PotterLock Down (A Crossover Fanfiction)

Chapter 8: The Game is On

The tall man in the dark wool jacket fixed his piercing blue eyes on the Headmaster of Hogwarts and said, "Hello there, I am Inspector Sherlock Holmes of the Department of Divination. You must be Albus Dumbledore?"

"I am," said Dumbledore, while McGonagall peered closely at the badge this man carried.
"Department of Divination, indeed! What might you be doing here, Inspector Holmes?"

Holmes gave a polite nod to the witch. "I have been sent by the Ministry to investigate the recent events surrounding the pending expulsion of one Harry Potter."

The only person on which these words had no perceptible effect was Professor Severus Snape.

Professor McGonagall indicated her opinion on the matter with a flick of her wrist. "And what, pray, have you divined thus far?"

Holmes nodded to the dignified witch. "That remains to be seen, Madam. Might I be allowed to view the student's lodging?"

Professor McGonagall's expression tightened. "Harry's or Emory's?"

"The first-year, Master Harville, of course."

A tiny sigh escaped her. "Oh, of course; follow me."

Holmes paused in the doorway to shake hands with the other professors.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, his bright eyes twinkling merrily behind the billowing white beard.
Snape only clasped his hand, muttering what could have been a greeting, but Sherlock felt a tingling sensation pass through his hand, up his arm, all the way to his head. He pulled away none too harshly and turned to follow Professor McGonagall.

A high-pitched cackle rang about his ears as he saw to his horror that one McGonagall had become three, all heading down different hallways! As Sherlock was trying to deduce which one to follow, a small body hurtled at his head with a loud, rude sound.

"Which one, Diviner?
This joke couldn't be finer!
Don't be a whiner—
You'll get left behind-er!"

Holmes stared at the creature hovering over his head: a small, round body, a wide, toothy grin, and round staring eyes greeted him. Holmes was about to pass by and ignore the strange apparition, but it morphed into a miniaturized version of Holmes himself, pulling a badge out of his pocket.

"Ho-ho! Lookit me! I can get into Hogwarts with my cover spells and magic-scented perfume, but Peeves knows! Peeves can smell an Ugly-Muggle-y from a mile away! You can't outwit a poltergeist!"

"Poltergeist? How bloody perfect!" Holmes didn't like worrying about being exposed right out of the hat. He glanced at Peeves. "Then I guess you'd be the one who created this illusion?"

He pointed to the Three McGonagalls, who had nearly reached the ends of their respective hallways. "Which one will you follow? Pick the wrong one and you'll slam into a wall!"

"And if I pick the right one, what happens? You'll leave me alone?"

"Perhaps!" Peeves stuck out his tongue and wagged it as his eyes rolled around in his head.

Holmes studied the three figures. At a glance they were identical, but peering closely, Holmes could see a faint, wavering sheen over two of the women. He chose the one on the right, which had no sheen. Peeves and the other two illusions vanished in a burst of flatulence.

Sherlock caught up to Professor McGonagall just as she arrived at a room full of staircases at impossible angles. As Sherlock followed her, the next staircase would automatically connect in the direction they needed, so that one would hardly have to break one's stride. Sherlock saw groups of students, robed and wearing patches of either yellow, green, blue, or red.