HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

BANG!

With Ron slamming down on the gas pedal, a tremendous crash echoed through the air.

The car’s hood flew straight up into the air before crashing down to the ground with a thud.

The Ford Anglia’s body shuddered violently twice, then stalled completely.

This scene left everyone stunned speechless.

”Well, that was quite embarrassing,” Hermione murmured, then quickly fell silent.

She wasn’t particularly skilled at conversation either, but compared to Sherlock’s domineering presence, she seemed quite reasonable.

Harry couldn’t help but glance at Sherlock, wondering when his good friend had secretly learned divination. Had that ”but” he’d started earlier been leading to exactly this moment?

Even someone who couldn’t drive could see that Ron had completely botched this attempt.

Mr. Holmes and Mr. Granger exchanged glances, speechless.

This young man... didn’t seem very bright, did he?

Ron himself had entered a state of existential crisis.

’Who am I? Where am I? What just happened?’

Everything had been arranged so carefully—why did this happen?

Just then, a strong, powerful hand suddenly pressed down on his shoulder.

Ron turned his head mechanically to the left and saw his father looking at him with a smile, speaking in an unquestionable tone with firm determination.

”You just focus on driving. Leave the solutions to your old dad.”

After saying this, he didn’t wait for Ron’s response and simply got out of the car to begin inspecting it.

Mr. Holmes and Mr. Granger exchanged glances and followed to help.

The three men gathered around the front of the car to observe for a while. Mr. Granger frowned and said, ”It looks like the engine is broken...”

”Yes, it does appear to be completely ruined,” Mr. Holmes agreed.

The two men couldn’t help but exchange worried looks again. If this were the Muggle world, getting a car’s engine back to working condition after complete failure would take several days at least.

But here they were, in the middle of nowhere—

”Gentlemen, no need to worry!”

”You have a solution?”

Seeing Mr. Weasley’s confident expression, both Mr. Holmes and Mr. Granger looked surprised.

”Leave it to me!”

He said it, and he meant it.

Mr. Holmes and Mr. Granger couldn’t understand what Mr. Weasley was doing at all.

They watched him pull out his wand and tap it here and there on the car, muttering incantations like ”Reparo” and ”Scourgify.”

Ron and his three companions didn’t get out of the car, knowing they wouldn’t be of any help even if they did.

”Ron, don’t worry. The three uncles will definitely be able to fix it!”

”Harry’s right. It might be difficult in the Muggle world, but don’t forget we’re in the magical world—look, your father has already started using spells.”

The two of them took turns comforting Ron, who was still in his existential crisis state.

Sherlock remained calm and silent.

Harry had originally wanted Sherlock to say a few encouraging words too, but thinking of his friend’s particular style, he quickly abandoned that idea.

It would be better if Sherlock didn’t speak—if he did, Ron’s mood might end up even worse than it already was.

After staying in place for half an hour, the car was restored to its pre-embarrassment state under Mr. Weasley’s efforts.

”Amazing!”

”Simply incredible!”

Watching the car start up again, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Granger felt even more amazed by the wonders of the magical world.

This was a completely destroyed engine!

The same problem in the Muggle world would take several days to repair.

But Mr. Weasley had solved it in half an hour with a series of spells.

Magic was truly miraculous!

With the car repaired and encouragement from his friends, Ron regained his confidence.

He did have some skill after all. When he calmed down and stopped trying to show off his technique, he finally managed to restart the car properly.

With the previous experience behind him, Ron was much more proficient this time.

He drove carefully and steadily, soon settling into a normal rhythm.

This made everyone else in the car secretly breathe a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness—they were afraid Ron might have a repeat performance, or even a third disaster.

A few more incidents like that, and even if the car could handle it, they certainly couldn’t.

Although both Devon and Godric’s Hollow were in southwestern England, there was still nearly 100 miles between them.

Fortunately, the Weasley family’s car looked old but was actually gold beneath its tattered exterior.

It ran quite well.

As the car traveled along the zigzagging road, it was like a nimble blue beetle weaving through the green countryside.

Ron gripped the steering wheel steadily, his eyes focused, a hint of composed confidence at the corners of his mouth.

Once he’d gotten into the rhythm, he could even occasionally chat with his father, who had also relaxed.

Sitting in the back, Hermione didn’t fall asleep again this time.

She stared curiously at the scenery constantly disappearing outside the window, the breeze gently tousling her bushy brown curls, her whole body radiating youthful vitality.

This sight made Mr. Granger nod approvingly to himself, filled with paternal pride.

’My daughter is growing up!’

