After finishing lunch, Harry decisively dragged Sherlock and Hermione off to see the Firebolt.
The Weasley twins ran off to explore everywhere, Sirius had said they could do anything as long as they didn't tear down the ceiling, and they were thrilled to have found such a place.
The Burrow's space was really quite cramped. Their little experiments were making increasingly loud commotions, and Mrs. Weasley was growing more and more dissatisfied.
Ron and Ginny followed Sherlock and Hermione over as well. Ron genuinely wanted to see the Firebolt again.
As for Ginny, her interest lay elsewhere.
Taking advantage of these two days when the entire Weasley family was at 12 Grimmauld Place, she was working hard to get closer to Harry and seizing every opportunity to spend time alone with him.
Such chances were far too rare at school.
Unfortunately, Harry's mind these past two days had been entirely focused on dealing with this old Manor, completely oblivious to the girl's feelings.
Seeing Ginny sneaking along behind them, Sherlock turned to Harry and asked, "How did Ginny's Christmas present to you taste?"
"It tasted quite good—"
Harry answered reflexively, then caught himself. "Wait, how did you know what Ginny gave me? I haven't told you yet!"
"Deduction."
Sherlock then turned to Hermione. "Ginny gave you cookies as a Christmas present too, didn't she?"
"Yes, though the taste..." Hermione glanced carefully at Ginny, then leaned closer to Sherlock and lowered her voice.
"I asked about it. She gave us the cookies she used for practice, and saved the ones she was most satisfied with for Harry.
Actually, our batch wasn't too bad, at least they were edible.
The very first practice batch, the ones she was least satisfied with, went to her brothers.
Ron said Percy nearly had a breakdown when he ate his."
Sherlock nodded upon hearing this. So, Ginny did have some talent after all.
The final gift she gave Harry had earned a "quite good" evaluation.
She just wasted her brothers a bit.
After seeing the Firebolt in person, Sherlock concluded it was indeed a broomstick worth its price.
Unfortunately, he had originally wanted to ask how close the Firebolt's retail price was to his own estimate, but Sirius didn't follow convention—he'd directly sent the shop clerk to his own vault to fetch the gold galleons.
Now, aside from that clerk, no one knew exactly how much Sirius had spent to buy Harry the Firebolt.
However, one could imagine what kind of sensation it would cause when a broomstick that should only appear in international competitions suddenly showed up at a magical school like Hogwarts.
"I can't wait to see the expressions on those Slytherin gits," Ron said, grinning so widely he couldn't close his mouth as he gazed at the gleaming Firebolt before them.
"Malfoy's father bought everyone on the team a Nimbus 2001 just to get Malfoy onto the Slytherin Quidditch team.
But he never imagined that this single Firebolt is worth more than all seven Nimbus 2001s combined."
"Ron, actually, with Malfoy's own ability, he would have been qualified for the Seeker position even if his father hadn't spent that money," Harry said thoughtfully, not voicing the second half of his thought—after all, saying "Malfoy flies better than you" would be too hurtful.
However, even without saying that, Ron still expressed his dissatisfaction. "Harry, how can you take Malfoy's side?"
"I'm just stating a fact."
Harry thought to himself, if I were really taking his side, you'd be jumping up and down.
"You're learning to talk like Sherlock again, honestly—" Ron muttered, then remembered something and turned directly to Sherlock to ask, "Malfoy's broomstick was also smashed by the Whomping Willow. His father wouldn't buy him a Firebolt too, would he?"
If old Malfoy did that, then there'd be nothing to laugh about.
"Impossible."
Seeing Sherlock's certainty, Ron asked curiously, "Why? Their family should be able to afford a Firebolt, shouldn't they?"
"They can afford it, but for the Malfoy family, this would definitely be a major expense.
You just said it yourself—one Firebolt is worth more than seven Nimbus 2001s combined.
Malfoy's father only bought those seven Nimbus 2001s last year, which was already no small expense.
The successful resolution of the Chamber of Secrets incident caused him to suffer a major setback—he was kicked off the Board of Governors.
He then spent quite a bit of money dealing with the aftermath.
So, buying a Firebolt at this point would be what you might call bone-breaking for their family finances, which they cannot accept."
"Sherlock's absolutely right," Hermione nodded and added, "There's also another important reason—the Firebolt's advertised as being able to accelerate to 150 miles per hour within ten seconds. If that's true—"
"It must be true!" Ron jumped in before Hermione could finish.
"The Irish International team ordered seven Firebolts. If they dared make false advertisements, there would have been an uproar already."
"...If that's true, then it's terrifying!
Ronald, do you understand what it means to accelerate from a standstill to 150 miles per hour in ten seconds?"
Not only was Ron shaking his head, but Ginny was too.
Two people born into wizarding families really had no concept of physics.
Harry vaguely understood what Hermione was getting at, but even so, he didn't understand why she would look so serious about it.
Only Sherlock maintained a calm expression throughout.
Seeing this, Hermione sighed. "It means its acceleration reaches nearly 6.7 meters per second squared, which is already close to 70% of gravitational acceleration!"
"What's gravitational acceleration?"
"...You don't need to understand that concept. Put another way, its acceleration performance has far exceeded ordinary cars, reaching the level of a cheetah's sprint or top sports cars."
"So, what's the problem?"
Even though Hermione had provided specific examples, the Weasley siblings still didn't understand her point.
"The problem is huge! When people drive vehicles, they're in a protected state, but when riding a Firebolt, you're completely exposed in the air!
More importantly, 150 miles per hour may not even be the Firebolt's maximum speed, so even professional players might have difficulty mastering it."
She looked at Harry with a worried expression. "Harry, this is too dangerous. You must be careful."
