Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 477 Hermione Has Grown Up

The stadium for the Quidditch World Cup final was filled with the enormous cheers of 100,000 wizards.

The moonlight spilled onto the lawn, giving it a dazzling green glow.

The panoramic telescope that Sirius had previously gifted finally proved its true value at this moment.

It was no longer a toy Ron used to watch the old wizard pick his nose repeatedly, but a powerful tool for analyzing tactics.

When the slow-motion analysis function is turned on, the situation on the field becomes clear instantly.

Harry stared at the telescope, and suddenly saw purple explanatory text flash by:

[Eagle Head Offensive Formation]

"Three players advance in a synchronized arrowhead formation, using a triangular positioning to compress the defensive space, forcing opposing players to retreat to the goalpost area. Offensive threat level: ★★★★☆"

Before he could finish reading the tactical analysis, Ireland's three chasers had already moved as described in the text.

The green-clad figure traced a precise arc in the air, like three green arrows released from a bow, swooping towards the Bulgarian goal.

The high speed of the fire arrows caused the airflow from their tails to even flutter the colorful flags on the sidelines.

Not long after, another line of text appeared on the screen:

[Boskov's tactics]

"The chaser pretends to take off with the Quaffle, creating the illusion of a one-on-one score."

After the opposing player chasing the ball is lured away, the ball is passed to the receiving player below.

The core of this tactic lies in controlling the time difference, and it was first created by Russian ball chaser Petrova Poskov in 1976.

Harry was mesmerized, his eyes glued to the Irish chaser.

He held the bright red Quake ball and suddenly thrust his broom high into the air.

The two Bulgarian chasers fell for the trick and immediately sped up to catch up.

But just as he slightly raised his wrist to prepare to pass the ball, the Bulgarian batter on the other side seemed to sense something.

He suddenly abandoned his original plan, gripped the bat tightly with both hands, his arm muscles tensed, and hit the stray ball at him with a "bang"!

However, the Irish player chasing the ball was no pushover either.

Since this tactic was used, we were naturally prepared to be targeted.

So when the dodgeball flew towards him, he nimbly dodged to the side, and threw the Quaffle downwards in his hand, the movements so fluid as if he had practiced it a thousand times.

In this way, they ultimately succeeded in executing the Boskov tactic.

His teammate below caught the ball steadily, and it made a beautiful arc in the air. The Quaffle stayed in his hand for less than three seconds before being accurately passed back to another chaser in the eagle-head formation.

The player who caught the ball did not hesitate and rushed towards the Bulgarian goal like an arrow.

The Bulgarian goalkeeper, with a gold headband, stood with his legs shoulder-width apart and his hands in a defensive stance, ready for action.

But the Irish chaser wasn't in a hurry; he calmly made a shot to the left.

The goalkeeper reacted extremely quickly, lunging to the left with his arms outstretched in preparation for the interception.

However, at the moment of diving, he was surprised to find that the Quaffle was still with the opponent's Chaser.

No, I was fooled!

Unfortunately it's too late.

In that instant, Ireland's chaser gave a gentle push with his wrist, and the Quaffle flew "whoosh" and accurately into the right goal!

"Troy scores!"

Ludo Bagman's commentary finally paid off; his voice was filled with triumphant excitement, even a hint of cracking.
"10-0, Ireland are in the lead!"
This is the first goal of the match!

Cheers erupted instantly in the stadium as Irish fans waved green scarves and flags, creating a green wave that surged through the stands.

Even Bulgarian supporters couldn't help but applaud this brilliant goal.

Good plays transcend teamwork; such tactical cooperation deserves everyone's applause.

"what?"

Upon hearing the narrator's voice, Harry immediately began frantically searching around through the panoramic binoculars, while shouting loudly:

"What? 10-0? Leverski clearly got the Quaffle!"

“Dear Harry, that was fifteen seconds ago.”

Sherlock knew from Harry's words that he was completely engrossed in the slow-motion analysis function of the telescope.

He smiled and shook his head, then patted Harry on the shoulder:

"Brother, I suggest you don't use the slow motion function for now."

