Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 360 Father, Son, Husband, Wife, Brothers
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes."

Harry did not refuse Mr. Holmes's invitation to ride with him and readily agreed.

On the one hand, there's really no need to be polite with good friends.

If you're too polite, it means you're treating your good friend like an outsider.

On the other hand, it's because they don't want to see a gentle and kind woman sad.

Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge always liked to tell Harry, "You know me," but in reality, Harry didn't know him at all.

Harry truly understood the Holmes family.

He knew very well that if he refused under these circumstances, Mrs. Holmes would be heartbroken.

Sure enough, seeing Harry readily agree, Mrs. Holmes's initial disappointment at not being able to visit her during the holiday was somewhat relieved.

This is true for the vast majority of women; their emotional understanding outweighs their rational understanding.

Sirius Black, as a pure-blood wizard, is different from Mr. Weasley, who is also a pure-blood wizard.

Mr. Weasley was thrilled to see the Muggle car. After getting in, he touched and looked at it from all angles, asking many questions.

After Sirius got into the car, he appeared elegant, calm, and composed.

Sitting in the passenger seat, he had originally planned to give Mr. Holmes directions, but unexpectedly, Mr. Holmes knew the location of Grimmauld Place better than he did and took a shortcut that even he didn't know about.

This area is located in the northwest corner of London, in a Muggle neighborhood.

It's only a 20-minute walk from King's Cross Station, even closer than Sherlock's house.

It would be located in a prime, extremely valuable location in London.

Therefore, if there is no traffic jam, it should only take five or six minutes to get there.

Unfortunately, traffic jams are inevitable in central London.

So by the time they arrived at their destination, ten minutes had already passed.

Once Mr. Holmes had brought the car to a stop, all five men got out.

Sirius Black pointed to the townhouse in front of them and said to the Holmes family:
"This is it, number 12 Grimmauld Place—this house has been vacant for a long time and is not suitable for entertaining guests at the moment, so please do not come in."

Hearing Sirius's explanation, Mrs. Holmes nodded: "Not at all, Mr. Black and Harry have been apart for a long time, they should have a good get-together."

Mr. Holmes glanced at the townhouse again and paused slightly.

However, this look of surprise vanished in an instant, and no one else noticed it except Sherlock.

Sherlock took in his father's expression and observed the crowd nearby for a moment before understanding the situation.

“Varita is right, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future—our home isn’t far from here, we can come anytime,” Mr. Holmes said.

Mrs. Holmes turned to Harry: "Harry, you can come over anytime you're free. You know how to get to our house."

Harry nodded emphatically, and at that moment, he once again deeply felt the kindness that the Holmes couple had shown him.

He had already decided that once the place was tidied up, he would have Sirius invite all his friends over for a party.

He used to envy Dudley when he did that.

Unfortunately, he had neither friends nor a home at that time.

Now that we have these conditions, we must give it a try.

As for the room not being cleaned, it's not a big deal to me at all.

During his years with the Dursleys, he may not have learned much else, but he certainly did a lot of cleaning and wiping chores.

Although the house in front of me does look very big and spacious, I could definitely clean it thoroughly in a week, or at most ten days.

Just then, Sirius's words interrupted his thoughts:

"Harry, your good friend's parents are so good to you!"

"Yes, they really treat me like another son."

Sirius smiled upon hearing Harry's words:
"What you're saying reminds me of something from the past..."

I left here when I was sixteen and moved in with your father.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

“That was a really happy time… The Potters treated me like a second son… just like your good friend’s parents did for you.”

Upon hearing this, Harry couldn't help but puff out his chest proudly.

The similar experience made him feel that the distance between himself and his godfather had been reduced considerably.

"Speaking of which, they not only treated you very well, but that father of yours was also a remarkable Muggle!"

Sirius remarked with considerable emotion, "Especially compared to your other Muggle-born friend Hermione, he's far more perceptive than that dentist."

Harry wasn't surprised at all when Sirius said that.

