Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 546 Another Christmas
"haven't seen you for a long time."

"Yeah, long time no see."

The air in the Room of Requirement is filled with the faint scent of cedar, the walls are illuminated by the warm glow of the fireplace, and the soft carpet absorbs all footsteps.

The two girls stood facing each other for a good half minute, the flickering firelight from the fireplace reflecting in their eyes.

The two then smiled at each other and opened their arms for a gentle hug.

When their fingertips touched, they both felt the warmth of each other's palms.

Hermione Granger's hair was meticulously combed, and the tip of her nose still carried the slight chill of the outdoor air.

Gemma Farley, dressed in a sharply tailored dark coat, had sea-blue eyes that resembled a calm black lake in winter.

These two women, who are now closest to Sherlock, quietly met here on the afternoon before Christmas.

They were both incredibly intelligent girls, and after a few words about daily life in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary and recent trivial matters at Hogwarts, the conversation naturally turned to the main topic.

"Thank you, Gemma."

Hermione looked at Gemma, her fingers unconsciously clenching her sleeves, and said sincerely:
"If you invite Sherlock to be your dance partner first, he certainly won't refuse."

Do you think I'm waiting for you?

A faint, clear smile slowly appeared on Gemma's lips. She tilted her head slightly and carefully examined Hermione, who was looking extremely serious. A knowing glint flashed in her sea-blue eyes.

"Yes, I know very well that you care about him."

Hermione took a deep breath, looked directly into Gemma's beautiful sea-blue eyes, and spoke with a hint of emotion:
"After graduation, you went to the dragon sanctuary in Romania and became an excellent dragon tamer."

Unfortunately, this year, the Triwizard Tournament was restarted, and the restarted tournament was held at Hogwarts, with the first challenge being through a dragon...

I don't know what others think, but...

Don't you think this is a special kind of fate?
It was these coincidences that brought you back to Hogwarts and back to Sherlock's side.

Given your understanding of him and the special chemistry between you, if you were to ask him to be your dance partner first, he definitely wouldn't refuse.

He has always trusted and respected you, Gemma.

These are Hermione's heartfelt words of reflection.

Ever since Harry told her about it, she has been thinking about it carefully whenever she has time, and now she has come to terms with reality.

Upon hearing Hermione's words, Gemma did not immediately deny them.

She turned gracefully and walked to the window, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the cold window frame.

Although the view outside the window is a winter forest transformed from the House of Requirement, with thick snow piled on the pine branches.

Even at this moment, such a scene still stirred Gemma's thoughts.

“Dear Hermione, you’re half right.”

She slowly turned around, meeting Hermione's slightly surprised gaze, her tone as calm as if she were discussing the December weather:

“I am indeed waiting, but… besides waiting for your actions, I am also waiting for him…”

The conversation abruptly ended there.

Gemma knew very well that the girl opposite her was perceptive and could naturally understand the unspoken words.

However, this was to be expected.

Even according to the tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, the warriors are expected to bring a dance partner to lead the dance, but it is unlikely that Sherlock would take the initiative to invite a dance partner.

As it turned out, things turned out exactly as I had expected.

Ultimately, it was a bit of a pity that she didn't get that proactive signal.

Thinking of this, her eyes remained clear and bright, with a hint of mischievous smile:

"After all, the whole school knows now that he has agreed to be your official dance partner, right?"

Right now, I'm just waiting in line for that second dance.

Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly, like an apple glowing in the firelight.

But the weight that had been hanging over me because I was worried that Gemma would mind was lifted, and I felt even more respect for Gemma's magnanimity.

She never imagined that Gemma not only knew about it, but could also bring it up so openly.

"You and I both know him very well, don't we?"

Gemma continued speaking.

When Sherlock was mentioned, a gentle light immediately shone in her sea-blue eyes:
"He is a genius, radiant with brilliance."

In the Muggle world, he can use deduction to uncover the real culprit.

In the magical world, he could see through the flaws in spells.

He is like the sharpest sword, invincible.

