Though Sherlock noticed Hermione's slightly flushed face, he paid it no mind and continued his deduction:
"Netherland's tulips are world-renowned, and many of its cities have vast expanses of flower fields. Pollen drifts everywhere, and the surrounding air is permeated with this fragrance for long periods. Anyone who spends even a short time there will carry the scent for days afterward, and its difficult to wash away.
The faint floral fragrance on you is elegant and subtle, truly impressive. Just like before, since you still haven't used magic to remove it, this makes my deduction quite simple. I must say, the restriction preventing young wizards from using magic outside school has made my reasoning process much easier."
Under Hermione's astonished gaze, Sherlock pointed to the small box she had just pressed onto the table:
"Though the metal nameplate on this box is somewhat worn, I happen to recognize it. This is a distinctive luggage identification tag used on cargo ships traveling between Antwerp, Belgium and Rotterdam, Netherlands. Passengers taking the limited passenger accommodations on these cargo vessels receive such tags to mark their belongings.
Also, the small commemorative pin hanging from the zipper bears a design combining the architectural silhouette of Brussels' Grand Place with a simple sketch of Dutch windmills. These pins are specially made by local merchants to attract tourists and commemorate their cross-border journey—visitors buy them as mementos of having visited both places.
Combining all this information, even without your saying a word, I can definitively conclude you visited one of these two locations."
As Sherlock's analysis unfolded with seamless precision, Hermione's initial anger had completely evaporated. The shock on her face gradually transformed into admiring amazement.
"Brilliant as always, Sherlock!" she said with genuine admiration. "Though I knew you'd figure it out, you still manage to leave me absolutely stunned every time. It's strange—before you explain, these things seem utterly impossible to deduce, but once you've laid it out, it all seems so perfectly obvious."
She couldn't help but laugh at herself, having said these exact words many times before. Shaking her head helplessly, Hermione's expression softened into a smile:
"Anyway, you got it right. I did go to Netherlands this time, and spent quite a while wandering through the flower fields—oh, and this is for you."
Hermione approached the table and began rummaging through her box. Though not large, it was packed with items and appeared rather cluttered. After a moment, she retrieved a beautifully wrapped small box bearing traditional Dutch windmill patterns in bright, vibrant colors.
Sherlock glanced at it and chuckled. Had he seen this box earlier, he could have immediately determined where Hermione had traveled.
"I know you enjoy investigating curious objects, and after the Greek Translator case, you mentioned wanting to learn about astronomy," Hermione said, opening the box and taking out the gift she'd prepared. "I happened to find this in an antique shop in Amsterdam. It's supposedly a small astronomical instrument used by 17th-century Dutch navigators to measure celestial positions. Though it's quite old, it's remarkably well-preserved—all the parts still move smoothly. I thought you might discover something interesting about its mysteries."
Sherlock accepted the astronomical instrument, his fingers gently touching the scales and knobs as surprise flickered in his eyes. Hermione caught this expression, a familiar smile appeared at her lips with a hint of pride and mischief. This gift was perfect for someone who only know "the Earth revolves around the Sun."
After her initial delight, she suddenly remembered why she'd come. Wait—she'd been here to confront this fellow about not writing to her proactively! How had the situation turned into this? And when she'd entered, he'd still been absorbed with that toad, as if she mattered less than an amphibian. The thought was infuriating.
But now she'd already given him the gift, effectively letting the matter slide. Getting angry now would seem like she was picking a fight, and emotionally, the moment had passed...
Deciding to investigate what could be so fascinating that Sherlock couldn't spare time to write her a letter, she walked over to the workbench. However,...
Hermione: (|||Д)…(×﹏×)⌒●~*
One glance was enough—she quickly looked away, afraid she might vomit if she continued staring.
Really...
Hermione couldn't find words to describe her current feelings. Forcing herself to remain calm, curiosity still forced her to ask:
"Sherlock, why are you dissecting toads?"
