Chapter 28: To Me, the Brain Is a Hard Drive

The Earth orbits the Sun, and the Moon orbits the Earth.

This is common knowledge, whether in a Muggle household or a wizarding one. Harry and Ron, however, stared at Sherlock as if they had seen a ghost.

All this time, Sherlock had impressed them as someone who knew everything, as if there were nothing in the world he was unaware of. Even if he didn't know something, it didn't matter; he could simply observe and use deductive reasoning to arrive at the answer.

But what was this?

Hermione could not help but blurt out, "You—you actually don't know that the Earth revolves around the Sun?"

It was truly hard to imagine that anyone in the 20th century could be ignorant of such a fact.

"You seem surprised?" Watching their expressions, Sherlock chuckled. "Even if I did know these things, I would strive to forget them."

"Forget them? Why?"

Sherlock tapped his skull with his finger.

"To me, the brain is like a hard drive; it only makes sense to store useful information. Ordinary people often fill their brains with rubbish, and the consequence of that is that the knowledge they actually need gets squeezed out. When the time comes that you truly need to learn something, you will find it difficult."

"But this is about the solar system!" Hermione’s eyes were wide, her expression still one of complete disbelief.

"So what?" Sherlock replied with an impatient, blunt tone. "You say we revolve around the Sun, but even if we revolved around the Moon or circled the garden like a bear, it would have no impact on me or my life, would it? So, please, stop torturing me with your lofty wisdom!"

Hermione: Σ(°△°|||)︴

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance.

*He makes such a good point that I find myself speechless.*

Seeming to sense that his tone had been a bit excessive, Sherlock added, "Apologies, I seem to have been a bit rude... but that is unimportant. I suppose I shall have to remember these things from today on—at least until this course becomes an elective."

Hermione: ￣△￣

That day, the entire class of first-years deepened their understanding of Sherlock. As for Hermione, she realized she had misunderstood him all along.

***

This man is nothing like me!

After the Transfiguration and Charms classes on Thursday, the final day of the school week arrived.

"Having classes with Slytherin is bad enough, but having Potions with them is absolutely dreadful!"

According to the schedule, the Gryffindor first-years were to have a double period of Potions with the Slytherin students. This turned every Friday into a Black Friday for the Gryffindors.

"Snape is the Head of Slytherin House; they say he favors his own students."

The grim news dampened Ron’s appetite, and he sat gloomily looking at the food on the table.

"Professor Snape?"

When Ron spoke the name, the image of a man with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin appeared in the minds of both Sherlock and Harry. For Sherlock, it was due to his exceptional observational and memory skills. For Harry, there was an additional reason.

"Sherlock, at the opening feast, Professor Snape was staring at me..."

However, just as he was about to tell Sherlock and hear his thoughts, a hundred or so owls suddenly flew into the Great Hall.

Among the flock of delivery owls, a beautiful snowy owl flapped its wings and landed between Harry’s jam pot and sugar bowl, dropping a note onto his plate.

"Hedwig?" Harry was quite surprised.

Up until now, this owl, which Hagrid had given him as a birthday present, had never brought him anything. Unlike Sherlock’s Watson, who always brought little surprises from time to time.

"Hagrid is inviting you for afternoon tea," Sherlock said without looking up.

"Sherlock, did you learn a spell from Professor Flitwick that lets you see through paper?"

After saying this, Ron found it amusing himself and couldn't help but laugh out loud. But he stopped mid-laugh, because the expression on Harry’s face as he read the note suggested that Sherlock had not been wrong.

"He got it right again?" he muttered under his breath.

Harry nodded and pushed the note over to Ron. It read in scrawled handwriting:

*Dear Harry: I know you have no classes on Friday afternoon. Would you like to come over for tea around three o'clock? I am very curious to hear how your first week has been. Please let Hedwig bring me an answer.*

The two could not help but look at each other. Although they had witnessed Sherlock’s abilities more than once, every time a new situation arose, they were still struck with amazement.

"Bloody hell! How on earth did you deduce that?"

"Deduce what?"

"I mean... how did you know this letter was from Hagrid, and that he was inviting Harry for tea?"

"I don't have the time for such trivialities."

Sherlock’s tone was not friendly, much like it had been with Hermione on Wednesday night. But just as Ron was about to say something, Sherlock smiled.

"Forgive my rudeness, as you interrupted my train of thought, but it is no matter. So, you couldn't tell that this letter was from Hagrid to Harry?"

"At least not before opening it."

"Understanding the fact is relatively easy, but explaining how I arrived at it is somewhat difficult. It is much like asking you to prove that one plus one equals two; you would inevitably find it difficult, though we both know it is an indisputable fact."

Meeting the inquisitive gazes of Harry and Ron, Sherlock thought for a moment and decided to explain:

"Just now, I saw Hedwig flying toward you from several tables away with a note tied to her leg; that naturally meant someone had written to you. The Dursleys would not write to you on a normal day, and as a first-year, you don't know many people at the school of magic. Most are just students you eat and attend classes with, and they wouldn't use owls to contact you. Every time Hedwig comes, she begs you for a piece of toast, but today she didn't, which clearly means she had already been fed. The person with the means to feed her, who is on friendly terms with you at school, and who would use an owl to send a message—of the people who fit those three criteria, I can only think of Mr. Rubeus Hagrid. As for the content of the letter, it is easy to guess: as the friend who brought you to the school, it is perfectly normal for him to want to know how your first week went. And since we only have this afternoon free all week—based on all these circumstances, I was certain that Hagrid was inviting you for afternoon tea."

"Brilliant!"

"Absolutely marvelous!"

Harry and Ron exclaimed, causing those nearby to glance over at them.