Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 480 Finding Harry's Lost Things

Compared to the Irish Seeker Lin Qi who had just fallen awkwardly on the field and was surrounded by a group of Veelas, this was quite different.

Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum moved with the agility of a swift eagle, soaring into the air in an instant.

The bright red robe was speckled with droplets of still-drying nosebleed, which looked particularly glaring in the moonlight.

He raised his fist high, and through his tightly clenched fingers, a dazzling golden light shone faintly.

At that moment, the light was like the first ray of dawn breaking through the clouds, proclaiming that he had successfully captured the golden thief.

The score on the scoreboard began to change rapidly.

The score between Bulgaria and Ireland became 160-170.

Apart from a few sharp-eyed experts like Sherlock, Harry, and Charlie, the vast majority of the audience was still immersed in the afterglow of the intense competition.

They were still reeling from the dazzling battle and had no idea what decisive thing had happened on the field in that brief moment.

But like a giant jet aircraft poised for takeoff, it begins to slowly accelerate, initially emitting only a low rumble, which then grows louder and louder.

The Celtics supporters initially just whispered among themselves.

As the discussions gradually gathered, they finally erupted like a surging tide, bursting into a deafening, joyful shout.

Commentator Bagman, who already had a soft spot for the Celtics, couldn't help but shout out excitedly.

However, as a commentator, his professionalism immediately came into play.

Even though he was filled with excitement, he didn't overly express his stance in his words, but simply stated objectively:

"Bulgaria's Krum caught the Golden Snitch, ending the game, but Ireland won!"

My God, I doubt anyone present anticipated such an unexpected and shocking outcome before the match!

Why would he go after the Golden Snitch at this time?

Ron was so excited his face turned red. He raised his hands high and jumped up and down, cheering and shouting with a puzzled look on his face.

Ginny looked puzzled as well. She turned to Harry beside her and asked softly:
"Wasn't it a bit unwise of him to end the game when Ireland was leading by 160 points?"

"Because he knew they would never catch up."

Charlie sighed, turned to Sherlock and Harry, and asked in a questioning tone, "Am I right?"

Harry was also cheering loudly, nodding and saying, "The Irish Chaser is fantastic!"

Sherlock nodded slightly and added, "If this drags on any longer, the score gap between the two sides will only widen."

If Lin Qi gets the Golden Snitch first, the Bulgarian team's situation will only get worse.

Hermione leaned forward slightly, her eyes fixed on Krum as he slowly descended to the ground.

At this moment, a large group of doctors in the arena blew their whistles, trying to drive away the gnomes and Veela who were still wrestling, and to clear a path for Krum.

"He looked really disheveled, but... he was really brave."

Hermione muttered to herself.

Seeing Krum's tenacious performance on the field, Hermione's previous prejudice against him because of his appearance has quietly dissipated quite a bit.

She then noticed that Krum's face looked even more somber than in the previous photos.

He was stubborn and even refused to let the doctor clean his wounds or wipe the blood off his face and robe.

His Bulgarian teammates gathered around him, all shaking their heads dejectedly, and the whole team was shrouded in an atmosphere of disappointment.

But not far from them, the Irish players were completely immersed in the joy of victory.

They were so happy they danced with joy, as if the whole world was cheering for their victory.

The Irish team's mascot also jumped around happily, showering them with gold coins like a shower.

The gold coins shimmered with a mesmerizing light in the air, perfectly complementing the players' radiant smiles.

Flags were waving everywhere in the stadium, and the stirring melody of the Irish national anthem resounded from all directions, its exhilarating rhythm seemingly capable of lifting the entire stadium.

Bulgaria's mascots, the Vevas, have returned to their original beautiful appearance, but they all look dejected and gloomy.

"We fought very bravely."

The Bulgarian Minister of Magic, Obaronsko, looked grave. He gave Sherlock a deep look and slowly began to speak.
"Holmes, to borrow your words, we have lost with honor."

"You absolutely deserve this recognition."

Sherlock replied earnestly and with a firm gaze, "Perhaps you were just a little bit unlucky in this match."

"Sometimes, luck is indeed a part of ability."

Obalonsk shrugged slightly, a wry smile on his face. "I think you understand that's often how things are in the arena."

"Now, the Irish team, accompanied by their mascot, circled the field once, and the Quidditch World Cup trophy was delivered to the top tier box!"

Bagman continued to broadcast the progress of the match to the audience in his booming voice.

The next moment, an extremely bright light suddenly shone in the private room without warning.

The light was so intense that it caught everyone off guard, and several young wizards were stung in the eyes by the sudden burst of light.

They instinctively closed their eyes, and it took them a while to adjust.

