HP: I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES

Sherlock never told anyone that he had specifically spoken to Dumbledore about Harry’s unfortunate childhood experiences.

He asked Dumbledore whether it was because Dumbledore himself was born in the Victorian era, accustomed to that wicked age when three-year-old boys cleaned chimneys, that he naturally considered Harry’s abuse to be acceptable.

Dumbledore’s response was as follows:

”At that time, I believed Harry’s situation was extremely dangerous.

Although Voldemort had vanished, those Death Eaters who remained loyal to him had not all been captured.

No one could guarantee they wouldn’t target Harry, so I refused all those wizarding families who wanted to adopt him and insisted on leaving him on the Dursleys’ doorstep.

First, it was for the protective magic of love to continue shielding him. As long as Harry could still call that place home, he would receive powerful protection.

On the other hand, it was to keep him away from the wizarding world.

Defeating the Dark Lord who had ruled the wizarding world for over a decade—this feat was enough to make Harry famous before he could walk or talk.

I didn’t want him to become someone like Gilderoy Lockhart, so I hoped he would grow up far from his past, until he could accept it all before letting him know.

At the time, I left a letter explaining to the Dursleys that Harry’s parents had been killed, and I hoped they would care for him as they would their own child.

Unfortunately, they didn’t do as I asked.

They never treated Harry as their own son. What Harry received from them was only neglect and regular abuse.”

”So, you knew all along.”

Sherlock sneered; his tone full of undisguised contempt. ”I thought you considered this normal!”

”I—of course I knew.”

Dumbledore sighed deeply. ”The silver lining in this misfortune was that Harry at least escaped the terrible damage they inflicted on their own child.”

Sherlock naturally knew Dumbledore was referring to Dudley Dursley.

Harry’s cousin, spoiled rotten by the Dursleys.

They held him in their palms fearing he’d fall, held him in their mouths fearing he’d melt.

Yet Harry, growing up in such an environment, still maintained his kind and pure nature, not consumed by hatred—it was simply a miracle.

”Your statement gives me the feeling of having to choose the less foul of two piles of dog shit.

Either abused or spoiled like that?

I don’t believe you, as the Great White Wizard, would have such a black-and-white mindset.”

Sherlock said bluntly.

Dumbledore couldn’t help but show an embarrassed expression.

This point, it seemed, had no explanation.

”Forgive me, Sherlock.”

This time Dumbledore didn’t evade but simply admitted his mistake.

”I’m truly grateful that Harry met you, and that you stand with us.

If you were our enemy, I can’t imagine what this world would be like.”

After this obvious praise, Dumbledore continued,

”No matter how miserably Harry lived there, how unwelcome he was, how abused, they at least very reluctantly gave him a place to stay.

When Harry turns seventeen, that is to say, when he becomes a man, this magic will expire.

So, my requirement isn’t high: I only hope they’ll allow him to return to this home once more before his seventeenth birthday.

This will ensure that protective power continues until that time.”

”The requirement is indeed not high, and what you say is indeed correct, but unfortunately others won’t see it that way.”

Sherlock withdrew from his thoughts, his gaze falling on Sirius, who was reading nearby.

Obviously, Sirius, as godfather, was one of those ”others” he had mentioned to Dumbledore.

After learning of Harry’s childhood experiences from Harry himself, he had immediately declared he would go to Privet Drive to teach that family a lesson.

And that was with Harry holding back in his telling.

Now, although the Dursleys had improved their relationship with Harry, Sirius clearly hadn’t let it go.

So, he seized every opportunity to take Harry away.

From Sirius’s current behavior, he naturally planned to have Harry continue spending the rest of summer vacation at Grimmauld Place.

”Sherlock, shouldn’t we make some preparations?”

”Slughorn is quite good, though he’s a Slytherin, he’s not as annoying as other snakes.”

Sirius, who was reading, suddenly looked up at Harry upon hearing this.

”Sherlock already wrote to ask me about him. Regulus had a high opinion of him back then.

When he taught us Potions, he always liked to tell stories about famous people while the cauldrons were boiling.

He’s indeed an interesting old man. If we’re going to see him, I don’t think any preparation is necessary.”

Hearing Sirius say this, Harry couldn’t help but hesitate.

He glanced unconsciously toward Sirius, seeming somewhat concerned.

This subtle action naturally didn’t escape Sherlock’s eyes.

Sherlock immediately understood.

Although Sirius was the person closest to Harry in this world, Harry hadn’t told Sirius the true purpose of this visit to Professor Slughorn.

Moreover, he hadn’t told Sirius about Professor Snape’s secret either.

Regarding this point, Sherlock had anticipated it early on.

As Dumbledore had once said:

Harry excels at decisive action, Ron at strategy, and Hermione at eloquent discourse.

These personality traits meant that Harry and Hermione were more mature than their peers, while Ron was somewhat more childish.

Actually, one couldn’t really call it childish.

Ron’s various behaviors were what boys of this age should be like.

It was precisely because Harry and Hermione were more mature than their peers that they made him seem somewhat childish by contrast.

As for Sherlock, he wasn’t normal at all and shouldn’t be counted in the consideration from the start.

Having understood the whole story, Harry would naturally think deeply and consider the consequences of telling Sirius about this matter.

Unfortunately, although Sirius was a very intelligent person, he appeared insufficiently rational in most situations and somewhat impulsive.

Just from his attitude toward Vernon Dursley during the holidays, one could see.

Even though Harry had repeatedly said he’d repaired his relationship with the Dursleys, Sirius just couldn’t help wanting to needle them.

This also led Harry to decide not to tell Sirius about this matter for now.

Otherwise, with his personality, he’d probably want to tear Snape limb from limb.

”Just as Sirius said, no preparation is needed. Leave everything to Professor Dumbledore.”

