw their wands, they had been efficiently knocked down.

"Gryffindor savages!"

Seeing Malfoy's pitiful state, Pansy Parkinson, a first-year Slytherin, pierced the air with her shrill voice. The next moment, as she waved her wand, a red light shot from its tip.

"Watch out!" Hermione called out in warning.

But Sherlock acted as if he hadn't seen it. He slowly drew his wand, aimed at Parkinson, and said calmly:

"You attacked first—Petrificus Totalus!"

Parkinson's offensive spell had poor aim and only hit a nearby chair. Just as she was about to try again, Sherlock had already hit her with a Full Body-Bind Curse. Her arms and legs snapped together instantly, and her entire body fell to the ground as stiff as a board.

"Save Malfoy!"

"Down with Holmes!"

"Avenge Parkinson!"

As Sherlock successively defeated four Slytherin students, the other little snakes could no longer contain themselves. Someone rallied the cry, and they all rushed forward together.

"Do you think we're dead?" Ron had been itching for a fight. Seeing Sherlock about to be mobbed, he immediately drew his wand: "Brothers, let's charge together!"

Seamus and Dean followed immediately, and after a moment's hesitation, Neville also rushed forward.

The young wizards from both houses drew their wands and began firing spells at each other. However, they quickly discovered this wasn't very efficient, as first-year students hadn't learned many offensive spells. Fists and feet were more effective.

So, most of them simply abandoned their wands and engaged in close combat. Only the young wizards who couldn't squeeze to the front were still sporadically casting spells. In the dense crowd, the hit rate had improved considerably.

Poor Neville was hit by someone's Leg-Locker Curse and took a beating. Hermione quickly intervened, lifting the curse in time. She was about to help when Seamus cast some spell that exploded directly in the crowd, hurting Slytherin students while also striking his own teammates.

Hermione had to cast healing spells to treat her own side.

"Seamus, put your wand away, put it away!" Ron shouted in the chaos. "Just go up there and punch them with your fists!"

As the leader of the lions, Sherlock naturally drew the most hatred. Almost all the little snakes wanted to rush over and get a hit in. Unfortunately, while serving as the tank, he was also dealing the highest damage output.

When a group of fierce-looking little snakes swarmed him, Sherlock remained completely unaffected emotionally, maintaining his rationality and calm.

First, he needed to distract his opponents.

Facing the first little snake to reach him, Sherlock casually threw Neville's pet toad, Trevor—which he had recently helped Neville find and hadn't yet returned to him. It came in handy now.

Trevor, under a Levitation Charm, flew around in the air, croaking wildly. Taking advantage of the moment when the toad blocked his opponent's vision, Sherlock landed a right hook on the cheek of the young wizard charging at him.

K.O. One-hit knockout.

"Despicable!" came Hermione's warning from behind.

But Sherlock was faster—before Hermione could finish speaking, he had already extended his left elbow, perfectly blocking another Slytherin student's sneak attack.

Sherlock didn't think there was anything wrong with this. In a fight, there were only winners and losers—no such thing as despicable or honorable. Besides, this punch seemed full of openings to Sherlock; the only thing worth praising was its force.

After blocking the punch, Sherlock smoothly swung his right fist and knocked his opponent to the ground. The second one.

Stepping left, he delivered a backhand elbow strike to an eager Slytherin's right jaw. "Bang!" The third one.

Attack the right ribs. The fourth one.

Cut through the middle! The fifth one.

Knee strike to the diaphragm. The sixth one.

Sherlock's punches landed with precision, fast and ruthless. No one could take even one of his punches and remain standing—regardless of gender.

Under the leadership of such a powerful teammate, the little lions roared excitedly. Almost instantly, the situation became a one-sided massacre.

At this point, some upper-year Slytherin students began to stir, unable to watch any longer.

Percy Weasley's cold voice rang out: "Control your people, Gemma Farley—or you'll regret it, I guarantee!"

