Noisy and bustling.
All five people in Sherlock's dormitory had finally woken up.
Due to this special day, the atmosphere throughout the entire school was tense and excited.
Their dormitory was no exception.
Two of the three champions participating in the Triwizard Tournament were in the same dormitory—the probability of that was quite low indeed.
The school had sent out notices early that morning. classes would be suspended at noon.
The purpose was naturally to give all the students time to go down to the dragon enclosure below.
Of course, except for a few people, the vast majority had no idea what they would see there.
As for those who knew the inside story, most of them were extremely nervous.
Those were dragons, not baby dragons!
Man-eating dragons!
Only someone unusual like Sherlock could precisely isolate negative emotions from himself.
While they were roughhousing, Watson and several unfamiliar owls delivered a long, rectangular package.
"Sherlock, could this be..." Harry immediately thought of something upon seeing this familiar scene and instinctively looked toward Sherlock.
"That's right, my order has arrived." Sherlock opened the package as he spoke, and a shiny broomstick immediately rolled onto the bed.
"Bloody hell!" Ron, who had been competing with Dean, suddenly had his attention drawn over.
Neville and Dean immediately crowded around as well.
Although Ron couldn't afford a broomstick, whenever the three major series Nimbus, Comet, and Cleansweep released a new model, he paid close attention.
So at this moment, with just one glance, he recognized it. "It's actually the latest model Nimbus 2002!"
"What? Let me see!" Dean excitedly took it from Sherlock's hands and examined it carefully.
After a moment, he shook his head and said, "No, that's not right!"
"What's not right?"
"This isn't a Nimbus 2002!"
"How could it not be? This is clearly the newest model, faster and more stable than the Nimbus 2000 and Nimbus 2001!"
"Because it's a Nimbus 2002 Super!"
"..." Ron hastily took the broomstick back and looked at it for a long time, then couldn't help but sigh. "Alright Dean, you're right. This time I was mistaken."
Of course, you couldn't blame Ron for this.
The Nimbus 2002 Super was originally an enhanced version of the Nimbus 2002, looking almost identical on the outside, making it difficult to distinguish at a glance.
Only by holding it in your hands and observing carefully, like Dean did, could you tell the difference.
Following the tradition of the Nimbus series, the Nimbus 2002 Super had about a three percent speed increase over the Nimbus 2002, approximately a five percent stability improvement, and a fifteen percent price increase.
This manufacturer was just like that—their pricing strategy was consistently precise.
Although the Firebolt loomed above it, the latest Nimbus series broomstick still held considerable appeal.
Several dormmates, including Harry, picked it up and studied it carefully for quite a while.
Harry touched the Nimbus 2002 Super and couldn't help but think of his own Nimbus 2000 from the same series.
That was the first broomstick of his life that belonged to him.
Professor McGonagall had bought it with her own money and given it to him so he could join the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
More importantly, it had let Harry experience the feeling of flying for the first time, and it held special meaning for him.
Even now, he still kept the remains of his Nimbus 2000, taking it out to reminisce from time to time.
While touching the Nimbus 2002 Super, Harry looked up and said, "Sherlock, I thought you would buy a Firebolt too!"
"I could, but there's no need."
"Right, Sherlock isn't a Quidditch player, so there's no need to use such a good broomstick."
"Come on, Dean, the Nimbus 2002 Super is already very powerful—it's the strongest broomstick below the Firebolt. So many of our siblings at home don't have a single Nimbus series broomstick, not even an old model from the Nimbus series."
Everyone discussed Sherlock's Nimbus 2002 Super, but no one noticed one thing.
That was why Sherlock had suddenly decided to buy a high-performance broomstick.
This couldn't help but make Harry secretly breathe a sigh of relief.
When they went to the Great Hall for a meal, the little lions came over one by one to wish them luck.
Next came History of Magic class.
Surprisingly, Professor Binns the ghost broke with tradition and actually talked about the Triwizard Tournament.
This immediately woke up the young wizards who had been drowsy. "Yes, the Triwizard Tournament, that was several hundred years ago... I remember once the competition involved catching a cockatrice, but the creature flew into a rage and injured three judges... the headmasters of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang..."
The young wizards listened with great interest, thinking how wonderful it would be if future History of Magic classes could be like this.
However, their wish was quickly dashed.
After just the first section of class, Professor Binns returned to his usual state. opening his notes and reading in a dry, low, monotonous voice, like an ancient vacuum cleaner.
