Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 372 Like Sunlight Through the Night
128 King Road.

The quaint house was gently caressed by the warm winter sun.

The snow on the path in front of the house shimmered in the dim light, as if sprinkled with tiny diamonds.

Despite the door being tightly closed, it couldn't stop the warm feeling emanating from inside.

It was a unique homey smell, a blend of the faint, smoky aroma of burning wood in the fireplace and a sense of warmth.

With less than a week left in the winter break, two guests arrived at the place.

Harry Potter, and his godfather, Sirius Black.

Undoubtedly, despite not being informed in advance, the arrival of the father and son was warmly welcomed by Holmes and his wife.

“You should have told Sherlock in advance so I could have made some preparations.”

Mrs. Holmes welcomed the two into the house.

Her smile was as warm as the spring sun, and she spoke with a hint of reproach.

Harry's cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold wind, and his green eyes sparkled with anticipation and excitement as he heard Mrs. Holmes's words.

Sirius Black, a tall man, had long black hair that fluttered wildly in the wind, and a hint of tension was faintly visible in his deep eyes.

After all, this was the first time he had accompanied Harry on a home visit as a parent.

Although I have met the Holmes couple more than once, being the host and being a guest are two completely different concepts.

So upon hearing Mrs. Holmes say this, Sirius immediately bowed slightly and said politely:

“There is absolutely no need for that, madam.”

After learning how well Sherlock's parents treated Harry, he became even more respectful towards the Holmes couple.

"We've already caused you trouble by coming here, so how can we let you go through the extra work of preparing?"

"What are you saying!"

Mrs. Holmes' eyes curved into crescents as she looked at Harry with doting eyes. "I've always said this, this is Harry's home, he's our second son!"

Mr. Holmes stood behind the lady.

Although he didn't speak, he smiled and nodded at Harry, his eyes filled with obvious affection.

Upon hearing Mrs. Holmes's words, Sirius and Harry, father and son, couldn't help but recall the stories Sirius had once told Harry.

When Sirius was sixteen, he resolutely ran away from home and went to his good friend James's house.

At that time, Harry's grandparents also treated Sirius as the second son of the Potter family.

Time seems to have overlapped at this moment, and who could have imagined that today, another pair of parents would say the same thing?
A warm feeling welled up in Harry's heart.

However, his feelings were not particularly deep.

But for Sirius, this scene was like a replay of yesterday, and those long-forgotten memories surged back like a tidal wave.

His lips curled up slightly, revealing a faint smile, but a hint of melancholy flashed in his eyes.

This scene was heartwarming, but sadly, the departed loved one could never return...

But before Harry and Sirius could respond to Mrs. Holmes's words, a calm voice broke the brief silence:
"Mom, I don't think Sherlock would agree with what you said."

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw Mycroft Holmes walking steadily out of the house.

Even at home, he still wore a well-tailored, sharp suit, and his leather shoes were polished to a shine, with each step exuding a steady rhythm.

Under Harry's slightly surprised gaze, Mycroft greeted Harry with a smile:

"Long time no see, Harry."

Harry quickly returned the smile.

He thought to himself that this wasn't just polite talk; he and this fellow really hadn't seen each other for a long time.

Upon their reunion, he noticed that Mycroft was much more robust than when they last met.

I wonder if it's because she went to work for the Queen's government, but her demeanor has become increasingly composed.

After greeting Harry, Mycroft turned to Sirius.

He slightly extended his right hand, palm down, in an elegant gesture.
"Mr. Black, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please take care of me."

Let me introduce myself. I am the first son of this family, Mycroft Holmes.

Sirius: "..."

Harry: "..."

There's no need to emphasize "the first son" so much, really.

However, after realizing what had happened, Sirius still smiled and shook hands with Mycroft, saying, "Hello, Mr. Holmes."

He had already learned from Harry in the Hogwarts headmaster's office that Sherlock had an older brother named Mycroft, and he also knew that this man played a key role in the Ministry of Magic's decision to change its opinion.

