Hermione had originally been quite happy.
Because Sherlock hadn't lost his composure like Ron and the other boys upon seeing that Veela-like French girl.
Then in the blink of an eye, she heard Sherlock say that girl knew him.
She stared blankly at Sherlock. "You said she knows you... d-does that an you know her too?"
Before she finished speaking, Ron's voice, raised in shock, drowned her out. "Sherlock, you're saying that girl knows you? When? Where? What's her na?"
"She knows , but I don't know her."
Sherlock calmly shook his head, denying Ron's rapid-fire guesses.
"Then... how do you know she knows you?"
Harry found this sowhat incredible—it didn't make logical sense.
If you don't know soone, how can you tell that they know you?
"Dear Harry, from her behavior just now, it's quite easy to deduce this point. Her reaction indicates she knows , or at least knows who I am."
Ron shook his head. "I don't understand."
Sherlock explained to the three of them. "The way she just looked at wasn't the look you give a stranger, but rather a look of recognition that she tried to conceal."
"Recognition, tried to conceal?"
Hermione keenly grasped the key words and asked with a frown, "Why would she want to conceal knowing you? Isn't that stranger than not knowing you? She's just a Beauxbatons student!"
"I'm wondering about that too."
Sherlock's gaze followed the girl's retreating figure, his hands clasped together supporting his chin.
"Logically, it doesn't make sense. I can't deduce how she knows or why she wants to conceal knowing ."
Sherlock admitted this frankly.
Hermione's frown deepened. "So just because she looked at you once, you're saying she knows you? Isn't that conclusion a bit... hasty?"
Sherlock said quietly, "It wasn't just one look."
Just now, from that one glance the girl gave him as she left, from those deep blue eyes, Sherlock captured an extrely brief, almost faint hint of sothing unusual.
It wasn't curiosity about a stranger, but rather a quick, subconscious confirmation.
This was imdiately followed by a subtle stiffness, as if her intentions had been seen through, finally concealed by quickly lowered eyelashes.
Such subtle expressions might escape others' notice, but to Sherlock, they were as obvious as ink on white paper.
Sherlock continued explaining to his three friends, "It was the pause in her gaze, an extrely quick mont of surprise, then a subconscious concealing movent. Pupils contracting slightly, gaze quickly dropping. The combination of these micro-expressions conveyed very clear information: she recognized , and she didn't want to discover that she recognized . As for the reason behind this..."
Sherlock spread his hands. "That's already beyond the scope of information I can obtain through observation. Perhaps it's related to the competitive relationship between Beauxbatons and Hogwarts? Or perhaps there's so other personal reason? Insufficient clues, unable to deduce."
Ron imdiately showed an expression of complete admiration. "But how does she know you? A girl as beautiful as her—if you'd seen her even once, you'd definitely rember!"
Sherlock was silent for a mont. Harry, Hermione, and Ron all carefully watched his expression and noticed he seed to be trying to rember.
"Sherlock, could it be sothing from when you were little?"
Harry couldn't help speculating.
Since the school had announced the Triwizard Tournant last week, various information about Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had been dug up.
Setting aside the false rumor that Beauxbatons was an all-girls school, there was so confird information.
For example, Beauxbatons was located in southern France, Durmstrang was in Northern Europe, though which specific country remained unknown.
Now that Sherlock was saying this Beauxbatons girl knew him, it reminded Harry of when he first t Mycroft Hols in first year and his introduction of Sherlock.
When Sherlock was four years old, the entire Hols family had traveled to Montpellier, France, and stayed there for two whole years.
Mrs. Hols had learned French cooking during that ti.
So, Harry imdiately connected these two matters.
"Yes, Harry, in my early years I did go to Montpellier, France with my family."
Montpellier was France's eighth-largest city and could be considered a cultural city of France.
At the sa ti, it was also the capital of the Hérault departnt in the Occitanie region and the prefectural city of the Languedoc-Roussillon region.
The climate there was pleasant, belonging to the typical diterranean climate. It was France's winter retreat, known as the "City of Sunshine."
