HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

The Dursleys had no objections to Harry’s proposal.

Just as Harry had imagined, even though their relationship had been repaired, Vernon still didn’t want others to know of Harry’s existence.

On the other hand, Vernon was well aware of his sister’s nature—her tongue was even sharper than his own.

Petunia and Dudley had now accepted Harry, so he naturally had no problems. But his sister was different—for all these years, she had been urging the couple to send Harry to an orphanage.

Expecting such a person to accept Harry was simply impossible.

If Harry remained here and Marge said something unpleasant or did something unseemly, it would be embarrassing for everyone.

Now that Harry could proactively suggest leaving for a while, it couldn’t be better.

”It’s good that you’re leaving. Otherwise, I’d really have to rack my brains figuring out what to tell Marge about you. Here’s a hundred pounds—don’t misunderstand, I’m not doing this out of concern for you.

After all, you’re leaving from my house, and I simply don’t want others to look down on you. What? You’re saying you need me to drive you to your classmate’s house? Of course, I do—did you expect to walk there on your own two feet?”

Sherlock already knew the rest of the story.

”Outrageous!”

After hearing Harry’s account, the usually good-tempered Mrs. Holmes became angry.

Violet Holmes was a very gentle, traditional English woman who loved her husband and sons deeply. Take Mycroft, for example—although he had been recruited by the government at a young age, which seemed like an honorable thing, she would rather her son could be an ordinary person who never had to face danger. Unfortunately, children grow up and make their own choices. She could only keep this care and worry silently buried in her heart.

Because of this, when she heard about Aunt Marge’s actions, she became rarely angry.

”Hitting a five-year-old child’s shins with a walking stick, giving dog biscuits as presents, and letting a dog chase you up a tree until midnight—how could she do such things! Is her heart made of stone?”

Mr. Holmes also frowned.

When Harry had come here last time, he already knew that Harry had suffered greatly over the years. So much so that when the couple mentioned Harry could treat this place as his own home, Harry’s first reaction was to ask if he could live in the cupboard.

He hadn’t expected that Harry had endured far more grievances than imagined—it was absolutely outrageous!

Harry was startled.

In his impression, Mrs. Holmes was even gentler than Mrs. Weasley, and every time he saw her, he couldn’t help feeling a sense of closeness. He had never even imagined that Mrs. Holmes could get angry.

Although Mr. Holmes beside her was also frowning, in Harry’s view, Mrs. Holmes at this moment was more frightening than he was.

Harry felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles, with thorns in his back, treading on thin ice.

He wished he hadn’t mentioned this matter.

”A-Auntie, it’s all in the past now. My relationship with them isn’t like it used to be anymore...” Thinking of this, he hurriedly explained, ”Actually, I think Aunt Marge had a point.”

”Child, what are you saying?” Mrs. Holmes looked at Harry with a gaze that held both helplessness and affection. ”She treated you like that, and you’re still defending her?”

Seeing Mrs. Holmes like this, Harry secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

”Because she always thought Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia shouldn’t have taken me in. She even said that if someone had dumped me on her doorstep, she would have sent me to an orphanage long ago.”

Speaking of this, Harry couldn’t help but think of Tom Riddle. He had grown up in an orphanage and eventually became the Dark Lord who terrorized the entire wizarding world.

If he had really grown up in an orphanage, would he have become a villain too? Probably not, right?

”Being with them is worse than staying in an orphanage,” Mrs. Holmes said coldly, her anger clearly not yet subsided.

Sherlock suddenly spoke up. ”Actually, the headmaster is the one who handled this matter poorly.”

”The headmaster—you mean Professor McGonagall who came to our house?” Mrs. Holmes immediately remembered that somewhat stern professor, somewhat surprised that these matters were related to her.

”No, someone else—Albus Dumbledore,” Sherlock said. ”He was the one who insisted on sending Harry to the Dursleys, and all these years, he’s believed that Harry was doing well on Privet Drive.”

”This is what he calls doing well?” Mrs. Holmes laughed bitterly, wondering if this headmaster named Dumbledore had sh*t in his brain.

”Because he’s lived too long,” Sherlock explained patiently to his mother.

”Our morally bankrupt country only passed formal child protection laws in 1989. Before that, there was even a period in history when three-year-old children were made to clean chimneys.

