Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts

Seeing the man and hearing Harry's words, Sherlock wasn't surprised at all.

"I knew it was him."

Under Harry's astonished gaze, Sherlock strode up to the man.

Looking at the face that was both familiar and strange, Sherlock asked impolitely:

"What are you doing here?"

"Just showing my concern for you, as always."

"Thanks, I think I've received your concern."

Despite not having the height advantage, Sherlock's aura didn't falter in the slightest when facing this man.

Even though he had to look up at the other person while speaking.

"You're as overbearing as ever – have you never considered that we're on the same side?"

"Strangely enough," Sherlock tilted his head, as if thinking for a moment, and then gave a negative answer, "No."

"We have more in common than you can imagine; compared to that, our little grievances are just child's play."

Hearing Sherlock's answer, the man frowned and said earnestly:

"But someone will be upset because of this – you know very well that this will worry our parents."

Originally impolite, Sherlock's eyes instantly sharpened when he heard this sentence:

"Who exactly is making them worry? Me?

I think you need to understand that they're never worried about me, Mycroft!"

When Sherlock said this, Harry was stunned.

"Wait, stop, hold on a second!"

Harry hurried forward and stood beside the two.

He looked at Sherlock, then at the man Sherlock called Mycroft, and asked cautiously:

"What you said about parents – whose parents?"

"Our mom and dad."

The two turned their heads simultaneously, their eyebrow-raising movements like mirror images, causing the shocked Harry to take half a step back involuntarily.

Sherlock suddenly chuckled:

"Harry, this is my brother, Mycroft Holmes."

After saying this, he looked up again, "Heh – you've gotten fat again."

Mycroft still frowned: "On the contrary, I'm bulking up."

He didn't think his younger brother couldn't see that.

Obviously, he was saying it on purpose.

Harry looked incredulous: "Brother! You said brother? Is he really your brother?"

"Of course, he's my brother!"

Sherlock seemed a little impatient, and his tone became rough.

"But he's not—"

"Not what?"

"I don't know how to say it," Harry hesitated, and said tentatively, "The mastermind?"

"Ha!"

Sherlock couldn't help but laugh, and he was happy to hear Harry say that, "Well said, my friend, close enough."

Mycroft also laughed, but it was out of anger:

"Oh, my God, I'm just an ordinary college student."

"Do you mean ordinary as in you're already working for the British government before you've even graduated?"

Sherlock said coldly, turning to Harry, not forgetting to explain:

"If he weren't always doing odd jobs in his spare time, he'd probably be a member of the Queen's government as soon as he graduated."

The two's conversation completely stunned Harry.

He never expected that the person who claimed to be Sherlock's nemesis would actually be his own brother.

Even more unexpectedly, this brother of his sounded so powerful!

The two brothers began to argue fiercely right at the doorstep.

Neither side was willing to give in, and Harry, caught between the two, felt weak and helpless.

Just then, the door suddenly creaked, and Mrs. Holmes poked her head out, looking at the two:

"Children, are you arguing?"

"No!"

"Impossible!"

The two spoke in unison and then frowned at the same time.

After instantly taking three steps back to create distance, Sherlock quickly retracted his hand, while Mycroft casually adjusted the angle of his tie.

"Tea is in the study."

Mycroft's umbrella pointed to the mud on Harry's heel, "Remember to tell Coach Moran that his anti-slip wax formula needs to be updated, unless he wants to train all his members to be geologists – after all, not everyone can harvest sandstone samples from wrestling."

As he turned, the hem of his coat swept across Sherlock's trouser leg, "Keep up, brother, unless you want me to tell Mother that you dismantled her Victorian samovar again."

Sherlock gritted his teeth and sneered: "Harry, remember to never bet with people who are like bureaucrats – they even record how many raisins you ate for breakfast."

Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were very happy to have their eldest son home.

Through Mr. Holmes' introduction, Harry and Ron were also surprised to learn that Sherlock was not an only child, but also had an older brother.

Mycroft Holmes was seven years older than Sherlock, and their grandfather was a generational country squire.

When Sherlock was four years old, the entire Holmes family traveled to Montpellier, France, where they stayed for two whole years.

Mrs. Holmes learned French cuisine at that time.

"What, so we've been eating French food all this time?"

Ron looked very surprised.

"Mr. Ronald, wouldn't you know? The best restaurants in England are French restaurants."

Mycroft smiled as he fiddled with the black umbrella in his right hand, looking at Ron.

Ron: "..."

He only cared about eating and didn't know anything about this.