”I understand.” Hearing Sherlock’s words, Harry nodded.

Sirius frowned slightly, ”Dumbledore—”

Seeing this, Sherlock’s mind became clear.

He had now completely sorted out the relationships among these main members of the Order of the Phoenix.

People like Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid trusted Dumbledore without reservation.

Once Dumbledore made a decision, they would support it.

Professor McGonagall might pound the table at Dumbledore’s decisions, but once Dumbledore insisted, she would ultimately compromise.

Hagrid was like a loyal hound—if Dumbledore pointed east, he would never go west.

James and Lily Potter, Sirius, and Remus Lupin of that generation were considerably less trusting.

Among them, Lupin trusted Dumbledore the most.

Even without last year’s incident of Dumbledore inviting Lupin to return to Hogwarts to teach, back then it was he who had defied everyone’s opposition to let a werewolf study at Hogwarts.

James and Lily were somewhat less trusting. Sirius was the least trusting.

One could say that without James and Lily, Sirius would treat Dumbledore with just the ordinary attitude of a student toward a headmaster.

Even less than toward Professor McGonagall.

It was precisely because of this mistrust that after Sirius persuaded James and Lily to change their Secret-Keeper, he didn’t tell Dumbledore.

Forget it, this wasn’t his concern either.

When Dumbledore arrived later, he would naturally handle Sirius.

Harry was very interested in Sherlock’s experiences in Hawaii this month and kept pressing for details.

But for Sherlock it was actually quite simple—just two things.

Learning Bartitsu and writing that monograph on cigarette ash identification.

Time slipped away imperceptibly, and when the minute hand in the living room pointed to twelve, the doorbell rang.

Sherlock smiled slightly: ”Unexpectedly punctual.”

Harry jumped up as if electrocuted.

Before he could reach the door, Mr. Holmes appeared from somewhere and had already opened it.

A tall, thin man appeared at the doorway.

His silver hair and beard hung down to his waist, he wore half-moon spectacles on his hooked nose, dressed in a black traveling cloak and wearing a pointed hat.

”Good afternoon. You must be Mr. Holmes, I presume?

I believe Sherlock must have told you I was coming to pick him up, hasn’t he?”

At that moment, Mrs. Holmes, hearing the doorbell, also hurried from the kitchen, her apron still dusted with flour.

When she saw Dumbledore, her eyes lit up, and she immediately showed an enthusiastic smile,

”Ah, you must be Headmaster Dumbledore! Please come in! It’s windy outside.”

”Thank you very much, Mrs. Holmes.”

Dumbledore nimbly crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

”Sherlock, Harry, good afternoon—”

His gaze swept across the living room, pausing when he saw Sirius, his smile deepening: ”And Sirius. It’s truly a pleasure to see you all.”

”Don’t stand there talking, sit down quickly.”

Mrs. Holmes was undoubtedly enthusiastic. Dumbledore received the same hospitality as Harry and Sirius.

”Would you like sugar, Professor? I remember Harry once mentioned you’re very fond of sweets.”

Mrs. Holmes held a cup of coffee, asking somewhat hesitantly.

”That would be wonderful, madam!”

Dumbledore looked at Harry with some surprise, then showed a genuine smile. ”I do indeed love sweets.”

After receiving the sweetened coffee from Mrs. Holmes, Dumbledore carefully took a sip, and his eyes lit up.

He showed a surprised expression, even his silvery eyebrows raised, generously offering praise,

”This is truly a delicious beverage. Thank you for your hospitality. The taste is excellent—it would be even better if there could be more sugar.”

”That won’t do. Any more sugar would damage your teeth.”

Mrs. Holmes said seriously.

Looking at Dumbledore’s conspicuously wizardly demeanor, Mr. Holmes smiled slightly,

”Professor, even if you weren’t Sherlock and Harry’s headmaster, as a visitor to the Holmes home, there’s naturally no reason to treat you poorly.

Moreover, you’re a knowledgeable and respected teacher.”

Dumbledore couldn’t help but show a bitter smile:

”I don’t mean to be impolite—but I must say, if only you two could have been Harry’s uncle and aunt.”

At these words, the living room fell into a brief silence.

Dumbledore had obviously been moved by the scene, seeing the Holmeses’ attitude toward Harry and even wizards, reminded of Harry’s experiences over the years.

A trace of heartache and sympathy passed over Mrs. Holmes’s face.

She and Mr. Holmes both instinctively looked toward Harry, their gazes gentle.

”Yes, indeed.”

Sherlock looked at Dumbledore and said without courtesy,

”If that were the case, Harry would have understood from childhood what a family should truly be like, rather than just being a cold coordinate under a magical protection mechanism.”

Dumbledore let out a long sigh.

At this moment, he obviously also recalled that conversation with Sherlock about Harry’s childhood experiences.

Sirius looked coldly at Dumbledore without speaking.

If it were before, he would have been roaring already.

Just thinking about the Dursleys keeping Harry in the cupboard under the stairs made anger nearly prevent him from sitting still.

But Harry had told him more than once that it was all in the past, and Harry himself had forgiven them.

Plus, this was Sherlock’s home—Sirius didn’t want to lose composure here.

On the contrary, Harry, the protagonist of this matter, wasn’t as deeply affected by it.

Now his relationship with the Dursleys had been thoroughly improved.

For instance, this summer’s first month, Harry had spent very pleasantly at the Dursleys’.

So pleasant that even if he continued spending the rest of the entire summer vacation at Privet Drive, he wouldn’t have any resistance.

Dumbledore was right. If Sherlock really were his cousin, then his childhood environment would naturally have been completely different.

But looking at it now, even if he wasn’t, it didn’t matter.

Because from their first meeting, Sherlock had already been like a big brother to him.

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