"Sherlock, how—how did you know?" When they heard Sherlock mention that Madame Maxime had come to see Hagrid, both Harry and Hagrid showed expressions of surprise.
Harry was relatively better off. After all, given Sherlock's various amazing demonstrations, he was basically in a state of "unexpected yet reasonable." That is to say, he was surprised, but thinking that it was Sherlock, it seemed natural again.
But Hagrid was different. He hadn't spent as much time with Sherlock as Harry had, nor did he understand Sherlock as thoroughly. So he was completely dumbfounded. "Sherlock, how—how did you know?"
Hagrid asked stammering, his thick fingers were unconsciously wringing the hem of his clothes, his eyes were shifty. Madame Maxime had indeed come to see him—just last night, in fact. But he hadn't told anyone! And he was quite certain he hadn't shown any sign of it.
So how had Sherlock figured it out? He'd even told Sherlock and Harry some time ago that he wanted to let Madame Maxime see his "big bones." Even if Madame Maxime came to apologize to him, he absolutely wouldn't forgive her!
Yet when Madame Maxime actually came to find him, he'd still met with her.
Thinking about it afterward, he'd been so spineless!
The corners of Sherlock's mouth curved upward slightly. "Hagrid, your surprise itself has already verified my deduction. But that's just verifying evidence. I'll try to explain using simpler methods."
Hagrid nodded repeatedly. If it got complicated, he wouldn't understand anyway!
Sherlock's gaze swept over Hagrid's entire person. He was no longer trying to make his hair neat, but it had become a tangled mess instead.
"First, your cuff has traces of the lavender ash unique to the Beauxbatons carriage. Others might not notice, but I know this ash is only used in Madame Maxime's carriage. Also, the heel of your left dragonhide boot has fresh mud stains in a fan-shaped pattern.
Clearly, this was left when you paced along the Black Lake shore last night. Combining these two points actually proves that you hastily kept an appointment last night, and the person was connected to Beauxbatons. Obviously, Madame Maxime's sudden visit left you flustered, unable to even attend to basic grooming."
Hagrid's face instantly flushed red, his fingers were nervously twisting his beard. Harry had a sudden realization. "No wonder you were distracted during class today!"
"Secondly, it's because of Fleur Delacour. She's very clear about what role my observation and deduction abilities will play in the Triwizard Tournament. She knows well that with me participating at Hogwarts, the golden egg puzzle won't be delayed too long.
So, when Beauxbatons still hasn't solved the golden egg's secret, she's bound to tell Madame Maxime about this. For Madame Maxime, she's very clear that the competition between champions is just surface appearance—the real victory lies precisely in the intelligence war.
Since I'm leading the puzzle-solving at Hogwarts, she can only obtain clues through the most accessible channel: you, Hagrid."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Hagrid's face grew even redder.
Last night, Madame Maxime had started by apologizing to him, then took advantage of his soft-heartedness to extract quite a bit of intelligence. Hagrid didn't understand why he'd unknowingly revealed so much important information. He'd clearly planned to keep it secret beforehand!
"Sherlock, I—I didn't say anything, I just..."
"You just told her that I had a very high probability of already solving the golden egg's secret," Sherlock said quietly. "That's all you knew."
Hagrid fell silent, completely exposed by Sherlock. He felt utterly mortified. He took a deep breath, then forcefully changed the subject. "Ah, since you're so confident, that's wonderful!"
This time, he again extended both hands to clap them on Sherlock and Harry's shoulders, making them sink two inches into the soft earth.
For the remainder of the time, Sherlock and Harry could only pretend to be very interested in the baby unicorns and go forward with their classmates to pet the two foals.
Even the supremely intelligent Sherlock, faced with this kind of giant who used force to overcome cleverness, felt somewhat powerless. Actually, he hadn't meant to blame Hagrid at all. But Hagrid himself felt guilty. And feeling guilty was one thing, but his way of changing the subject was just so crude.
Whether it was Sherlock or Harry, both worried that if they continued discussing this topic, everything below their knees would sink into the ground. That would be truly terrifying.
After the Care of Magical Creatures class ended, Ron asked curiously, "What did Hagrid talk to you about earlier? He looked quite happy."
"He was happy," Harry said with a grave expression. "He also taught us some principles about knowing our place in the world."
Ron was utterly confused. Mate, do you know what you're saying?
On the other hand, Hermione, hearing Harry's words, guessed something. She turned to Sherlock and said, "Was he asking you about the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Exactly," Sherlock said quietly. "Just as Harry said, he also taught us about knowing our place in the world."
Hermione suppressed her laughter and continued asking, "Didn't you listen to Hagrid's suggestions? Maybe Hagrid sometimes has to dive underwater to deal with the creatures in the lake? Because everything else at the venue is under his care—"
"Forget it. If we asked about that, Madame Maxime would know the golden egg's secret by tomorrow, and then the Beauxbatons champions would too. No, maybe not just Beauxbatons—even Durmstrang would know!" Harry's tone carried a trace of resentment, but he spoke with certainty.
"Pfft!" Hermione finally couldn't hold back and laughed out loud.
Ron also understood, asking in surprise, "Hagrid and Madame Maxime made up again? Didn't you say they'd completely fallen out?"
"Please, with Hagrid's personality, how could he possibly completely break off with her?" Harry said somewhat helplessly. "Last night when Madame Maxime came to find Hagrid, he told her everything he knew! Good thing we hadn't told him the golden egg's secret."
"That was truly a wise move," Ron said with deep agreement.
Ever since the Philosopher's Stone incident in first year, the four of them had already reached a consensus—never tell Hagrid anything important.
