Ever since news broke that students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would arrive before Halloween, rumors spread rapidly among the student body like highly contagious bacteria.
Rumors about who would compete as Hogwarts' champion, what tasks the Triwizard Tournament would include, and how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang might differ from them circulated constantly.
As the saying goes, where there's smoke, there's fire.
During this process, some rumors seemed so detailed and vivid they sounded entirely true.
Sherlock, Harry, and Cedric had already become the hot favorites as potential champions.
As for the tournament tasks, speculation ran wild. Some said they would fly to the clouds, others claimed they would dive underwater, and still others insisted they would navigate through a maze.
Some people said Beauxbatons was in France and was an all-girls school where the young women were exceptionally beautiful.
Others claimed Durmstrang was in Germany and had produced many famous dark wizards throughout history.
Beyond these rumors, the school itself took action.
The most obvious change was that Hogwarts castle underwent a thorough cleaning.
Several filthy portraits were scrubbed clean.
Since no one usually paid attention to them, the subjects of these newly washed portraits were highly displeased about being cleaned.
"Dirty is fine with me, why bother us?"
"I'm dirty and proud of it, can you match my dirtiness?"
"Just some country folk coming to visit, is all this fuss really necessary?"
They huddled in their frames, muttering sarcastically with resentful tones.
Every time they touched the newly exposed pink tender flesh on their faces; they grimaced in pain.
The previously rusty suits of armor now gleamed brightly.
They no longer creaked when they moved either.
Unlike the portraits, the armor seemed quite satisfied with this development.
Throughout this process, the caretaker Filch made his presence aggressively known.
Whenever he spotted students who had forgotten to wipe their shoes clean, he would fly into a fierce rage.
He was so terrifying that he even reduced two first-year students to tears in public.
Only when facing Sherlock would he rarely crack a slight smile.
After all, by now Mrs. Norris couldn't live without her premium cat food.
Remarkably, it wasn't just the school caretaker. Even the other staff members seemed unusually tense.
"Longbottom, please do everyone a favor and don't embarrass yourself in front of the Durmstrang visitors!" Professor McGonagall said sternly near the end of a Transfiguration class. "Don't let them see that you haven't even mastered a simple Switching Spell!"
She said this mainly because Neville had accidentally grafted his own ear onto a cactus.
And so, the remaining week passed in excitement and anticipation among the Hogwarts students.
Finally, October thirty-first arrived.
When the young wizards came downstairs for breakfast that morning, they found the Great Hall had been decorated overnight.
Although the school hall was always filled with festive atmosphere on the eve of Halloween each year, today was clearly extraordinarily different.
Huge silk banners hung on the walls, each representing one of Hogwarts' houses. Red with a golden lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin.
Each house's representative animal paired with two colors stubbornly proclaimed their respective existence.
Behind the staff table hung the largest banner of all, displaying Hogwarts' coat of arms. The lion, eagle, badger, and snake were united together, surrounding a large letter H.
Seeing this design, Sherlock couldn't help feeling somewhat nostalgic.
Three years ago that summer, an owl had delivered his Hogwarts acceptance letter.
The front of the envelope bore his address and name, while the back displayed this very symbol.
At the time, Sherlock had thought the design of four animals hadn't become distorted despite the envelope's limited space. Instead, each creature appeared remarkably lifelike, as if about to leap off the paper.
He had even used a magnifying glass to verify everything, suspecting it might be one of Mycroft's pranks.
He never imagined that magic truly existed in this world.
Three years had passed, and he had transformed from someone completely ignorant about magic into a wizard.
Or more accurately, he had always been a wizard but simply hadn't known it.
Now seeing this enlarged school crest again, he couldn't help momentarily losing himself in thought.
"Sherlock, what's wrong?"
Hermione noticed Sherlock's distracted expression and couldn't help nudging him.
Since Sherlock had flatly refused her request, Hermione had stopped pestering him relentlessly.
After four years together, she understood Sherlock too well.
If Sherlock hadn't made his final decision yet, anything could be negotiated.
But once Sherlock made up his mind, even nine oxen couldn't pull him back.
"Just remembering some things from the past," Sherlock said slowly, withdrawing his gaze.
"What memories?" Harry asked curiously.
"I was thinking about the first time I received my acceptance letter."
"Don't think about that!" Ron waved his hand dismissively. "Think about how to enter the Triwizard Tournament instead!"
Hearing Ron's words, the Weasley twins also gathered around.
"We asked Professor McGonagall how the champion gets selected, but she wouldn't tell us," George said resentfully.
"She just told us to shut our mouths and focus on transfiguring our raccoons," Fred shrugged.
"We just don't know what tasks the tournament will have," Ron said thoughtfully. "You know what, I bet we could handle them. Sherlock, we've done dangerous things before..."
"But you haven't done them in front of a panel of judges, have you?" Fred interjected.
George added, "McGonagall said the judges will score the champions based on how well they complete the tasks."
"Judges? Who are the judges?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"Oh, the headmasters of the participating schools are definitely on the panel of judges," Hermione suddenly interjected.
This statement made everyone turn to stare at her in surprise.
"Because in the tournament of seventeen ninety-two, a cockatrice that the champions were supposed to capture went out of control and rampaged around, injuring all three headmasters."
Noticing everyone staring at her, Hermione immediately adopted her impatient expression.
She had already been feeling irritated lately about the house-elf situation, and now seeing everyone apparently ignorant about this, she felt even more exasperated.
"It's all written in Hogwarts: A History. Has no one ever read it? Though of course, that book isn't entirely reliable. Perhaps A Revised History of Hogwarts would be more appropriate. Or maybe A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Where the School's Dark Aspects Are Concealed."
"What are you talking about?" Ron looked confused. What was all this about?
