Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 552 Three Female Protagonists

The Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle.

Twelve towering marble pillars are entwined with shimmering gold ribbons, the ceiling reflects a magically created galaxy, and falling silver snowflakes vanish in the warm air.

As the three-way battle for supremacy gained momentum, the atmosphere of the Christmas ball, like the flames leaping in the fireplace, grew ever stronger.

The sounds of violins and accordions from the quirky sisters band intertwined and flowed under the dome, gently lifting the laughter and joy in the dance floor.

In the center of the dance floor, Gemma's silk dress spun in soft arcs, the silver threads embroidered on the hem reflecting delicate light under the lamplight.

After completing a beautiful spin, her body leaned slightly towards Sherlock, her shoulders resting lightly, as if in a natural intimacy in a waltz.

Her fingertips remained firmly clasped in Sherlock's palm, while her other hand held the wand, her knuckles subtly lifting slightly.

The next moment, a faint, almost invisible silver light flashed at the tip of the wand, and an extremely subtle magical fluctuation spread out like ripples, brushing against the hair of several dancing partners around them.

"Muffliato!"

Gemma's voice was so low that only Sherlock could catch the clear spell syllables.

Instantly, the dance partners within three feet of each other subconsciously frowned.

Because their ears were suddenly filled with a low buzzing sound, like a swarm of bees swarming, mixed with distant music, completely shutting out Gemma and Sherlock's conversation.

Some people tilted their heads in confusion, but only heard more indistinct noises, and eventually could only refocus their attention on their dance steps.

In this private space constructed by magic, Gemma's smile remained as bright as before.

But when she looked down at Sherlock, a hint of seriousness, so out of place with her joyful dance steps, flashed in her sea-blue eyes.

"Sherlock."

She moved lightly to the rhythm, her toes tapping lightly on the smooth floor, the sound reaching Sherlock's ears clearly, the trailing syllable carrying a barely perceptible hint of complaint:
“There’s something that makes me a little unhappy, and it’s about Penelope.”

"Oh?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow slightly, gently tightening his grip on Gemma's hand as he guided her through a smooth left slide.

Their dance steps remained perfectly synchronized. "Miss Clearwater? What happened to her?"

"It's Mr. Weasley, Percy Weasley."

When facing Sherlock, Gemma abandoned her usual elegance and restraint in front of others.

At this moment, the dissatisfaction in her tone was like a spark that could not be suppressed, gently splashing out:
"Both of them went on to work at the Ministry of Magic after graduation—Penelope even went to the Ministry of Magic because of him."

But that Weasley was as old-fashioned as a dusty old relic!
Their offices were so close, practically next to each other, yet he seemed to know nothing but work at the Ministry of Magic and almost never spoke to Penelope.

Penelope even thought they had broken up!
do you know?

Now, all he sees is that thick stack of documents, as thick as the bottom of a crucible, and that tiny symbol of power!

She spun in sync with Sherlock, but her tone grew increasingly sharp:
"He spends almost all his time in the office, and doesn't even come out on weekends."

Penelope complained to me that he gave her very little care and attention.

Penelope always says she understands he's busy with work, but I know she's not feeling well inside.

When I came back this time, I noticed she smiled less than before.

Sherlock led her through a light, cross step, lost in thought:
"Percy Weasley, right?"
That's right, he was like that back in school, always polishing his prefectural badge to its brightest shine.

He was even stricter with school rules than the professors, and when the Minister of Magic came to the school last year, he practically had his ambition written all over his head.

After arriving at the Ministry of Magic, this personality trait was amplified even more, with noticeable effects.

I heard the twins say that if Mr. Weasley hadn't pulled him back, he wouldn't have even planned to go home.

Unfortunately, newly appointed young people, especially those with his personality, are easily overwhelmed by the complex rules and the pressure to climb the ladder.

He naively believed that as long as he worked hard, he would be promoted, and therefore felt that neglecting his personal life was a necessary price to pay.

"cost?"

