Chapter 202 The Founder's Relics

Sherlock was stunned when he saw the petrified Bowtruckle.

He recalled the invincible state just now, and cast the Explosion Spell, Stun Spell and Dancing Spell as soon as he thought about it.

Then he thought about it again and erased all the effects of these spells.

Of course, he couldn't achieve that effect now, but he didn't use the magic wand, and he didn't even have the magic beam after it took effect. He just moved his lips and recited the spell, and it immediately took effect on the set target.

This made Sherlock feel incredible about himself.

Although he could also use some simple Transfiguration and small spells with control magic before, any wizard with a little strength could do these without a wand and without sound.

Now this petrification spell is different.

Even if you look through the entire thick history of magic, you can't find any wizard who can use magic to this extent.

In this disguised form, it can be regarded as the point where words come true!

Sherlock thought about it and recited the spell again.

"Stop the spell."

The moment he cast the spell, the motionless Bowtruckle on the branch returned to normal.

It seemed to be frightened. After it could move normally, it quickly jumped to the top branch and stared at Sherlock with its small eyes.

Sherlock didn't care about its emotions, but turned his head and stared at a small tree that had died for some unknown reason.

"Smash to pieces."

"Bang!"

The spell took effect immediately, and the dry tree trunk shattered on the spot, with wood chips flying everywhere, but there were still large sections of broken wood falling to the ground.

This shattering spell allowed him to see more intuitively the strength of the spell using control magic.

It was very weak, even weaker than when he used control magic to control the wand to cast spells.

And the consumption was still very large. Just a petrification spell, a universal anti-spell and a shattering spell made Sherlock feel tired.

It was obvious that such means could not be used too often.

But even so, Sherlock was still very excited.

He knew very well what this method represented. The most difficult thing in all things was the process of creating something from nothing.

Being strong or not is one thing, and whether it will happen is another.

Besides, there must be other Horcruxes waiting for him later, and the room for improvement of this ability is extremely huge.

Sherlock was in a good mood. He sat in front of Eddie's grave and chatted with him for a while, saying something like "Don't worry, I will help you take care of your daughter in the future", "I haven't forgotten to avenge you, and sooner or later I will send her down to let you see her miserable appearance".

The sun gradually set in the sky.

Seeing that it was getting late, he got up from the ground, snapped his fingers casually, and muttered "clean up" to clean the dirt on his robe, picked up the cracked golden cup and walked out of the forbidden forest.

Back to Hogwarts Castle, Sherlock went directly to the office of Principal Dumbledore and placed the broken golden cup in front of him.

"This is the second one."

Dumbledore stared at the golden cup with deep eyes and saw its origin at a glance.

"Helga Hufflepuff's relics."

"Legend has it that the four founders of Hogwarts left their most precious relics, Gryffindor's sword and Hufflepuff's cup. What are the remaining two?" Sherlock asked.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"No one except the descendants of the two founders knows this, but Ravenclaw's relics may be the crown that can bring wisdom to people."

"You are guessing. Since Riddle can make Hufflepuff's cup into his Horcrux, it is not impossible for him to do the same with the other two unknown relics."

With his wisdom, he can certainly think of the same thing as Sherlock.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Especially since he himself is a descendant of Slytherin."

Dumbledore gently tapped the back of his left hand with his right fingers and said softly.

"I plan to visit Tom's hometown in a while."

Sherlock asked in surprise.

"Does he still have family members alive?"

Dumbledore seemed to recall something, and a trace of reminiscence flashed in his eyes.

"He had an uncle who was alive before, but he was imprisoned in Azkaban for killing three Muggles living in the same town, and he died of illness in that prison."

"But I think there should be some discoveries in the place where his family lives. Are you interested in going with me to see it? Sherlock."

He invited Sherlock, but Sherlock did not agree immediately.

"Wait until you confirm the time. I am not sure if I have anything else to do later."

They chatted about other things for a while, and then Sherlock left the headmaster's office.

After he left, Dumbledore crossed his hands on the table, and the expression on his face made it difficult to tell what kind of emotion he had.

"The founder's relics..." He murmured softly, and then suddenly said to the empty office, "Phineas, please help me invite Mrs. Grey over."

Among the portraits of former headmasters on the wall, a skinny old man opened his sleepy eyes, complained a few words, and then disappeared in the frame.

......

Summer vacation officially began.

Sherlock didn't take the Hogwarts Express back, as that would take a whole day.

He used Apparition to arrive at the door of his home on Magnolia Road. Just as he was about to take out the key to open the door, his eyes were suddenly attracted by a place.

That was the yard of the neighbor's house. Sherlock only lived at home for two months a year, so he had no intersection with the neighbors on both sides.

But he vaguely remembered that the hostess of the family on the left seemed to like red maple trees very much. She planted two trees in the yard and made a swing for her daughter between the two trees. When the golden maple leaves fell in autumn, the scenery was very charming.

It was summer now, and the two red maple trees were lush and leafy, but the most notable thing was not the red leaves swaying in the wind, but the old windmills filled on the treetops.

Sherlock looked at those very familiar windmills without blinking, "Hualala" spinning with the breeze, his mouth wide open, as if he had seen something incredible.

"Is it beautiful?"

An extremely familiar voice sounded behind him.

Sherlock didn't look back, still staring at the windmills full of trees.

"How much did you spend to buy this yard?"

The owner of the voice tilted his head, thinking as if calculating the specific amount.

"Not counting taxes and other expenses, the family received a total of about 200,000 pounds."