Just as Dumbledore had said, you could entrust your life to him. His loyalty and courage were beyond question. But you absolutely couldn't tell him any secrets.
As Sherlock had said, he was like someone who grew up drinking Veritaserum.
"By the way, Sherlock, about what Watson and Hedwig delivered in the Great Hall this morning, should we go back now and take a look?" Hearing Ron bring this up; Hermione couldn't help raising an eyebrow. "I remember you have Divination class next, don't you?"
"Hey, missing that class once in a while doesn't matter!" Ron said casually. "Last time Harry skipped before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, didn't Professor Trelawney say nothing?"
"Suit yourselves." Hermione had always disapproved of skipping class. Even if it was Professor Trelawney. She believed you should either give up the course entirely, but once you'd decided to take it, you shouldn't skip.
But Harry and Ron obviously didn't think that way. As for Sherlock, aside from those few required courses, all the elective courses were ones he could attend or not. Seeing his two companions so enthusiastic, he went along with them and led them back to the dormitory.
Hermione naturally came along too, she didn't have Divination class anyway, so this time was free for her.
"Speaking of which, why can girls enter the boys' dormitory, but when boys go to the girls' dormitory they get blocked?" Seeing Hermione follow them smoothly into the boys' dormitory, Ron habitually grumbled again. "This is really unfair."
"I also think it's unfair, but you'd have to take that up with the school's founders."
"Why?"
"Hogwarts: A History makes it very clear that this rule was set by the founders. The reason was that they considered it 'a very dangerous thing' for boys to enter the girls' dormitory at will, which is why they set up such obstacles."
"What meddling busybodies," Ron said irritably.
Hearing this, Harry couldn't help asking curiously, "Ron, are you planning to go to the girls' dormitory?"
Ron immediately coughed twice. "Nothing of the sort. I was just speaking casually."
"This isn't necessarily absolute," Sherlock interjected. "I've been to the Ravenclaw girls' dormitory."
"That was because you got special permission from Professor Flitwick to investigate a case," Ron still looked unconvinced. "You can't go now either."
As they spoke, the four had already entered the dormitory. The dormitory was empty at the moment, neither Neville nor Dean were there.
Harry carefully closed the door, while Ron eagerly rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining as he looked at the package on the bedside. "Open it quickly, Sherlock! What's inside? I've been itching with curiosity since we were in the Great Hall."
Harry stood to the side with his arms crossed. Though he said nothing, his curious gaze was also fixed intently on the package. Sherlock had only told him he needed to borrow Hedwig but hadn't said specifically for what.
Hermione sat on the edge of Sherlock's bed, equally expectant.
Sherlock drew his wand and lightly tapped the complex knots on the package. The knots automatically loosened. Then he moved quickly to unwrap the outer thick oilcloth and shock-absorbing padding, revealing three oddly-shaped devices with metal cylinders and masks inside.
"This is...?" Ron leaned closer, carefully poking one of the cold metal canisters.
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, both showing expressions of disbelief.
"Sherlock, is this...?"
"As you've guessed—scuba gear." Sherlock answered concisely, picking up one to inspect it carefully, confirming that transportation hadn't caused any damage.
"Scuba gear? You all recognize this thing?" Hearing this, Ron grew even more curious. His gaze swept back and forth between Sherlock, Harry, and Hermione, full of suspicion, as if the three had some secret they were keeping from him.
"This is diving equipment invented by Muggles—people can use it to breathe underwater and move freely for quite a long time," Harry immediately explained.
Hermione's eyes sparkled as she provided a more technically detailed explanation. "That's right, scuba—it's actually Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus. People can dive underwater and breathe freely with it."
"Scuba gear? This thing can actually let people survive underwater?" Ron picked up another in amazement, feeling its considerable weight. "Goodness, Muggle inventions are truly amazing!"
"So, I've long suggested you should take Muggle Studies. Like Mr. Weasley, you're clearly very interested in everything about Muggles."
"You're right, but that's meaningless—you should have told me before I selected my courses. Now I don't want to add another course. Two courses are quite enough."
"Sherlock, you're planning to use scuba gear to solve the second task? But didn't Cedric say he had a way to solve the problem of surviving underwater for an hour? And he sounded very confident."
"My dear Harry, Cedric's ability is beyond question." Sherlock put the scuba gear back in the package, saying calmly, "Since he promised he could develop a method for moving freely underwater, I believe he'll definitely succeed—his execution ability and research spirit were already proven in the first task."
"Then why are we preparing this?" Ron asked, puzzled. He felt it was somewhat unnecessary. "Could it be... you actually don't trust him?"
"No, this has nothing to do with trust." Sherlock's gaze became deep and sharp, a kind of caution that came from his very bones. "Though Cedric hasn't told us his method, I deduce he's most likely going to use some kind of advanced spell. I believe he can make us survive in the water for an hour. But surviving doesn't equal being able to act without concern for a full hour."
He paused, his fingers unconsciously tapping the metal cylinder, producing faint sounds.
"Sherlock, you mean...?"
"The second task absolutely isn't just about making us quietly wait out the time underwater." Sherlock said with certainty. "Remember the merpeople's song? They'll take away our most precious things, and then we have to bring them back to shore within an hour."
He continued,
"Moreover, based on experience from the first task, the organizers will most likely design elements of searching and confrontation during the rescue process. This means we'll need to move vigorously at the bottom of the lake!
Intense swimming, possible confrontations, even combat—all of these will significantly drain our stamina and magical power. This way, that one-hour stable environment maintained by Cedric's magic, under such high-intensity consumption, its duration might very likely be shortened."
The air in the dormitory seemed to freeze.
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