Before Harry could respond, Ron waved his hand dismissively with a laugh.
"Don't worry, Harry's a once-in-a-century Quidditch genius. He'll be fine."
Ginny also reassured her. "Hermione, you really don't need to worry. Top-tier broomsticks like the Firebolt have excellent protective features."
Harry now understood what Hermione meant and said with a smile, "Hermione, it's all right. If someone can ride a Firebolt in competitions, then I can do it too."
Hermione: "..."
Compared to the somewhat agitated Hermione, Sherlock was much calmer.
After all, this was the magical world—some physical laws could, to a certain extent, be disregarded.
What was that saying?
If science can't explain it, magic fills in the gaps.
For Hermione, since the Firebolt was Sirius's Christmas gift to Harry, and Harry himself was happy about it, she couldn't really say much more.
But she was certain that if Harry's mother Lily were still alive and knew that Sirius had bought a Firebolt for her 13-year-old son, kicking him out of the house would be considered polite.
Unfortunately, Lily was gone.
At this thought, Hermione suppressed this sadness and quickly changed the subject.
"Our match against Slytherin should be in the last term, right—ever since they switched places with Hufflepuff."
Harry nodded. "Right, but this adjustment actually spread out our matches for the year, one match per term.
Next term against Ravenclaw, and the final term after Easter holiday against Slytherin."
"Ravenclaw's nothing to worry about!" Ron said confidently.
"Ravenclaw's much stronger than Hufflepuff, Ron," Hermione said. Already worried about the Firebolt situation, she particularly couldn't stand Ron's arrogant attitude and immediately called him out.
"We only lost to Hufflepuff last time because of an accident!"
Quidditch and wizard's chess were among the few areas where Ron felt he was better than Hermione, so he immediately protested.
"The biggest problem interfering with Harry has been solved—the Dementors have left the school and won't come back!
Ravenclaw's Seeker Cho Chang is good, but she's still a bit behind Harry. Plus, her broomstick is a Comet 260, everyone knows that compared to a Firebolt, that's a joke!
Under these circumstances, I really can't see how we could lose, unless—"
Ron looked at Harry with a meaningful expression. "Now that Hermione mentions it, I'm actually a bit worried about you, mate."
"Worried about what?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Since they'd already said the Dementor problem was solved, and he now had a top-tier broomstick with a commanding lead, what was there to worry about?
Ron looked at Harry and suddenly grinned. "You can't go easy on Cho Chang just because you're friends with her!"
Harry. "..."
Ginny, who had been silent, couldn't help but give Ron a mental thumbs-up.
This brother of hers had finally been useful for once!
"Ron, what are you saying? Harry would never be that kind of person," Hermione immediately expressed her displeasure at Ron suggesting Harry would throw the match because of his friendship with Cho Chang.
Harry also sighed. "Ron, you're overthinking it. When Cho and I first met, she already brought this up."
Mentioning Cho Chang brought a smile to Harry's face. "She said if I deliberately went easy on her during a Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match, she'd lose all respect for me!"
Sherlock nodded slightly, and Hermione gave a thumbs up. "Good for her!"
Ron scratched his nose awkwardly. "I was just joking, just joking, haha."
Ginny looked at Harry's proud expression: (ಥ﹏ಥ)
Realizing his joke was poorly timed, Ron forcibly changed the subject.
"Oh right, there's something else I should tell you. Sirius gave me an owl."
He produced a tiny gray owl like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat.
As soon as the owl appeared, it hooted happily and pecked at his finger.
"This is Pig's way of showing affection," Ron said with disgust. "I've told it off many times, but it just won't listen."
Sherlock and Harry, who already knew about this, exchanged glances and smiled without saying anything.
Hermione was taken aback. "You call it what? Pig?"
"Yeah, because it's a bit dim," Ginny said, recovering from her dejected mood with a laugh. "Actually, its original name was Pigwidgeon."
"Yes, that name wasn't dim at all.
But Ginny thought the name was especially cute, so she kept calling it that.
By the time I wanted to change it, it was too late—because the owl now only responds to that name.
Call it anything else and it completely ignores you, so it ended up being Pig."
Ron glanced at his sister and said arrogantly.
"It's too noisy. Errol and Hermes both hate it. Honestly, I hate it too."
As soon as Ron finished speaking, Pigwidgeon flew happily around the room, emitting sharp hoots.
This time it was Sherlock and Hermione who exchanged glances.
They both knew Ron's words should only be taken at face value, take them seriously and you'd lose.
After all, the most direct example hadn't been that long ago.
From first year, Ron had constantly complained about his rat Scabbers.
But when the truth was unclear and Crookshanks was chasing Scabbers relentlessly, he'd been furious about it and had completely fallen out with his good friend Hermione over it.
Of course, Hermione was partly at fault in that incident too, but this alone showed that Ron was the type to say he didn't want something while his body was very honest about wanting it.
He'd been that way with Scabbers then, and now he was the same way with this owl called Pig.
His mouth complained endlessly, but his heart actually loved it.
Thinking of that large cat that had helped him catch Peter Pettigrew and earned great merit, Sherlock turned to Hermione. "Where's Crookshanks? Didn't you bring him along?"
"I did bring him. He's probably playing in the room. After all, he's never seen so many curious things before. He quite enjoys chasing Kreacher around..."
Hermione said, "Sherlock, actually I think everyone doesn't need to treat house-elves like—"
Her words were drowned out by a terrible, deafening, blood-curdling scream.
"Oh no!" Harry immediately jumped up from the bed.
Sherlock met his eyes, and both instantly understood what had happened. Without another word, they ran downstairs.
"Wait for me!" Hermione called out, hurrying after them.
Ron and Ginny were stunned for a moment before following.
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