Gemma gave a soft hum, her aquamarine eyes shining brightly under the shimmering lights of the dance floor, like sapphires that had been tempered with light.
“But Penelope shouldn’t have to pay this price!”
Regardless of whether work or his girlfriend is more important, he has completely abandoned Penelope for the sake of his work!

Even when Penelope had a cold, he didn't say a single word of concern!

He always says he's too busy—does he only have the right to date when he becomes Minister of Magic?

She paused, her beautiful long eyelashes fluttering slightly, clearly indignant on behalf of her friend:

"I think he's just being held hostage by those red tape and his own rigid ideas!"
Penelope is so kind; she would spend an entire afternoon in the library just to help me find "Anthology of Ancient Magical Texts".

She remembers every friend's birthday.

She deserves to be cherished!

Instead of being treated like a decoration in an office corner, completely forgotten by him.

It is obvious that Gemma's words were a defense of her friend and a strong dissatisfaction with Percy's rigid style.

Even in the midst of his elegant dance steps, this emotion, like a leaping flame, was vividly conveyed to Sherlock.

Of course, she would only show such genuine emotion in front of Sherlock.

Sherlock did not immediately respond to Gemma's strong emotions.

He simply increased the force in his arm slightly, and with her, they completed another smooth and rapid spin.

This movement caused Gemma's long dress to billow out due to centrifugal force, like a blooming silver flower, drawing soft exclamations of admiration from several nearby dance partners.

Some people even stopped in their tracks, their eyes involuntarily following them.

"It's Fali!"

Gemma Farley!

"The female student council president who just graduated this summer!"

"Oh my god, how could she come back?"

At this moment, someone finally recognized the former school beauty.

Everyone looked on incredulously at her sudden appearance and her dancing with Sherlock.

They couldn't understand why this former Slytherin prefect, head of the student council, and most beautiful girl at Hogwarts would be with Sherlock.

Sherlock and Gemma ignored the murmurs of the onlookers. Taking advantage of a break in their spinning, Sherlock put his arm around Gemma's waist and bent down.

At this moment, their faces were almost touching.

For the first time, a blush appeared on Gemma's face.

At that moment, a bold idea suddenly popped into her mind:

All you have to do is raise your head slightly, and you'll get Sherlock's first kiss!
Just as Gemma was hesitating about whether or not she should do it.

"Sometimes, people do need to be reminded."

Sherlock remained in that position and spoke softly.

After saying that, he helped Gemma up again.

A faint sense of disappointment immediately crept into Gemma's heart. Opportunities truly are fleeting.

Sherlock continued, reiterating his earlier statement:

"...There are things in life that are more important than work orders and promotion ladders."

A mind that prioritizes rules above all else may need a little untimely interference to see its own biases.

Gemma noticed the knowing look that flashed in Sherlock's eyes, as if she instantly understood something.

She cast aside her earlier anxiety and a sly, relieved smile returned to her lips.

A pair of sea-blue eyes also lit up:

“You’re right, Sherlock, perhaps he does need a little interference.”

I'm really glad we both agree on this.

"The spell you just recited, was it to prevent others from hearing us?"

Sherlock suddenly asked, his gaze subtly sweeping over the dancer beside him.

Many people were interested in the content of their conversation.

Through this brief observation, he had roughly deduced the effect of the spell.

“That’s right, this is the Muffliato Charm.”

Gemma tilted her head and said playfully:

"This curse is only circulated among a few students, and it is said to have been invented by a senior student."

It's interesting and very useful.

Once used, it fills the ears of those around you with a buzzing sound, making it impossible for them to hear what you are saying.

If you're interested, I'll teach you after this Christmas holiday.

I plan to go home tomorrow. My parents have been saying they'll regret not going home first thing after I arrived in England.

"So, are you planning to stay until the end of the Triwizard Tournament?"

“That’s right, some members of the dragon trainer team will return to Romania early, but I asked the professor to let me stay.”

