When Sherlock, Hermione, and Fleur emerged from the empty classroom, the light in the corridor had softened considerably.
The evening sun filtecamered through the stained glass windows, casting fragmented spots of light upon the floor.
Fleur's figure disappeared at the end of the corridor, still carrying an air of disorientation.
Hermione watched her retreating form, then turned to Sherlock and said, "I didn't expect you to actually tell her the answer to the golden egg."
Her tone was full of disbelief.
Sherlock's voice, however, was remarkably calm. "Even if I hadn't told her, she would have eventually solved the puzzle herself. I merely accelerated the process slightly."
"Why are you so certain?" Hermione hurried two steps to catch up with him, asking curiously.
Sherlock turned his head to look at her, his gray eyes devoid of emotion yet somehow convincing. "Dear Hermione, we shouldn't underestimate ourselves, but neither should we overestimate our superiority."
The corners of Hermione's mouth couldn't help but curve upward.
Coming from Sherlock, those words were rather amusing.
Apart from his brother Mycroft, she had never seen Sherlock truly respect anyone's intelligence.
With a soft sigh, Hermione continued, "But just now, she looked like a primary school student facing her teacher, even speaking with constraint."
Even now, Hermione found it somewhat incredible.
Because the Fleur Delacour she'd just witnessed had shown her another side of the French woman.
Especially after learning that Sherlock had solved the golden egg's secret more than a month ago, she had lavished him with compliments.
Words like "magnificent," "superior methods," and "powerful action" flowed from her mouth like water, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
In that moment, Hermione truly felt that the French possessed not only indelible arrogance in their bones, but also undisguised romance and passion.
"One can only say she overvalued the help I gave her. As I just said, she herself possesses considerable talent. The Goblet of Fire selected her as Beauxbatons' champion, which proves she already has the necessary qualities. Even if I hadn't spoken today, she would have found the answer—she merely lacked some knowledge and luck."
"All right, then what about Durmstrang? Aren't you going to tell Krum the golden egg's secret as well?"
"Why would I do that?"
"I thought you would, for the sake of fairness..."
"Dear Hermione, fairness is relative; unfairness is absolute."
Sherlock suddenly gave a light laugh, stopping by a window and gazing at the Forbidden Forest outside as he said quietly, "Miss Delacour came to me and sincerely asked for my help. She even told me about Mycroft and her family's matters, so I was naturally happy to assist."
"It sounds like you're saying that if someone from Durmstrang came to you sincerely asking for help, you would help them too?"
"If they were truly at their wit's end, I would of course be happy to help."
"Well, aren't you quite the saint."
A crisp voice suddenly came from the end of the corridor, interrupting their conversation.
Hermione and Sherlock turned simultaneously to see Gemma standing there gracefully.
Today she wore a light purple dress, its hem swaying gently with her movements, looking quite elegant, her presence was no less striking than Fleur's.
Her hands were clasped behind her back, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her mouth, her eyes bright as she looked at them.
"Gemma?"
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as she stepped forward. "What brings you here?"
"What, am I not welcome?" Gemma tilted her head, her chestnut hair sliding across her shoulder with a touch of playfulness.
"Of course not!" Hermione said anxiously, waving her hands as her cheeks instantly flushed. "I mean... you've been so busy before, haven't you? With the dragons and all, I thought you wouldn't have time to come... Oh, that's not what I meant!"
Watching Hermione's flustered and incoherent appearance, Gemma couldn't help but reach out and tap her nose, saying with a laugh, "I'm just teasing you! Look how worked up you are."
Only then did Hermione relax, patting her chest as her long lashes lowered, as if a great weight had been lifted.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, somewhat puzzled.
When had Gemma and Hermione's relationship become so close?
However, he had never been good at nor inclined to meddle in matters between girls, so he quickly dismissed the thought.
"You're right, I did finally have some free time today." Gemma's expression turned serious, her tone light. "Those three dragons have finally been sent back to Romania. The next two tasks shouldn't require them."
"They definitely won't need them," Sherlock said with certainty.
"Perhaps." Gemma blinked, then changed the subject, her tone becoming gossipy. "But that's not important. I heard the Beauxbatons Rose invited away our Lion King, so I came especially to take a look."
"Beauxbatons Rose?" Hermione was momentarily confused, then realized, "You mean Fleur Delacour?"
"Yes, didn't you know?" Gemma laughed lightly, speaking in a rather teasing voice. "Recently, the news about Hogwarts champion Cedric Diggory and Durmstrang champion Viktor Krum competing for this French rose has been spreading like wildfire throughout the school. At such a critical juncture, Miss Delacour privately arranging to talk with you, a Hogwarts champion, would naturally attract attention."
"Tedious speculation." Sherlock commented dismissively, his tone full of disdain, as if discussing something utterly trivial.
"Of course it would seem tedious to Sherlock Holmes." Gemma said with a smile, understanding in her eyes. "But this is exactly what students at this age care most about!"
Since graduating, she had come to appreciate even more how Sherlock's maturity set him apart from his peers, and felt even more grateful for the choice she had made back then.
"However, I just overheard your conversation with Hermione—it seems you're planning to share the golden egg's secret with Durmstrang as well?"
Gemma looked at Sherlock, her tone was curious.
"Only if they come wholeheartedly to ask Sherlock for help!" Hermione quickly interjected.
"That won't be necessary, because they've already solved the puzzle." Hearing Hermione's words, Gemma's smile deepened, a cunning light flashing in her eyes.
"How do you know?" Hermione asked in surprise, leaning forward, her curiosity suddenly piqued.
Gemma blinked. "The Durmstrang people said so."
"You know people from Durmstrang?" Hermione was even more surprised.
