Kapitel 110: Chapter 110: Daredevil Con Man

Over fifty wands hovered ominously behind the unsuspecting goblin, each one glowing with a faint red hue at the moment Professor Sherlock Forester uttered his incantation. Noticing the sudden change in atmosphere, the goblin, who had been roughly dragging Jonathan and Fleur, instantaneously became on alert, his eyes bulging in disbelief at the sight of the oppressive horde of wands now surrounding him. In vain, he rolled sharply to one side in a desperate attempt to evade the imminent attack.

However, the red lights flashed unforgivingly! Due to the varying attributes of the wands and Sherlock's subsequent inability to fully harness them, the spells were somewhat disjointed. Ten of the wands misfired, twelve missed their targets, and the remaining thirty – although hitting the goblin – struck at separate times in a disjointed assault.

In spite of the chaotic bombardment, the goblin, previously dazed from Harry's spell, managed to maintain partial control over its actions. With the desperation it reached slowly towards Sherlock. But before it could reach him, the second wave of bombardment left it utterly immobilized. The goblin's body went rigid before collapsing feebly onto the cold ground. The remaining seventeen spells reinforced the petrification, leaving the goblin trapped in its own body.

Sherlock, witnessing firsthand the consequences of the mass release of spells, couldn't suppress a wry shake of his head, murmuring to himself about the limitations of such an approach. "Single-target spells lack potency," he reflected, "and success requires a minimum of ten simultaneous hits. The results would be more encouraging if all the wands were identical, that would mitigate the chance of misfires and stray spells."

The truth was, the wands were under the control of some unique magic that Sherlock had stumbled upon after healing his soul with fragments of Tom's shattered spirit. Fascinated by this unusual magic, he simply named it 'Control'. Initially, it was nothing more than a fun trick, it freed his hands by enabling him to perform everyday tasks without as much as a move. Even a wand was made redundant, his magic was sufficient to undertake even complex tasks.

Then, in an illuminating moment of clarity, Sherlock questioned whether Control could extend to the use of wands? Could it allow him to cast spells remotely? Thrilled by this prospect, he ran a few tests and, to his satisfaction, his theory was confirmed. Nevertheless, the convenient use of magic from a distance had its drawbacks – it dramatically reduced the potency of the spells. A Stunning Spell could lead to no more than daze, a Petrification Spell was usually entirely ineffective, and even the Disarming Charm scarcely affected an opponent's grip on their wand.

Despite these setbacks, an unexpected resolution arose. Since a single wand's magic was inadequate, why not use multiple wands? Control magic offered him the exceptional freedom to manipulate anything at will, surpassing the capabilities of merely using his own hands. He deduced, if the spell's concentration wasn't sufficient, employ quantity to make up for the lack in quality! Is your aim bad? Just use two hundred wands to rain down spells on your enemy, how could anyone evade such an onslaught?

The intricate details of implementing this new strategy would have to be hashed out at a later date. For now, Sherlock needed to address the matter at hand. With a flick of his wrist, he directed a few wands to sever the cords binding him. The constraints shattered instantly, allowing Sherlock the freedom to approach the defeated goblin.

"You've made a grave error," he addressed the goblin sternly, "You – a goblin – dared to steal a wizard's wand. The penalty for such a crime may very well be a Dementor's Kiss."

With the faintest effort on his part, Sherlock conjured a Levitation Charm, lifting the lifeless bodies of Jonathan, the goblin and Fleur with ease.

The Full Body-Bind curse is an anomaly among common curses as it is without a counter-spell. Even Sherlock had to wait for Fleur to regain consciousness naturally. Meanwhile, the goblin, whilst petrified, was still attune to Sherlock's ominous words. Fearful, yet defiant, it glared ferociously at him. (E/N.: Not true, it can be undone using the General Counter-Spell)

Unperturbed, Sherlock gathered the sea of errant wands with a wave of his hands and returned them to their respective boxes. With the captives floating serenely beside him, he ventured towards the forest's edge. By now, many young wizards had unearthed fragments of the legendary Philosopher's Stone and naturally, disputes erupted between them.

Sherlock, knowing full well that the ruse couldn't last, imparted the truth of the matter onto some level-headed wizards. They, in turn, alerted the local French wizards who swiftly summoned the Magical Law Enforcement and the Aurors. Soon, the illusion was shattered, and the reality sunk into every young wizard present – they had been deceived.