Of course, the Hols family's two years in France weren't spent entirely in Montpellier.
During that ti, they had also visited Paris, Marseille, Lyon, and other cities, but...
Sherlock pondered for a mont, then shook his head. "But those mories are too vague. Even if we really did et, human appearance changes so intensely that there's no way to confirm it's the sa person. So, this can't serve as an explanation for how she knows —dear Harry, reasoning without evidence is very dangerous."
Having said this, Sherlock once again emphasized the limitations of deduction. "The only conclusion we can draw now is that she knows . Everything else is a mystery."
"Bloody hell!"
Ron murmured, looking at Sherlock, then at the long-haired girl in the distance, and couldn't help exclaiming, "This is so cool!"
Obviously, he was extrely excited about the scenario of "a mysterious French beauty knowing Sherlock."
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, both seeing confusion and doubt in each other's eyes.
A Beauxbatons witch clearly knew Sherlock but tried to conceal it?
Undoubtedly, there was sothing fishy about this!
In Hermione's mind, alarm bells were ringing even more loudly.
Objectively speaking, this Beauxbatons girl's appearance was truly too striking.
Even Gemma, Cho Chang, and Penelope were slightly inferior.
The enhancent from Veela blood was simply too unreasonable.
Fortunately, Sherlock truly was soone whose words matched his actions—he said he didn't focus on appearance, and indeed he didn't.
However, this small incident was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, stirring up ripples of unusual significance on this opening night of the Triwizard Tournant.
At this mont, the second course also arrived.
Just like before, many desserts appeared that the young Hogwarts wizards had never seen before.
Ron examined one carefully, it was a strange, pale blancmange.
After asking Sherlock and learning this was also a French product, he carefully moved it a few inches to his right.
This little sche was clear not only to Sherlock but also to Harry and Hermione.
It was simply so the dish could be clearly seen from the direction of the Ravenclaw table.
Unfortunately, the Veela-like girl seed to have already eaten her fill and didn't co over again to take this dessert.
This left Ron feeling very disappointed.
It also confird Sherlock's deduction for Hermione.
The girl's earlier action of coming over to get food had simply been an excuse!
She had co specifically for Sherlock.
When the golden plates had been wiped clean once more, Dumbledore stood up again.
An excited and nervous mood perated the Great Hall.
Sherlock clasped his hands together supporting his chin, leaned back slightly, and observed Dumbledore with great interest.
Harry and Ron beside him were even more excited, not knowing what would be arranged next.
A few seats away from them, the Weasley twins were craning their necks, focusing intently on Dumbledore.
Only Hermione frowned slightly, her gaze moving back and forth between Sherlock and that Veela-like Beauxbatons girl.
"After more than a month since the start of term, this mont has finally arrived," Dumbledore said, smiling at the upturned faces.
"The Triwizard Tournant is about to begin—but first, I want to explain the arrangents for this school year's activities. First, please allow to introduce two guests, as so people still don't know them. This is Mr. Ludo Bagman, head of the Departnt of Magical Gas and Sports. And this is Mr. Alastor Moody, forr Ministry of Magic Auror."
"Goodness, when did they arrive?" Ron showed a surprised expression.
"While you were watching that girl," Sherlock said calmly.
"..."
When Ludo Bagman's na was introduced, enthusiastic applause erupted in the Great Hall.
This was perhaps because he was sowhat famous as a Beater, or perhaps simply because he looked much more approachable than the other guest—he waved cheerfully in acknowledgnt.
But when Alastor Moody was introduced, not a single teacher or student applauded except Dumbledore and Hagrid.
Dumbledore and Hagrid clapped a few tis, realized the applause echoed lonely in the silent Great Hall, and wisely lowered their hands.
Mainly because the others all seed stunned by Moody's strange appearance and just stared at him fixedly.
Especially Karkaroff.
The mont he saw Moody, his face turned pale, revealing a terrible expression mixing resentnt and fear.
Moody seed unmoved by the cold reception.
He picked up a goblet from the table and took a large drink. His normal eye stared at the goblet, but that blue eye continued rotating ceaselessly in its socket, surveying the Great Hall and the students.
