Chapter 37: Deduction Is Not Divination

Before Madam Hooch’s whistle could even sound, a figure had already bolted forward.

Neville Longbottom.

The reason for his premature start was that, having hit wall after wall since the term began, a powerful desire had taken root deep in his heart: "Teacher, I am so eager to improve!"

In fact, the moment he made the move, he already knew he was finished. At that instant, his entire eleven years of life flashed before his eyes. Was he going to die? They said people only recalled their life’s journey when death was imminent. What a pity... Grandma had once said that, originally, he might have had a chance to be the Savior...

Just as he felt certain he was doomed, a powerful resistance suddenly came from behind. A pair of strong arms grabbed him and, with extreme force, held him firmly in place. It was like a car that had shifted into first gear and slammed on the gas, only to be brought to a sudden halt by a stomp on the brakes. The car remained stationary, its rear wheels spinning incessantly. The tail of Neville’s broomstick maintained a high-frequency tremor, as if unwilling to be conquered in such an un-magical way.

However, it was completely futile. All the broomsticks used for lessons had a basic Summoning Charm applied to their surfaces, though the range and effect were limited. They were just like driver’s education cars—meeting the bare minimum of economic requirements: as long as it worked, it was enough. So, no matter how much it struggled, it was to no avail. The more it struggled, the more excited the person holding it back seemed to be. That was exactly what made it interesting.

Everyone was stunned by the scene. Sherlock! He had managed to forcibly hold back Neville, who was about to take off, all by himself. And how did he have such incredible strength? In the tug-of-war between the two, the broom finally gave up. The result was that Neville had only managed to inch forward a single body length, unable to lift off at all.

"Merlin’s beard!" Madam Hooch was the first to react. She shouted the wizarding world’s common exclamation while rushing toward Neville. No one knew better than she what would have happened if Neville had taken off prematurely. A person who couldn't control a broomstick flying into the sky—if they were lucky, they’d just break a wrist. If they were unlucky... well, it was hard to say which part they might break.

She checked Neville’s body, still shaken, while sincerely thanking Sherlock: "Thank you so much! Are you alright, child?"

"The broomstick’s initial thrust is quite strong, but if you are prepared, it is not difficult to handle," Sherlock said, shaking his arm and speaking truthfully.

"You are so strong. It’s hard to imagine that someone who looks so thin could have such power..." Once she was sure Neville was fine, a relieved Madam Hooch asked with belated surprise: "By the way, how did you know the boy was going to act early? You haven't started Divination classes yet, have you?"

Hearing Madam Hooch’s question, every student pricked up their ears. After all, in the magical world, foresight was incredibly mysterious. The very fact that the Savior would end the Dark Lord's reign had been revealed through the form of a prophecy. However, the Savior in that prophecy knew full well that this had nothing to do with Divination. Sherlock must have judged that Neville would get into trouble through some detail others had failed to notice. Ron and Hermione shared this thought, as they had both witnessed Sherlock’s prowess more than once.

Sherlock did not disappoint them.

"This has nothing to do with Divination..." Sherlock pointed to Neville and explained calmly and composedly: "When people are overly nervous, they secrete hormones like adrenaline, dopamine, and cortisol. Under their influence, they often do things that defy reason. It was obvious; through some of his movements, I easily judged this and took emergency measures in advance."

"Obvious?" Madam Hooch couldn't quite keep up with Sherlock’s train of thought.

"Yes. For example, the knuckles turning white from gripping the handle, the abnormal rhythmic twitching of his limbs, and his unusually flushed face... Of course, most importantly, I know this classmate’s personality, so I deduced there was a high probability he would, fearing he might be left on the ground, decide to take off early."

"But, how do you know what what-you-call-it hormones people secrete when they are nervous..."

"Adrenaline, dopamine, cortisol—it’s common sense, Madam Hooch."

Madam Hooch: (눈_눈)

*How come I don’t know this kind of common sense!*

After Sherlock finished speaking, everyone was left dumbfounded. Only Harry, Ron, and Hermione wore expressions of "as expected." Harry looked at Sherlock with admiration. Although it had happened more than once, he felt the same way every time something similar occurred. Before Sherlock explained, he thought things were unfathomable. After Sherlock explained, the logic seemed so simple.

Regardless, Sherlock’s actions had saved Neville, and Madam Hooch generously awarded Gryffindor six points. Sherlock was satisfied; this would offset the loss of missing two Defense Against the Dark Arts classes.

After the commotion, the rest of the flying lesson proceeded normally. Most students performed well and successfully completed their first test flight. Except for Neville. He was forbidden by Hooch from flying for the remainder of the lesson.

Neville didn't seem to mind. He took out a glass ball filled with white smoke and said to Hermione, who was also left on the ground: "Grandma knows I’m always forgetful, so she had an owl send me a Remembrall. It tells you if you’ve forgotten something. You hold it tight like this, and if it turns red, it means you’ve forgotten something..."

He stopped mid-sentence. The moment he gripped it, the Remembrall suddenly turned bright red.

Neville: Σ(っ°Д°;)っ

Hermione: |(*′口`)

Neville immediately began desperately trying to recall what he had forgotten. Hermione sighed and looked up at the sky. She hadn't been forbidden from flying, but during her test flight, she had discovered a very frustrating fact: she wasn't good at flying. While she wasn't as bad as Neville, compared to the ease with which she handled other subjects, flying was significantly worse. Especially when she reached a certain altitude, she didn't dare look down. Otherwise, her trembling legs would make it impossible to continue.

Being stubborn, she naturally wouldn't give up like that. Unfortunately, after several attempts, she still couldn't overcome the fear and had to return to the ground to rest. Of course, her performance was considered a pass by Madam Hooch, but in Hermione’s eyes, anything short of excellence was a failure. Especially since she couldn't even manage a "good" rating, just a bare "pass."

Moreover... Hermione looked up. It was one thing for Harry and Sherlock to be better than her, but even that red-headed boy from the Weasley family and Seamus, who caused explosions in class every other day, seemed to handle it with ease. As someone with such a competitive nature, she truly found it hard to bear.