Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 538 The authorities are obsessed with it
Hermione doesn't understand Quidditch.

When Ron asked her why she wasn't worried, Ginny replied:
"The moment I saw you riding your flying brooms, I knew you were going to win."

"what?"

Harry, Ron, and Cedric all stared at Ginny in surprise when they heard her say that.

Ginny, under the gaze of the three, unconsciously twirled a strand of hair with her fingertips, but her eyes remained remarkably resolute:

"Harry and Diggory, you two are the team's Seekers."

There's also Sherlock, whose talent is similar to yours, and who Wood always wants to bring into the team.

With a combination like this, I really can't see how you could lose.

She paused, her gaze falling on Cedric's bandaged shoulder, her tone softening slightly:
"But I didn't expect Diggory to still get injured..."

"It's just a minor injury, but Ms. Pomfrey's magic is more effective than I expected."

Cedric smiled and raised his arm, his gaze sweeping towards the entrance of the stands:
"Miss Weasley, on the other hand, has more confidence in herself than we do."

"Father, like son."

Ginny glanced at Harry, a faint smile playing on her lips, her words carrying a composure that was hard for others to understand.

Since returning from Hogsmeade, she seems to have truly learned, as Hermione said, to keep her feelings hidden and to take things less seriously.

“I think Sherlock will gently comfort Miss Granger,” Cedric added.

"Comfort? Forget about it!"

Ginny sighed softly. She was quite familiar with Sherlock now and said without hesitation:

"The word 'gentle comfort' probably doesn't exist in his dictionary. At most, he'll analyze and reason with Hermione."

"What? Is that so? Is Sherlock really that kind of person?" Cedric looked surprised.

Harry nodded seriously: "He is indeed that kind of person."

Shh, they're about to give you scores!

Ron suddenly lowered his voice and pointed to the referee's table, where five referees sat on raised golden chairs.

Ms. Olim Maxim was the first to take action.

The headmistress of Beauxbatons was tall, with a black velvet robe draped over her chair.

Her gaze swept heavily over the charred ground ravaged by Hungarian wood bees, then she glanced indifferently at the direction of the tents in the distance.

Finally, her wand moved lightly, and a wisp of silver ribbon floated from the tip, twisting into a neat "7" in the air.

“It’s acceptable,” Ron said in a low voice.

Harry and Cedric exchanged a nod; the score was indeed not low.

However, both of them were well aware that since the people from Beauxbatons had not yet appeared, the female principal held back a bit when giving her scores.

Cedric pondered for a moment and said, "I think it's probably because her students haven't taken the stage yet."

Harry recalled Hermione's trembling figure as she rushed out earlier.

Perhaps sometimes, the agony of waiting is more agonizing than facing the fire dragon head-on.

However, as Ron said, this result was acceptable to him.

Next up is Mad-Eye Moody.

His magical blue eye spun wildly in its socket, and after a moment, a flash of red light appeared, condensing into a striking "9" in the air.

"Haha, that's more like it!"

Ron patted Harry on the back excitedly, his voice almost drowning out the cheers around them:
"No wonder my father speaks highly of him—he truly deserves to be our own Auror!"

The cheers from the audience instantly rose to a fever pitch.

Next up is Dumbledore, who sits in the very center.

His long, silvery-white beard swayed gently as he raised his hand, and the tip of his wand glowed with a warm white light, drawing the number "9" in the air.

"There's a show!"

Ron clenched his fist tightly. "I knew Professor Dumbledore was the fairest!"

"I guess he didn't give you a 10 because he was afraid you'd get arrogant."

Ginny chuckled and teased, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed Harry's ears were slightly red, and then quietly looked away.

Harry and Cedric exchanged a glance and couldn't help but laugh.

A perfect score of 10 is already a luxury – even if they get the golden egg, Cedric's injury means it's not truly perfect.

Nine points is the highest score expected.

If Professor Karkaroff and Mr. Bagman give it another seven or eight points, Hogwarts' lead will be secure.

But the next second, the cheers from the entire audience suddenly stopped as if a string had been snapped.

Igor Kakarov's face was so dark it could drip water.

He didn't even glance at the venue, only glancing at Dumbledore out of the corner of his eye, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.

