HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

”My wand contains a Veela hair as its core.”

Meeting Mr. Ollivander’s surprised gaze, Fleur proudly lifted her chin and declared, ”It’s my grandmother’s hair.”

Harry immediately looked at Sherlock with admiration. Fleur indeed had Veela blood in her lineage. Though if it was her grandmother, that would make her one-quarter Veela, wouldn’t it?

Harry decided to commit this detail to memory so he could tell Ron later.

”Yes...” Mr. Ollivander said. ”Yes, of course. I myself have never used Veela hair, as I find wands made with Veela hair to be temperamental and capricious. But everyone has their preferences, and if it suits you...”

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, clearly checking for scratches or damage. Then he murmured softly, ”Orchideous!”

A bouquet of flowers bloomed from the wand’s tip.

”Very good, very good, in excellent condition,” Mr. Ollivander said, gathering the flowers and returning them along with the wand to Fleur. ”Now, next contestant.”

Fleur accepted the wand with her grandmother’s hair as its core and returned to her seat with light, graceful steps. As she passed by Sherlock, she paused briefly before quickening her pace.

Sherlock’s gaze followed Fleur, noting that as she walked past Cedric, she gave him a charming smile.

Excellent—new clue acquired, Sherlock thought to himself.

He withdrew his gaze and continued watching Mr. Ollivander, who worked efficiently and soon finished inspecting the wands of the remaining two Beauxbatons champions and the three Durmstrang champions. All three Durmstrang wands were products of Gregorovitch. According to Mr. Ollivander, while he didn’t approve of that wandmaker’s style, Gregorovitch was nonetheless an exceptionally skilled craftsman.

He tested each wand with simple spells to verify their performance. The quality was excellent—all six wands were in perfect working order.

Next came the turn of Hogwarts’ three champions. Cedric went first, and when Mr. Ollivander discovered that Cedric’s wand was one of his own creations, he became noticeably more energetic than before.

He recited every detail of Cedric’s wand like a treasured catalog: its length, the wood of the shaft, the core material, and so on. Based on the wand’s appearance, he even asked Cedric whether he maintained it regularly, and when he received an affirmative answer, his pleasure grew even more obvious.

Hearing this, Harry quickly looked down at his own wand and noticed with dismay that it was covered in fingerprints. His face reddened, and he hastily grabbed a corner of his robes from his knee, trying to sneakily clean the wand. However, several golden sparks shot from the wand’s tip.

At that moment, Fleur Delacour cast him an extremely haughty glance.

Harry was about to give up when Sherlock stepped forward half a pace and turned slightly sideways, blocking Fleur’s view.

Fleur looked at Sherlock with surprise, seemingly not expecting him to do such a thing. Sherlock stared intently at Fleur while making a gesture behind his back, signaling Harry to continue.

Though Harry didn’t understand why Sherlock was doing this, he had always been quick to follow any hint from his friend. So, he immediately resumed cleaning his wand earnestly, no longer concerned with others’ gazes.

Under the scrutiny of Sherlock’s gray eyes, Fleur frowned. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but ultimately turned her head away without uttering a word. Deeply, however, she felt puzzled. What exactly was this boy trying to do? Could he really have noticed something?

Seeing this, Sherlock smiled faintly. No rush—he would toy with her a bit. Since they were all Triwizard Tournament champions, there would be plenty of opportunities to interact in the future. He wanted to see how long she could keep up the charade.

By this time, Mr. Ollivander had successfully made Cedric’s wand emit a stream of silver-white smoke rings that drifted from one end of the room to the other. Satisfied, he announced, ”Mr. Potter, your turn.”

Harry approached Mr. Ollivander and handed over his freshly cleaned wand.

”Ah yes, another one of mine,” Mr. Ollivander said, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming with excitement. ”Yes, yes, yes—I remember it perfectly. Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather...”

Sherlock keenly noticed that Mr. Ollivander’s expression as he sank into reminiscence was markedly different from before. Clearly, this wand held special significance for him.

Sherlock then looked at Harry and found that his good friend had also fallen into reminiscence. Indeed, Harry remembered obtaining this wand as vividly as Mr. Ollivander did. Everything felt as though it had happened yesterday, but in truth, it had been three years ago.

Back then, Hagrid had brought Harry, who had just been introduced to the magical world, into Mr. Ollivander’s shop to buy a wand. That afternoon, he had waved nearly every wand in the shop before finally finding one that suited him.

What concerned Harry most about this wand was its core material. That phoenix feather came from the same phoenix that had provided the feather in Voldemort’s wand core. Two tail feathers—one became Voldemort’s wand core, the other became Harry’s.

At the time, Mr. Ollivander had found this extraordinarily curious. But Harry had never told anyone about it. He loved his wand dearly. In his view, the wand couldn’t be blamed for its brother-relationship with Voldemort’s wand. Still, he hoped Mr. Ollivander wouldn’t reveal this secret to everyone in the room. He had a strange feeling that if Mr. Ollivander disclosed this information, something bad would inevitably happen.

Fortunately, Mr. Ollivander did no such thing. However, he spent considerably more time examining Harry’s wand than he had with the others. Finally, he made wine spray from the wand’s tip, then returned it to Harry, declaring it to be in excellent condition.

”And finally... Mr. Holmes.”

When he saw Sherlock, Mr. Ollivander’s face broke into a smile once again. ”Another wand of my making. I remember every wand I’ve ever sold perfectly clearly. Beech wood and dragon heartstring, twelve inches, unyielding yet flexible, am I right? Avis!”

The beech wand emitted a loud bang like a gunshot, and a flock of small birds burst from the wand’s tip, fluttering their wings as they flew out the open window into the pale sunlight.

