From the very first year at Hogwarts, Sherlock had realized the importance of the Forbidden Forest.
As time passed, this point was fully proven.
Common potions need not be mentioned, but potions like Polyjuice Potion, Wolfsbane Potion, and Felix Felicis had exceptionally high brewing difficulty that went without saying.
Among the people Sherlock knew, only Potions Masters like Severus Snape could absolutely succeed in completing their preparation.
Oh yes, now there was also one of Snape's former teachers to add to that list: Professor Horace Slughorn.
But as Professor Lupin had once evaluated the Wolfsbane Potion, for high-difficulty potions, the long and meticulous brewing process was merely one aspect.
Just gathering those expensive and rare raw materials was already an extremely difficult task for the vast majority of wizards.
However, in the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts, you could find almost all the necessary materials.
Stinging nettles, yew wood, oak, fluxweed, and more.
Unicorns, graphorns, bicorns, werewolves, centaurs, acromantulas, trolls, and others.
For precisely this reason, Hagrid's hut had become a golden house glittering with opportunity.
Although during the first three school years, something or other happened at Hogwarts every year, affecting Sherlock's progress in exploring the Forbidden Forest.
But by now, there was no longer any place in the entire Forbidden Forest that could stop Sherlock.
Even the acromantula territory that people spoke of with such dread, which Hagrid had single-handedly created, Sherlock could navigate as if walking on flat ground.
Of course, with his current strength, he still couldn't confront the acromantula colony head-on.
But avoiding the acromantulas' detection was quite simple for him, even without an Invisibility Cloak.
No one knew that Sherlock had already obtained quite a few rare materials from the Forbidden Forest.
Through steady accumulation leading to abundant release, by this school year, Sherlock had already developed the idea of personally brewing potions, which meant he needed quite a few raw materials.
Because of his prejudice against Gryffindor House and his deliberate avoidance of Sherlock, Snape, the Potions Master, had not discovered Sherlock's talent in potions.
However, Sherlock himself was not at all surprised by this.
After all, in his view, Potions shared common ground with Biology and Chemistry from Muggle subjects.
And these two subjects happened to be Sherlock's strong suits.
Hermione had once specifically written a list of subjects that Sherlock Holmes excelled at. The three friends all thought Sherlock didn't know about this matter.
In fact, Sherlock was perfectly aware of it.
Regarding what Hermione had written, he merely smiled and let it pass.
The Hermione of that time didn't understand him well enough. How could what she wrote possibly be correct? It was nothing more than stereotypical impressions extended from first impressions.
If Hermione were asked to write it again today, she wouldn't write it the way she had before.
Of course, on another note, this was also related to the fact that Sherlock had been continuously growing these past few years.
This was the first nighttime exploration of the Forbidden Forest in fourth year. The process need not be described in detail.
Simply put, Sherlock once again encountered the unicorn he had previously helped.
With its assistance, Sherlock returned with a full load.
Add to that the fact that he had set out early enough today, which meant he returned much earlier than usual.
By the time he returned to the Gryffindor common room, he carried with him a trace of the night's coolness and fatigue.
However, he was surprised that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were still here.
Originally, Sherlock had thought Harry was writing his Divination homework with Ron.
After all, they had been discussing this during dinner.
As for Hermione, she should have just returned from the library, so her presence here wasn't surprising.
However, Sherlock's gaze swept over the three of them, and he immediately realized the situation wasn't that simple.
Time rewound to a quarter of an hour earlier.
After Parvati and Lavender had sensibly left, Hermione didn't continue to demand Harry's homework.
Because just from looking at Ron's homework, she had already realized what the problem was.
Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were both Hermione's roommates. Hermione understood these two quite well.
For precisely this reason, she found it impossible to comprehend.
Two roommates helping two friends, and helping them deceive the teacher no less?
This was altogether too bizarre.
"You can tell at a glance that you just made this up out of thin air. And they actually helped you fabricate it together?"
"How dare you say that!" Ron pretended to be indignant. "We've been working hard here all evening, toiling like house-elves!"
The reason it was pretend indignation was because he had already completed his homework with Lavender's help, and was in quite a good mood at the moment.
However, upon hearing this statement, Hermione immediately raised her eyebrows.
