Upon hearing Sherlock's words, Hagrid imdiately stopped crying. Although he didn't understand the connection between his continued crying and Harry's inability to leave the hospital soon, since Sherlock said so, there must be a reason.
So not only did he stop crying, but he also said to Sherlock: "Sherlock, could you co to my hut with ? About the dragon egg matter, I'd like to ask for your advice..."
"What? Dragon egg? I want to co too!" Ron imdiately beca excited upon hearing this topic.
"Sorry—" Hagrid looked at Ron sowhat apologetically: "That... Dumbledore said this matter can't be known by others."
"What?!" Ron was stunned upon hearing this. How could this be?
"Can't I just listen without telling anyone?"
"Ron, don't make things difficult for Hagrid," Hermione, who wasn't interested in this anyway, advised. "Don't forget, the dragon egg matter also involves Quirrell and Voldemort."
Upon hearing that na, both Hagrid and Ron shuddered simultaneously. Ron looked at Hermione with resentnt.
Hagrid couldn't help but say, "Don't... don't say that na!"
"Sorry—" Hermione said apologetically, though her face showed no regret. "I an—since Dumbledore has already said so, naturally the fewer people who know about this, the better."
Although Ron was unhappy, he had to admit Hermione's words made sense. In the end, only Sherlock followed Hagrid to his hut.
"Thank you, Sherlock." Hagrid first found a large towel and washed his face, then poured Sherlock a cup of strong tea before telling him about the dragon egg's whereabouts.
Before the dragon egg could hatch, Dumbledore had given it to soone else. According to Dumbledore, this was possibly the most suitable person in the world to care for it.
"Who?" Seeing that Hagrid didn't refute this claim, Sherlock beca interested.
"Newt Scamander." Hagrid paused, about to explain further, when he heard Sherlock say:
"Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, renowned British magizoologist, traveler, travel writer, famous figure in the wizarding world, and author of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.'"
For Sherlock, this was useful knowledge. After all, "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" was on their pre-school book list, and he had used content from it when facing the troll.
So, after Hagrid ntioned this na, Sherlock searched his mory palace for three seconds and quickly found the answer.
"Hey, well said, Sherlock! I didn't expect you to know so much." Hagrid slapped the table excitedly. "You know, when you reach third year, if you take Care of Magical Creatures as an elective, you'll use his book as a textbook. Speaking of which, Professor Kettleburn used to be quite reckless, but now he's much more stable. Though I think it might be because he only has one arm and half a leg left..."
Hagrid began talking enthusiastically about magical creatures. It was clear he truly loved them. He could readily discuss the habits of various magical creatures, speaking with animated excitent.
Sherlock just quietly watched him show off. When Hagrid finally grew thirsty and reached for his tea, Sherlock spoke:
"Now, can you tell the real reason you asked here?"
"Pffft—!" Hagrid imdiately spat out his mouthful of tea. He looked at Sherlock in shock. "How did you know—"
"Hagrid, from the mont you said those words at the hospital wing entrance, I knew you weren't asking here just about the dragon egg. As for the reason," Sherlock sighed sowhat helplessly, "your thoughts are written all over your face. If it weren't for Voldemort and the Philosopher's Stone, even Hermione—oh, even Ron could see it."
"Is it really that obvious?" Hagrid still looked incredulous.
This ti Sherlock couldn't be bothered to answer.
"Alright, alright—" Seeing Sherlock's expression, Hagrid took a deep breath. "Actually, I asked you here because I have a friend."
Upon hearing this opening, Sherlock's expression beca strange. But thinking about it, Hagrid wasn't Ron—with his personality, he wouldn't make up imaginary friends.
Indeed, Hagrid continued: "Sherlock, do you rember the Greek fellow who sold Fluffy?"
"Baskerville?" Again, it took only three seconds for Sherlock to retrieve the needed information from his mory palace.
"You rember him—that's wonderful! He found recently. I wanted to ask Dumbledore, but with everything that's happened, I really don't want to trouble him, so I imdiately thought of you. Haven't you done quite well on Halloween, Christmas, and Easter?"
"Thank you for the complint, Hagrid," Sherlock said, placing his hands together under his chin. "So—what trouble has your friend encountered?"
