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Now reading: Chapter 472: 0472 The Incident from HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES, a Action novel by MikeyMuse.

When Ludo Bagman heard that Fred actually wanted to withdraw his bet, he, who had been excitedly chatting with Mr. Weasley, was imdiately stunned.

"Why?"

He looked at Fred in shock, asking in puzzlent, "Why did you suddenly change your mind, boy?"

"Sorry, Mr. Bagman, but we just discussed it and still feel our dad is right—we're too young and shouldn't participate in gambling."

Fred naturally couldn't reveal Sherlock's deduction about him possibly defaulting on debts.

So, he simply found a reason that appeared proper and flawless on the surface.

"When we get back, Mum will definitely kill us!"

"Well..."

Hearing this, Bagman couldn't help showing a troubled expression.

Just as Hermione had said, no one wants to spit out at that's already in their mouth.

However, after hearing Sherlock's words, Fred had made up his mind—he had to get that money back.

He pressed his palms together, looking at Bagman with a sincere expression. "Please, Mr. Bagman."

"How can you go back on your word?"

At this mont, Percy beca unhappy. He said to Fred in a low voice.

"Mr. Bagman was already very kind to accept your fake wand, and now you want to back out?"

"Shut up, unless you're willing to return the money to us," Fred said without courtesy.

He really couldn't believe his third brother.

Always siding with outsiders against his own family.

At this ti, Mr. Weasley also began to help. "Ludo, you should give them the money back!

George is right—once Molly gets angry, even I'm afraid!"

Seeing that Mr. Weasley was also saying this, Ludo Bagman hesitated for a while, but still counted out thirty-six Galleons, eighteen Sickles, and nine Knuts and returned them to Fred.

"I haven't even ward them up yet..."

Bagman said reluctantly, "Oh, and that fake wand..."

"Sir, please keep the wand!"

Fred noticed that Bagman was very interested in their invention and knew when to stop.

"If we really lost it, Mum wouldn't be angry."

"Well... alright then... I'll still count it as five Galleons for you."

As Bagman spoke, he took back the slip of paper, wrote a new one, and handed it to Fred.

"Here you go, George."

"Thanks, but I'm Fred."

"What? But didn't Arthur just say..."

"Well, we're used to our own parents often not being able to tell us apart."

"Sorry, Ludo, Fred is over there."

Mr. Weasley also said apologetically at this ti.

"...Forget it, let's talk about sothing else, Arthur. Can you help with sothing?"

Seeing that Fred had gotten the money back, Mr. Weasley also secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He naturally didn't know that Fred had changed his mind because Sherlock had just made an analysis.

He was simply happy that his son hadn't participated in gambling.

Now hearing Bagman suddenly ask for help, he couldn't help asking curiously.

"What is it?"

"Actually, I've been looking for Barty Crouch."

Bagman said sowhat gloomily.

"The Bulgarian official with the sa position as keeps raising objections and making things difficult for us, but I can't understand a word he's saying.

But Barty will solve this problem—he speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?!"

Percy had just been standing rigidly in place due to his dissatisfaction with Bagman, like a telephone pole.

Now, hearing the na Barty Crouch, he beca excitedly agitated.

"He can speak two hundred languages! rmish, Gobbledegook, and Troll..."

"Anyone can speak Troll."

Fred interrupted him dismissively. Still dissatisfied with Percy for just trying to stop him from reclaiming his stake, he said without rcy.

"You just point at it and make grunting sounds."

"Pfft~"

Several young wizards nearby couldn't hold back their laughter when they heard this.

Fred really had a gift for sarcasm!

Percy shot Fred a vicious glare, then began vigorously poking at the bonfire, making the water in the kettle boil again.

At this ti, Bagman also sat down on the grass beside them.

This made it awkward for Fred, who had just returned to Sherlock's side, to share his joy with his companions.

Everyone simply exchanged knowing glances and watched Mr. Bagman and Mr. Weasley chat.

"Ludo, would you like a sausage?"

"Thanks, I'm a bit hungry."

"So... still no news of Bertha Jorkins?"

"Not a trace."

Bagman said casually while chewing on the sausage.

"But don't worry, she'll turn up at the right ti.

Poor old Bertha... her mory is like a leaky cauldron, and her sense of direction has always been terrible—she's probably gotten lost again.