"what?"

"That's right, Harry!"

Hearing Sherlock's words, Hermione loudly echoed him:
"Look at the field! If you don't watch at normal speed, you'll miss the exciting moments."

Upon hearing Sherlock and Hermione's words, Harry quickly looked up from the panoramic telescope.

I happened to see Irish Chaser Troy flying around the field, arms outstretched in celebration, the moonlight shining brightly on his green jersey.

The referee, positioned in the center of the field, did not blow his whistle to stop the celebration—after all, it was the first goal of the match, and both the spectators and the referee were exceptionally tolerant, with no one raising any objection to the celebration.

The Irish team's mascot also seized the opportunity and began to perform.

The Irish lemurs that had been obediently staying on the sidelines suddenly took to the air, and thousands of golden specks of light shimmered in the moonlight, quickly coalescing into a giant clover.

The veins on the leaves are clearly visible, and you can even see the tiny serrations on the edges of the leaves.

The Bulgarian team members, however, remained unmoved and indifferent.

However, the Veela mascots on the other side of the field were looking at the Irish lemurs with gloomy expressions.

Even with anger in their eyes, their exquisite faces remained so beautiful that it was impossible to look away.

The people in the private room were also very excited.

The game truly began with that ball.

Sirius Black and Mr. Weasley slapped their thighs and cheered.

The Weasley children's voices rose and fell:
"Well done!"

"Good job!"

"Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!"

Almost everyone was cheering loudly for this beautiful goal.

Hermione excitedly grabbed Sherlock's arm with one hand and waved her other hand vigorously, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

Only Harry was angry; he was angry at himself.

He missed the very first ball of the game!
How could I make such a basic mistake?
"Don't worry, Harry."

Seeing this, Ginny quietly moved closer to him and said softly:
"The telescope will record the match, and you can still watch it again using the replay and analysis functions after the match ends."

Harry felt a little relieved after hearing Ginny's comforting words.

He then listened to advice and adjusted the speed knob back to normal, continuing to watch the game.

Among the group of people sitting in the box, Harry, Charlie, and Sherlock were naturally the most talented in Quidditch.

Needless to say, Harry and Charlie are both Gryphon's top players, and both have already won the Quidditch Cup.

Although Sherlock did not join the Gryphon team, his abilities and vision are beyond question—even now, former captain Wood has not given up on the idea of ​​having him join the Gryphon team.

So it didn't take long for the three to figure it out. The Bulgarian player's chasing movements were precise and clean, and the power and angle of his passes were top-notch. Whether it was a high pass or a low-post combination, there were no obvious flaws.

It's clear that their run to the World Cup final was no fluke.

But everything is afraid of comparison.

Although Bulgaria is very strong, there is always someone stronger, and there is always someone better.

If Bulgaria's chasers are world-class, then Ireland's are top-tier.

If I had to describe it, it would be like reaching the top of a hundred-foot pole, taking another step forward.

The Irish chasers moved with fluid and skillful movements, as if the brooms were an extension of their bodies.

What's even more remarkable is that their teamwork is seamless.

They can predict each other's passing routes simply by their positioning and subtle movements, as if they can read each other's minds.

With their combined efforts, Ireland's entire attacking system was simply...

It's flawless!
The rose-shaped badge Harry wore on his chest kept screaming their names:
"Troy—Marit—Moran!"

Troy, Mallet, Moran.

Not long after the match began, Harry had already memorized their names—even though today was the first time he had met them.

Just ten minutes later, Ireland scored two more goals with excellent teamwork, making the score 30-0.

This prompted an overwhelming roar of cheers and applause from the Irish supporters, who were dressed in green.

The Irish goblins also put on their performance with great enthusiasm.

Under these circumstances, the trailing Bulgarian team naturally refused to back down.

In addition to the three chasers, the two batters also gave it their all.

Finally, after using every ounce of their strength, they managed to hit the ball to the Irish chaser.

Twice in a row, Ireland's chasers were forced to spread out, abandoning their best offensive moves, which resembled an eagle-head attacking formation.