But as I told you before I graduated, on other things…

She stretched out her finger and gently tapped her temple, making a rather humorous little gesture:
"For example, understanding one's own feelings, or realizing what agreeing to dance with you means..."

He was sometimes as dull as an old stone that had been submerged in a dark lake for a hundred years.

These words instantly reminded Hermione of Sherlock's accurate assessment of Ron not long ago: "lust at first sight," a statement that was both blunt and cruel.

She couldn't help but chuckle, feeling that the distance between her and Gemma had shrunk considerably.

To be honest, if I were Sherlock, I probably would have fallen for a girl as insightful and outstanding as her long ago, right?
Intelligent, intellectual, and beautiful, she still knows how to assess situations.

Thinking of this, she also walked to the window and stood side by side with Gemma, gazing at the imagined snow scene outside:
You're absolutely right.

He could see through all the complex conspiracies and unpredictable human nature, but only in matters of personal emotion…

Hermione paused, unsure of how to put it, "Actually, just recently, Harry was reminiscing about this with me."

She then briefly recounted her recent conversation with Harry.

"Just as our savior said."

Upon hearing Hermione's words, Gemma smiled faintly, her gaze honest and warm.
"You are one of the few witches he treats specially; you are brave, intelligent, and have an indomitable spirit."

I've thought it through clearly. Even if you and I invite him at the same time, he'll only respond with the same logic of having already optimized dance partner arrangements and executing social procedures.

Since that's the case, why should I interfere with the process he's already finalized?

As she spoke, she spread her hands, her smile carrying a hint of indulgent pampering, as if she were talking about a child who didn't know any better.

Hermione nodded vigorously.

Now that I think about it, if Gemma had actually extended an invitation to Sherlock, he would indeed have reacted that way.

"But I still want to thank you, Gemma."

Hermione turned her head and said in a solemn and meticulous tone:

“I can tell that he treats you differently.”

He trusts your wisdom and has praised you to me more than once.

I even feel that only when he's with you does his cold, hard logic take on a touch of warmth.

“My dear Hermione, you underestimate yourself far too much.”

Upon hearing this, Gemma couldn't help but burst out laughing:

“You are wonderful, intelligent, brave, and full of strength. Sherlock has long been attracted to you.”

"No, it's not just him. If I were a boy, I'd probably be completely smitten with you by now." "Gemma, what are you talking about!" Hermione retorted instinctively, her ears burning slightly. "I'm just a bookworm, a little bit clever, that's all."

"If that's the case, how could you attract one of the best seekers in the world?"

Gemma's words were like a pebble, instantly stirring up a thousand waves in Hermione's heart.

She abruptly looked up at Gemma, her face filled with shock, her voice trembling slightly:

"Gemma, how...how could you..."

She never told anyone about this, not even Sherlock!
"Don't forget, that's a big celebrity. He attracts attention wherever he goes."

Gemma chuckled softly, "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I've also been spending a lot of time in the school library lately."

Hermione suddenly realized.

"Okay, let's not talk about this anymore."

Gemma patted her shoulder gently, her tone becoming cheerful.

From the beginning of the conversation, she was the one guiding the pace, but Hermione was already used to this composure.

Let's talk about the Christmas ball.

In those high-profile situations, sometimes a small adjustment can make us more confident.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Appearance."

Although he's not someone who cares much about appearance, if you could make some changes, I think you'd definitely wow everyone.

As Gemma spoke, she suddenly winked playfully, a mischievous glint in her sea-blue eyes:
"If you trust me, perhaps I can offer some advice?"

Hermione froze, instinctively uttering, "Huh?"

On Christmas morning, Sherlock, Harry, and Ron received Mrs. Weasley's annual package, as they always do.

"Oh, no!"

When Ron opened the package and saw the dark purple hand-knitted sweater inside, he looked like a wilted eggplant.

He held up the sweater and wailed, "Why is it dark purple again?"

In fact, he has complained about it many times.

Unfortunately, his opinions were never valued by his mother.

Thankfully, the handmade sandwich pies that came with the sweater weren't corned beef flavored at all.

That's some consolation.