"Oh—I think it's better if he tells you himself."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow: "He's also at Hogwarts?"
"Not exactly. You know, with Dumbledore here, Hogwarts doesn't easily allow outsiders in..."
Sherlock chuckled. Hagrid's face imdiately reddened.
"Anyway, I think we can find him in Hogsade—if you agree, we can go there now."
Hogsade, short for Hogsade Village, was the only all-wizarding settlent in Britain. Though small in area, it was complete in every way and scenically beautiful.
According to regulations, Hogwarts students third year and above could visit on weekends with parental or guardian permission. So students below third year generally didn't know about this village.
However, since Hagrid had ntioned it during their previous conversation, Sherlock had researched it after returning, gaining so understanding of the place.
Hearing Hagrid's suggestion, Sherlock stood up without hesitation. "Let's go then!"
As for being third year and above, guardian permission, weekends—he didn't care about these restrictions at all. Even without this matter, if he really wanted to visit Hogsade, it wouldn't be difficult.
It was just that he hadn't even fully explored Hogwarts, so Hogsade seed unnecessary. But now with new circumstances, that was different.
As for Hagrid, he didn't realize there was anything improper about taking Sherlock there.
When they decided to act, they acted. Although Hagrid couldn't keep secrets, he had his advantages—he was quick and decisive, with strong execution skills. Exactly the type Sherlock needed.
The Hogwarts Express station was located near Hogsade, so the distance between them wasn't far. With Hagrid leading the way, they soon arrived.
The village wasn't large, with many shops and pubs lining the streets. Hagrid didn't waste ti, greeting people on both sides of the street while leading Sherlock straight to the Three Broomsticks—the very place where he had acquired Fluffy.
At the bar was a shapely, pretty-faced woman tending to a group of rowdy wizards.
"That's Madam Rosrta. She's quite popular with the young folks," Hagrid said, pointing to her. "I'm planning to order so butterbeer. What about you?"
"Alcohol affects brain," Sherlock said calmly.
"Then I'll get you so lemonade. Don't worry, it's not nearly as sweet as what Dumbledore has," Hagrid said, winking at Sherlock as he led him to an empty table by the window in the back of the room.
"Hey, Madam Rosrta, long ti no see!" Hagrid went to the bar and skillfully greeted Madam Rosrta and several nearby wizards.
"Give a butterbeer and a lemonade—oh, and is that Greek fellow around?"
When Hagrid returned from the bar, he brought two foaming mugs of hot butterbeer and a plain glass of lemonade. Behind him followed an unremarkable, sturdy man.
"Hello, Mr. Hols. I'm Hadras Baskerville. Very pleased to et you." The unremarkable man whom Hagrid called "the Greek fellow" enthusiastically shook hands with Sherlock:
"It's wonderful to have your help! I've heard Hagrid ntion your exploits more than once. I greatly admire your marvelous ability to see into people's hearts without magic."
After his enthusiastic praise, Baskerville frowned, his expression becoming lancholy: "It's just that what I'm about to tell you is so bizarre that even the Ministry of Magic probably wouldn't believe it."
Sherlock placed his hands together under his chin, leaned back slightly, his eyes sparkling with long-missed excitent: "No matter. I'm all ears."
"First, please allow to introduce myself—I'm a translator. Hagrid should have told you already."
"No, he didn't."
Hagrid scratched his head sowhat awkwardly. He indeed hadn't ntioned this point.
"No matter, I'll tell you directly then." Although Baskerville was sowhat surprised, he smiled and began explaining to Sherlock:
"Mr. Hols, you may not believe this, but I can translate all languages—or rather, almost all commonly used languages. I've served as a temporary translator for many international magical organizations and provided guide services for foreign wealthy wizards, thanks to my understanding of their culture.
However, since I was born in Greece and have a Greek na, my main work is translating Greek. For years, I've been the leading Greek translator in Scotland, and my na is well-known among various organizations. When foreign wizards encounter difficulties, or when tourists arrive here, they often ask to serve as their translator. Therefore, two weeks ago in the afternoon, when a wizard nad John Smith ca to my ho asking to accompany him out, I didn't find it strange at all. But I never imagined that such an apparently ordinary matter would put in such dangerous circumstances!"
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