Although Sherlock kept emphasizing that anyone could do what he did with serious training.

However, Harry knew in his heart that having talent and not having talent were still different.

No matter how much others train, they can't reach the level of Sherlock and Mycroft.

How could someone who could father sons like Mycroft and Sherlock be an ordinary person?

However, he was more curious about something else.

"Godfather, how did you figure that out? Today was only the first time you met them, wasn't it?"

"12 Grimoire Place"

Sirius smiled with satisfaction when he heard Harry address him, then pointed ahead, indicating that Harry should look ahead.

"Although this is a Muggle neighborhood, Muggles cannot see this house."

They had even grown accustomed to the ridiculous mistake of number 11 next to number 13 in Grimmauld Place.

After Sirius pointed it out, Harry realized, "So, in the eyes of Muggles, there's nothing here, just like the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Yes, my mother, Walbuga, used to be the owner here. When she lived here, she was disgusted by anyone who wasn't of pure blood stepping into her house."

My father took all the precautions known throughout the wizarding world to keep it secret, so the house couldn't be marked on a map, and no Muggles in the neighborhood could possibly visit it—as if anyone wanted to.

Sirius said with a cold laugh:

“If it weren’t for you, Harry, I would never have imagined that I would come back here one day.”

Although this place is terrible, at least it provides us with a place to stay.

Besides, it's very close to your good friend's house, which is probably the only contribution the Blake family can make to you.

Sensing the deep disgust in Sirius's tone, Harry was momentarily at a loss for words.

"However... Mr. Holmes's reaction when I mentioned 12 Grimmauld Place was quite interesting."

Just then, Sirius Black changed the subject and started talking about Mr. Holmes again:
"As a Muggle, he should be very surprised."

"Should I have acted more surprised—as a Muggle?"

On his drive back to Kensington and Chelsea, Mr. Holmes found everything he had just witnessed quite amusing:
"As far as I know, no one has ever been surprised that numbers 11 and 13 in Grimmauld Place are right next to each other. It is clearly illogical, but they all seem to be used to it."

Even I hadn't thought about this before you entered this magic school.

It wasn't until Mr. Blake mentioned it that I realized it was probably like the Leaky Cauldron, with some kind of magical spell set up to keep us hidden?

“Yes, it’s obviously been enchanted there, but Dad doesn’t need to pretend he doesn’t know. He found it, so he found it.” “Yeah, how come I didn’t notice? Number 11 is right next to number 13, there’s no number 12 at all.”

Compared to the Holmes father and son, Mrs. Holmes, sitting in the back row, was a bit slow to react.

It was only when she overheard her husband and son discussing this that she realized what had happened.

Holmes and his son couldn't help but smile at the same time.

"Father, I think you've already figured out Harry's identity as his godfather, haven't you?"

"Yes, Sirius Black. The name and appearance match up. He's the wanted criminal from before the start of the school year."

"what?"

Hearing her husband and son's conversation, Mrs. Holmes was instantly unsettled.

"How can we let a wanted criminal be Harry's godfather? No way! Absolutely not!"
"Tanan, let's drive back immediately and bring Harry back!"

"Calm down, Varita."

Faced with his agitated wife, Mr. Holmes, without turning his head, began skillfully persuading her:

“Since Sherlock and Harry both agree with Mr. Black, there must have been a misunderstanding before—I discovered that his wanted poster has been withdrawn.”

"That's why the wizarding world misunderstood Harry's godfather, thinking he was the murderer who killed Harry's parents."

Sherlock stated succinctly, "The real murderer is someone else; he has been wrongly accused all along."

"Sure enough."

Mr. Holmes nodded and continued to persuade him:
“Varita, I think you can also sense that Mr. Black’s love for Harry is genuine, and there’s no way to fake it.”

After hearing her husband and son's explanation, Mrs. Holmes thought for a moment and finally felt relieved.

Just as her husband said, you can't hide the look in someone's eyes when they love them.

Although they hadn't known each other for long, it was clear that Sirius's feelings for Harry were genuine and pure.