Since he had the good fortune to meet him today, Sirius Black was naturally not going to let this opportunity pass by. He discreetly observed the other party.

In Sirius's eyes, Mycroft was almost the same height as himself, with a tall and upright figure and an extraordinary demeanor.

His appearance is quite similar to that of Sherlock Holmes and Mr. Holmes; his features are resolute, giving him an air of authority.

What's most striking is his broad forehead and sharp eyes, which are strikingly similar to Sherlock's, as if he could see right through people's hearts.

All of this seems to further confirm that the other party is no ordinary person.

"Just call me Mycroft."

Mycroft withdrew his hand, his smile softening slightly. "After all, there are three Mr. Holmes in this house, aren't there?"

He tilted his head slightly, a sly glint in his eyes.

In fact, while Sirius was sizing up Mycroft, the latter had already completed his observation of him at a speed that was imperceptible to others, and quickly formed a preliminary judgment in his mind.

This judgment was accurate and insightful, far exceeding Sirius's assessment of him.

[Shrewd, rebellious, and disregards rules; loyal, passionate, and impulsive.]

Struggling in solitude and seeking self-redemption, Harry by his side serves as a spiritual anchor for his own sense of responsibility.

Although physically exhausted, I am filled with guilt. My purpose in coming today is for the trial in three days.

"Mycroft, you're the one who should be ashamed that your mother could blurt out that Harry is your parents' second son."

Just then, another voice rang out, and Sherlock came out of the house.

He had his hands in his pockets, and his steps were light and casual.

Sherlock looked at Mycroft, his expression calm:
"After all, there is no indication that there is another son living in this house besides me."

"Is that so? Then I must say your observation skills have deteriorated somewhat."

Mycroft shook his head slightly, his tone full of mockery, "I've never heard of a family having another son and the older brother being ranked after the younger brother."

"I've heard about it now."

"Alright, you two—we have guests here, what nonsense are you talking about?"

Mrs. Holmes said, feigning displeasure.

She frowned slightly, secretly regretting what she had just said.

But then again, you can't really blame her.

Since Mycroft went to college, it's become common for him not to go home. Especially situations like today, where he could stay home, are so rare they're practically impossible.

That's why, when Harry was mentioned just now, I subconsciously overlooked Mycroft.

That's why he blurted out that Harry was their second son.

In fact, Mycroft was well aware of this as well.

But he couldn't argue with his mother, so he preemptively shifted the blame onto Sherlock.

Sherlock was also aware of this, which is why he was unwilling to take the blame and decisively spoke out in rebuttal.

Watching the two brothers clash, Sirius's lips unconsciously curled into a smile.

Her smile held a hint of envy.

He thought of his past.

Despite his fierce and ruthless nature, he was once a man with brothers.

But... his eyes gradually dimmed.

Young people are bound to make mistakes.

If one can pull back from the brink, there is still hope.

Unfortunately, by the time he wanted to quit, it was too late.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Sirius and Harry sat down in the living room.

Harry was very familiar with this place, but Sirius was visiting for the first time.

The environment at Holmes's house was completely different from that at 12 Grimmauld Place.

The windows are fitted with stained glass, and winter sunlight shines through the diamond-shaped window panes, casting dappled patterns of light on the wooden floor.

The fireplace crackled and popped, its warmth filling the air and dispelling the damp chill of a London winter.

Although the house wasn't as spacious as Blake's old house, it was bright and cozy.
The living room was decorated in a warm and elegant style, with the faded Persian carpet showing frayed edges.

The sofa is made of soft brown leather, with a crochet apricot-colored cover draped over the armrests, on which several brightly colored cushions are placed.

Mrs. Holmes served them refreshments, freshly baked cookies that smelled enticing.

After doing all this, she smiled and left, letting the young people talk amongst themselves.

Sirius nestled in the soft velvet sofa, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the apricot-colored cover.