Sherlock recognized a handful of wizards who had been party to squabbles within the forest. The realization of having fought tooth and nail over mere counterfeit treasures turned their faces scarlet with embarrassment – their reputations were at stake. Anxious of the scandal getting out in the public, they converged in the backyard of Flamel's house, staring in shock at the bound goblin and Jonathan.

The Aurors were exceptionally swift to act, especially given the mysterious whereabouts of the real Nicolas Flamel. In less than ten minutes, they applied Veritaserum to the recently awakened goblin. The feared liquid acted quickly and the goblin confessed, albeit unwillingly, that it had never seen Nicholas Flamel. The goblin went on to reveal that quite some time before the commotion, it and Jonathan had intercepted a message that hung out on the doorplate indicating that the real Flamel had gone away – not to return until the 28th of July.

Having realized the potential of the situation, the pair hatched a plot. Jonathan had a deep-rooted obsession for famous wands, an insatiable hunger that blurred the line between love and covetous yearning. His choice of victims was based on the fact that the invitees were all extraordinary wizards, and in keeping with local customs, their wand cores often contained unique and powerful substances inherited from their forbearers.

By simply manipulating the dates on the message and impersonating Nicolas Flamel, Jonathan managed to deceive the wizards, parting them with their precious wands. Conversely, the goblin was rather enamored with wealth and saw in this deceit the chance for immense profit.

Jonathan had planned to target Fleur for her unique wand owing to her Veela ancestry and so a trap had been laid in Aspe's magical town specifically for her. Had it not been for Sherlock's and Harry Potter's accidental intervention, Fleur could have easily wound up in Jonathan's clutches. Unsatisfied by this setback, Jonathan pursued Fleur in Paris, even pretending to be her schoolmate to trick her. Unfortunately for him, Sherlock saw right through his ploy.

The French Ministry of Magic assigned great significance to this case, going as far as dispatching the deputy director from the Magical Law Enforcement to handle the investigation. On seeing Sherlock, he shook his hand in gratitude, continuously thanking him for unraveling the deceit. "We are eternally grateful, Mister Forester," the director began, praising him earnestly, "Without your intervention, those rogues might have fled to America before we even had a chance to apprehend them. We have managed to contact the real Mister Flamel, and he's on his way back to thank you personally."

Both Sherlock and Harry were treated as honored guests at the French Ministry of Magic, their testimonies were taken into serious consideration, and they were made to feel comfortable in a luxurious reception room.

Sherlock finally had a break to ask about Harry's situation, and Harry also told him about the goblin turned into Fleur intending to attack him. "Jonathan clearly had set his sights on your wand, the wand of the famous Harry Potter would have been his crown jewel. If he had gotten hold of it, he would likely have slept with your wand held tightly in his arms," Sherlock joked while drinking the tea that the Ministry had prepared for them.

Harry was a bit jittery after the excitement passed. "Thank goodness you warned me, Professor, or I might really have had the wand wrested from me."

"You're much more alert than before, and you responded promptly. I also didn't expect the culprit to not disguise himself as me but instead as Fleur."

While they were chatting, the door to the reception room was suddenly pushed open from the outside. A familiar-looking elderly man with silver hair and a face full of wrinkles, sporting a gentle smile, entered.

Sherlock and Harry rose out of respect for the esteemed guest, who was even older than Dumbledore.

"Mister Flamel, it's an honor."

Flamel waved his hand dismissively, "There is no need for formalities here," he reassured them, taking a seat next to them.

"Dumbledore is an old friend," he continued, "and he has spoken quite highly of you, not to mention the huge favor you've done me."

"I must apologize for the unpleasant circumstances," he confessed, "My wife was suddenly stricken ill, and I was obliged to accompany her to a hospital in Germany. I am truly sorry for the confusion this caused, and cannot express enough how thankful I am," he concluded, graciously thanking Sherlock.

Sherlock dismissed the gratitude humbly, "You're too kind, Mister Flamel," he replied, "We just happened to stumble upon the truth. But, even without us, it was the criminals who are responsible for this, not you."

Flamel chuckled at this, content with how events had turned out. Being over six hundred years old, he had a better understanding of how the public could react to such a fraud, even if he was a victim too and the scheme had nothing to do with him personally.