"After leaving France, we went to Rotterdam in the Netherlands, and then settled in Cologne, Germany, for a while."

Mycroft took over Mr. Holmes' words and continued to state.

"Sherlock entered a boarding aristocratic school at the age of seven, and the family also hired a tutor for him.

Boxing, fencing, and violin were all learned at that stage, and it must be said that my dear brother is indeed gifted in this regard."

Sherlock hummed, while Harry and Ron looked at each other.

They now knew that their good friend had a very rich experience.

As an Englishman, he had already been to France, the Netherlands, and Germany at the young age of seven.

Thinking about their seven years old selves, one was enduring his cousin's bullying in a dark and sunless cupboard, and the other was enviously watching his brothers play Quidditch on the grass.

We are different!

"Just last year, Sherlock was seriously ill.

Originally, we wanted him to go to Yorkshire after he recovered and enter a preparatory school as a day student.

Unexpectedly, he received an admission letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

You know the rest."

After a brief silence, Ron couldn't help but ask:

"So, Mr. Mycroft, are you also a wizard?"

Hearing Ron's question, Mycroft gave him a smile: "What do you think?"

Mycroft didn't stay at home for too long.

He left after only eating one meal, without even staying for a night.

It was said that he was very busy.

But Harry and Ron really didn't understand, what could a 19-year-old college student be busy with?

Shouldn't this be the most relaxing stage of life?

"You don't have to worry about him," Sherlock said lightly when asked by Harry and Ron, "He's always been like this."

"Sherlock, your relationship with your brother doesn't seem good?"

"That guy has his own set of rules, and he always wants me to live a so-called 'normal' life, which is exactly what I don't like – you know very well that what I pursue has always been freedom and excitement."

"So, is he a wizard or not?"

"Of course not."

"Then did your aunt and uncle tell him about you going to Hogwarts and about me and Ron?"

Hearing this question, a complex look appeared on Sherlock's face: "No, never."

"Then how did he—"

"Maybe you won't believe it, but he's indeed better than me at observation and reasoning."

Sherlock said calmly, "Half of my first year at Hogwarts has passed, and that's enough time for him to make inferences.

In fact, he didn't start contacting you until Christmas, which is later than I expected.

It seems that the magical world is not entirely useless – at least it has hindered him to some extent in some ways."

"What did you say?"

Hearing Sherlock's praise for Mycroft, Harry and Ron were immediately stunned.

The two knew Sherlock's skills very well, but now he was saying that Mycroft was even better than him?

Was he even human?

"Harry, do you remember what happened when we met outside before?

As soon as he met, he said that we had been practicing boxing, and that you had fallen."

Reminded by Sherlock, Harry remembered that there was such a thing.

Mainly because he was too surprised when he heard Mycroft's voice just now, and he had overlooked this point.

"Isn't this your mother—"

As soon as Harry said this, he felt like he had done something stupid again.

Mrs. Holmes could certainly tell Mycroft that they went to morning exercises, but she couldn't possibly know that they were practicing boxing or that he had fallen.

"Of course not!"

Sherlock shook his head, "First of all, our clothes are loose sportswear and sneakers, obviously not for a leisurely stroll.

Secondly, there are slight red marks on my wrist, and he can definitely see that those are the marks left by the boxing glove straps.

I bet he even noticed the direction of the wristband buckle – I only just thought of this.

And you, my dear Harry, you must not have noticed the rolled-up cuffs of your elbows, and the rough fibrous edges are sticking to a few grains of quartz sand.

In all of London, only the boxing ring in the back alley of St. Bartholomew's Hospital uses this mixed gravel to pave the ground, so he mentioned Coach Moran at the end.

The wear on your left heel is abnormal, and the outside is covered with a团状mud印, only a single-foot drag after a loss of balance will form this spiral pattern, coupled with a stiff gait when walking, it is enough to prove that you suffered a slight sprain when you fell.

Finally, the sweat beads that you didn't have time to wipe off behind your neck and the frequency that is 0.3 seconds faster than normal breathing are the physical signs of regular exercise for more than half an hour.

Through these details, it is more than enough for him to infer the whole thing."

Sherlock's words stunned Harry and Ron.

"Funnily enough, when I received the admission letter last summer, I also thought it was a prank by that guy, but I wronged him."

Speaking of this, Sherlock also laughed, but he frowned immediately.

He didn't tell his two friends that through Mycroft's behavior today, he vaguely had a guess.

That is, Mycroft knew about the existence of magic, possibly even earlier than him.