As this demonstration concluded, Mr. Ollivander returned the wand to Sherlock and officially announced that all the champions’ wands were in perfect working order.

”Well then... thank you, everyone.”

Dumbledore stood up from the judges’ table. ”You may now return to class or perhaps it would be more convenient to go straight down to lunch, as classes will be ending soon anyway—”

But at that moment, Bagman suddenly exclaimed excitedly, ”Photographs, Dumbledore, photographs, you interrupted them earlier!”

The man with the black camera also leaped up at this moment, clearing his throat to assert his presence.

Harry didn’t understand why Mr. Bagman was so excited. He watched as Bagman grabbed Dumbledore while turning to Rita Skeeter. ”A group photo of the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?”

”Er—yes, let’s do the group photos first,” Rita Skeeter said, her gaze once again falling on Harry and Sherlock beside him. ”Perhaps a few individual shots afterward.”

No one had anticipated that taking photographs would consume so much time. Madame Maxime blocked everyone else no matter where she stood, and the room was too small for the photographer to step back far enough to fit her into the frame. The final solution was to have her sit down while everyone else stood around her.

Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger, trying to make it curl. And Krum, surprisingly bashful like a shy girl, kept dodging and hiding behind everyone else.

”I thought he’d be used to this sort of thing by now,” Harry whispered quietly to Sherlock.

Sherlock shook his head with a smile. ”Avoid subjective assumptions and empiricism.”

The portly photographer seemed particularly eager to position Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept rushing forward to pull Harry into a more prominent position. After the group photo, she took a picture of all nine champions together, once again placing Harry in the center.

This action by Rita Skeeter made both the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students frown, and even Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked displeased.

After that came the three-school group photos. When it was Hogwarts’ turn, Harry insisted that Cedric stand in the middle. ”The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang captains were in the center.”

The photographer also urged, ”From a photographic perspective, it’s better to have the taller person in the middle.”

”Er... all right,” Rita Skeeter reluctantly agreed, unable to override Harry and conscious that considerable time had already been spent on photography.

Following this came individual portraits, one by one. In summary, a very long time passed before they were finally able to extricate themselves.

”Would you like to eat together?”

After leaving the room, the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students departed in separate directions without so much as a farewell, while Cedric extended an invitation to Sherlock and Harry.

Harry and Sherlock had no objection. The three of them went downstairs to eat. By this time, most students in the Great Hall had already finished their meals. So, they chatted as they ate.

Harry was surprised to discover that Cedric was elegant and gracious in conversation, witty and humorous, giving him a very favorable impression. This made him believe that the Weasley twins, Ron, Seamus, and others indeed harbored prejudice against Cedric—significant prejudice at that.

Sherlock was still the best judge of character.

”Sherlock, Harry, while you two weren’t there yet, I had a brief chat with Miss Delacour from Beauxbatons,” Cedric said, placing a piece of roasted potato in his mouth, his tone relaxed and natural.

”Mm, I noticed,” Sherlock replied, dabbing the corner of his mouth with his napkin with elegant precision, his tone calm yet carrying a hint of knowing insight.

”You noticed?” Harry looked at Sherlock with some surprise. ”How did you notice? When I came in, I thought Cedric seemed rather bored standing there alone.”

Cedric also looked curiously at Sherlock, eager to hear what insights this school-famous deduction enthusiast might offer.

Sherlock set down his napkin and began his characteristic analytical process.

”As Harry said, although Cedric was standing alone at the time, his posture was relaxed, showing no obvious tension or anxiety. This formed a sharp contrast with Durmstrang’s Krum. As for the Beauxbatons trio, they were gathered together in quiet conversation.

Miss Fleur Delacour’s behavior was particularly intriguing. When Mr. Bagman called us in, her attention was momentarily drawn over, but she quickly withdrew it while glancing in your direction.

More crucially, during the wand inspection segment, she gave you a friendly smile. These details are sufficient to indicate that she harbors a kind of brief attention toward you that differs from how one regards a stranger—attention born from prior interaction.”

”Brilliant! Truly brilliant! Sherlock, you really are remarkable!” Hearing Sherlock’s analysis, Cedric couldn’t help but exclaim in admiration.

”Before you and Harry arrived, I did indeed initiate a greeting with Miss Delacour. However, it was very brief—just a few pleasantries about the weather and environment. I never imagined you could deduce even this.”

”It’s actually quite simple, hardly worth mentioning when explained. But more than that, I’m curious, what do you think of her?”

”Huh?” Cedric seemed not to have expected Sherlock to ask this so suddenly and was momentarily taken aback.

Sherlock cut straight to the point. ”I mean, share your first impression of Fleur Delacour.”

”Oh... we only exchanged a few words, but I get the feeling she’s a very confident person, and also... she’s extraordinarily beautiful... that’s about it.”

”That’s sufficient,” Sherlock said with a slight smile. ”From her performance just now, I can also discern certain things. Combined with your impression, I have enough information.”

”Enough?” Cedric was even more puzzled. He asked carefully, ”Sherlock, are you... very interested in Miss Delacour?”

During this period, Fleur Delacour’s beauty had consistently ranked in the top three of Hogwarts’ trending topics. As for the other two, they were the world-class Quidditch star Viktor Krum and the underage wizard participant in the Triwizard Tournament.

However, it wasn’t until today that Cedric learned Fleur’s grandmother was a Veela. Her stunning beauty seemed to find its explanation in that moment. But... based on his understanding of Sherlock Holmes, this wasn’t the sort of person who would focus on appearances!

Perhaps he had misunderstood...

”Yes, very interested,” Sherlock nodded affirmatively.

Cedric looked utterly bewildered.

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