Amazingly, the light allowed all the spectators in the stands to clearly see what was happening inside the boxes.

Harry squinted and looked toward the entrance.

Two wizard-like figures, panting heavily, carried an enormous golden cup into the private room.

They carefully handed the gold cup to Connelly Fudge.

Seeing that Ireland had won in the end, Fudge's expression, which had been slightly stiff due to the tension of the game, relaxed considerably.

Mr. Bagman, who had just finished his commentary, now took on the role of host:

"Let's give a warm round of applause to welcome the Bulgarian team, who have fought with honor despite their defeat, to the stage!"

The seven Bulgarian team members went up the stairs one by one and entered the private room.

The entire audience, even the Celtics supporters, burst into applause.

Cheers erupted like a tidal wave, a heartfelt tribute to the Bulgarian team's fighting spirit on the field.

The lenses of countless panoramic telescopes gleamed in the sunlight, all focusing on the box where Sherlock and his companions were.

The blinding glare forced Sherlock to turn his head away.

Just as he turned his head, his gaze swept past what was behind him and suddenly froze.

At this moment, the Bulgarian team members walked one by one between the two rows of seats in the VIP box.

They shook hands in turn with their country's minister, Obaronsk, and Fudge, the British Minister for Magic, who was their host country.

Bagman stood to the side, calling out the names of each team member who came forward.

Viktor Krum was at the back of the line, and he looked extremely disheveled.

Because he had previously refused to let the doctor clean his wounds, his blood-stained face and the two dark circles under his eyes were particularly striking, making him look even more exhausted.

Even now, he still clutches the golden snitch tightly in his hand, as if it were his only remaining reliance in this defeated match.

Harry suddenly noticed a detail.

Once Krum landed on the ground, his movements became somewhat uncoordinated.

His legs were noticeably turned outwards, and his shoulders were bent forward sharply, making his walking posture completely different from his agile appearance on the field.

“Sherlock, he…”

Harry couldn't suppress his doubts and turned to Sherlock, trying to find the answer from him.

The latter nodded to him and said softly:

"Just as you would have guessed, my dear friend."

Harry understood immediately and didn't ask any more questions.

However, when Bagman loudly announced the name of Viktor Krumm, the entire stadium was instantly engulfed in cheers, the enthusiastic and deafening cheers resounding through the sky.

The people in the private room clapped enthusiastically, and Ron's hands, which were clapping so hard, were now as red as his red hair.

Regardless of the outcome of the match, Krum's superb skills and tenacious fighting spirit on the field make him a truly outstanding athlete, worthy of everyone's respect.

Next up on stage were the players from the Irish team.

Seeker Aidan Linzi was being supported by two chasers, Moran and Connolly, on either side of him.

He fell to the ground twice in a row, seemingly quite hard. His eyes were unfocused and blank, and his head felt dizzy.

It's hard to say whether he looks more disheveled than Krum.

However, when Troy and Quigley raised the trophy high, a wide smile finally spread across Lynch's previously blank face. The audience erupted in thunderous applause and cheers once again.

This time, not only Ron, but Harry also clapped frantically, until his hands went numb.

After the awards ceremony, players from the Irish and Bulgarian teams left their boxes.

The Celtics rode broomsticks and excitedly circled the field.

Aidanlin sat behind Connolly, his arms tightly wrapped around Connolly's waist, a silly grin still on his face.

I don't know if he damaged his brain or was simply too caught up in the joy of victory to pull himself out.

“He looks like he really hurt himself…” Harry said with a worried look. “Could he be suffering any lasting effects?”

“Even if you have a problem, he won’t.” Sherlock said with a slight upturn of his lips and a soft laugh.

At that moment, Ludobagman took out his wand, pointed it lightly to his throat, and whispered, "Whisper."

Under the magical effect of the spell, his voice, which had become hoarse from long hours of passionate commentary, finally returned to normal.

"This match will definitely be talked about for a long time and become a significant chapter in Quidditch history."

At this moment, everyone could hear that his voice was completely hoarse, and there was a hint of fatigue in it:
"It was such an unexpected turn of events, it's just a pity the game didn't last any longer..."

"Oh, right, right, how much should I give you?"

Upon hearing this, Fred and George immediately flipped over the back of their chairs like two nimble monkeys and quickly stood in front of Ludobagman.

Their faces beamed with happy smiles, and they stretched out their palms, looking as if they couldn't wait to get the money.

"I'm really glad you withdrew most of the bets."

Mr. Bagman rummaged through his pockets for a long time before finally finding enough Galleons to pay the two brothers.

"The odds I'm offering you are far too high... If we calculate based on all the previous bets, all the money I have on me wouldn't be enough to pay you back."

