Chapter 15: Who Is the Outsider?

In 1987, a new type of bitmap file called the GIF format was born. This innovative format enabled the display of dynamic images, much like the moving portraits found in chocolate frogs. In 1989, the GIF format was updated to truly support animation. In this regard, it was even more advanced than the portraits in the magical world.

Sherlock’s explanation left Harry and Ron once again astonished by his vast knowledge. They exchanged a glance, feeling that this fellow first-year seemed to know everything. This was just a small episode.

In any case, the chocolate frogs not only gave Sherlock and Harry cards of Dumbledore, but after trading, they also obtained cards of Morgana, Hangis, Abraxas, Serth, Paracelsus, and Merlin. Their luck was extraordinary—each of them had even drawn an ultra-rare SSR card.

These rare cards featured Zou Yan and Kong Bo from China. Zou Yan was a famous alchemist active during the 4th century BCE, in the Warring States period. Kong Bo was a 15th-century fire dragon expert who discovered the uses of Chinese fireball dragon egg powder.

Ron was very envious. These cards were hard currency among Hogwarts students; some rare cards could even be traded for a week’s worth of homework. His own Kong Bo card had been a gift from his older brother Charlie, who studied fire dragons in Romania. As for the Zou Yan card, it had been taken by his brother to trade.

Upon hearing this, Sherlock wore a thoughtful expression. It seemed that, in this respect, magic school was not so different from ordinary schools.

Next, Ron issued a warning to Sherlock and Harry about another type of candy—the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. “Every flavor” was meant literally; they contained every conceivable taste. Not only traditional flavors like chocolate, peppermint, and marmalade, but also non-edible ones such as leather, paint, and dirt. Worse still, one might encounter intensely unpleasant flavors like snot, earwax, feces, urine, or worse.

Sherlock pondered briefly and realized that with technological advances, the non-magical world could achieve similar effects—but there was no real need for it.

That said, through his conversation with Ron, he found the intertwining of magic and science genuinely fascinating.

Just as Harry mustered the courage to try licking one of the strange gray beans that even Ron dared not touch, the compartment door opened once again.

This time, three boys appeared before Sherlock. The one in the middle had pale golden, nearly white hair, with well-defined features and handsome looks, though his complexion was somewhat pale. Flanking him were two stout boys, one tall and one short, both plain-faced but robust. They subtly formed a protective barrier around the boy, like his bodyguards.

Against their backdrop, the pale-faced boy appeared especially striking, his pallor lending a certain morbid beauty. Even Sherlock felt outshone by his appearance.

Sherlock glanced once and immediately guessed their identity—the Malfoy family.

Like the Weasleys, hair color was a family trait. The Weasleys had red hair; the Malfoys had platinum blonde. Both families were among the sacred twenty-eight pure-blood families.

At this moment, Sherlock was not the only one who recognized the Malfoys.

Noticing Harry and Ron’s gazes, Sherlock looked at Harry in surprise. “You know him?”

It was no surprise that Ron recognized Malfoy—they were from rival families, after all. But Harry should not have any connection with him.

Harry was a little puzzled too. He didn’t understand how Sherlock could tell, but he nodded. He indeed recognized the pale, platinum-haired boy. They had crossed paths once briefly when Harry had ordered robes at Madam Malkin’s in Diagon Alley. Harry’s impression was poor because the boy had spoken arrogantly and looked down on Hagrid, who was Harry’s very first true friend over the years.

The pale boy had already spoken. “Everyone on the train is talking. They say Harry Potter is in this compartment.”

Obviously, he recognized Harry from their previous encounter and was now watching him with far greater interest than before. “So, that’s you, isn’t it?”

Harry nodded instinctively.

Since the boy was an acquaintance of Harry’s, Sherlock decided not to intervene. Yet, after scanning the compartment, the boy’s gaze settled on Sherlock, and he sneered: “I never thought the famous Harry Potter would sit with a stinky Mudblood. How disappointing!”

Ron’s expression immediately darkened.

Malfoy continued his introduction: “My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy; these are Crabbe and Goyle. I’m here to—”

Before he could finish, a cold laugh interrupted him—it was Ron’s.

Malfoy snapped his head toward Ron, his eyes fixed with undisguised contempt. “You find that funny, do you? No need to ask who you are—red hair, worn robes, freckles all over, with so many kids they can’t afford to raise them. My father told me the Weasley family is like that. A pure-blood disgrace.”

Ron was instantly furious.

Although Sherlock had just made similar remarks, when the same words came from Malfoy’s mouth, the effect was entirely different. Ron guessed it was because Sherlock spoke in a neutral tone, merely stating facts, while Malfoy’s words were purely mocking.

Before Ron could fully unleash his anger, Malfoy turned back to Harry, forcing a smile and extending a hand. “You’ll soon find some wizarding families are far better than others, Potter. You wouldn’t want to befriend the odd ones... or lowly Mudbloods, would you? I can help you with that.”

It was clear Malfoy was attempting to ingratiate himself with Harry. Unfortunately, his upbringing made his gestures laden with haughty arrogance and swagger. Where Hermione’s pride was spoken, his was worn on his face.

More importantly, he demeaned Harry’s two new friends.

Thus, his goodwill was doomed from the start.

Harry, already unimpressed with him, naturally did not indulge Malfoy, replying coldly, “No thanks. I think I can tell who the odd ones are myself.”

Malfoy’s smile froze. Being openly rebuffed, a faint blush crept over his pale face. He withdrew his hand, speaking slowly, “Potter, if I were you, I’d be very careful. Otherwise, you’ll end up like your parents. They were foolish enough to associate with riffraff like the Weasleys and Hagrid, and it affected them.”

No sooner had Malfoy finished than Harry stood up. Ron followed without hesitation, his face as red as his hair.