He noticed Harry bringing his frostbitten nose close to the teacup, the steam condensing into white mist on the boy's glasses.

Not only Harry, but he himself felt comfortable in this environment.

Sherlock leaned against the fireplace mantle, his gaze sweeping over Sirius's cuffs and the back of Harry's left hand:
"It seems your spring cleaning didn't go very well?"

"As you said."

Harry put down his teacup, not at all surprised that Sherlock could see that. "It's less of a cleaning and more of a war against that old house."

He looked up at Sirius, and then, with Sirius's encouraging gaze, began to complain:

"With Kreacher's help, the old house put up a very strong resistance against us."

Kreacher would always appear where we worked together, trying every possible way to take something from the garbage bag and hide it under his rag.

Every time we catch him, he utters a lot of very foul language.

It wasn't until my godfather threatened to give him clothes that he tearfully said we would do whatever we wanted.

But before it can even turn around, it will say some even more unpleasant things…

"Oh, how awful is it?"

Mycroft leaned forward from his armchair and asked curiously.

Sherlock glanced at him.

Harry was a little embarrassed: "Uh... sorry, Mycroft, those are words I've never heard before, so I can't repeat them."

“That’s no reason, dear Harry.”

Mycroft smiled and said, “The moment it’s told to you, you’re no longer ‘never heard of it before.’”

Harry: "..."

What you said makes so much sense that I am speechless.

But I still can't do it again!

“Ignore that guy,” Sherlock said to Harry. “Just tell me what you’re here for.”

"Isn't this obvious, my dear brother?"

Mycroft smiled slightly. "Why do you need to ask your dear friend for the answer?"

Hearing Mycroft's words, Sherlock paused for a moment, then re-examined Sirius and Harry.

He quickly looked at Mycroft and said in a playful tone, "I see... It seems you smelled an even stronger gunpowder odor coming from them."

It wasn't just cleaning products and mold; it was the stench of a long-standing case from the Ministry of Magic.

“The connection is obvious, my dear brother.”

Mycroft's sharp gaze swept over Sirius's taut arm muscles and the new scratches on Harry's hand, and he said calmly:
"The two warriors who had exhausted all their efforts to wage war against the Black family mansion headed straight here before the ruins of their victory had even been cleared."

What else could it be but the final step to completely erase the shadows of the past?

Sherlock gave a brief laugh: "I must admit, once again you've seen through one more layer of fog than I have, Mycroft."

"There's no need to belittle yourself, my dear brother. Although your older brother is a Muggle, he has access to more information than you do."

Harry and Sirius were a little confused by the brothers' conversation.

Finally, Harry couldn't help but ask, "Sherlock, Mycroft, what... what are you talking about?"

"Now, regarding your purpose for being here," Sherlock smiled slightly, "so, on which day did the Ministry of Magic schedule the Peter Pettigrew incident?"

When he said that, Harry was startled at first, but then he was relieved and his eyes subconsciously turned to his godfather beside him.

Unlike Harry, Sirius's body stiffened for a moment.

He simply hadn't expected the Holmes brothers to see through their intentions so quickly.

Just now, the seemingly quarrelsome but actually subtle bickering between the Holmes brothers had plunged him into memories of Regulus.

However, Sherlock's incisive question at this moment pulled him back to reality from his brief moment of sadness.

Peter Pettigrew, the true traitor who betrayed James and Lily, pushing him into the abyss of Azkaban.

After a brief silence, Sirius couldn't help but ask, "You guys figured it out?"

"It's obvious that Mycroft has already explained the process, so I don't need to repeat it."

Sherlock looked at Sirius. "Your expression tells me that you're not entirely satisfied with this result. Why is that?"

"Normally, shouldn't this be like sunlight breaking through the darkness, exactly what you've been hoping for?"

Sherlock's gaze suddenly sharpened. "Or... has something else happened?"

(End of this chapter)