When he raised his arm to drink, his cloak dragging on the ground was pulled up a few inches.
Thus people saw several inches of carved wooden prosthetic leg visible under the table, with a claw-shaped foot below.
"Sherlock, Harry, aren't you surprised?"
Noticing that both Sherlock and Harry seed quite composed, Ron couldn't help asking.
"We already saw him at Peter Pettigrew's trial," Harry said quietly, but still sowhat unable to understand. "But what are they doing here?"
Hermione explained, "The Triwizard Tournant is organized by the Departnt of International Magical Cooperation and the Departnt of Magical Gas and Sports. I guess they want to witness the opening ceremony firsthand. But with what happened to Barty Crouch, he certainly can't co. However... having Mad-Eye Moody co seems rather odd, doesn't it?"
"Protection," Sherlock suddenly spoke.
"What?" Hermione looked at him in confusion.
"The Daily Prophet previously published news about Moody."
Sherlock said calmly, "As far as I know, Alastor Moody is very good friends with Dumbledore. If Professor Lupin is unable to fulfill his role as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this school year, then Moody would be the teacher for that course."
"Good heavens!"
"My God!"
"Bloody hell!"
Harry, Hermione, and Ron all showed surprised expressions.
Having Mad-Eye Moody as their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—just thinking about it was unbearable.
"Thank goodness that curse was broken..." Ron murmured. "Co to think of it, this should be the only ti I'd thank Lockhart for anything."
After all, according to Dumbledore's analysis, it was precisely because Lockhart had been possessed by Voldemort and gotten to indulge in teaching that the curse of having a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor every year was broken.
Hermione glared at him fiercely, then withdrew her gaze and asked Sherlock again, "But what does this have to do with the 'protection' you ntioned?"
"As an excellent Auror, an expert at catching Dark wizards, he must also be skilled at protection. Although the Triwizard Tournant has been restarted, safety is the top priority. Arranging Moody as a mber of the judging panel can effectively prevent various accidents to a certain extent. That's the first reason."
Sherlock held up two fingers. "Second, from the content published in the last Daily Prophet, many people in the wizarding world now think Moody's ntal state has been problematic since retirent. As they say, there are no mistaken nicknas, only mistaken nas—the fact that he's called Mad-Eye speaks volus. So, taking advantage of Crouch's inability to participate, having Moody replace him is also a form of protection for Moody himself."
At this mont, Dumbledore spoke again.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Moody will join , Professor Karkaroff, and Mada Maxi to form the panel of judges who will evaluate the champions' efforts."
Upon hearing the word "champions," the students seed to beco even more attentive.
Even the shock from Moody's unusual appearance was temporarily forgotten.
Dumbledore seed to notice their sudden silence. He smiled slightly and said, "Mr. Filch, please bring up the casket."
Except for Sherlock, no one had noticed that Filch had been lurking in a corner of the Great Hall all along.
Now, hearing Dumbledore's words, Filch walked toward Dumbledore carrying a large wooden box studded with jewels.
The casket looked very old. The students watched it spellbound, discussing it with great interest.
Little ones like Dennis Creevey simply stood on their chairs to see better.
But he was truly too small—even standing, his head was hardly higher than anyone else's.
For Sherlock, Harry, and Ron, it was much simpler—they only needed to sit up straight.
When Filch carefully placed the casket on the table in front of Dumbledore, Dumbledore said, "The specific tasks the champions will compete in this year have been carefully reviewed by Mr. Bagman and Mr. Moody. They have also made many necessary arrangents for each task. There are three tasks in total, spread throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways: testing their magical ability, their ability to face danger, their courage and powers of deduction..."
At this point, more than half the students in the Great Hall looked toward Gryffindor.
By now, whenever "deduction" was ntioned, Sherlock Hols was an unavoidable na.
"Of course, you already know that three champions will represent their respective schools in the competition, but..."
Dumbledore paused here.
"...the rules will be changing this year."
Upon hearing this sentence, the Great Hall beca as silent as death, as if everyone had stopped breathing.
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