Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 361 More Popular with Girls Than Expected
Sherlock's gaze swept over his brother. Compared to the last time he met him, Mycroft was much stronger and walked with a steady gait, clearly having made great progress in building muscle.

The dark gray three-piece suit was perfectly tailored, with his signature black umbrella draped over his arm and a thick coat.

His broad forehead is remarkably similar to Sherlock's, and his sharp eyes are just as striking.

Mycroft's gaze swept quickly across the room, then he nodded to his father.

"Dad, Merry Christmas Eve."

"It's good to see you back. Merry Christmas Eve," Mr. Holmes said with a smile.

Sherlock also stood up at that moment, and the two brothers' eyes met in the air.

Despite being brothers who hadn't seen each other for a long time, the two didn't hug each other affectionately.

A silent contest filled the air, brimming with familiar understanding and a clear grasp of each other's thought processes.

Almost instantly, the two brothers understood what the other had been doing recently.

"Ah, my dear brother has finally decided to leave his mysterious office."

Sherlock spoke first, his tone still familiar, "Wouldn't it seem strange to carry that black umbrella in the dead of winter?"

"This umbrella has more uses than you think, my dear brother—but you've grown quite a bit taller; it seems the food at Hogwarts is pretty good."

Mycroft's lips curved upwards in an extremely subtle way, like a chess player who had anticipated all the moves and saw his opponent move into position as planned.

"How about that? Not only did you find yourself a case, but you also conveniently solved a major problem involving the history of the Ministry of Magic?"

Despite being a Muggle, he talks about magic as casually as if he were discussing what to eat for dinner.

Faced with Mycroft's aggressive questioning, Sherlock slightly raised his chin.

He would restrain himself in front of his parents, but he would never hide his pride in front of his older brother.

“To correct you, Mycroft, it was called eliminating a threat that had been lurking around a friend for twelve years. It was very efficient, wasn’t it—it was over before Christmas dinner.”

"Efficiency? If I remember correctly, you've been in contact with that criminal since your first year."

"So you think I should have brought it up in first grade?"

"Alright, it's my fault. Asking you to do this before dispelling the magic was indeed asking too much."

"No, you're right. I should have discovered this sooner, but it's not too late now."

"His disguise might be clever to the bureaucrats in the magical world, but in the face of true observation, it's nothing more than a clumsy child's trick."

"But such a clumsy children's trick allowed a pure-blooded nobleman's heir to vacation in a place like Azkaban for twelve years, and also caused the deaths of half a street."

"So, those guys at the Ministry of Magic are even worse than Scotland Yard, letting the real culprit go free and allowing a loyal soul to almost rot in despair."

"That's exactly why I need to take action."

"Your adventurous tendencies remain unchanged, dear brother."

"Unfortunately, even with a clear chain of evidence, the action still lost to bureaucratic maneuvering in the office. Speaking of which, should I thank you for that?"

"No need for thanks, but... a minor who is not even fourteen years old directly intervenes in a deadly truth that has been hidden for twelve years, and incidentally makes our mother worry about the identity of that wanted godfather. This is not something a son should do."

"As a twenty-year-old adult who is so close yet can't even find time to go home, I feel that you have no right to criticize me."

The two men spoke faster and faster, and a sense of tension began to fill the air.

"Alright, you two!"

At this crucial moment, Mrs. Holmes suddenly spoke up, interrupting the exchange between the two.

She stepped forward and gently took Mycroft's coat and umbrella, frowning as she said:

"Tonight is Christmas Eve, a time for families to reunite."

We've finally met, so this isn't for you to compete to see who's smarter or argue about conspiracy theories.

The food's getting cold, let's eat first!

Upon hearing this, Mycroft immediately and obediently handed his coat and black umbrella to his mother. His tough image in front of his younger brother softened temporarily under his mother's slightly reproachful gaze.

“Your mother is right, it’s time for dinner, children.”

Mr. Holmes then chimed in, leading everyone toward the fragrant restaurant.

He glanced at the two brothers with a smile.

Neither of his two sons was frank enough.

What may seem like an argument is actually a way for them to show their care for each other.

Mycroft walked calmly to the dining table, his demeanor composed, as if the argument with Sherlock had never happened.

Sherlock watched Mycroft's retreating figure, a faint, elusive smile remarkably similar to his brother's appearing on his face, before following him.

The dining table is bright and warm under the lights, with fine wines and delicacies on display.

However, the brothers' Christmas Eve conversation about truth and efficiency had only just begun, waiting for a suitable quiet moment to continue.

Perhaps it will happen after dinner, during a casual chat by the fire.

But at least for now, it's time to raise a glass and wish each other a Merry Christmas Eve.

Merry Christmas!

Mrs. Holmes's culinary skills need no introduction; even Ron, who was used to Mrs. Weasley's cooking, had to praise them.

At the dinner table, Sherlock and Mycroft presented a harmonious scene of brotherly affection under Mrs. Holmes's gentle gaze.

It wasn't until after dinner that Sherlock and Mycroft came to the fireplace to chat.

“You have a very discerning eye when it comes to choosing friends, my dear brother. That boy named Harry is very dangerous.”

Mycroft leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to a level that Sherlock on the other side could clearly hear:
"The office has recently received some new reports that the magical world is not as peaceful as in fairy tales."

Sirius Black's return to freedom does not signify the end; it is likely just the prelude to the re-opening of the play.

Are you sure you want to stay in the spotlight forever, even dragging that boy and our whole family into it?

The flames crackled in the fireplace, and Sherlock's eyes sharpened instantly.

He met Mycroft's unfathomable gaze, but did not back down; instead, he was filled with a burning desire to challenge him.