Upon hearing this, the Weasley twins couldn't help but secretly breathe a sigh of relief.

If he hadn't heeded Sherlock's advice, judging from the current situation, Bagman might actually have renege on his promise and refused to pay.

Fortunately, they only bet on a fake wand, which Bagman determined was worth five Galleons.

Even with odds of 1 to 3, Bagman would only need to give them 15 Galleons.

At this time, spectators outside the stadium were already starting to leave and return to their camp.

But the people in the upper-level private room were not in a hurry to leave.

For them, such occasions are a rare social opportunity.

People sat down in twos and threes and chatted happily.

The Weasley twins excitedly counted the fifteen Galleons, while Harry and Charlie discussed the details of the match they had just played.

Bill, Ron, and Ginny listened attentively.

Percy tried to communicate with Connelly Fudge, but it didn't seem to be going very well.

Just then, Sherlock noticed a corner of the box.

Not far away, Malfoy, seemingly stimulated by the intense match, was eagerly bargaining with his father.

The conversation between the father and son was clearly transmitted, and it was quite interesting:
"I want to buy fire crossbow bolts."

"I'll buy you a Nimbus 2002."

"I want to buy fire crossbow bolts."

"The Nimbus 2002 Super, this is an upgraded version, and its performance is excellent."

"I want to buy fire crossbow bolts!"

"You almost lost your life last time."

"If I were to ride a fire bolt, would I crash?"

"If you were riding a fire crossbow, you'd be dead already!"

The father and son stared at each other, neither willing to give in, creating a tense atmosphere.

At this moment, Narcissa gracefully walked over, and seeing the two of them in such a tense situation, she couldn't help but ask softly:
"What are you doing?"

"Mom, I want to buy a fire crossbow!"

Draco Malfoy mustered his courage and once again made his request to his mother.

Narcissa, who had been smiling, instantly darkened upon hearing this, and said sternly:
You look like a flaming crossbow bolt!

Sherlock looked away and saw Mr. Weasley excitedly recounting to Sirius how he got the tickets:

"I once helped Ludo with a small favor; his brother Odo got into a little trouble."

A lawnmower was given many special abilities, resulting in considerable chaos in the Muggle world.

"I'm the one who sorted things out, so this time he gave me a few precious World Cup tickets."

Sirius smiled slightly: "So that means you're very brave!"

"Just kidding, I'm super brave, okay?"

The British Minister of Magic, the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and the Irish Minister of Magic were also gathered together, discussing something.

Judging from Fudge's annoyed look, it was clear that the Bulgarian Minister of Magic had told the Irish Minister of Magic about what had just happened.

Similar things happen in every seat of the private room; someone can always find their partner.

Sherlock's eyes swept over these people one by one, and each scene was analyzed and organized by him subconsciously.

Finally, his gaze settled on the house-elf of the Barty Crouch family, who was said to speak over 150 languages.

Barty Crouch, who had reserved a seat for Shining, did not show up until the end of the match.

As for the little sprite Sparkle, she still covers her eyes with her hands to this day.

Sherlock naturally noticed that she maintained this posture throughout the entire match.

"Acrophobia, haha..."

Sherlock smiled and shook his head.

Luckily, I'm here today, otherwise my little brother Harry would have suffered another loss without even realizing it.

As time ticked by, the people in the private room gradually got up and prepared to leave.

"Don't tell your mother about your gambling."

Mr. Weasley glanced at the people slowly making their way to the entrance and pleaded with Fred and George.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Fred said happily. “We have many grand plans for this money, and we don’t want it to be confiscated.”

Mr. Weasley hesitated for a moment, probably wanting to ask what their grand plan was.

But after hesitating for a moment, I thought it best not to ask, so as not to upset myself.

"Well, we should leave now," Mr. Weasley said helplessly.

"Great!"

Upon hearing this, the young wizards excitedly shouted in unison, stood up, and prepared to leave with the adults.

However, at that moment, Sherlock suddenly spoke up:
“I’m sorry, Mr. Weasley, but I don’t think it’s time to leave yet.”

"why?"

Mr. Weasley asked, his face full of doubt.

Everyone else turned around and looked at Sherlock with curiosity, wondering what he was up to.

"Because I think we need to find what Harry lost first."

Sherlock's gaze was deep as he spoke slowly and deliberately.

"The missing item?"

Harry stared wide-eyed in surprise, looking completely bewildered, and said, "I... I didn't lose anything!"

"is it?"

Sherlock chuckled softly, a smile that held both excitement and anticipation.

His gaze slowly swept over Harry's coat pocket, and he asked, word by word:

"Dear Harry, then please tell me, where is your wand?"

(End of this chapter)