"I'm sorry, I misspoke," Ron quickly said.
From Sherlock, he had learned that Hermione had been frequenting the library recently to fight for house-elf rights.
Although he inwardly strongly disagreed, Ron felt there was no need to argue with Hermione over such a trivial matter, so he hastily apologized.
Hearing this, Harry also set down his quill. He had just predicted he would be beheaded, though at Parvati's reminder, he had changed it to hair loss.
However, seeing the atmosphere was off at the moment, he immediately pointed to the boxes Hermione was carrying and asked, "Hermione, what's in those boxes?"
When Harry asked about this, Hermione stopped dwelling on the two of them taking shortcuts with their homework.
Actually, she had only been teasing them to begin with.
In her view, attending Divination class was a waste of time.
Taking shortcuts on homework for this course wasn't unacceptable.
What she truly cared about was Ron's way of putting it.
So, he knew house-elves worked hard after all!
Thinking of this, she lifted the lid irritably to show them what was inside.
The box contained about fifty badges in various colors, all bearing the same letters.
S.P.E.W.
"Spew? Or spit?" Harry picked up a badge and examined it carefully. "What does this mean?"
"It's not spew, and it's not spit," Hermione said impatiently when she heard Harry had misunderstood her meaning. "It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, abbreviated as S-P-E-W."
"Never heard of it," Ron shook his head. "So, this is what you've been running to the library to research?"
"Of course you haven't heard of it," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Because I just founded it."
"Huh?"
Ron was somewhat surprised.
After he realized what Hermione was actually saying, he couldn't help but let out another "Huh."
"So, how many members do you have now?"
"Well, if you two join, there'll be three," Hermione said, then looked around. "Add Sherlock and that makes four. By the way, where did he go? Has he already gone to bed?"
"I don't know where he went," Harry said honestly.
Ron was more concerned with another matter. "You think we'd be willing to walk around wearing badges that say 'spew'?"
"I'll say it again, it's S-P-E-W, not spew!" Hermione said angrily. "I originally wanted to name it 'The Movement for the Prohibition of Cruel Treatment of Our Magical Creature Friends and the Improvement of Their Legal Status'..."
When she said this, both Harry and Ron showed expressions of horror.
"...but that wasn't quite suitable."
Thank goodness.
The two exchanged glances and thought silently.
But then Hermione added, "So I made that the title of our organization's manifesto instead."
"..."
Hermione waved the roll of parchment in her hand and continued, "These past few days, I've been deeply researching this issue in the library. The enslavement of house-elves can be traced back several centuries. I can't believe no one has ever taken action about this."
"Hermione, listen carefully," Ron said loudly. "They like it! They like being slaves!"
"Our short-term goal is to ensure house-elves receive reasonable wages and good working conditions," Hermione said, ignoring Ron's loud declaration.
Her voice was even louder than Ron's. "Our long-term goal is to change the law forbidding elves from using wands. And to fight for getting an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Because the shocking lack of representation for elves' interests must be addressed."
Compared to Ron, who treated the whole thing as a joke, Harry was much more tolerant.
With a give-it-a-try attitude, he asked, "So... how are we supposed to achieve all this?"
"First, we need to recruit members," Hermione said with high spirits. "I think all participants should pay two Sickles for a badge. This income can be used to print flyers. Ron, you're the treasurer. I've prepared a money box for you upstairs. Harry, you're the secretary. You need to write down everything I say now as minutes of our first meeting."
"...So, you're planning to appoint yourself president of spew... sorry, S-P-E-W?"
"No, I'm planning to serve as Executive Vice President."
"Then who's the president?" Ron asked curiously.
"Sherlock," Hermione said firmly. "As the Lion King of Gryffindor, his appeal is unparalleled."
"Are you mad?" Ron couldn't hold back anymore.
He felt this whole thing was utterly ridiculous. "I'm telling you, Hermione, never mind whether Sherlock would agree to be president of this S-P-E-W thing. Even if he actually agreed, believe me or not, his influence in Gryffindor would drop significantly because of this!"
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Hermione said firmly. "You simply don't understand Sherlock!"
"..."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Hermione looked at them both happily.
