"You don't mind, do you, Dumbledore?"
Professor Karkaroff happily patted a student on the shoulder and said to Sherlock, "I'm very sorry, Viktor has caught a bit of a cold..."
At that moment, the vast majority of Hogwarts students began whispering among themselves.
Because the boy had a prominent aquiline nose and two thick, dark eyebrows, it was none other than Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker who had recently shone brilliantly at the Quidditch World Cup.
Ron was already stunned.
Just as Sherlock had predicted, he never expected to encounter Krum in a place like this.
"Harry—it's Krum, it really is Krum!"
"I can see that, Ron, stop elbowing me."
Harry was somewhat helpless, as Ron was vigorously poking his arm.
Since the Durmstrang delegation had arrived, the Hogwarts teachers and students naturally had no need to remain outside any longer. At this moment, they were following behind the Durmstrang group, queuing up to climb the stone steps.
Hearing Harry say this, Ron finally stopped elbowing Harry, but still spoke in a greatly shocked tone, "I can't believe it! It's Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"
Watching Ron in this state, Harry couldn't help feeling somewhat helpless and involuntarily looked toward Sherlock and Hermione.
Sherlock said nothing, while Hermione frowned. "For heaven's sake, Ronald, he's just a Quidditch player."
"'Just' a Quidditch player?"
Ron stared straight at Hermione, as if he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione—he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I really didn't expect he'd still be a student!"
"He does look rather mature for his age," Sherlock said.
However, compared to others' reactions, Ron was already quite restrained.
Because when they passed through the entrance hall again and headed toward the Great Hall, Lee Jordan was standing on tiptoe, jumping up and down, trying to get a better view of Krum's back.
Several sixth-year girls were walking while frantically rummaging through their pockets as if possessed.
"Oh, I can't believe I don't have a single quill on me."
"Do you think he'd sign my hat with lipstick?"
"What, you have lipstick? Give it to me quickly!"
"Wait, that's mine!"
As they passed by these girls arguing over a lipstick, Hermione wrinkled her nose and couldn't help commenting, "This is ridiculous!"
Sherlock smiled. "It's understandable."
"What did you say?" Hermione looked at Sherlock in surprise, as if she couldn't believe what she'd heard.
"The magical world has celebrity fans too, it's quite normal," Sherlock's gaze swept over those girls. "Essentially, their worship of Viktor Krum is the same as their worship of Gilderoy Lockhart."
Hearing Sherlock mention Lockhart, Hermione couldn't help blushing slightly.
Undoubtedly, this matter could already be considered part of her dark history.
She looked past Sherlock toward Harry and Ron, only to see Ron asking Harry for a pen. "If possible, I want to get his autographed photo. Don't you have a quill?"
"No, they're all upstairs in my bag."
Although Harry also thought Krum was an excellent, even one of the world's best Seekers, his reaction was obviously much calmer than Ron's.
At this moment, the four of them had also reached the Gryffindor table and sat down.
Ron deliberately sat on the side facing the doorway because the Durmstrang students were still gathered at the entrance, seemingly uncertain where they should sit.
In contrast, the Beauxbatons students who had entered earlier had already chosen to sit at the Ravenclaw table.
This was probably because Ravenclaw had the most female students of any house, and among the Beauxbatons students who came here, there were far fewer boys than girls.
However, after sitting down, they looked around the hall with disgruntled expressions on their faces.
Three of them even had their heads tightly wrapped in scarves and headscarves.
"It's not that cold," Hermione said disapprovingly upon seeing this. "So why aren't they wearing cloaks?"
She just didn't like them.
For some reason, Hermione, a native-born Briton, simply looked down on these students from France.
"Over here! Come sit over here!"
Just then, Ron said in a hoarse voice, "Here! Harry, move over a bit and make room—"
"What?" Harry looked at Ron in confusion, completely unable to understand what his good friend was doing.
Ron said with a regretful expression, "Oh well, too late!"
It turned out that Viktor Krum and his Durmstrang schoolmates had already taken seats at the Slytherin table.
All the Slytherin students were consequently very proud of themselves.
Draco Malfoy was leaning toward Krum, talking to him.
"Ha, that's right, Malfoy is sucking up to him," Ron said sharply. "I bet Krum saw right through what kind of person he is!"
Sherlock shook his head. "Malfoy is just mentioning that he saw Krum's match at the Quidditch World Cup. And Krum won't see right through what kind of person he is."
Sherlock couldn't help feeling somewhat sentimental.
With Gemma Farley having graduated, Slytherin House truly didn't have many students worth mentioning anymore.
If Gemma were still here, at this moment Slytherin wouldn't be so excited merely because students from other schools mainly Krum, of course were sitting beside their house.
Then Ron proceeded to demonstrate quite well. "I bet wherever Krum goes, people are flattering him, fawning over him... Where do you think they'll sleep? We could offer him a bed in our dormitory, Harry... I'd be willing to let him have my bed and sleep on a camp bed myself."
Harry: "..."
Ron had gone mad!
Hermione snorted disdainfully.
However, the reactions of his two friends didn't change Ron's attitude. He remained enthusiastically watching the Durmstrang students, mainly Krum, of course.
Harry shook his head somewhat helplessly, trying to pull Ron's attention away from Krum. "They look much happier than the Beauxbatons lot."
"Hmm?"
Ron answered vaguely, still staring longingly at Krum.
Harry felt somewhat helpless and shrugged at Sherlock and Hermione.
Sherlock smiled and didn't mind his friend's loss of composure.
He had concluded long ago that both Harry and Hermione were much more mature than Ron.
In fact, Ron's current behavior was more typical of an adolescent boy.
As for Sherlock himself—sorry, he didn't even count as a normal person.
Just as Harry had said, the Durmstrang students were much happier than the disgruntled Beauxbatons students.