Then, with a very perfunctory flick of the wand, a grayish light condensed into the number 4 in the air.

The air froze instantly.

"What a joke!"

Ron jumped to his feet, his already clenched fists cracking as he exclaimed, "Is this old man blind?!"

"That's so unfair!" Ginny stood up too, her small body ramrod straight, her voice clear enough to pierce the silence. "We were clearly the best!"

Harry's nails dug deep into his palms, and anger flickered in his eyes like flames.

He can accept fair judgment, but he cannot tolerate such blatant favoritism.

Cedric shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, his eyes filled with anger, but even more so with helplessness at this injustice.

The audience erupted in chaos.

A huge chorus of boos and protests erupted as Hogwarts students angrily pounded on the railings of the stands.

Even Professor Flitwick was so angry that he stood on tiptoe and cursed, "Shameless!"

"Shadow!"

"mean!"

"Shameless!"

"Kakarov, I'll fuck your mother!"

Some impulsive students even shouted out profanities, startling Professor McGonagall, who frowned but ultimately did not speak up to stop them.

"Dear Albus, it seems that the quality of your school's students still needs to be improved."

Karkaroff frowned insincerely and turned to Dumbledore, saying, "Your vulgar language is truly disappointing."

"Professor Karkarov, our school has always respected freedom of speech."

Dumbledore still wore a gentle smile, his half-moon spectacles gleaming in the sunlight.

"Children's gratitude is always so direct and heartfelt, isn't it?"

Karkarov snorted coldly, abruptly turned his head away, and his face became even more unpleasant.

"Haha, don't worry, you two, I'm here for you!"

Ludobagman was so excited that his face turned bright red.

Clearly, the excitement from the previous commentary hadn't worn off yet.

Just as Karkaroff was about to turn around and ask a question, he saw Bagman practically jumping and waving his wand. A dazzling golden light shot straight into the sky and condensed into a large "10".

The entire venue erupted in cheers!
The boos of discontent were replaced by deafening cheers, and the students waved their hands so hard that they shouted themselves hoarse.

Full score!

Truly perfect!
"Ten...ten points?" Harry instinctively rubbed his eyes, hardly believing what he was seeing. Cedric was also stunned, raising his hand to touch his shoulder: "But...I'm injured..."

"Hey, don't spoil the fun now!" Ron put his arm around their shoulders and shook them excitedly. "Mr. Bagman is much more generous than Professor Dumbledore!"

"that is!"

Ginny laughed and gently hugged Harry's arm. "He's not afraid of you getting arrogant!"

Harry's cheeks flushed slightly, and his gaze inadvertently met Ginny's eyes.

Her eyes were clear and bright, filled with pure joy, without a trace of the grievance Hermione had mentioned earlier.

He secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but then felt a strange pang of guilt and quickly looked away.

As soon as the two finished their conversation, shouts from the dragon trainers suddenly rang out from the other side of the arena.

The Durmstrang team, drawn second in the pick, has entered the arena. They will face a Chinese fireball with bright red scales.

"It doesn't seem as big as the Hungarian wood bee?"

Neville and Dean squeezed in, Neville staring at the fire dragon, his voice trembling slightly.

He was quite frightened by the fire dragon just now, and the thought that his grandmother actually made him participate in this three-way competition made him feel a wave of fear.

“The Hungarian Hornet is one of the fiercest fire dragons!” Ron slammed his fist on the railing in frustration. “The judges should have taken that into account when they were scoring, and given us a few extra points!”

"That's a good suggestion. You can bring it up with the organizers after this project is finished."

Sherlock's voice rang out softly.

Everyone turned to look, and saw Sherlock and Hermione walking side by side.

Hermione's hair was combed back together, and the stray hairs on her forehead were tucked behind her ears.

But upon closer inspection, the red marks at the corners of her eyes had not completely faded, and her cheeks still had a lingering blush.

She was clutching a small cloth bag in her hand, which was the schoolbag she had left on the stands earlier.

"Sherlock! Hermione!"

Ron immediately waved, "You guys are finally here! That old bastard Karkaroff only gave us 4 points, we were so angry!"

The two followed Ron's finger and looked toward the referee's stand, where they saw Karkaroff speaking to Ms. Maxim with a gloomy face.

