Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 556 My brain is flooded

The Hogwarts Christmas Ball is like a beautiful dream that one doesn't want to wake up from, and many people secretly hope that time can slow down, and slow down even more.

Harry was one of them.

Whether it was gently twirling in the waltz with Cho Chang on the dance floor, or stepping side by side with Ginny to the rhythm of a slow dance, both moments were like honey-coated sugar, so sweet that they warmed his heart.

He even had a vague premonition:
If you ever encounter the cold despair of Dementors again, just close your eyes and recall the laughter and warmth of those four hours tonight.

Unfortunately, some things, no, I should say most things, are beyond human control.

When the hour and minute hands of the old clock hanging on the wall of the auditorium overlapped at the 12 position, midnight arrived as scheduled.

The eccentric sisters finally stopped playing their instruments.

As the last note faded into the air, the entire audience erupted in the loudest applause.

The applause was filled with reluctance, and then the crowd slowly moved toward the lobby, gradually receding like the tide.

"Thank you, Sherlock, I had a lot of fun today!"

Upon arriving at the foyer, Luna was preparing to follow Cho Chang back to the Ravenclaw Tower.

She turned around and waved vigorously at Sherlock, her eyes still sparkling with the light left over from the ball.

"Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

"Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

Ron suddenly leaned over and said, half-jokingly.

His tone carried a hint of self-satisfaction:

"After all, you were able to attend the Christmas ball because of my invitation; Sherlock didn't invite you to dance."

Harry's heart skipped a beat when he heard Ron's words.

He knew Ron, and he knew Luna.

Saying that is bound to bring trouble.

As expected, Luna's already somewhat bulging eyes widened instantly, and her tone was blunt and uncompromising:

"But you just can't keep up with me! You can't keep up with my pace at all."

Sherlock nodded and thoughtfully added, "Actually, it's not bad. At least he didn't step on Ginny like Neville did."

Ron: "..."

I'm so stupid, really.

I already knew he was a guy like Sherlock, so why did I say that?

Putting aside this little incident, everyone was very satisfied with tonight's dance.

Ron was the same; although Luna initially disliked him, he later got along quite well with Lavender.

Needless to say, the others are even more so.

They all wished the ball could be extended a little longer.

But for Sherlock, the ball itself was not important.

What really bothered him was the information Gemma had told him in the garden.

The secret conversation between Snape and Karkaroff, and the argument between Hagrid and Madam Maxim.

Gemma knew him well; these messages were exactly what piqued his interest.

He thought to himself that it seemed necessary to have a good talk with Professor Snape.

After saying goodbye to Gemma, Cho Chang, Luna, and others in the foyer, Sherlock, Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed toward the Gryffindor Tower together.

In front of the portrait opening, the fat lady and her friend Violet were fast asleep inside the portrait frame.

"Light of the Fairyland!"

The lion cubs had to gather around the portrait frames and shout the commands at the top of their lungs to wake the two portraits from their slumber.

However, they were very annoyed when they were woken up.

"This is your job."

Sherlock stepped forward, his tone seemingly calm, yet carrying an undeniable authority:
"Guard the entrance to Gryffindor Tower and open the door for eligible students. You have no right to lose your temper here."

The fat lady and Violet wanted to argue, but when they saw that the speaker was Sherlock Holmes, they immediately fell silent, their anger extinguished as if by a bucket of cold water.

Without a word, the plump lady lifted the portrait, making way for the opening to the common lounge.

"Sherlock, you are truly amazing!"

The lion cubs squeezed into the common room and gathered around, their eyes filled with admiration as they looked at Sherlock.

"I never thought even portraits would be afraid of you!"

"Yes, yes, as expected of our Lion King, truly outstanding!"

"With Sherlock and Harry around, we're guaranteed to win this Triwizard Tournament!"

Just now at the dance, everyone was still immersed in excitement and wished time could stand still a little longer.

But as soon as the ball ended, weariness surged in like a rising tide, and my eyelids felt as heavy as lead.