However, when he saw Sherlock and Harry's sweaters, his eyes widened.

The two wore brightly colored sweaters; Harry's was grass green, and Sherlock's was dark blue.

In addition to the capital letters H and S that appear every year on the front of their sweaters, there is also a lifelike fire dragon.

Ron held his dark purple sweater, beginning to deeply question the meaning of life.

Who exactly are the Weasley children?
"It seems that Charlie told Mrs. Weasley everything about the Hungarian wood bee."

Harry stroked the dragon pattern on his sweater, turned to Sherlock, and said with a smile in his eyes.

"Obviously, my friend."

Sherlock ran his fingertips along the dragon's wings, a hint of barely perceptible pleasure in his voice.

A dragon is much more complicated than a single letter; the stitches on this sweater are finer than in previous years, clearly showing that Mrs. Weasley put a lot of thought into it.

As for the gifts from others, they were just like in previous years, full of personal touches.

Dumbledore gave each of them a box of Honeydukes cream-filled chocolates.

Sirius gave each person a lightweight pencil sharpener, which also came with gadgets that could unlock all sorts of locks and untie all sorts of knots.

Hagrid sent Sherlock homemade rock cakes and gave Harry and Ron a large box of sweets, with all their favorite flavors.

Hermione and Cho Chang both gave books as gifts: they brought Sherlock detective novels from both the East and the West, and Harry received Quidditch-related ones.

Almost all the young wizards who stayed at school spent the morning in their respective towers, happily unwrapping their gifts, their laughter drifting far down the stairwell.

The Christmas lunch, held in the Great Hall, was an extravagant feast:

At least a hundred golden-brown, juicy turkeys stuffed with sausages and apples; mountains of Christmas pudding topped with hot brandy that bursts into blue flames when lit; and piles of Kribitch wizard crackers, mead, and pumpkin juice.

The candlelight on the long table flickered, casting a warm glow on everyone's faces.

The snow stopped in the afternoon.

The Weasley twins ran over excitedly and dragged them to the playground for a snowball fight.

The playground outside the castle was completely covered with snow, like a huge white velvet carpet.

Apart from a deep footprint left by Durmstrang and Beauxbatons' students as they returned to the castle, there were no other traces.

Sherlock never participates in these kinds of games.

No one else had any objections.

Because with his observation skills and reaction speed, once he joins in, the outcome becomes a foregone conclusion, and the fun is lost.

He leaned against the stone wall of the castle, hands in his pockets, watching the melee on the playground:

Ginny was chasing George with a snowball in her hand, while Harry and Ron took the opportunity to team up and attack Fred, splattering snow everywhere.

Ginny, on the other hand, became very close with Harry and the Weasley brothers.

Hermione didn't participate either; she sat down on the stone steps next to Sherlock and watched the scene with a smile.

"Why did you suddenly decide to get braces?"

Sherlock suddenly spoke, his gaze falling on her profile.

Hermione's previously prominent front teeth had become noticeably smaller, and when she smiled with her lips pursed, her teeth were as neatly arranged as pearls.

Hermione abruptly looked up, a flicker of surprise mixed with shy panic in her eyes:
"Oh, when did you find it?"

“When I saw you in the common room this morning,” Sherlock said bluntly, “your teeth were much straighter than yesterday, and your lips looked softer as a result.”

"I knew I couldn't hide it from you."

Hermione smiled, her eyes curving into crescents, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. "It was Gemma who helped."

"So, you were with her at the Room of Requirement last night?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow slightly; this was something he hadn't expected.

“That’s right! She said she could help me straighten my teeth, and she was very confident.”

Hermione's tone was full of gratitude, "You know, Madam Pomfrey always says that magic shouldn't be used for beauty—unless my teeth are under some kind of spell that makes them as long as an elephant."

At this point, Hermione couldn't help but find it amusing.

How could such a thing possibly happen?
“She wouldn’t have said that if she didn’t have confidence.”

Sherlock said with certainty.

He knew Gemma; she would never say that if she wasn't sure.

Judging from the results, she did a great job.

(End of this chapter)