Headmaster Dumbledore was born in the Victorian era—his perspective on many things still belongs to that bygone age, naturally different from ours, including this point. Besides, his unique life experiences have also influenced his worldview, which is why he has such understanding.”

Hearing this, Mrs. Holmes took a deep breath to calm herself before speaking,

”Harry, from now on, for all holidays, unless you want to stay at school, you’ll stay here directly. Don’t go back to Privet Drive anymore! If that headmaster doesn’t agree, let me talk to him!”

At this moment, Harry firmly believed that even when facing Professor McGonagall, Mrs. Holmes would not be at a disadvantage.

Indeed, gentle people are truly frightening when they get angry.

He regretted again that he shouldn’t have mentioned this matter—at least not in such detail. Now he didn’t know how to respond.

Fortunately, Sherlock spoke up in time to help him out:

”Mother, that won’t work.”

”Why not?”

”Harry has an ancient protective magic on him. He needs to stay there for at least a month each year.”

”Then stay there for a month and then come over!”

Hearing Mrs. Holmes’s words, Harry was deeply moved. At this moment, he seemed to receive maternal love from Mrs. Holmes.

”Mrs. Holmes, actually my relationship with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia is much better than before. Thanks to Sherlock, they don’t treat me like they used to. If it weren’t for Aunt Marge coming this time, I would have had a pretty good summer! I now have my own separate bedroom, and this holiday my cousin even gave me lots of comics and toys.”

Harry hurriedly spoke up for the three members of the Dursley family.

The more he said, the angrier Mrs. Holmes became.

How much suffering must he have endured to consider his cousin giving him presents as something worth bragging about?

Looking at Harry’s sincere gaze, Mrs. Holmes suppressed her anger and simply changed the subject.

”Harry, I heard from Sherlock that tomorrow is your birthday?”

”Um, yes!”

”Where would you like to go?”

”What?”

”Never mind, you and Sherlock should rest early tonight. Just listen to our arrangements when you get up tomorrow morning.”

”Huh?”

Harry was confused.

He didn’t dare ask Mrs. Holmes in her current state, so he went to ask Mr. Holmes, but Mr. Holmes just smiled without saying anything.

He could only ask Sherlock. But he had a feeling he wouldn’t get the answer he wanted from Sherlock.

Sure enough, Sherlock’s response was: ”Time will tell you all the answers.”

Harry: (￣_￣|||)

Seeing the mysterious appearance of the Holmes family trio, Harry could only go to sleep early with an uneasy heart.

The next day.

Mrs. Holmes woke Sherlock and Harry early, telling them they were going out today.

Sherlock naturally had expected this.

Harry was completely bewildered.

However, in the time that followed, he finally experienced Dudley’s happiness.

Mrs. Holmes felt that Harry had been wronged on Privet Drive and decided to give Harry a truly meaningful birthday.

She treated Harry as another one of her children, taking Harry to visit every place she could think of.

When Harry sat beside Sherlock enjoying the feeling of the gentle breeze on his face, he couldn’t help but burst into tears.

You must know that just two years ago, on Dudley’s birthday, Harry had thought himself incredibly lucky simply because it was the first time in his life, he had ridden in Uncle Vernon’s car to go to the zoo—even though this was only because the Dursleys didn’t dare leave him alone at home and had no way to arrange for him otherwise.

At the park entrance, the Dursleys had bought Dudley and his friend Piers large chocolate ice creams. Only because the ice cream seller kept asking did they reluctantly buy Harry a cheap lemon popsicle.

Harry had thought the popsicle was quite good at the time.

When eating lunch at the restaurant, Dudley complained that his knickerbocker glory wasn’t big enough, so Uncle Vernon quickly ordered him a larger one and let Harry finish the original one.

Harry had happily licked the sundae because it was the first time he had tasted such expensive treats.

Last summer, the days Harry spent at the Burrow had also been very happy.

But even so, Harry still couldn’t forget that day.

If it hadn’t been for releasing the Brazilian boa constrictor afterward, resulting in him being locked in the cupboard for a month, it really would have been the most perfect day of his life.

After learning he was a wizard and entering Hogwarts to study for two years, Harry had originally thought he had long since adapted to life in the wizarding world.

But when today he followed the Holmes family to the zoo and enjoyed happiness like other children his age, he realized something.

The reason he loved the wizarding world and accepted the fact that he was a wizard in such a short time was because his previous life in the Muggle world had been truly terrible.

He was, after all, just a child!

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