Hogwarts, in the Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore and the four Heads of House sat or stood, listening as Harry and the other three young wizards described their discoveries.
A small plate sat before each of the four youngsters, holding an exquisite vanilla and blueberry pudding that smelled wonderfully sweet.
Dumbledore was not wearing his usual half-moon spectacles today, leaving the depths of his eyes exposed.
He was also holding a small plate of vanilla and blueberry pudding, however, which made that depth rather less noticeable.
Even so, Harry was quite certain that this was Occlumency of extraordinary sophistication!
Under the gazes of Dumbledore and the four Heads of House, Harry and the other three supplemented one another's accounts. Once they had finished recounting all their discoveries, Dumbledore put down his plate and clapped delightedly.
"Brilliant, truly brilliant. I've always been very fond of Muggle detective novels. That remarkable detective, what was his name again? The one who lives on Baker Street in London. His name is..."
"Sherlock Holmes?" Harry supplied instinctively.
"Yes, yes, Holmes." Dumbledore nodded repeatedly in delight.
Unlike Snape's utterly still gaze, which betrayed no emotion whatsoever, Dumbledore's eyes could remain unfathomably deep while still clearly expressing all manner of emotions.
Such as his obvious delight at that moment:
"I often marvel at how wonderful the Muggle imagination is. Their powers of deduction are remarkable too. We wizards seem to fall just a little short in that regard. Magic provides so many conveniences that we've become rather insensitive in certain respects."
Harry nodded. The wizarding world had novelists too, but they mostly wrote adventure novels.
One of the more classic examples was, well, Lockhart, who was currently serving as the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts.
Detective novels, however, were rarely seen in the wizarding world, if