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In 1987, a bitmap file format called GIF was born.
This new format enabled dynamic image display, effectively achieving the same result as the moving portraits on the Chocolate Frog cards.
In 1989, the GIF format underwent an update, truly realizing animation capabilities.
In this aspect alone, it was even more advanced than the portraits in the magical world.
Sherlock's explanation once again astonished Harry and Ron with his vast knowledge.
They exchanged glances, feeling that this first-year classmate seemed to know everything.
This was just a small interlude.
In any case, thanks to the Chocolate Frogs, Sherlock and Harry not only had Dumbledore but, after trading, also acquired cards of Morgana, Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin.
Their luck was incredible; they even each pulled an SSR rare card.
Zou Yan and Gong Bo from China.
The former was active in the 4th century B.C., during the Warring States period, a famous alchemist.
The latter was a dragonologist from the 15th century A.D. who discovered the uses of powdered Chinese Fireball dragon eggs.
Ron was very envious.
Because these cards were hard currency among Hogwarts students; some rare cards could even be exchanged for a week's worth of homework.
His own Gong Bo card was a gift from his second brother, Charlie, who researched dragons in Romania.
As for Zou Yan, his card had been taken by his older brother for a trade.
Sherlock listened with a thoughtful expression.
It seemed that in this regard, magical schools were quite similar to ordinary schools.
Next, Ron warned Sherlock and Harry about another snack: Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans.
"Every-flavour" truly meant every flavour; all sorts of tastes were included.
Not only traditional candy flavours like chocolate, peppermint, and marmalade, but also non-food tastes like leather, paint, and dirt.
Even worse, one might encounter stimulating flavours like boogers, earwax, or even bodily waste.
Sherlock pondered briefly and felt that with technological advancement, the non-magical world could actually achieve this too.
But there was really no need.
However, speaking of which, he found the intersection of magic and science truly fascinating through his conversation with Ron.
Just as Harry mustered the courage to lick a strange grey bean that even Ron wouldn't touch, the compartment door slid open again.
This time, three boys appeared before Sherlock.
The one in the middle had pale blond hair, regular features, a pointed chin, and a slightly pale complexion.
Beside him stood two unattractive, stout boys, one tall and one short. Though not good-looking, they were quite burly.
The two flanked the boy, almost like bodyguards.
Contrasted by them, the boy actually looked rather handsome; even his pale complexion didn't make him seem too sickly.
He also had grey eyes, just like Sherlock.
Sherlock only needed one glance to guess his identity.
The Malfoy family.
Like the Weasleys, hair color was also a Malfoy family trait.
Except the former was red, and the latter was pale blond.
Simultaneously, the Malfoy family, like the Weasleys, belonged to the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families.
However, Sherlock wasn't the only one who recognized Malfoy this time.
Noticing Harry and Ron's expressions, Sherlock was slightly surprised. He looked at Harry:
"You know him?"
It wasn't strange for Ron to know Malfoy, given they were both from established wizarding families.
But Harry shouldn't have had any interaction with him.
Harry was also a bit confused at this moment.
He didn't understand how Sherlock had noticed, but he nodded nonetheless.
He did indeed recognize the pale boy with pale blond hair.
They had met once before when getting robes fitted at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions in Diagon Alley.
Harry hadn't had a good impression of him then either, because he spoke arrogantly and looked down on Hagrid.
Hagrid was, in the truest sense, the first friend Harry had made in years.
By now, the boy had spoken, "Is it true? They're saying all the way down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment."
Clearly, he also recognized Harry from their previous encounter and was now eyeing him with much greater interest than in Diagon Alley:
"So it's you, is it?"
Harry nodded subconsciously.
Since the boy was an acquaintance of Harry's, Sherlock didn't plan to intervene.
Who knew that after scanning the compartment, the boy's gaze would land on him, and he would say contemptuously:
"Didn't expect the famous Harry Potter to be sitting with stinking Mudbloods. What a pity!"
Ron's face changed instantly.
Malfoy continued his introduction:
"My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle. I came here to..."
Before he could finish, he heard a snort of laughter.
It came from Ron.
Malfoy immediately turned, his eyes fixing on Ron, his disgust unconcealed:
"Think my name's funny, do you?
No need to ask who you are. Red hair, hand-me-down robes, freckles all over your face, and more children than you can afford.
My father told me all the Weasleys are like that, practically a disgrace to pure-bloods."
Ron instantly became furious.
Although Sherlock had said similar things just moments ago, the same words coming from Malfoy felt entirely different.
Ron thought about it and figured it was because Sherlock had stated the facts about his old robes and wand in an emotionless tone, simply describing objective reality.
But Malfoy was purely mocking him.
However, before Ron's anger could erupt, Malfoy turned back to Harry, forcing a smile, and extended a hand towards him:
"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter.
You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort... or lowly Mudbloods, do you?
I can help you there."
It was clear Malfoy was trying hard to show goodwill towards Harry.
Unfortunately, the upbringing he had received meant that even when trying to be friendly, he still exuded an air of condescending arrogance and swagger.
If Hermione's arrogance was in her words, his was written all over his face.
More importantly, he had insulted the two new friends Harry had just made.
So his attempt at friendship was doomed to fail.
Harry, who already had a poor impression of him, naturally didn't indulge him under these circumstances and said coldly:
"No thanks. I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself."
Malfoy's smile froze.
Being rejected to his face, a faint blush spread across his pale cheeks.
He withdrew the hand left hanging in mid-air and said slowly:
"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents.
They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."
The moment Malfoy finished speaking, Harry immediately stood up.
Ron stood up without a second thought as well, his face now as red as his hair.
(End of Chapter)