The boys and girls said their goodbyes in the center of the common lounge, many with blushes of reluctance on their faces.

It's obvious to anyone with eyes that in just one night, Hogwarts must have seen quite a few couples secretly holding hands.

Hermione deliberately stayed until the very end.

She walked up to Sherlock and first said softly:
"Um... Sherlock, thank you."

Then, taking advantage of Sherlock's inattention, she quickly tiptoed and gently kissed him on the cheek.

After doing this, she blushed instantly, as if she had been burned.

Then he turned around and ran into the girls' dormitory in a flash, not daring to look back at all.

Sherlock paused for a moment, looking at Hermione's disappearing figure with some confusion, and reached out to touch his cheek where he had been kissed.

I really don't understand why she ran away.

"It's not the first time..."

He shook his head helplessly, then turned and left.

For him, the four hours of the Christmas ball were somewhat of a waste of time.

I need to make up for all that time tonight.

On the morning of the second day after Christmas, a lazy atmosphere enveloped the entire Hogwarts, and everyone got up exceptionally late.

The Gryffindor Tower was no exception; even Sherlock, who usually took Harry and Neville to practice boxing and swordplay without fail, unusually refrained from doing so.

After breakfast, the group returned to the common lounge.

It's much quieter here than a few days ago, with only a few people sitting on the sofas, chatting idly.

His speech was frequently interrupted by yawns, and even the flames in the fireplace seemed lazy, flickering exceptionally slowly.

Hermione sat on the sofa, her hair back to its usual messy state, like a bunch of bursting dandelions.

She was naturally candid with her three friends, saying that she had sprayed a lot of quick-smoothing hairspray on her hair yesterday in preparation for the dance.

This is the main reason why it took her so long.

"But doing this every day would be too troublesome. It's better to be as comfortable as I am now."

She said this pragmatically, while scratching Crookshan's ear.

The cat squinted comfortably, purring softly, its tail gently brushing against her wrist.

"Isn't that what all girls do?" Ron was a little puzzled, since his only sister, Ginny, spent a lot of time on makeup every day.

Harry nodded in agreement, recalling Hermione's appearance last night in a light blue dress, her hair flowing smoothly over her shoulders, and said sincerely:
“You looked really good yesterday, very different.”

Hermione ignored Ron and Harry's words and instead looked up at Sherlock.

Clearly, in her mind, only Sherlock's opinion was worthy of her attention.

To her disappointment, Sherlock was looking down at a book called "Forgotten Ancient Magic and Spells" and didn't notice her gaze at all, let alone continue the discussion about whether her hair looked good or not.

She couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle, thinking to herself that this was Sherlock, after all; it was normal for him not to care about this.

Since they couldn't continue the conversation about hair, Hermione simply relayed everything Gemma had told her the day before to Harry and Ron.

This includes Snape and Karkaroff's secret conversation in the garden, and Hagrid and Madam Maxim's argument about the half-giant.

Because Sherlock had already deduced Hagrid's identity from the details, and Hagrid later admitted it himself, Harry and Ron were not too surprised after hearing it.

Both of them agreed that the giants were not a big deal.

Hermione went even further, pointing out that the wizarding world's current attitude towards giants is the same as its attitude towards werewolves—purely a form of prejudice.

"When the majority of a group exhibits consistency, the individuals within it will inevitably be affected."

Sherlock put down his book and spoke softly:
"Once a preconceived notion is formed, it becomes very difficult to change it."

This kind of preconceived behavior can be simply called 'labeling'.

It is clearly inappropriate for those who truly wish to pursue the truth.

However, for the vast majority of people in this world, this has become a time-saving and labor-saving habit.

For example, people might say that the United States emphasizes liberalism, the French admire romance, Germans are meticulous and efficient, and all Chinese people know kung fu...

These labels may summarize some characteristics, but they ignore individual differences.

"And what about the British?" Harry asked, intrigued by the topic, his eyes full of curiosity.