They removed their heavy fur cloaks and looked up with interest at the star-studded ceiling. Several students picked up the golden plates and goblets, examining them carefully, obviously very interested.
Over at the staff table, caretaker Filch was adding several chairs.
For today's grand occasion, he had put on his moldy old tailcoat.
Harry was surprised to see him adding four chairs, two on each side of Dumbledore.
"But there are only two extra people," Harry looked at Sherlock. "Why is Filch bringing out four chairs? Who else is coming?"
"People from the Ministry of Magic. If it were before, it would definitely be Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman," Sherlock directly gave the answer. "But now, Barty Crouch can't come. It might possibly be Cornelius Fudge."
I see!
Harry suddenly understood.
After all the students entered the Great Hall and sat down at their respective house tables, the staff entered.
They walked one after another to the head table and sat down.
Walking at the very end were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime.
The Durmstrang students didn't have any particular reaction.
But the Beauxbatons students quickly stood up when they saw their headmistress appear.
Several Hogwarts students couldn't help laughing when they saw this scene.
But the Beauxbatons students didn't seem embarrassed at all.
They only sat down again after Madame Maxime was seated on Dumbledore's left.
Dumbledore remained standing, waiting until the Great Hall gradually quieted down.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and—especially our distinguished guests," Dumbledore said, smiling at the foreign students. "It is with great joy that I welcome you to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that you will feel comfortable and content here."
As soon as he finished speaking, one of the Beauxbatons girls who still had her head tightly wrapped in a scarf gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.
Hermione, who already had no fondness for the French, was immediately annoyed by that girl and said quietly, "No one's forcing you to stay!"
"The Tournament will officially begin at the end of the feast. I now invite everyone to eat and drink as much as they would at home!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the plates in front of everyone were immediately piled high with food.
Today's dishes were extraordinarily sumptuous, and there were even several foreign-style dishes.
Harry couldn't help sneaking a glance at Hermione, thinking to himself that this time the house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have given their all.
"What's that?"
Ron pointed to a large dish next to the steak and kidney pudding that looked like a seafood medley.
"Bouillabaisse," Sherlock said calmly. "And these other dishes here are all French cuisine."
Hermione nodded too. "I had it during summer vacation two years ago. It tastes very delicious."
"The best food in British cuisine has always been French—but in the future, it will be Japanese, Chinese, Indian food."
Hearing Sherlock say this, Harry couldn't help looking toward Ravenclaw, and happened to see Cho Chang talking quietly with a Beauxbatons girl.
Just as Sherlock and Hermione had said, French cuisine indeed tasted more delicious than British food.
After trying it, Ron immediately began eating heartily without hesitation.
"He's finally stopped focusing on Krum," Harry said quietly to Sherlock and Hermione.
Indeed, only food could distract him.
Twenty minutes after the feast began, Hagrid slipped into the Great Hall through a door behind the staff table.
He sat down at his seat at the end of the table and waved toward Sherlock's direction with a hand wrapped in many bandages.
"How are the Blast-Ended Skrewts doing, Hagrid?" Harry called out loudly.
"Growing wonderfully," Hagrid replied happily to Harry's teasing.
"Yeah, I'm sure they are," Harry said.
Ron, hearing the conversation between Harry and Hagrid, muttered quietly to the three, "Yeah, I guess they've finally found something they like to eat—Hagrid's fingers."
Just as Ron was complaining, a voice suddenly said, "Excuse me, are you finished with that bouillabaisse?"
It was the Beauxbatons girl who had laughed when Dumbledore was speaking.
She had finally removed her scarf.
She had long, shining, silvery-blonde hair that fell like a waterfall to her waist with curled ends.
She had large, deep blue eyes and a set of white teeth.
Upon seeing her appearance, Ron's face suddenly flushed as red as his hair.
He stared at her stupidly, opening his mouth to answer.
But for some reason, he only made some strange small sounds, as if his throat were blocked.
Compared to Ron, Harry's reaction was much better. He pushed the plate toward the girl. "All right, you can take it."
"Are you finished with it?"
The girl asked somewhat uncertainly.
"Finished," Ron said, almost breathless, but finally managing to say, "Finished, it was absolutely delicious."
The girl nodded, her gaze routinely sweeping over Hermione and Sherlock.
After a brief moment of eye contact with Sherlock, she calmly looked away and carefully carried the plate toward the Ravenclaw table.
Throughout this process, Ron continued staring wide-eyed at the girl, as if he'd never seen a girl before.
Harry really couldn't help it and finally laughed out loud.
His laughter suddenly woke Ron up.
"She's a Veela!" Ron said hoarsely and with conviction to Sherlock and Harry. "She must be a Veela!"
"Definitely not!"
Hermione said bluntly. "I didn't see anyone else staring at her like an idiot!"
This was blatant denial of the obvious.
When the girl who had removed her scarf and revealed her true appearance walked through the Great Hall, many boys turned their heads to watch her.
Several seemed momentarily unable to speak, behaving exactly like Ron had just been.
"I'm telling you, that girl is really something special!" Ron said, leaning sideways so he could still see her clearly. "Hogwarts has no one like that!"
"Hogwarts has plenty of nice girls," Harry said without thinking.
He admitted this girl was beautiful, but Cho Chang happened to be sitting just a few seats away from that silver-haired girl.
Sherlock looked thoughtfully at the silver-haired girl's retreating back. "She's not a Veela. She probably only has Veela blood, otherwise it wouldn't just be this kind of effect. And also..."
He paused, his tone taking on a note of certainty. "She knows me."
"What?!"
Harry, who had been staring at Cho Chang, Ron, who had been staring at Fleur, and the disgruntled Hermione all turned their heads at the same time, looking at Sherlock in surprise.
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