Sherlock skipping Defence Against the Dark Arts made Harry and Ron envy him to no end—they wanted to do the same, but didn't dare.
After all, skipping class could earn you a warning, cost your House points, or even land you in detention.
Even the mischievous Weasley twins wouldn't openly pull a stunt like that.
But Sherlock didn't care at all.
There was only one class a week, and he'd already dodged the first one with a well-timed excuse.
If Quirrell tried docking points next time, Sherlock could just earn them back from another professor.
And if things ever got to the point of detention—well, he had ways of dealing with that too.
Unlike Sherlock, who clearly favored certain subjects, Hermione Granger was the model student every teacher adored.
Never late. Never absent.
She prepared before every class, paid attention, eagerly answered questions, and diligently completed all her homework.
Even the dull-as-dust History of Magic and Quirrell's useless lectures were no exceptions.
That was where she and Sherlock differed.
But they also shared something in common—they both spent every weekend holed up in the library.
Sherlock buried himself in books to better understand the wizarding world.
Books in Diagon Alley were expensive. Now that he had access to them for free, of course he was going to make full use of it.
Hermione, on the other hand, was focused on her classwork.
Since the two had met even before term started, their relationship had grown closer with time.
And through their interactions, Sherlock had discovered something surprising: Hermione was incredibly useful.
Beyond academic discussions, she was also excellent at helping him gather information.
Back during the Sorting, the Sorting Hat had told Sherlock that Ravenclaw was full of "walking encyclopedias"—though once school started, he'd become so engrossed in magic that he hadn't had time to seek them out.
He never expected one of those "encyclopedias" to be right beside him all along.
The most classic example?
He finally found out why Voldemort had targeted Harry.
Hermione had come across a rumor:
Back then, Voldemort had heard a prophecy.
Although it was meant to be kept secret, the prophecy leaked after Voldemort's downfall.
It spoke of a child born at the end of July, from a wizarding family, who would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord.
Harry fit that description perfectly.
Even if it was just a rumor, the outcome had proven it startlingly accurate.
And that wasn't all—Hermione had helped with many other things, each one making Sherlock appreciate her more.
There was no need to list them all.
Suffice it to say, the two of them stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the first-year Gryffindors, who were usually busy chasing adventure.
It made one wonder if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake—weren't these two better suited for Ravenclaw?
One evening, as usual, Hermione reminded Sherlock it was time to leave the library.
"Holmes, it's closing time. We need to go."
"Thank you, Ms. Granger."
Hermione had always considered herself a serious student, but after seeing Sherlock read for an entire day—without moving, eating, or even shifting his posture, she began to question her own discipline.
They walked out of the library side by side.
Halfway down the corridor, Sherlock suddenly turned to her and said, "Go ahead."
Hermione blinked in surprise. "Go ahead? Go ahead with what?"
"You've been wanting to ask me something, haven't you? I'm saying you can."
"How did you—"
Hermione was stunned. She had been wanting to ask him something.
But she hadn't said a word!
"Ms. Granger, you might not believe me, but these things are obvious to me."
"Explaining would be a waste of time, so I suggest you just ask."
Annoyed by his smug tone, Hermione huffed—but he wasn't wrong.
Taking a deep breath, she finally voiced the question that had been bugging her for weeks:
"That day… back at the Leaky Cauldron—how did you know my parents were dentists?"
"That's all?"
Seeing the irritated look on her face, Sherlock laughed.
"All right, let's call it a thank-you—for always reminding me when the library is closing.
"You already know I've developed the habit of making deductions based on observation."
"Or more accurately, it's a kind of intuition-based analysis. So when I make a conclusion, it often feels automatic."
"But when someone asks how I did it, I realize there is a process."
Hermione listened closely.
"First, I noticed from your family's clothing and demeanor that your household is quite well-off.
"Second, when your parents were looking over the school supply list, they had a distinct posture—calm, confident, and composed. That's common among medical professionals.
"High income plus that behavior strongly suggested they were doctors.
"Then, during their conversation with my parents, I saw them instinctively glance at my parents' teeth—more than once.
"That's a habit that's hard to suppress.
"So I concluded they were dentists.
"The entire chain of thought lasted less than a second. That's why I blurted it out."
"I remember your parents looked rather surprised."
When he finished, Hermione's mouth was slightly open in shock.
Ever since term started, she'd spent every weekend with Sherlock in the library. She'd seen his deduction skills in action plenty of times.
But hearing him lay out, in detail, how he'd figured out her parents' profession—that still left her stunned.
It took her a while to recover.
Finally, she said admiringly, "Hearing you explain it like that… it really does seem simple.
"When Potter and Weasley told me about it, I thought they were exaggerating."
"I never imagined there could be someone like Dupin from Edgar Allan Poe's stories in real life."
At that, Sherlock turned and gave her a penetrating look.
Hermione shrank back slightly. "What? What is it?"
"You must think comparing me to Dupin is a compliment."
Sherlock gave a cold laugh. "But in my opinion, he's hardly worthy of praise."
"He always has to sit in silence for fifteen minutes before suddenly revealing his friend's secrets—that kind of parlor trick is just shallow.
"Sure, he had some analytical ability. But he's nowhere near the extraordinary genius Poe imagined him to be."
Hermione: Σ(｀д′*ノ)ノ
He'd seen right through her.
Yes—she had thought comparing Sherlock to the world's first fictional detective was a compliment.
Now she felt utterly deflated.
Unwilling to give up, she fired back, "You must have read Agatha Christie. What do you think of Poirot?"
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Side Info(Sherlock's canon words):
"No doubt you think that you are complimenting me in comparing me to Dupin,"
"Now, in my opinion, Dupin was a very inferior fellow. That trick of his of breaking in on his friends' thoughts with an apropos remark after a quarter of an hour's silence is really very showy and superficial. He had some analytical genius, no doubt; but he was by no means such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine."
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