Within five minutes, the entire class was drowsy.
Occasionally someone would come to their senses, copy down a name or date, and then drift back into a half-sleeping state.
After class, the little lions crowded around Sherlock and Harry as they walked into the Great Hall for lunch. Hermione and Ron had difficulty standing beside Sherlock and Harry without being pushed away by others.
"I kind of understand how Lockhart felt now, really," Ron said to the other three. "Someone was secretly touching my bottom just now!"
"Ahem, it must have been unintentional, right?"
"I can't say, because that hand kept rubbing back and forth several times..."
"Can we please stop talking about this? Ron, you're not planning to let Sherlock and Harry eat properly, are you?"
Ron obediently stopped talking about this topic, but Sherlock and Harry still couldn't eat properly.
Because people kept coming over to greet them.
Finally, Hermione and Ron had to take responsibility. "Let them eat first, okay?"
"That's right, you don't want to see our champions going into the competition on an empty stomach, do you!"
However, their persuasion didn't work very well on the enthusiastic young wizards. Cedric at the Hufflepuff table was similarly troubled.
Later, Hermione couldn't stand it anymore and forcefully sat down next to Sherlock.
She stared sternly at everyone who wanted to come chat with the same gaze as Professor McGonagall, which finally allowed them to eat properly.
"Hermione, thank you." Harry breathed a long sigh of relief.
His feeling now was very strange.
From the moment he left the dormitory, he felt like an outsider.
Whenever someone wished Sherlock and him luck, he felt that these things had nothing to do with him.
Harry knew clearly that this was because he was simply too nervous.
This emotion was so intense that it produced a strange sense of displacement.
He even felt that the way time was running was somewhat odd, as if it were galloping forward at full speed.
It seemed like just a minute ago he was still sitting in the classroom in History of Magic class, and in the blink of an eye he was walking into the Great Hall for lunch.
So where had the morning gone?
Where had those last few hours without a dragon attack gone?
Those people who came to the Gryffindor table to congratulate him made this symptom even worse, making Harry feel dizzy.
When Hermione stopped them, it was simply wonderful for him.
Otherwise, he suspected that on the way to being led to see the dragon, he would lose control and start casting spells at everyone he saw.
"Hermione, I think you're becoming more and more like Professor McGonagall," Ginny came over and said to her quietly.
As soon as she finished speaking, Professor McGonagall hurried toward them from the other end of the hall.
Her action drew the attention of everyone nearby.
"Holmes, Potter, the champions must go down to the grounds now... You must get ready to complete the first task. Professor Sprout has already taken Diggory there."
"Alright." Harry stood up as he spoke, and his fork fell into his plate with a clang.
As the other person at the center of the whirlwind, Sherlock remained calm from beginning to end.
He elegantly stuffed the last piece of steak into his mouth, then accepted the napkin Hermione handed him, wiped his mouth, and slowly stood up.
"Good luck, Sherlock," Hermione said quietly.
Ron, Neville, Dean, and others with good relationships also sent their blessings to the two.
At this moment, Cho Chang also ran over from the Ravenclaw table.
"Harry..." She looked at Harry and said softly, "Believe in yourself, you can do it."
Ginny said loudly, "Harry, go for it!"
"Okay, thank you." The encouragement from the two beautiful girls couldn't bring Harry back to normal. He felt his voice didn't even sound like his own anymore.
Professor McGonagall left the Great Hall with Sherlock and Harry together.
Sherlock noticed that Professor McGonagall also looked flustered.
In fact, she was just as anxious as Hermione.
It had to be said, Ginny was right just now.
Hermione and Professor McGonagall—the two were becoming more and more like each other.
She accompanied Sherlock and Harry down the stone steps and outside.
It was a cold November afternoon, and she placed her hands on Sherlock's and Harry's shoulders respectively.
"Alright, don't be nervous." She looked at Sherlock's gray eyes and Harry's green eyes and said slowly. "I hope you can keep your heads clear... We've arranged for some wizards to be nearby, and if things go badly, they'll step forward to control the situation... Most importantly, make full use of your abilities. No one will think you're inferior to anyone else... So, are you both alright?"
"We're fine, we're good." Harry heard Sherlock say, "Professor, you seem a bit nervous?"
"Of course I'm nervous! Merlin's beard, they actually prepared—" Professor McGonagall almost blurted it out but ultimately held to her bottom line. "Forget it, as long as you're both fine, let's go."
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