Although students from both houses were fighting, so far only first-years had participated. Since they hadn't learned many offensive spells, while it looked chaotic, it wouldn't cause serious harm. But once upper-year students joined in, the nature would change completely.

"Percy Weasley, Slytherin hasn't fallen to that level," Gemma Farley, the Slytherin prefect, looked coldly at Percy, then swept her gaze over her house's young wizards. Her eyes were full of disappointment.

It was one thing to lose to peers, but to think of bullying younger students? How shameless!

The rain grew heavier.

Seeing the battle about to end, Hermione was about to draw her wand to teach the few students sneaking up on Sherlock from behind a lesson. However, when she caught sight of Professor McGonagall hurrying over, she quickly put her wand away.

Not only that, but she also called out anxiously: "Stop! Don't fight anymore! Please stop fighting!"

In the pouring rain, students from both Gryffindor and Slytherin looked at her in surprise. Was this person ill? Or had the rain gotten into her brain?

"Enough!" Just then, Professor McGonagall's roar accompanied the sound of the wooden stands freezing, and all offensive spells disappeared instantly.

Sherlock's fist also stopped—less than a foot from a young witch's face.

Millicent Bulstrode backed away in terror. This Holmes—he actually hit girls! No, he had already hit girls before!

Professor McGonagall, who had arrived just in time, looked stern and naturally commanding. Her gaze swept over the chaotic stands, the bruised Slytherin students, the jubilant Gryffindor students, and Hermione Granger, who had been trying to break up the fight.

Finally, her eyes settled on the composed Sherlock: "Can someone tell me what happened here?"

Both prefects, Percy Weasley and Gemma Farley, stepped forward to describe the events from their respective perspectives.

"Assaulting fellow students—serious misconduct! Fifty points from Gryffindor! Insulting fellow students and deliberate provocation—ten points from Slytherin! Percy Weasley and Gemma Farley, as prefects who allowed the situation to escalate without intervening—ten points each from both houses! You are the worst class I've ever taught!"

Professor McGonagall's voice was like tempered steel, making everyone present feel a burning sensation that even the heavy rain couldn't extinguish.

"But Professor, it was Malfoy who provoked—"

"Silence, Miss Granger! Holmes threw the first punch!"

Hermione: (—_—)

"Mr. Holmes, as punishment for your disgraceful behavior, I sentence you to detention—tomorrow night at eleven o'clock, report to Mr. Filch in the entrance hall!"

Sherlock didn't defend himself. He had indeed thrown the first punch, and Professor McGonagall's judgment was fair. Besides, this was part of his plan all along.

Not just Sherlock—almost all the little lions in the stands were still excited. Even facing the double punishment of point deduction and detention didn't dampen their spirits.

Only Hermione continued trying: "Professor—please—you can't—"

"Miss Granger, it's not your place to tell me what I can or cannot do! Now, prefects, take your respective house members back to your dormitories immediately!"

Hermione looked dejected and worried. Harry had helped Gryffindor defeat Hufflepuff, but Sherlock single-handedly cost Gryffindor sixty points!

Sixty points! With such a deduction, Gryffindor's chances of winning the House Cup were virtually zero.

After the troll incident, Hermione no longer cared much about points. She was worried about Sherlock. Having lost so many points, he would most likely face ostracism from his classmates.

Although Sherlock himself wouldn't care, she was all too familiar with that feeling—and it wasn't pleasant at all.

Originally, she had hoped to earn back some points through her own performance. Now it seemed she had been too naive.

What Hermione never expected was that when they returned to the Gryffindor common room, a grand celebration was underway.

Not only was Sherlock not ostracized by his classmates, but he was being treated as a returning hero. Also being celebrated were Harry, who had just set a record on the Quidditch pitch and secured victory, and Ron, who had delivered psychological warfare against Malfoy and the other Slytherins.

The Weasley twins had somehow procured a large amount of delicious food. Their friend Lee Jordan gave Sherlock a thumbs up:

"Holmes, Potter, Weasley—worthy of Gryffindor! You didn't let us down!"

"Well done!" "Yes, absolutely brilliant!"

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