Finally, a Bulgarian player seized an opportunity and broke through Ireland's defense.

He nimbly dodged the interception of two defenders, then struggled past the goalkeeper, and smashed the Quake into the goal frame!

After scoring, he roared to the sky.

The Bulgarian team's supporters, who had been holding back for so long, finally got their chance and immediately cheered wildly.

As Bulgaria's mascots, the Vevas naturally wouldn't be outdone and immediately began celebrating.

"Oh no! Quick, plug your ears with your fingers!"

Mr. Weasley saw Veela start dancing and quickly called out to her.

Sirius, being an elder himself, simply smiled and remained silent.

He seemed to enjoy seeing the young wizards in the box lose their composure because of the Veela—including his godson Harry.

However, Harry obediently followed Mr. Weasley's advice.

He not only plugged his ears with his fingers, but also closed his eyes.

Clearly, although Sherlock had previously said that he should be mentally prepared and take this opportunity to strengthen his resistance.

But Harry also knew very well that he wasn't strong enough to resist the temptations of beautiful women.

Since he lacked confidence, he decided to simply ignore the game to avoid focusing on it.

Sirius sighed quietly, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes—it seemed there was no hope of watching the show.

Harry felt someone pat him on the shoulder, and then he lowered his hands that were covering his ears.

Ginny's soft voice came from beside him: "That's enough, Harry."

Harry opened his eyes and found that the Veela had stopped dancing and returned to their places.

He couldn't help but let out a long sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Ginny."

After thanking Ginny, Harry refocused on the game.

Ludo Bagman, who was in charge of commentating on this match, sounded like he was reciting a menu, reading out the names of the players on both sides of the field one after another.

"Dmitrov! Levsky! Dimitrov! Ivanova!"

Strangely enough, Harry and Ron have always felt that they don't have very good memories.

But for some reason, the two not only memorized these tongue-twisting names, but could even match the names with the players on the field.

Until Bagman suddenly shouted in a loud voice:
"Oh my God!"

At that moment, the 100,000 wizards in the entire arena fell silent, and even the sound of the wind became clear.

All eyes were on the two Seekers.

Krum from Bulgaria and Lynch from Ireland.

They descended rapidly among a group of chasers, their brooms moving so fast they almost left afterimages, as if they were about to plunge headlong into the hard grass.

Clearly, the two had discovered the trail of the Golden Snitch.

Harry followed their descent through the panoramic telescope, squinting as he searched for the Golden Snitch amidst the chaos of the players.

"Oh no, they're going to fall to the ground!"

Hermione couldn't help but scream.

Her body trembled slightly with nervousness, and she unconsciously clung tightly to Sherlock's arm.

“Dear Hermione, I understand your nervousness, but what you’re doing is still inappropriate.”

Sherlock suddenly said.

Hermione was startled at first, then suddenly let go as if she had been burned, her cheeks instantly turning bright red, even her ears turning pink.

She then realized that it was fine when she only used one arm to hug Sherlock, but it was inappropriate to use both arms to hug him.

After all, I am no longer the little girl I was three years ago.

She will turn fifteen next month, and her secondary sexual characteristics are already beginning to take shape, with a slight curve that is faintly visible under her thin dress.

Just now, when you tighten your arms, they naturally press against Sherlock's arms.

Now, in the height of summer, the fabric offers very little protection.

She hadn't noticed it before, but now, recalling it, Hermione found the subtle touch exceptionally clear.

Even the faint muscle lines on Sherlock's arms can be vaguely felt through the fabric.

Needless to say, Sherlock only gave the warning after he clearly sensed this subtle contact.

It perfectly matches his straightforward style.

Fortunately, everyone's attention was on the Quidditch match, and no one noticed them.

Even so, Hermione felt her cheeks were burning hot enough to fry an egg. She quickly lowered her head and stared at the tips of her shoes, but her vision was somewhat unsteady.

"I...I didn't mean to..."

Her voice was barely audible, and she didn't even dare to look Sherlock in the eye, only staring at the ground, repeatedly trying to justify herself in her mind:

Honestly, this was really not intentional!

(End of this chapter)