Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor: No More, No Less

Chapter 15: Crescent Moon

"I take back what I said earlier," George mumbled as he watched Sherlock, wand in hand, confronting Malfoy.

Fred, equally excited, chimed in, "I take it back too. I admit it, I misjudged Professor Forrest. Percy doesn't even deserve to carry his shoes!"

Percy, once again the innocent target of their teasing, glared at Fred and George, visibly frustrated.

After seeing Malfoy get punched, Harry and Ron exchanged excited glances.

"I think our Defense Against the Dark Arts class this semester is going to be awesome!" Harry said, grinning.

"Definitely better than Quirrell's class," Ron added.

Mrs. Weasley hurried over to Sherlock, her face filled with concern as she checked him for any injuries. Her eyes welled up with tears of relief as she inspected him.

"Sherlock, you shouldn't have rushed into that fight! Your Uncle Weasley has set a bad example for you. But… oh, you're not the same as before. I don't know what to say... maybe you've grown up. But that's a good thing."

Malfoy didn't even have a chance to retaliate, but Mr. Weasley was still visibly shaken, his face flushed with emotion. However, even Mr. Weasley didn't focus on his own situation for long. Instead, he placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, his smile a mix of relief, pride, and joy.

"I knew this day would come, Sherlock. I knew it," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Though Sherlock's actions had been completely out of character, he maintained his usual cold demeanor, responding with a hint of detachment.

"People always grow up. It's not too late for me. And that person just made a rude comment."

Sherlock was trying to maintain a balance: projecting an exterior that was cold but inwardly warm, so that the Weasleys wouldn't feel too surprised by his change in behavior. He needed to avoid making his transformation too abrupt.

He then walked over to a nearby bookshelf, selecting a few textbooks he would need for his first year at Hogwarts, and placed them in front of the cashier.

"First years should use new textbooks when they can. It's my gift to you," he said, handing the new books to Ginny, who smiled brightly in response. He carefully placed the old textbook from her cauldron back into the pile of second-hand books and added the new ones to her cauldron.

"I hope you do well once school starts. I've got other things to attend to. We'll talk later. I'll be on my way," Sherlock said before turning to leave.

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to say something, but Sherlock didn't wait for her to stop him. He walked out of the Lichen Bookstore, leaving the Weasleys and Harry staring after him. There was something inexplicably striking about his straight-backed departure.

Mr. Weasley looked at the new textbook in Ginny's cauldron with a wistful sigh.

"Sherlock's really changed. Sally would be so happy to see him like this," he murmured.

Mrs. Weasley wiped away a tear. "Poor child… he must have suffered so much living alone, yet he's so thoughtful."

Harry and Ron excitedly discussed how they'd tease him about Malfoy's beating once school started.

Fred and George were imitating Sherlock's punch, saying it looked much cooler than using magic, and they were even brainstorming ideas for magical boxing gloves.

Ginny was happily flipping through her new textbook, Hermione was engrossed in a book about Hogwarts' history, and Percy was searching for a book on how prefects should manage students.

They didn't leave the bookstore until Hagrid, the Hogwarts Keeper of the Keys, passed by and waved hello.

However, no one noticed that amidst the pile of old books Sherlock had returned to Ginny's cauldron, one particularly worn diary lay quietly, as if it had always been there.

Two days later, an elderly witch entered the bookstore with her shy grandson, Neville.

"These old books often contain the wisdom of the past. Some of them might be very helpful to you, Neville. Go ahead and pick a few."

Neville nervously sifted through the stack of old books, paying for his selections along with his new textbooks. He never noticed the diary among the pile of old books — a diary that, despite its wear and tear, had no words written in it.

Sherlock had planned to leave Diagon Alley quickly after his time in the bookstore. The burning sensation in his left arm had intensified when he touched Malfoy, but it gradually faded, leaving him with no further sensation.

Something about the whole situation felt off, and Sherlock was eager to return home and examine his left arm in more detail. He wanted to understand why it had reacted to Malfoy's presence and see if the original owner's diary contained any clues.

After picking up his custom-made robes from Mrs. Mokin's shop and retrieving the owl he had ordered earlier from the magical pet store, Sherlock wrapped up his trip to Diagon Alley.

Upon arriving home, he hurried to the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and stood in front of the full-length mirror. His eyes immediately caught something unusual on his left arm.

A crescent-shaped birthmark covered more than a third of the skin above his left arm. Sherlock hadn't noticed it before, but now he was certain it wasn't a normal birthmark. It hadn't appeared until after his encounter with Malfoy, and the reaction in his arm only confirmed that it was connected to something beyond his understanding.

But what did it mean? And why had it only started to react now?

He spent the next day carefully reading through the original owner's diary, searching for any mention of the mark. In addition, Sherlock sifted through the original owner's magical experiment records but found no explanation. However, there was an old photograph of the original owner during their student days. From the photo, Sherlock deduced that the mark had been present on the original owner's arm long before Sherlock had arrived in this world.

But why had the mark remained dormant for twenty years before suddenly reacting after Malfoy's presence? Sherlock couldn't figure it out.

Still, he had no time to dwell on it.

The end of August was approaching, and with it, the start of the new school year at Hogwarts. Tomorrow was September 1st, the day the Hogwarts Express would depart.

Sherlock had to prepare for his journey to the magical school. He had a ticket given to him by Professor McGonagall, and the only way to get to Hogwarts was to take the train from King's Cross Station.