"As long as he genuinely cares about Harry, that's fine."

"There's no doubt about that, Mom."

"Sherlock, tell me and your mother this story."

I'm curious why someone like Harry's godfather would become a criminal wanted by both the wizarding and Muggle worlds.

And how did you help him clear his name—I think you must be the one who discovered the truth, right?

"It's down."

Sherlock said proudly, "It all started twelve years ago..."

After Sherlock finished telling his parents what had happened, they returned home.

"What a fascinating and unpredictable story," Mr. Holmes remarked. "You've done a good deed, Sherlock."

"That Peter is such a wicked man!"

Compared to the calm Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Holmes was furious.

He betrayed his friend, causing his friend's child to become an orphan, and also killed so many innocent people.

How can there be such evil people in this world?

The father and son looked at each other in bewilderment.

There are many people worse than this, you just haven't seen them yet.

Or perhaps Mrs. Holmes was too well protected.

Mr. Holmes tried to persuade Mrs. Holmes for a while longer, and finally managed to calm her down.

Sherlock looked around the house. "Mycroft hasn't been back all this time?"

“He’s been like this ever since he started working. He spends more time outside than at home, often staying out all night, and sometimes he might not come home even once a month.”

Mrs. Holmes looked somewhat worried. "He said he couldn't tell us what he was doing."

"However, he should come home for a few days around Christmas."

Mr. Holmes said, "Then you two brothers will be able to meet."

"I'm really looking forward to it."

Sherlock said so.

The night before Christmas, Christmas Eve.

The Kensington-Chelsea area was shrouded in a soft, expectant tranquility, with streetlights illuminating the sparse falling snowflakes and warm glows emanating from the windows of every house.

The Holmes family was no exception.

The firewood crackled in the fireplace, the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room was newly decorated, and the dining room was filled with an enticing aroma—it was Mrs. Holmes's Christmas dinner specially prepared for the family.

At this moment, she was carefully inspecting the table setting, her eyes occasionally glancing towards the door, her face a mixture of joy and a hint of anxiety.

Mr. Holmes sat in his usual armchair reading, his expression much calmer than his wife's.

Sherlock sat on the sofa, seemingly staring casually at the flames in the fireplace, but in reality, he was thinking about connecting his fireplace to the Floo Network.

Strictly speaking, a Muggle's fireplace should not be connected to the internet.

However, Mr. Weasley had specifically mentioned this to him and Hermione at the train station a couple of days ago.

He has a very useful acquaintance in the management team of Filu.net who can handle everything.

Speaking of the Flying Roads Management Group, Sherlock couldn't help but recall the case from Easter in his first year of high school.

The theft of Qiu Zhang's eyeshadow.

The criminal he exposed was none other than Marietta, Qiu Zhang's roommate at the time.

Because of this incident, Marietta has become estranged from her other roommates.

But her mother, Mrs. Eckmore, works at the Flyway Network Administration of the Department of Magical Transportation.

So Hermione pointed this out at the station, and if she found out about it, the other party might use it as an opportunity to question Mr. Weasley.

This naturally surprised Mr. Weasley, but he still assured him that there would be no problem.

Just then, the crisp sound of the doorbell interrupted Sherlock's thoughts.

"Thank God, he's here!"

Mrs. Holmes immediately put down her napkin and hurried toward the entrance.

Mr. Holmes closed the book, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Sherlock also raised his head, his sharp gaze fixed on the doorway.

The sound of a door opening and a blast of cold air entering came from the entryway, followed by Mrs. Holmes's joyful voice:
“Mycroft! Thank God you’re home safe and sound—it must be cold outside, right? You’re just in time, I’ve just finished preparing dinner.”

"Mom, Merry Christmas Eve—the car is warm enough, it's not cold."

A deep and calm voice followed, sounding nothing like that of a young man in his early twenties.

Soon, Mycroft Holmes, the eldest son of the Holmes family, appeared at the entrance to the living room along with Mrs. Holmes.

(End of this chapter)