But the next moment, his brow furrowed.

He watched Hermione turn her gaze away from the window and ask the person beside her curiously.

”Sherlock, can you drive?”

At that moment, Sherlock was tapping his knee absent-mindedly, his eyes gleaming with curiosity and contemplation.

Hearing Hermione’s question, he said casually, ”I can drive, just a little bit.”

Hermione said ”Oh” and didn’t think much of it, then asked, ”What do you think we’ll see at the Potter family’s old house?”

”Harry’s grandparents, and some ruins.”

”His grandparents aren’t already—”

Hermione was startled at first, then realized, ”Oh, you mean their portraits—”

But hearing Sherlock mention Harry’s grandparents alongside ruins felt somehow strange. Harry himself didn’t seem bothered by it, though.

Ever since seeing his entire family’s appearance in the Mirror of Erised last year, Harry had kept their images etched deep in his mind, though he never spoke of it.

Now that he could finally meet his grandparents again, he felt especially excited.

For him, compared to the one-sided longing of the Mirror of Erised, the interactive nature of magical portraits would clearly be much more fulfilling.

Seeing the three children chatting happily, Mr. Holmes showed a fatherly smile.

Mr. Granger, however, felt somewhat uncomfortable.

As for the reason, it was better left unsaid.

Compared to the subtle atmosphere in the back seat, the father-son dynamic in the front was much more cheerful.

Ron gripped the steering wheel tightly. ”Dad! Stop just playing around and help me watch the road!”

”It’s fine, I’m keeping an eye on things!”

Seeing that Ron could now drive competently, Mr. Weasley relaxed and excitedly poked at the car radio.

”Finally have a chance to properly study this car! Hey, look at this knob—a Muggle metal box that can actually catch sound waves? Absolutely fascinating!”

Ron felt somewhat speechless at his father’s behavior.

He suddenly remembered a saying. When there’s danger, Dads are most reliable; when there’s no danger, Dads are most dangerous.

As he was thinking this, Mr. Weasley did something completely unexpected—he suddenly pressed a small silver button on the dashboard.

The moment he pressed it, their car disappeared, along with everyone inside it.

”Good lord! Dad, what did you do!”

Ron suddenly found the car had left the ground, rising several feet in the blink of an eye.

He barely managed to keep the car steady.

When he came to his senses, he discovered the car was now floating above the broad countryside.

”We did waste some time earlier,” Mr. Weasley said, much more excited than the somewhat panicked Ron.

He turned around and found he could no longer see the passengers in the back seat, which made him even happier.

”Ha! Success! This is the Invisibility Booster I told you about yesterday. Just press it lightly and it sends us up into the sky, then we fly above the clouds. Nobody can spot us at all! How’s that for magical?”

No one answered him.

The five people in the back seat were all checking their own condition.

Sherlock looked around in all directions and found that the car and all its passengers were now invisible.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with this—it was just like when Harry wore his Invisibility Cloak.

Mr. Weasley was indeed a man with ideas. He’d actually managed to apply the Invisibility Charm to an entire car, and successfully too.

The other four were equally amazed.

Though they were invisible, their five senses remained intact.

This feeling was even more wonderful!

It was like a premium flying car!

Although the nearby terrain was open, cars still had to follow roads when driving on the ground.

Under those circumstances, it couldn’t always go in straight lines—it inevitably had to turn and go up and down hills.

But flying through the air was different.

As long as they could confirm the direction, they could fly directly toward their destination.

After all, anyone with even basic mathematical knowledge knew: between two points, a straight line is shortest.

This way, even maintaining their original speed, they’d use less time.

Not to mention they were now going even faster than on the ground.

Compared to the surface, this was a completely different world.

The wheels skimmed over soft clouds, and under the brilliant daylight, the sky was bright blue and boundless.

”Oh, this is almost no different from an airplane!”

Finally, Mr. Holmes was the first to recover, unable to help exclaiming in amazement.

”There are still some differences—airplanes are much faster than this. But this is a flying car!”

Mr. Granger’s voice was equally full of excitement.

Just then, Sherlock suddenly felt his arm being gripped tightly by small hands.

He was startled at first, then realized what was happening.

It was Hermione!

His brow furrowed slightly as he understood what was occurring.

They were now at an altitude far beyond what Hermione could handle.

Judging from her constantly trembling hands, her acrophobia must have struck again.

Sherlock frowned and started to speak.

”Herm—”

But after uttering just one syllable, his mouth was covered.

This left Sherlock extremely puzzled.

Even if she didn’t want him to speak, there was no need to use this method, was there?

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