"Hermione, you're much more impatient than Harry. If it were him, he probably wouldn't ask me until we actually reached Diagon Alley."
Sherlock chuckled softly, then explained under Hermione's curious gaze.
"Including this time, I've only met the owner of the Leaky Cauldron three times—actually, my father knows him much better."
Sherlock went on to explain how his father often came to the Leaky Cauldron to chat and drink with the owner.
He also mentioned how he had helped the bar owner identify a short, fat man trying to skip out on his bill during his first visit last year.
"No wonder he said that..." Hermione showed a look of sudden understanding, then skillfully tapped the fixed brick with her wand.
While waiting for Diagon Alley to open, she posed another question.
"But how did you figure out he was going to skip out on his bill?"
Mr. Granger also asked curiously.
"I'd like to know that too—when you were talking to the owner just now, I was also observing him, but I couldn't see anything!"
Faced with the Grangers' questions, Sherlock showed just the right amount of surprise.
"Actually, it's quite simple. Can you really not see it?"
Hermione lightly patted Sherlock. "You're being mean~ The smug expression on your face has already given you away. Come on, tell us!"
Seeing her almost coquettish gesture, Mrs. Granger smiled with motherly affection.
Mr. Granger, however, looked rather displeased.
But his attention was quickly drawn to Sherlock's next words.
"Fine, I won't mention last year's incident. Since it was the second time I'd seen him, I deliberately observed him for a while longer.
I noticed that the third button on his coat had been resewn inside-out—this indicates an inner pocket originally designed for holding wizarding coins.
From his mud-stained boots under the table and their wear patterns, I could tell he'd been walking continuously for several days, covering dozens of miles. Yet the shoe surface was polished clean—this is typical 'dignity in poverty' behavior.
He kept flipping through the vegetarian pie pages, and when he saw the steak and kidney pie, his Adam's apple moved and his salivary glands secreted far more than his pupil constriction rate indicated.
Also, when he pretended to adjust his cufflinks, he repeatedly glanced at the exit behind the bar and the path leading away from his position.
Most importantly, I could tell he was a habitual thief."
"A habitual thief?"
"Yes, this type of person's demeanor is as obvious to me as ink on white paper—it's impossible to hide."
After hearing Sherlock's confident analysis, the Granger family looked at each other in amazement.
Hermione was relatively composed, having witnessed such things many times before. After the initial shock, she quickly adapted.
But her parents were different.
Even though they had heard Hermione describe Sherlock's abilities more than once, and Mr. Granger had even witnessed them a month ago, they still couldn't help feeling wave after wave of amazement.
"Hermione wasn't exaggerating at all. Dear Sherlock, you're absolutely wonderful!"
Only after recovering from her shock did Mrs. Granger show a genuinely heartfelt smile.
"No wonder you could determine our professions the first time you saw us last year."
Hermione puffed out her chest with pride upon hearing her mother's praise of Sherlock.
"But didn't the owner just say he brought money?" Mr. Granger asked skeptically, his voice slightly defiant. "Even so, you still think he would skip out on the bill?"
"A habitual thief is often also a liar. Without using magic, he has at least three methods to make the bar owner think 'he has money.' And once magic is involved..."
Sherlock shook his head without finishing his sentence.
But everyone understood his meaning—with magic's help, fraud would only become more convenient.
It seemed Tom had been fooled by him with high probability.
"Alright, dear, let's go in quickly!"
Seeing that Mr. Granger was about to ask more questions, Mrs. Granger pointed to Diagon Alley, which had now appeared before them, directly interrupting him.
Like the Leaky Cauldron, because it was peak season, Diagon Alley was completely different from the deserted scene Sherlock had encountered when he visited on Christmas Eve last year.
The streets were bustling with people coming and going, lively and crowded, with basically every shop having customers.
Popular shops like Quality Quidditch Supplies, Flourish and Blotts, and Scribbulus Writing Instruments were packed to capacity.
The group first went to Gringotts to exchange for wizarding currency.
After advancing to second year, both Sherlock and Hermione had increased limits on how much wizarding currency they could exchange annually.
Both families were well-off, so they naturally used up their entire allowances in one go.
Combined with the Galleons Sherlock had exchanged last Christmas in Harry and Ron's names, they had more than enough for shopping.
Next came the familiar shopping spree.
As second-year students, they needed to buy far fewer essential items than in their first year, mainly textbooks.
After all, items like wands, scales, cauldrons, and pets could mostly continue to be used.
Originally, Sherlock hadn't planned to purchase anything else.