Sherlock raised his eyelids slightly and uttered three words in a flat tone: "The food is terrible."

Harry: "..."

Ron: "..."

Hermione: "..."

Sherlock's words nearly left the three speechless.

Although I really wanted to refute it, upon closer reflection, it seems to make a lot of sense.

Harry, in particular, recalled how Cho Chang had complained to him more than once about the terrible food in Britain.

After a brief silence, Hermione changed the subject first, her tone tinged with regret:

"It seems Hagrid and Ms. Maxim are not going to get together. What a pity."

Besides Sherlock, Harry and Ron also nodded in agreement.

After all, Hagrid is a good man, and everyone hopes he can find happiness.

After all... Hagrid is a good man.

"One more thing."

Hermione changed the subject, looking at the three of them, her tone becoming serious:
"During the first week of the holiday, everyone was busy having fun."

Now that the Christmas ball is over, it's time to think about homework.

Papers on Transfiguration, recipe analyses for Potions class, and reports on the history of magic—they're all waiting for us.

This time, no one refuted Hermione's words.

After all, homework is unavoidable.

If we delay any longer, we'll be in a real mess when school starts.

The excitement of the Christmas ball was like a fleeting firework display; after it ended, everyone's mood gradually calmed down.

It's definitely time to refocus and get back to a normal routine.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Just then, Hermione noticed that Harry was frowning and looking a little dazed, so she couldn't help but ask.

"I'm thinking about the three-way championship."

Harry said with some concern:
"Once Christmas is over, February 24th suddenly seems much closer."

But we still don't know what the second project is, and the secret of the golden egg remains unsolved..."

"Hey, I thought it was something serious!"

Ron waved his hand dismissively and patted Harry on the shoulder:

"With Sherlock around, what are you worried about!"

Maybe he's already figured out the secret of the golden egg!

Right, Lao Xia?

“Yes,” Sherlock nodded and said calmly.

"See, I told you..."

Ron was only halfway through his sentence when he suddenly realized what he was saying and looked at Sherlock in surprise, "What? You really solved it?"

Harry and Hermione stared at Sherlock with equally incredulous expressions.

It's still the Christmas holiday season!

They had only had the golden egg for a little over two weeks, and there were still two whole months until February 24th. Sherlock had already solved the secret?
Ron, being the most impatient, immediately moved closer to Sherlock and pressed, "What secret is hidden inside the golden egg? Tell us!"

"Yes, Sherlock, tell us now!"

Harry immediately agreed, his anxiety instantly replaced by curiosity, and he involuntarily leaned forward.

Hermione looked at Sherlock with a serious expression. "Sherlock, what preparations do we need to make for the second project?"

"This is exactly what I wanted to tell you, my dear friends—"

Sherlock smiled slightly, his gaze sweeping over the three of them. "We need to find a way to breathe underwater for extended periods of time, and ideally, this method should also support vigorous underwater activity."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged bewildered glances.

Underwater breathing? And then strenuous exercise?
Is this the second event in the Triwizard Tournament?

This sounds like something's not going well!
"How to breathe underwater?" Harry frowned, repeating Sherlock's words, still not understanding.

"Still need to engage in strenuous exercise? Does the second event involve swimming in the water?" Ron scratched his head, looking completely bewildered.

"Sherlock, you'd better make your point clearer."

Hermione finally couldn't contain herself and spoke up:
"We want to know how you did it, and what the secret of the golden egg is."

Upon hearing this, Sherlock couldn't help but burst into laughter.

The clear laughter was particularly loud in the quiet common lounge, attracting the attention of everyone around.

"It's actually very simple. After I got back to my dorm last night, I went out and took a shower," Sherlock explained with a smile.

"You took a shower?"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron said in unison, their eyes filled with even greater confusion.

Can you unlock the secret of the golden egg by taking a shower?
what is this?
Does getting water in your brain help you generate inspiration?

(End of this chapter)