"Center the stage? Mycroft, you've only been in that office for a short time, and your thinking has already become rigid?"
From the moment I entered the magical world, this so-called stage has never had any boundaries.

Are you making excuses for entering that boy's world so soon after starting school?

"Excuses? Danger never disappears just because you turn your back on it, Mycroft. I believe you, being at the center of the vortex, know this better than I do."

"Of course I know better than you that the eyes that can see the truth are the source of light themselves."

“In that case, you should also know that this matter is unavoidable, and what is bound to happen will eventually happen.” “That sounds a bit like fatalism, my dear brother.”

"Think what you will. Harry is my friend, and I will not let him get hurt."

Sherlock stood up and ended the conversation.

During the short time the two brothers were talking, Mrs. Holmes had glanced at them more than once, and if they continued, she would definitely have to step in and interrupt.

Instead of doing that, it would be better to end the conversation proactively after stating your position.

After all, neither he nor Mycroft wanted to worry their mother.

On the other hand, Mycroft, sitting on the sofa, watched Sherlock's departing figure, shook his head, and a smile appeared on his lips.

“Harry is your friend, but you… are also my brother…”

December 25, 1993, Christmas Day.

Two years have passed since the seemingly unbreakable alliance crumbled.

The fall of the red giant also affected the magical world.

As the once unified red magical world split into multiple independent magical regimes, the political landscape of the magical world suddenly became more diversified.

First, the Department of Magical Union dissolved with the collapse of the alliance, and the magical governments of the member states began to govern independently.

Over the past two years, they have been rebuilding their political systems, formulating policies and regulations, and handling internal affairs and foreign relations.

Before the dissolution of the Alliance, the Department of Magical Union held an important position in organizations such as the International Wizarding Federation and had considerable influence over international magical affairs.

However, its magical power was greatly diminished internationally after that.

However, as the Russian Ministry of Magic, which inherited the vast majority of the League's legacy, began to re-emerge on the international stage, a new balance of political power gradually began to take shape.

Of course, even so, it is still far from being comparable to before.

Russia is not only inferior to established magical nations like Britain and France, but it is also far behind emerging magical powers like China and the United States.

Secondly, there are magic schools.

There are not many systematic magic schools like Hogwarts in the UK that are registered with the International Federation of Wizardry Societies. There are only eleven such schools in the world, and each school has its own unique characteristics.

For example, the United States, which was once one of the two poles of the Muggle world but is now the dominant power.

Its magic school is called Iphamoni.

This school is the only magic school in the world founded with the participation of Muggles.

The term "No-Maj" is similar to "Muggle" in the UK, referring to ordinary people who do not possess magic.

In Britain, it would be unimaginable for wizards and Muggles to work together to found Hogwarts.

Even more remarkably, the founder of Evamoni was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin.

In light of this, Ilfamoni School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is widely recognized as one of the most democratic and inclusive great magic schools.

The magic school that originally belonged to the Alliance was called Kodosdorez, but it has now been officially inherited by Russia.

Unlike other Western European magic schools, including Hogwarts, this school's students play Quidditch by riding on an entire tree instead of flying broomsticks.

The Russians truly live up to their reputation as a fighting nation.

Despite its unique character, its strength as a magic school worldwide began to decline rapidly after the alliance disintegrated.

"...That's what happened."

Mycroft spoke to Sherlock, his signature calm tone masking a precise and insightful observation.

"You're telling me all this not just to give me a lesson on the international affairs of the Muggle and magical worlds, are you, Mycroft?"

“My dear brother, Hogwarts, where you are, is indeed relatively independent, but it is not completely isolated from the world.”

It is obvious that information, people, and influence can still circulate through various channels.

Let's not forget that in addition to the disintegration of the Red Alliance, there was also the formal establishment of the European Union.

This incident has led to increased ties within the European magical community recently.

Hogwarts is, in fact, one of the most influential magic schools in Europe.

"So you're trying to remind me that these chaotic situations might affect Britain? Affect Hogwarts? Or even directly affect me?"

Mycroft’s eyes were calm and still. “Yesterday’s talk about the center of the stage may have been a bit dramatic, but the more chaotic the lighting, the easier it is for the real performers to hide or be pushed to the front of the stage.”

Your tendency to attract trouble, and the fact that trouble attracts you, will only be amplified in this more unstable world.

Not to mention your dear friend—his special status means he's destined to always be in the eye of the storm.

“Ha!” Sherlock laughed. “That’s exactly what I’ve been looking for, my dear brother.”

“I know you enjoy adventure, but I still want to remind you not to put yourself in danger too often.”

After thinking about it last night, Mycroft's words seemed more straightforward than on Christmas Eve.

Sensing the concern in his words, Sherlock, unusually, did not refute him this time.

However, when Sherlock saw Mycroft stand up after saying that, he frowned. "You're leaving?"

"My father and mother hoped I could stay here a few more days, but unfortunately I can't let them have their way, so... I'll spend some more time with them. I'll try to come back every night these next few days."

Mycroft straightened the hem of his perfectly wrinkle-free suit, picked up the black umbrella leaning against the side, and gently tapped the headboard of Sherlock's bed.

"I won't disturb you while you admire your Christmas presents. By the way, you're even more popular with girls than I thought. Mom will be very happy."

After saying this, Mycroft walked steadily away from Sherlock's bedroom.

"Gift?"

Following Mycroft's gaze, Sherlock saw his pile of Christmas presents.

This has become an annual routine.

Then a letter at the very top caught Sherlock's eye.

He picked up the envelope; the faint fragrance and the beautiful, elegant handwriting already identified the sender.

Gemma Farley.

Sherlock was slightly taken aback as he opened the envelope.

This gift was a huge surprise to him.

(End of this chapter)