But Mrs. Granger didn't agree.
"I don't want you to get lectured by Violet when you go back."
Mrs. Granger now found Sherlock absolutely delightful. "Both you and Hermione have grown, so you must get new clothes."
At her insistence, the group went to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and ordered new robes for both Sherlock and Hermione.
Additionally, since they had advanced to second year, this meant the restriction that had applied only to first-year students last year was now lifted.
They could finally bring their own broomsticks to school.
The staff at Quality Quidditch Supplies strongly recommended the latest product in the Nimbus series—the Nimbus 2001.
This was the upgraded model of Harry's Nimbus 2000, with significant improvements in both speed and stability.
Of course, the price had also improved significantly.
The clerk obviously recognized that these two young wizards were the type who weren't short on money, so he used his silver tongue to praise its benefits to the skies.
Even Mr. and Mrs. Granger were momentarily swayed by him.
Unfortunately, neither Sherlock nor Hermione had any such plans at the moment.
In the end, the clerk could only watch this family leave with regretful eyes.
After that, Sherlock and Hermione casually bought some quills, ink, and parchment at the stationery shop next to Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Next came the main event. textbooks.
Unfortunately, as Hermione had said, there were simply no second-hand copies of Gilderoy Lockhart's works available.
As a bestselling author, his books were already very popular, and people didn't plan to resell them even after reading them.
Even if some people were financially strapped and wanted to sell them for money, they were immediately snapped up.
On the other hand, this was the first time his books were being used as textbooks for magical schools, which further intensified this trend.
This meant they had no choice but to buy new books.
However, when they arrived at Flourish and Blotts, they were all startled by the spectacular scene before them.
The street outside the shop was packed with people, and from their appearance, every single one of them was desperate to squeeze inside.
If it was like this outside the bookstore, the situation inside was naturally even more intense.
"What's going on?" Mr. Granger expressed his inability to understand the scene. "Isn't this a bit too exaggerated?"
"I think that should be the reason." Sherlock pointed upward.
The Granger family followed Sherlock's gaze and saw a huge banner hanging on the second floor of the bookstore.
[Gilderoy Lockhart in person, signing copies of his autobiography "Magical Me"]
So that was it.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger suddenly understood.
This scene wasn't uncommon even in the Muggle world.
When popular celebrities held fan meetings, the scenes could be even crazier than this.
However, looking carefully, it wasn't hard to notice that most of the crowd consisted of witches about Mrs. Granger's age.
Two wizards stood at the entrance maintaining order, their faces exhausted. Even though they were using Sonorus charms, their voices were clearly hoarse.
"Ladies, please be quiet... don't crowd... don't push... mind the books... be careful..."
However, this wasn't having much effect.
The enthusiastic fans pushed them around, making them like a small boat in a vast ocean, ready to capsize at any moment.
Many witches were even using their wands to create sounds similar to gongs, drums, and firecrackers.
Without exaggeration, the scene was truly filled with the sound of gongs and drums, firecrackers going off, red flags waving, and crowds of people—a sea of humanity.
It was quite lively indeed.
Seeing this scene, Hermione was also infected by the excitement and couldn't help but exclaim.
"Wonderful! This time we can meet him in person!"
When she noticed Sherlock's somewhat surprised look, her voice quieted down.
"I mean... almost all the books on our list are written by him. It's so rare to get a chance to meet him!"
"Indeed, it's quite rare."
Sherlock looked thoughtful.
The curving queue stretched from the entrance all the way to the back of the bookstore, where they could vaguely see someone in blue robes sitting there.
Most likely, that was Gilderoy Lockhart himself signing books.
In that moment, Sherlock developed some interest in this bestselling author.
But looking at the crowded stream of people, he frowned slightly.
"By the time it's our turn, it'll probably be afternoon."
Seeing this situation, Mr. Granger was also irritated. "Should we come back in a few days?"
"No!"
"No!"
Mrs. Granger and Hermione spoke simultaneously, startling Mr. Granger.
"We finally get a chance to meet him—how can we leave now? Mr. Lockhart might not personally appear for book signings next time!"
"Yes, if this Mr. Lockhart is so popular, there must be a good reason—dear, I'd also like to see what he looks like."
Mr. Granger. (ー`ー)
Hearing both his wife and daughter say this, Mr. Granger immediately felt inexplicably angry.
Are you kidding me?
It was one thing for his daughter to be like this, but how had his wife changed too?
Gilderoy Lockhart?
He's just a novelist—what does he know about real adventure!
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