Just then, Sherlock suddenly spoke. "So Durmstrang is indeed in Sweden."
The surprise on Hermione's face hadn't yet faded before it was replaced by even greater astonishment.
Sherlock's topic had shifted too quickly—what was the connection between these two things?
She looked at Sherlock questioningly, waiting for him to explain.
Gemma smiled gracefully. "That's right, though Professor Karkaroff has been trying to keep it secret. You mustn't tell anyone."
"We're not Hagrid. We won't tell." Sherlock's single sentence made both young women laugh simultaneously.
Hagrid's reputation was indeed widespread.
After the laughter subsided, Hermione couldn't help but ask, "Sherlock, how did you figure it out?"
"Mr. Farley once hoped that after Gemma graduated, she would go to Sweden to engage with the magical mineral trade there, which indicates the Farley family has some influence in Sweden's mineral market."
"Correct."
"Mycroft once told me that Durmstrang is located in northern Scandinavia—northern Sweden or Norway. Now that Gemma has learned this information from Durmstrang, the answer is quite obvious."
"I knew it would be like this," Hermione sighed helplessly. "Every time you explain the answer, it always gives the impression that it was so simple."
"But before that, you always find it rather magical," Gemma interjected, her tone teasing as she patted Hermione's shoulder affectionately.
"Yes, every time it's like this." Hermione sighed again, then laughed along with Gemma.
"But they're going to lose anyway." Hermione said confidently. "We solved the golden egg's secret early on. Cedric has figured out how to survive underwater. Sherlock even has a contingency plan... I can't think of anything that could possibly stop us!"
Hearing Hermione's confident declaration of victory, Sherlock and Gemma exchanged a smile.
Many people have a certain feeling.
When you detest something, time seems to pass very slowly.
Like classes, like work—you feel like asking why it won't end already.
But when you're focused on doing something, time passes very quickly.
So fast it's as if someone has cast a spell on the clock, making it spin at lightning speed.
Only one week until February twenty-fourth... only five days left... just three days...
During this week, both Harry and Cedric had successfully mastered the use of diving equipment.
In these circumstances, even someone without magic who had a basic ability to swim could stay underwater in the Black Lake for an hour.
The contingency plan Sherlock had originally prepared actually became an even more reliable solution than the original plan.
As for the method Cedric had mentioned at the beginning, he finally managed to produce it successfully.
Just as Sherlock had previously deduced.
A spell.
The Bubble-Head Charm.
This was an advanced spell, not part of the regular Charms curriculum, leaning more toward extracurricular knowledge.
Its effect was to create a transparent large bubble around a person's head, like an upturned fishbowl, allowing normal breathing underwater or in foul air.
The surface of the bubble had a faint sheen, neither obstructing vision nor blocking water flow.
"Very impressive!" When Cedric cast the Bubble-Head Charm on Harry, Harry reached up to touch the bubble above his head and said in surprise.
He tried taking a breath—the air was fresh and flowed smoothly, without any of the suffocating feeling of being underwater.
When speaking, his voice could be clearly transmitted without any obstruction.
"It's enough for us to last an hour underwater!" Cedric said excitedly, his eyes full of enthusiasm, his hands involuntarily clenching into fists. "Even if time runs out, with the diving equipment Sherlock prepared, there won't be any problems!"
Without any worries, both Sherlock and Harry learned the Bubble-Head Charm exceptionally quickly.
Whether Sherlock or Harry, both had extremely high aptitude for charms.
Although the Bubble-Head Charm could be considered an advanced spell, compared to the Patronus Charm, it paled in comparison.
So by the evening before the second task, both of them could already perform the spell proficiently.
Their movements were fluid, and they controlled the size of the bubble just right.
"Well, I have nothing more to teach you!" In the Room of Requirement, watching Sherlock and Harry put fishbowls on each other's heads, Cedric couldn't help but burst into laughter.
He really had no reason not to be happy—the combination of magic and Muggle equipment was simply an unbeatable situation!
"Whatever awaits us at the bottom of the Black Lake won't be a problem!" Cedric clapped Sherlock on the shoulder, the confidence in his voice practically overflowing. "Sherlock, thanks to you solving the golden egg's puzzle so early, I had ample time to find this spell and prepare the contingency plan with you both."
Sherlock smiled slightly without speaking.
At this moment, he was also looking forward to it—what surprise would the organizers have prepared for him? After all, even he didn't know what his most precious thing was.
The three emerged from the Room of Requirement and walked down the spiral staircase.
The portraits on the stairs poked their heads out, curiously watching them, some quietly discussing tomorrow's competition.
Just as they were about to part ways on the first floor and return to their respective dormitories, a familiar voice suddenly called out:
"Thank goodness, we finally found you!"
Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom walked quickly toward them side by side.
Seeing both of them looking anxious, Harry asked in surprise, "What are you doing here? Looking for Sherlock and me?"
"Actually... we... we're looking for Diggory..." Neville stammered, his voice trembling slightly, though it was unclear why he was so nervous.
"For me?" Cedric pointed at himself in surprise, his brow furrowing slightly, clearly not expecting this result. "What's the matter?"
"That's right." Hannah stepped forward, her tone more composed than Neville's. "It's not us looking for you—it's Professor Sprout."
Neville added at this point, his voice still trembling, "Hannah couldn't find Diggory, so she came to ask me where Sherlock and Harry were. I asked Ron, and he said you were practicing, so I brought her here."
"What does Professor Sprout want with me?"
"I don't know, but she seemed rather serious," Hannah said, looking at her house's prefect with some concern. "She asked me to bring you to her office right away."
Hearing Hannah say this, Sherlock's gaze became sharp.
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