Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 475 The Most Beautiful Woman

“Minister, you certainly haven’t spoken a single word of English,”

Sherlock calmly looked at the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, Obaronsk, and slowly spoke in a low voice:
"But in most cases, human reactions are often more honest than words."

When Minister Fudge introduces you to Harry Potter—the boy who narrowly escaped death at the hands of the Voidman—your eyes immediately lock onto Harry's scar.

Sherlock paused for a moment, glancing at the shocked crowd in the private room.

Upon hearing Sherlock's words, everyone immediately understood.

It turns out to be like the north!

If Obalonsk truly couldn't understand Connery Fudge, he definitely wouldn't have reacted this way.

Hermione stared intently at Sherlock, her face showing the familiar thirst for knowledge mixed with a blush of admiration.

Sherlock's analysis continues:

"This is not just curiosity, but also a reaction of approval."

Furthermore, your finger pointing at the scar is passionate, yet there is no sign of seeking help or confusion.

This shows that you fully understand Fudge's description.

A person who truly doesn't understand English would never show such momentary excitement at that moment.

Furthermore, prior to this, when Minister Fouché was gesturing laboriously, your expression remained one of playful calm.

His gaze did not wander, and his gestures were not stiff.

You observe his efforts like a bystander, while the real language barrier brings continuous anxiety and confusion.

These details combined are enough for me to deduce that you were just enjoying this little prank.

Sherlock's analysis came to an end, and Obalonsk couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh.

The London accent, disguised by the Bulgarian accent, seemed particularly striking:
"Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!"

He patted Sherlock hard on the shoulder, completely unconcerned about Fudge's annoyed expression.

"Yes, I was just teasing him."

Just imagine, the Minister of Magic of a great nation waving his arms around like a pantomime actor all day long—that alone is worth the price of admission!
Holmes... no, Sherlock Holmes, you should work for the International Magical Cooperation Division.

"Barty Crouch needs a guy like you."

Fudge's face turned even redder. He turned around angrily, muttering things like how rude it was.

Sherlock sighed.

how to say?

In the Muggle world, when the leaders of two countries are having formal exchanges, they don't need to understand each other's language at all.

Or rather, it has nothing to do with whether they understand each other's language or not.

A critic named Lyndon Wan once said:
Even if the two leaders can understand each other's languages, they still need to express their meaning in their own languages and then have it conveyed through a translator.

But today... it's one thing for the British Ministry of Magic not to have translators, but even the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic doesn't have translators.

It's safe to say that not only the British magical community, but the entire magical world is teeming with talent!

Just then, a few more people entered the private room, saving Cornelius Fudge from his embarrassment.

"Ah, it's Lucius!"

His tone was full of joy, as if he had met an old friend he hadn't seen for many years.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and followed Fudge's gaze, and sure enough, it was the Malfoy family.

There were always three empty seats in the second row behind Mr. Weasley, and now it seems that those were reserved for them.

Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy, father and son Sherlock, have both met.

They looked no different from when we last met.

However, he was meeting another member of the Malfoy family, Lucius's wife and Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, for the first time.

This is a woman with fair skin.

Her light blonde hair made her look more like Lucius's sister than his wife.

However, she still inherited the advantages of the Black family in terms of appearance; she was tall and very beautiful.

The problem was that she had a sullen expression on her face at that moment, as if she had smelled something unpleasant.

"Ah, Lord Fudge, how are you!"

As Lucius walked past Cornelius Fudge, he extended his hand to him and then introduced him to his family:

"I think you haven't met my wife Narcissa yet, and our son Draco."

"Hello!"

Fudge smiled and bowed to Mrs. Malfoy:

"Please allow me to introduce you to Mr. Obransk—oh, it should be Mr. Obransk—I've always gotten his name wrong."

He's the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria, and he was just pretending not to understand English, laughing at me.

Fudge finally understood.

As long as I'm not embarrassed, it's others who are embarrassed.

So he simply told everyone about it.

As expected, Bulgarian Minister of Magic Obaronsko was taken aback upon hearing Fudge's words, and immediately became embarrassed:

"Hey, Minister, I was just joking, don't take it so seriously!"

"I don't really mind it, I was just saying it casually."

Seeing Obalonsk's embarrassed expression, Fudge felt incredibly pleased.

To ease the awkwardness, Obalonsk quickly took Narcissa Malfoy's hand and gave it a polite kiss.
“Beautiful lady, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope you can support Bulgaria.”

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Excellency Minister."

From a purely etiquette standpoint, Narcissa Malfoy's performance was impeccable.

This made Lucius Malfoy unconsciously puff out his chest, feeling proud to have such a dignified wife.

Sherlock took in the whole scene and immediately formed a preliminary judgment about the relationship between the family members.

"Alright, let me see who else is next."

At this moment, Fudge spoke again:
“Lucius, I think you should know Mr. Sirius Black, right? He's the one who cooperated with us and caught that traitor who had been providing information to the Mysterio!”

Upon hearing this, Lucius's expression immediately became somewhat unnatural.

Narcissa Malfoy seemed to sense her husband's feelings, gently patted his arm, then took a half step forward and looked at Sirius.

"Long time no see, Sirius."

"Long time no see, my dear sister."

Sirius's tone was calm, revealing no emotional fluctuation whatsoever.

Speaking of which, Narcissa Malfoy, or rather Narcissa Black, was both Sirius Black's cousin and his sister.

Compared to her sister Bellatrix, with whom she had a similar relationship, Narcissa married much earlier.

Furthermore, since she wasn't a Death Eater like Bellatrix, Sirius treated her merely as a relative he'd hardly ever met.