Harry sat there, both annoyed by Hermione's behavior and amused by the expression on Ron's face.
Finally, the silence was broken, but it wasn't Ron who spoke.
From the look of him, he seemed temporarily unable to speak.
The three of them heard footsteps at the door.
"Sherlock!" Hermione called out excitedly.
"Perfect timing!" Harry also breathed a long sigh of relief.
Sherlock, just stepping into the common room, was slightly stunned by this scene.
He had a bulging dragonhide bag slung diagonally over his shoulder, with a few patches of dark Forbidden Forest moss still clinging to the edges.
He subtly tightened the bag, his gaze sweeping over the three people who were staring at him expectantly.
Finally, it settled on the box of colorful badges Hermione was holding up, and the roll of parchment on the table with the organization's manifesto written on it.
"What's going on?" Sherlock's voice carried inquiry, his gaze settling on Hermione's face. "From your expression, you seem quite excited?"
Hermione was radiant, eagerly stepping forward. "Sherlock! We just founded an important organization! We really need someone like you to be president!"
Sherlock's eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly.
His reaction wasn't simply anger or excitement, but more like pure, sudden confusion.
"SPEW?"
He unconsciously repeated the abbreviation.
Even for Sherlock, there was no way to deduce what this abbreviation meant.
So, his tone was one of steady questioning, his gaze sweeping in turn over Hermione, Harry, and Ron's faces.
Ron had quickly covered his face the moment Sherlock entered, and his shoulders were suspiciously shaking.
Harry sat there with an expression both embarrassed and helpless.
He wanted to explain but didn't know where to start.
In the end, he could only slightly spread his hands, using his gaze to direct Sherlock's attention to the pile of badges and the parchment in Hermione's hand.
"S-P-E-W! The full name is Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare! The House-Elf Rights Promotion Society!" Hermione immediately corrected, her voice loud and fervent. "Sherlock, I think you were right. Going on a hunger strike to defend house-elf rights has no meaning whatsoever. So, we can't continue to ignore the unjust treatment house-elves receive! For centuries they've been..."
Sherlock listened to Hermione's manifesto narrative, which flowed as if someone had pressed a start button, while unhurriedly walking to an empty armchair near the fireplace and carefully setting down the heavy dragonhide bag at his feet.
The bag hit the floor with a dull sound, as if something inside with hard edges was pressing against the leather.
He turned around and calmly interrupted Hermione's impassioned speech, his gaze falling directly on her eyes.
"Wait, Hermione. You said you need me to be what?"
"President!" Hermione said with expectation and certainty. "Only you have such prestige and influence! We need your name and strength to push this forward!"
The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds.
The flames in the fireplace crackled and popped.
Ron peeked through his fingers with one eye, stealing glances at Sherlock's expression.
Harry nervously gripped his quill. According to Hermione's request, he needed to keep minutes of this meeting.
Sherlock didn't respond immediately.
His keen eyes swept once more over the badges on the table marked with "S.P.E.W.", finally fixing on Hermione's face, which was slightly flushed from excitement.
After a moment, a mixture of incredulous astonishment and an extremely profound, difficult-to-read complex emotion appeared on his face.
Even his three best friends had never seen such an expression on Sherlock's face before.
"President of the House-Elf Rights Promotion Society?"
He slowly and clearly repeated this title.
His tone wasn't questioning, but more like confirming an absurd reality that exceeded his logical understanding.
He looked at Hermione, this know-it-all Miss of Gryffindor.
In her eyes burned an unwavering fire of passion and justice. She didn't realize at all that she was trying to stuff someone who had just returned from the Forbidden Forest after dealing with unicorns and acromantulas, whose mind was still calculating how to secretly brew potions, into a position fighting for kitchen elves' rights to use wands.
Sherlock maintained his silence. That astonishment rippled and settled in his deep eyes like waves on water.
Even Sherlock Holmes needed a bit of time to digest this sudden news.
After all, compared to his potion plans, this seemed so utterly out of place.
He hadn't expected that after Hermione had been working on something for a while, this was what she came up with?
The air in the common room was so quiet that only the crackling of flames remained.
Ron couldn't help but let out a weak, desperate whimper that leaked through his fingers.
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