Hermione had always been the greatest advocate for that book, but now for some reason, she was making such comments.
Sherlock and Harry exchanged glances. Both understood what Hermione was about to say next.
Sure enough, Hermione's eyes blazed as she declared, "House-elves! In the more than one thousand pages of Hogwarts: A History, there's not a single mention that we're collectively oppressing a hundred slaves!"
Sherlock had already made his position crystal clear that he would not serve as president of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, so at this moment he remained noncommittal about Hermione's statement.
Harry likewise withdrew his gaze, shook his head, and looked down to serve himself some scrambled eggs.
Compared to Sherlock's straightforward refusal, Harry and Ron took a more moderate approach.
After all, they were all friends.
Even though Sherlock hadn't purchased a badge, the two of them had paid two Sickles each to buy S.P.E.W. badges.
Of course, they did this merely to get Hermione to be quiet.
They never expected their Sickles would be utterly wasted.
Because Hermione not only failed to quiet down but became even more enthusiastic.
From then on, she kept badgering Harry and Ron, first demanding they wear the badges.
After being refused, she then demanded they persuade others to do so.
Since they themselves refused to wear the badges, they certainly couldn't persuade others to do so.
At the same time, they envied Sherlock somewhat.
"We should have just refused her outright like Sherlock did from the start!" Ron had complained to Harry about this more than once.
Unfortunately, there was no turning back now. No matter how much they regretted it, it was too late.
Because during this time, Hermione had also developed an unfortunate habit of pestering people relentlessly every evening in the Gryffindor common room, chattering non-stop.
She would even shake her collection tin vigorously under people's noses.
"Do you realize that the magical creatures who change your sheets, light your fires, clean your classrooms, and cook your meals are unpaid, enslaved beings?"
"So what? What can we do about it?"
Some people, like Neville, reluctantly paid up.
Of course, they didn't truly support Hermione but just wanted her to stop glaring at them so fiercely.
A few others seemed slightly interested in what she was saying but weren't willing to actively participate in campaigning.
But more people treated it as a joke.
In her first year, Hermione had been bullied for a time because of her personality.
However, she later realized her problem and found another way to interact with her classmates, gradually earning their acceptance.
Precisely because of this, now that they were fourth years, everyone wasn't overly offended by her behavior.
But the attitude of "watching fun" was telling enough.
For instance, at this moment, as soon as Ron heard Hermione say this, he began rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.
Fred, who had originally come over because he heard the topic of the Triwizard Tournament, suddenly developed intense interest in his smoked bacon.
George looked around at the others' expressions and tried to persuade Hermione. "Listen, Hermione, have you ever been down to the kitchens?"
"No, of course not. I don't think students should go to such places," Hermione said bluntly. But after speaking, she seemed to remember something and added, "Though it would be fine if accompanied by a professor."
She was naturally referring to when Sherlock had gone to the kitchens with Dumbledore.
However, the Weasley twins didn't know about this, and even if they did, they wouldn't care.
Like Sherlock, both brothers insisted on not purchasing S.P.E.W. badges.
"Actually, we've been there," George said, pointing at Fred. "Many times, to steal some food. We've met them, and they're happy. They think they have the best job in the world..."
"That's because they haven't been educated and have been indoctrinated with wrong ideas!"
George shrugged. There was no continuing this conversation.
He didn't think humans needed to educate house-elves.
Thinking this, he looked at Sherlock, his gaze clearly conveying a "aren't you going to do something about this?" attitude.
Unfortunately, Sherlock paid no attention, as if he had absolutely no interest in the matter.
George withdrew his gaze somewhat regretfully and resumed discussing the Triwizard Tournament with Fred.
The others were the same. Compared to the tournament, house-elves truly weren't worth mentioning.
Throughout the entire day, the young wizards had no mind for lessons because everyone was thinking about tonight, when the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would arrive.
This also caused Professor Snape to fly into a rage during Potions class.
"Five points from Gryffindor!"
"Ten points from Gryffindor!"
"Twenty points from Gryffindor!"
If not for having to dismiss class half an hour early, he probably would have continued deducting points.
However, when the bell rang early, no matter how reluctant, Snape could only withdraw his gaze and announce dismissal in his sinister voice.
As Head of Slytherin House, he also had duties to attend to shortly.
As Harry said, he didn't have time to conduct poison testing on everyone.
Despite losing nearly fifty points in half a lesson, the fourth-year Gryffindors didn't care about this at all anymore.
Even Neville followed the main group, hurrying back to Gryffindor Tower, dropping off their bags and books as instructed, putting on their cloaks, then rushing down the stairs two at a time to reach the entrance hall.
When they finished preparing everything and arrived at the entrance hall, they found the heads of the four houses commanding their students to line up.
They quickly found Gryffindor's position, and Ron immediately received Professor McGonagall's stern look. "Weasley, straighten your hat, and you, Miss Patil, remove that ridiculous thing from your hair."
Parvati frowned unhappily and removed a large butterfly ornament from the end of her plait.
"Please follow me," Professor McGonagall said after ensuring the young lions had tidied their appearance. "First years in front... no pushing..."
The two prefects assisted Professor McGonagall in directing the entire house of young wizards down the steps, lining up in formation in front of the castle.
The weather was pleasant today. Though somewhat cold, the air was very fresh.
As night fell, a bright, translucent moon already hung above the Forbidden Forest.
Sherlock stood between Harry and Ron, with Hermione in front of him.
The young lions were both nervous and excited.
Especially the first years, who had just started school and encountered such a grand event, were trembling with excitement.
"It's almost six o'clock," Ron checked his watch, looked toward the driveway leading to the front entrance, and couldn't help turning to Sherlock. "Sherlock, how do you think they'll arrive? By train like we did?"
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