After introducing Sirius Black, Fudge pointed to Mr. Weasley and said to Lucius:
"This is Arthur Weasley. I think you should know him. His children also attend Hogwarts!"

The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere in the private room became subtly tense.

I'm even more nervous than when I was introducing Sirius.

Aside from Sherlock, those who knew the inside story looked at Fudge with a hint of helplessness, thinking to themselves that this guy really knew how to bring up the most sensitive topics. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy exchanged glances, saying nothing.

Sherlock hadn't seen it with his own eyes, but Harry clearly remembered the last time the two met:
That happened at Flourish and Blotts, where the two of them got into a fight.

It was during that encounter that Mr. Malfoy took the opportunity to stuff Voldemort's diary into Gilderoy Lockhart's pile of books.

Later, Lockhart brought that diary to Hogwarts, which, needless to say, caused a huge uproar at the school.

Of course, everyone now knows that thing is a Horcrux.

Lucius was not as polite to Mr. Weasley as Sirius. His cold gray eyes swept past Mr. Weasley, scanning the row of seats back and forth.

"Oh my God, Arthur."

He said softly, "What exactly did you sell to get this seat in the top-floor VIP box?"
I'm sure your belongings aren't worth that much money, right?

Even without that incident, the Malfoys and Weasleys have always been at odds.

After all, in the eyes of most pure-blood families, the Weasley family's behavior can be described as a "disgrace to pure-bloods".

Unfortunately, Fudge didn't understand what Lucius was saying and continued enthusiastically:

“Arthur, Lucius recently donated a large sum of money to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Injuries and Sicknesses—he is a distinguished guest I invited.”

"Oh—that's wonderful."

Mr. Weasley forced a smile as he spoke.

At that moment, Mr. Malfoy's gaze fell on Sherlock and Hermione, and his brows immediately furrowed.

Hermione blushed slightly and leaned closer to Sherlock, meeting his gaze without flinching.

The Malfoy family has always been proud of being pure-blood wizards, and Narcissa of the Black family is no exception.

After marrying Lucius, this idea grew even stronger and achieved even greater success.

Half-blood wizards are one thing, but Muggle wizards like Sherlock and Hermione are considered inferior in their eyes.

However, with the Minister of Magic present, Mr. Malfoy ultimately refrained from saying anything out of line.

He merely nodded sarcastically to Mr. Weasley and continued on his way to his seat.

Narcissa nodded to Sirius and sat down as well.

Draco sat properly between his parents.

"That's strange, why didn't this annoying guy provoke us?"

Ron couldn't help but mutter something.

"He hasn't provoked anyone in a long time."

Sherlock said meaningfully.

He had already discerned many things from his observation of the Malfoy family of three.

Just then, Ludo Bagman burst into the box like a gust of wind.

"Is everyone ready?"

His round face shone like a giant spherical cheese, and he looked at Fudge, asking eagerly:
"Minister—can we begin?"

"Let's begin, Ludo."

Fudge appeared very amiable when facing Ludo.

Upon hearing Fudge's words, Ludo immediately drew his wand and cast an amplification spell on himself, then began to perform his duties as the commentator for this match:

"ladies and gentlemen!
Welcome!
Welcome to the 422nd Quidditch World Cup!

After casting the spell, Mr. Bagman's voice boomed like thunder throughout the packed stadium.

The sound echoed overhead, resounding loudly to every corner of the stands.

As soon as he finished speaking, the audience erupted in cheers and applause.

Thousands of flags were waved at the same time, accompanied by a jumble of national anthems, creating a truly spectacular scene.

On the blackboard directly opposite Sherlock, the last line of the advertisement was also erased.

The current score is: Bulgaria: Ireland - 0:0

Clearly, the sponsors' advertising time is over, and now it's time for the intense and exciting match.

However, according to Hermione's interpretation of the game instructions, there will be a performance by the mascots of both teams before the game officially begins.

"I am Ludo Bagman, the commentator for this match—alright, enough chit-chat, please allow me to introduce... the mascot of the Bulgarian national team!"

On the right side of the stands was a neat bright red square, which at this moment erupted in loud cheers.

"I wonder what they brought."

Mr. Weasley said with great interest, leaning out of his seat like a little child.

The next moment, he abruptly removed his glasses and hurriedly wiped them on his robe, letting out an incredulous exclamation:
"My God, it's a Veela!"

What is allure?

Before the words were even finished, a hundred Veela had already slid onto the arena.

Harry's question was answered at that moment.

Veela are women.

To be precise, she was the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen in his life.

Such a description is not an exaggeration at all; they are so beautiful that they seem unreal.

This puzzled Harry for a moment, as he couldn't guess what they were.

Why do their skin glow with a soft, luminous light, like the moon?

Why does their hair flutter behind their heads even when there's no wind?

Why are they so...beautiful?

At that moment, Harry even felt a little ashamed.

At this moment, he even felt that Qiu Zhang was not as beautiful as these Vespas.

Just then, the music started playing, and Harry stopped thinking about whether they were real or not—in fact, he couldn't think about anything at all.

As the Veela began to dance, Harry's mind went blank, filled only with an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

Nothing in the world matters anymore.

As long as he can keep watching Vegeta, that's fine.

If they stop dancing, something terrible will happen.

As the Veela's dance grew faster and faster, some crazy, unformed thoughts began to swirl in Harry's dizzy mind.

Continue... Don't stop...

Faster...faster...

We're here...we're almost here...

At that moment, Harry suddenly wanted to do something truly remarkable—to do it right now.

That means jumping from the VIP box into the stadium.

He didn't even think about why he was doing this; he was just secretly wondering if it was exciting enough.

"My dear friend, what are you doing?"