Gemma's eyes sparkled, her sea-blue gaze at Sherlock filled with tenderness and expectation, and even her voice was softer than before.

She didn't tell Sherlock that when Mr. and Mrs. Farley, who had been urging her to go home, heard that she was going to dance with Sherlock Holmes at the Christmas ball, they gave their full support.

The shrewd Mr. Farley even suggested that, if possible, they should solidify their relationship now.

Based on his connections and previous interactions with Sherlock, Mr. Farley was certain that Sherlock would achieve great things in the future!

It just so happens that their daughter is also interested in this boy, so for the Farley family, it's best to strike first!

Thinking of this, Gemma's gaze towards Sherlock suddenly took on an indescribable and ambiguous quality.

And so, in the private world created by the incantation with their ears plugged, the two danced gracefully to the music while talking in hushed tones.

From their concern for Penelope to their dissatisfaction with Percy, and their exploration of new spells, their words contained a tacit understanding that only they could comprehend.

But to others, they were just a pair of perfectly coordinated and dazzling dance partners.

Every spin and every step was so precise, as if meticulously choreographed, that it captivated the entire Christmas dance floor once again.

The eccentric sisters' music remained cheerful, the buzzing noise guarding their secret conversation, leaving only their smooth, synchronized dance steps and captivating charm for those around them to admire and praise.

Hermione and Luna were already seated on a bench at the edge of the dance floor.

Their gazes involuntarily fell on Sherlock and Gemma in the center of the dance floor.

Luna was still holding a headband adorned with feathers, her fingertips unconsciously stroking it.

Hermione straightened her back slightly, her eyes filled with a complex emotion.

She noticed that as the quirky sisters' music quickened, Sherlock and Gemma's dance moves became more fluid and rhythmic.

Their movements became increasingly larger and more intense, and the people and even the room around them made way for them.

Hermione's fingers unconsciously clenched her sleeves.

She noticed that Gemma's dancing skills were more proficient and fluid than her own before, with every movement carrying just the right amount of elegance.

Even though she had secretly practiced for a period of time without telling anyone else in preparation for the ball.

Gemma's talent in this area was already superior to mine, and her tall stature made her even more agile when spinning, giving her an undeniable advantage.

However, Sherlock remained as steady and elegant as a rock.

No matter how hurried Gemma's movements were, he could always catch her dance steps steadily, the strength in his palms always just right, as if he were creating a safe haven for her.

Their collaboration was no longer the initial tentative exploration, but a tacit dance of mutual understanding and rhythm, as if they had partnered up countless times.

She spun and jumped, her eyes closed.

Their movements were fluid and precise, as if they had rehearsed them a thousand times.

Sherlock maintained a faint smile, his grey eyes fixed intently on Gemma, as if deconstructing the logic of the dance itself.

Gemma returned the gaze with the same focused and appreciative look.

Their dance moves were so captivating that several other dancers around them couldn't help but slow down.

Some people simply stopped and looked up to admire the view.

Some people, distracted, accidentally stepped on the other person's foot, eliciting a soft gasp, yet still couldn't bear to look away.

“They danced so well!” Luna exclaimed. “It was even better than the fairy dance I saw in Diagon Alley last time.”

Hermione nodded, a hint of wistfulness in her voice: "Yes, you danced really well..."

"Hermione?"

Just then, a voice with a heavy Eastern European accent rang out beside me.

Hermione and Luna looked up at the same time and saw Viktor Krum standing in front of them.

His tall figure almost blocked the light behind him.

His expression was no longer as gloomy as usual; instead, his eyes held a hint of tension and a clear sense of anticipation.

"May I have this dance?"

Hermione was taken aback by what she heard.

She never expected that Krum would extend another invitation after she had been rejected when he asked her to be his dance partner before.

She instinctively straightened her back, and refused politely but without thinking:
“I’m sorry, Mr. Krum, I have my own dance partner…”

"But he's dancing with other people!"

Krum immediately panicked.

(End of this chapter)