"Comparing differences between Muggle and magical creatures."
Sherlock glanced at Hermione, noting the clear bewilderment in her gaze, and explained:
"The magical world has many creatures kept as pets by wizards. Some exist only in the magical world—Pygmy Puffs, phoenixes, Kneazles. But others are common to both magical and Muggle worlds—owls, cats, rats, toads.
These animals have ordinary counterparts in the Muggle world, yet their behaviors differ significantly. Muggle owls don't deliver mail, for instance—though we now know this is due to magic, but..."
Excitement gleamed in Sherlock's eyes, "By dissecting both types of toads, I hope to identify key differences in physiology, magical energy storage, and utilization between magical and Muggle specimens. If successful, this could bridge the knowledge systems of both worlds, making it easier to handle magical incidents involving Muggles, and vice versa."
During the previous school year, Sherlock had handled several cases of increasing complexity, gradually feeling the strain. The main issue was that science and magic were completely different systems. Fortunately, his deductive method remained effective—it just required integrating knowledge from both systems.
Hermione's interest was piqued, "Have you discovered anything?"
Sherlock nodded, "So far, magical and Muggle toads appear physiologically identical. The toad livers and tadpoles we use in Potions class are taken directly from ordinary toads. This indicates they're biologically the same species, though their roles and symbolic meanings in magical society differ significantly."
"What are the differences?" Hermione pressed.
"Mainly in magical empowerment. Take Neville's pet Trevor—its frequent escaping behavior is interpreted by magizoologists as 'natural resistance to contract magic.'"
Hermione nodded. "That's indeed what it says in the annotations of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."
"However, Muggle biology simply views this behavior as normal animal stress response. Also," Sherlock picked up a toad, "in Diagon Alley, pet toads cost only a few Galleons—seemingly much cheaper than owls or cats. But in Muggle pet shops, the same toad costs less than one pound. This dramatic price increase stems from demand driven by the magical world's potion-making needs."
Sherlock then compared magical and Muggle toads across various aspects: pet functionality, legal status, danger levels, and more. Hermione listened intently while taking notes with her ever-present quill.
When Sherlock mentioned discovering identical physiological structures only after dissecting both types, Hermione suddenly had a horrifying thought.
"Wait, Sherlock, hold on!" She looked at him carefully. "Where did you get the magical toad you dissected? You didn't take Neville's toad and..."
"Hermione, what are you thinking?" Sherlock looked somewhat helpless at her shocked expression. "What kind of person do you take me for? How could I possibly dissect a classmate's pet?"
Hermione sighed with relief. Good, she'd misjudged him this time.
Just as this thought formed, Sherlock continued: "I found it."
"Found it? Where?"
"Last time when we fought Flint, I picked it up from the grass nearby."
Hermione: (╬◣д◢)
'I knew it! Typical of you! I wasn't wrong about you at all!'
Still, Flint was hardly comparable to Neville. After a moment of speechlessness, Hermione decided not to dwell on it. Fine, if he said he "found" it, then he found it.
After chatting more with Sherlock, with Hermione excitedly sharing her Dutch experiences, they gradually recaptured their familiar dynamic.
"Speaking of which, you not writing to me proactively is bad enough..." Hermione glared at Sherlock, who showed no reaction to her expression, so she continued with a pout: "Harry's even worse—I write to him and he doesn't reply... Ron does write frequently, but it's always about summer homework..."
Hermione sighed deeply. Sherlock never seemed to understand the concept of "taking initiative." You write to him, he replies. You don't write, he doesn't respond. It felt like he was passive, non-committal, and irresponsible.
Sherlock was bad enough, but Harry was worse. After some initial contact in the first few days, she'd sent five letters with no responses. 'How superior and aloof of you!'
The only one who contacted her proactively was Ron, but within three sentences he'd reveal his true nature—Let me copy your homework!
She had exactly three good friends at Hogwarts, and they were all like this... It was exhausting!
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