I think soti in October she'll wander back into the office, thinking it's still July.

—Whether you believe it or not, I do."

"What's the story with Bertha Jorkins?"

After hearing their conversation, Sherlock turned to ask Ron.

Ron shook his head and looked at his two brothers.

"She's a witch in the Ministry, under this Mr. Bagman's Departnt of Magical Gas and Sports."

Bill said in a low voice, explaining to Sherlock.

"During this sumr holiday, she went on vacation to Albania and never ca back—it's been over a month now."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Soone from his own departnt has been missing for a whole month, and that's his attitude?"

"Uh... her situation is a bit special. Everyone in the Ministry knows that Jorkins has a notoriously bad mory.

Over the years, she's been transferred from one departnt to another, treated as a burden wherever she goes, and finally ended up in Magical Gas and Sports."

Seeing that Sherlock was still frowning, Charlie added.

"You can't really bla Mr. Bagman for not taking it seriously—similar things have happened before, and she always wanders back after a week or two."

Sherlock listened to Bill and Charlie's explanations, but also kept every word of Mr. Weasley and Bagman's conversation in mind.

He saw Mr. Weasley tentatively suggest to Bagman. "Don't you want to send soone to look for her?"

At this ti, Percy perceptively handed Bagman a cup of tea.

"Ha, thank you, Percy—actually Barty Crouch keeps saying so, but under the current circumstances, we really can't spare anyone.

Ha—speak of the devil! Barty!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a distinctive crackling sound was heard, and then a wizard suddenly appeared by their bonfire.

According to Ludo Bagman, this was Barty Crouch, Head of the Departnt of International Magical Cooperation, and also Percy's direct supervisor.

With just one glance at Mr. Crouch, Sherlock understood why Percy had shown that expression when hearing his na.

Because Percy Weasley was soone who always advocated strict adherence to discipline.

And Barty Crouch had taken this to the extre.

Especially compared to Ludo Bagman, who wore the old Wasp team robes and sat lazily on the grass, the contrast was striking.

As a man in his fifties, Crouch stood straight with stiff movents, wearing an immaculately pressed suit and tie.

His short black hair was grood without a hair out of place, the part in the middle so straight it seed almost unnatural, and his narrow mustache looked as if it had been trimd with a ruler.

His shoes were also polished to a high shine.

Without exaggeration, judging solely by Barty Crouch's appearance, no one would think he was a wizard.

"He looks just like a bank manager," Harry said to Sherlock in a low voice.

Sherlock nodded.

Indeed, compared to other wizards he'd seen at the Ministry, Barty Crouch was distinctive and quite the anomaly.

However...

In just that brief encounter, Sherlock had already detected that Crouch was unsettled.

Another secret?

It was one thing for everyone at Hogwarts to have secrets, but why were Ministry mbers the sa way?

At this mont, seeing Mr. Crouch arrive, Bagman happily patted the grass beside him and said.

"Sit down and rest a while, Barty."

"No need, thank you, Ludo." Though Crouch was expressing thanks, his voice carried a hint of impatience. "I've been looking everywhere for you—the Bulgarians insist we add twelve more seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, so that's what they want!"

Bagman said, "I thought the fellow was asking to borrow tweezers—their accents are so heavy."

Twelve seats and tweezers did indeed sound sowhat similar, and if a certain syllable was pronounced differently, the confusion wasn't strange.

"Mr. Crouch!"

At this mont, seeing his direct supervisor, Percy beca so excited he could barely breathe.

He leaned forward, making a bowing gesture.

The movent was so exaggerated that he looked like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Only then did Mr. Crouch notice Percy. He looked him over in surprise for a mont, then nodded.

"Well—thank you, Weatherby."

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and the others almost laughed out loud but managed to hold it in.

Bill and Charlie had better self-control, but still kept their faces tightly composed.

Fred and George weren't so polite—the two burst out laughing, nearly spraying tea from their cups.

Just as Bagman had said, Crouch had even gotten Percy's surna wrong.

The scene beca sowhat awkward for a mont, with only Sherlock and Sirius unmoved by it all.

Sherlock considered such things not worth making a fuss over.

As for Sirius, he had quite a history with Barty Crouch.

From the mont he appeared by Apparition, Sirius had folded his arms, watching him with a aningful gaze.

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