Hermione pursed her lips, not immediately joining the attack as she usually would.

She quietly walked up to Ginny and hid her schoolbag behind her back.

Just now outside the tent, she finally slipped the calendula ointment to Sherlock.

Ginny noticed her subtle movements and leaned closer to ask in a low voice, "Are you alright?"

"Hmm," Hermione nodded gently, "I was too hasty just now."

As she spoke, she looked at Sherlock, who was staring intently at Durmstrang's group.

Viktor Krum stood at the front, gripping his wand tightly, his face still grim.

Toby Tosen and Lucas Poliacco followed closely behind.

Both of them had tense eyes.

"Do you think Krum might summon his flying broomstick too?"

Ron asked curiously, "He should have heard Mr. Bagman's explanation and know what happened, right?"

Ron's reminder made everyone realize what was going on.

Yes, Krum is one of the best Seekers in the world.

In terms of technical skill alone, he is superior to Harry and Cedric.

If he had just heard Mr. Bagman's explanation, there was no reason not to do so.

After all, there's no rule that says you can't learn from your opponents, right?
"He will certainly do that."

Sherlock said confidently, "Once he gets on his flying broomstick, his advantage will only be greater than ours."

As if to verify Sherlock's words, Krum indeed raised his wand the next moment!

The summoning spell was successfully cast, and a flying broom came whistling through the air.

However, the Chinese fireball seems to be more agile than the Hungarian wood bee.

It suddenly turned around, and its tail swept across with a whoosh, causing the flying broom to sway in the air before finally stabilizing.

Krum hurriedly jumped onto the broom and soared high into the air.

The Chinese fireball roared angrily, its mouth spewing forth a ball of flame.

Krum nimbly dodged to the side on his flying broom.

His two teammates, instead of flying into the sky like Krum, raised their wands and chanted spells.

Two beams of red light shot towards the Chinese fireball, but unfortunately they struck the fireball's hard surface and posed no real threat.

Instead, their actions angered the Chinese fireball, who stopped paying attention to Krum in the air and turned his attention to Toby Torsen and Lucas Poliaco on the ground.

Tosen and Poliaco were so scared they almost peed their pants. Without saying a word, they turned and ran.

"Split up! Don't run in the same direction!"

Krum, high in the sky, couldn't help but shout a reminder.

Torsen and Poliaco then realized what was happening and quickly changed direction.

Krum: (ー`ー)
As he watched his two teammates run off in the same direction once again, Krum's face grew increasingly grim.

But seeing that if he didn't make a move, his two teammates would probably become the fire dragon's meal, he could only take a deep breath and dive directly towards the Chinese fireball.

The high-speed movement of Krum successfully drew the attention of the Chinese fireball.

Upon seeing this, Krum immediately stopped his dive and leaped into the air.

It must be said that his Longkis feints were far more skillful than Harry's.

Amid the gasps of the audience, a burst of flames erupted, but he nimbly dodged it aside.

At this moment, Krum's two teammates seemed to have realized what was happening, and they seized the opportunity to cast their spells on the Chinese fireball once again.

Unfortunately, the shot missed again.

Next, Krum rode his broomstick alone, circling in the air and diving several times, weaving back and forth around the Chinese fireball's body.

To the audience, this scene was incredibly dangerous.

There was no precise time difference, no reckless sprint; he simply relied on his personal strength to break through.

Neither the flames spewed by the Chinese fireball nor his sweeping attacks could harm Krum.

"He's really amazing!"

Harry said admiringly, "If he had two good teammates, he could have succeeded in less than five minutes!"

"Unfortunately, he didn't."

Cedric said with a smile.

A full ten minutes passed—almost three times the time taken by the three warriors of Hogwarts—before the game finally took a turn for the better.

Poliaco's curse finally struck the eye of the Chinese fireball.

The Chinese fireball suddenly let out a terrifying, earth-shattering scream.

The eyes are the most vulnerable part of the fire dragon's body.

This was their goal from the very beginning.

The accuracy is a bit poor.

Fortunately, it was successful in the end.

Without saying a word, Krum seized the golden egg while the fire dragon was struggling in pain and flew away from the field in a rather disheveled manner.

(End of this chapter)