Filch led Sherlock to an office on the third floor and handed him the keys.
"This office was previously occupied by Professor Quirrell, the former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, but I cleared out all his belongings during the summer. The house-elves in the castle have thoroughly cleaned it, so you can move in without worry."
Sherlock took the keys from his hand, and Filch's old face broke into a flattering smile like a blooming chrysanthemum.
"You can arrange your room as you like, Professor Cavendish. I'll go back and prepare some things, and when I'm patrolling the castle later, I'll come to the third floor to find you."
With that, he turned and left.
Watching his figure disappear around the corner of the staircase, Sherlock inserted the key into the door and entered his future residence at Hogwarts.
The office was very spacious, with a bookshelf occupying half of the wall, a coat rack behind the door, and a large desk facing the door.
As Filch had said, it was spotless, with not even a speck of dust on the bookshelf or desk.
Sherlock's trunk was neatly placed on one side of the desk.
He took out the books and notes from inside and arranged them on the bookshelf, then carried the spare robes from the trunk to the bedroom behind the office.
The bed had already been made by the house-elves, and toiletries and other necessities were well prepared, making it completely move-in ready.
The students living at Hogwarts were truly fortunate. Sherlock suspected that the house-elves might even wash their clothes for them.
These students lived a life of luxury in the castle, where everything was provided for them, even more carefree than at home.
After tidying up his office and bedroom, he sat down at the desk and picked up the course schedule that Professor McGonagall had given him after the welcoming feast.
To be honest, being a professor at Hogwarts was not an easy job.
Especially for core subjects like Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, History of Magic, Astronomy, and Defence Against the Dark Arts.
There were seven year groups of students in the castle, and each year group had at least one double period (approximately one and a half hours, except for Astronomy) of each core subject per week, which meant that these seven professors were basically busy from Monday to Friday.
Doesn't it sound alright, not too difficult?
But don't forget that Hogwarts was divided into four houses.
Students from the same year group and different houses did not attend classes together. In general, students from two houses would attend a class together, which meant that the professor had to teach the same year group's class twice, doubling the workload!
If you were to compare it to a normal Muggle school,
it would be like a seven-year elementary school where each year group has two classes, but the entire school only has one math teacher, who is responsible for the math classes and homework of all students in all fourteen classes!
Fourteen classes a week, each class being more than an hour long, and after class, they have to grade and check the homework of all the students in the school.
The students at Hogwarts may not necessarily have a hard academic life, but the professors of these seven core subjects are truly more tired than donkeys on a production team.
And from today onwards, Sherlock was also joining the Hogwarts production team, becoming a donkey that dared not rest.
He looked at the schedule for tomorrow. The first class in the morning was with the first-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, and the afternoon class was also with Gryffindors, but this time it was the second-year students, namely Harry and his friends.
The arrangement on the schedule was exactly what he wanted. He would test the waters with the two lower year group classes first to see the students' reactions before making changes to the higher year group courses.
After preparing the content needed for tomorrow's classes,
there was a sudden knock on the office door, and Filch's flattering voice sounded outside.
"Professor Cavendish, we can set off now."
Sherlock looked at the time. It was just past eight o'clock, and according to the original owner's diary, curfew started at nine o'clock.
He straightened his robes, his expression returning to indifference, and opened the door.
"Is curfew patrol starting before nine o'clock?"
Filch explained to him,
"Patrolling the castle doesn't necessarily mean checking for curfew violations. Precisely because it's not curfew time yet, there might be students using spells in the corridors, which is not allowed according to school rules. Your previous students were very well behaved, but the students who have enrolled in recent years have become increasingly reckless, especially the Gryffindor students."
As he spoke, he seemed to recall some bad memories, and his face turned gloomy.
"If you ask me, Professor Dumbledore is too lenient. We should restore the old castle management system and use handcuffs and whips on those disobedient students! That way, they wouldn't dare to make mistakes again!"
Good heavens, I didn't expect you to be an old sadist.
Sherlock silently complained in his mind, but on the surface, he did not respond to his words. Instead, he turned back to close the office door and began his nightly patrol of Hogwarts with him.
"Where shall we go first?" Sherlock asked.
Filch said without hesitation, "Let's go to the Gryffindor common room area first. On the first night of each semester, I always catch students using magic there, especially after those two little rascals enrolled!"
He said the last sentence through gritted teeth, and Sherlock could guess even without thinking.
Besides the Weasley twins, there was no other Gryffindor student that Filch hated so much.
Sherlock didn't really care where Filch wanted to patrol.
He had asked to come out with him this time only to take the opportunity to familiarize himself with the entire Hogwarts Castle.
He didn't need to know every place in detail, just to have a rough idea of where the common rooms of the four houses were, where the offices of the various teachers were, and which classrooms were commonly used.
This way, he wouldn't be completely clueless in the castle tomorrow, like a newly enrolled student who didn't even know which way the Hogwarts gate faced.
They were walking on the staircase leading to the tower where the Gryffindor common room was located when they heard two people talking from around the corner as they reached the fifth floor.
"It's a good thing Professor Dumbledore didn't expel us."
"But even so, it's embarrassing enough. I don't even dare to imagine what people will think of us when we return to the Gryffindor common room looking like this."
"Hey! What are you afraid of? These bandages on our bodies are medals that only heroes have!"
"Yes, we did look like heroes in the car during the day, with everyone watching us, but now people will only call us bears. And Professor Cavendish, I even waved to him in the car... I don't know if he has any classes tomorrow. I think we should ask Madam Pomfrey for a sick note; otherwise, I really don't have the face to attend his class looking like this."
Harry, with bandages on his head, and Ron, with a cast on his arm, walked past the corner of the staircase while chatting.
Then they saw Professor Cavendish, whom they had just mentioned, standing there with Filch, looking at them with strange expressions.