The young man standing by the Range Rover was tall and imposing, at least six feet by estimation, carrying a black umbrella in one hand.
Upon seeing this scene, Hermione imdiately rembered sothing and couldn't help but exclaim.
"I know who he is—he's Sherlock's brother!"
"Is he that elder Hols?"
The Granger family now had an excellent relationship with the Hols family, so Mr. and Mrs. Granger had long known that Hols had a brother seven years his senior.
However, neither had ever t him. Now, hearing Hermione's words and looking more carefully, they imdiately felt his features indeed bore so resemblance to Sherlock's around the eyes and brows.
Mrs. Granger said decisively. "Co on, let's go say hello to those two boys!"
"Is that really necessary?" Mr. Granger was sowhat reluctant. "We don't even know him—"
"We'll know him after saying hello, won't we? Are you coming or not? If not, I'm taking our daughter over there!"
"Fine, fine, I'll go!"
Mr. Granger sighed helplessly.
Taking heavy steps to catch up with his wife and daughter, Mr. Granger felt utterly exhausted.
On the other side, the Hols brothers were also conversing.
"Why is it you?"
"You already know the answer yet still ask —should I interpret this as a lack of confidence, dear brother?"
"Coming back early for once, and Mother wants us to bond again? Well, my position remains unchanged—Mycroft, the one who worries her has always been you, not !"
"My foolish brother—as a wizard speaking such words to his Muggle brother, isn't that rather ridiculous?"
"Don't think I don't know—you knew about magic much earlier than I did!"
"So what? Sherlock, the one who beca a wizard is you, not ! The one dealing with magic daily is you, not !"
"'So what?'—I return those words to you unchanged. Even becoming a wizard doesn't an my situation is more dangerous than yours."
"Ridiculous. The Muggle world doesn't have a Dark Lord whose na people dare not speak."
"Heh, you an that fellow who killed hundreds? Compared to that Austrian art student who was good at speeches, his record is rather unimpressive!"
"You seem to have forgotten that peace and developnt are the mainstream of today's world."
"Mycroft, such words might fool children, but I'm not the sa as before—I no longer consider myself an idiot."
Just as the two were at daggers drawn, a voice suddenly interjected.
"Children, are you quarreling?"
"Of course not!"
"We're rely discussing issues."
Mycroft and Sherlock almost instinctively made the sa movent—stepping back half a pace, regaining composure, and denying in unison that they were arguing.
"That's good!"
Mrs. Granger looked happily at the two Hols brothers.
"You must be Mycroft. I've heard Violet ntion you. Very pleased to et you."
"Mrs. Granger, hello. I am Mycroft Hols. Thank you and your husband very much for taking care of my brother."
Mycroft politely bowed slightly to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, his gaze sweeping over Hermione with a knowing gleam in his eyes.
Seeing Mycroft's performance, Mrs. Granger was even more satisfied and imdiately pulled her husband and daughter into conversation with him.
Over the following ti, Mr. and Mrs. Granger chatted very pleasantly with Mycroft.
Unlike his straightforward brother, Mycroft was much more sophisticated in conversation.
After their talk, the entire Granger family felt he was a good older brother who cared for his sibling.
He even proactively offered to supervise Sherlock in maintaining contact with Hermione during the holidays.
Only after the Granger family left did Mycroft withdraw his gaze, smiling as he said to Sherlock.
"Quite beyond my expectations—you actually have such a close female friend at school."
Sherlock: (¬_¬)
"My dear brother, don't always look so glum."
On the way back to King's Road, Mycroft said to Sherlock, who sat in the passenger seat, "Tell about school."
"I'm terribly sorry, Mycroft, but due to the Secrecy Act, I cannot tell anyone outside direct family about these matters."
"Sherlock, you know very well that thing is just waste paper to you and ."
"No, I don't know that."
"Heh."
Mycroft glanced at Sherlock from the corner of his eye, saying lightly, "There's still a wizard chess set at ho. Father and I have tried it—it's quite enjoyable.
Of course, if you really don't want to talk, I think Miss Granger would be quite willing to share with . I can tell she seems to be troubled by sothing."
"Suit yourself."
Seeing Sherlock's completely uncooperative attitude, Mycroft felt sowhat frustrated.
His brother was already so unruly before coming of age—what would happen when he reached adulthood?
Mycroft knew all too well that his brother, like himself, was no ordinary person.
His control over him could only last temporarily, never permanently.
As Sherlock grew older, he would ultimately walk his own unique path.
The problem was that even knowing the answer, so things simply had to be done as an older brother.
Only by truly trying could one have a clear conscience.
Originally, Mycroft had confidence he could control the general direction before Sherlock ca of age.
But what he hadn't expected was that magic existed in this world.
Although for certain reasons, Mycroft had learned of magic's existence early on.
The trouble was that as fellow Hols children, he, the eldest son, had no magical talent, while Sherlock, the younger brother, did.
This made things difficult.
Ultimately, when an owl brought Sherlock his Hogwarts acceptance letter, he didn't interfere.
Professor McGonagall had made the consequences of young wizards not learning magic crystal clear—Mycroft didn't want his brother becoming an Obscurial.
Conversely, Sherlock only knew that Mycroft had been recruited by the Queen's governnt before graduating university and had beco one of them.
But he didn't know that Mycroft did this precisely because he had a wizard brother.
Only by joining the Queen's governnt and reaching a certain level could one, as a Muggle, make contact with the magical world and thus protect this reckless brother.
Mycroft glanced again at Sherlock, who refused to speak with him, and couldn't help shaking his head.
"My foolish brother—"
'Never mind. Even if it ans opposing the entire world, I won't let my family co to harm!'
Mycroft thought to himself.
Naturally, upon returning ho, Sherlock and Mycroft received an enthusiastic welco from their parents.
Just as Sherlock had deduced earlier, Mycroft's early arrival for Christmas made their parents very happy, and they had suggested he drive to King's Cross Station to pick up Sherlock.
Mycroft had readily agreed.
In front of their parents, both brothers tacitly avoided ntioning their disagreents.
Both were skilled at disguising themselves, though Sherlock usually didn't care to do so in most situations.
But in front of their parents, they presented a harmonious picture of brotherly affection.
Under such circumstances, the whole family naturally got along wonderfully—everyone happy and content.
Several days later, ti ca to December 25, 1992—Christmas Day.
Like last year, Sherlock received a pile of gifts that day, most of them books.
Harry had sent a bound volu of The Daily Prophet.
According to Harry, this was Professor Snape's suggestion after he'd asked for advice.
Harry himself thought it was a good suggestion, though Gryffindor lost another ten points for it.
Ron had sent Flying with the Cannons.
This was a book Ron loved, containing stories about his favorite Quidditch team.
Cho Chang had sent a detective adventure book.
The book told of a historical figure who, as a youth, solved cases and went on adventures with his friends.
Gemma had also sent a book called Magical Cri Case Studies.
This book collected various criminal cases from the magical world, written by magical law scholars based on research and practical experience.
Gemma specifically noted that this was an internal Ministry of Magic edition, different from publicly sold versions, including so undisclosed content about Dark Magic cris and magical artifact smuggling.
Neville had sent My Life as a Squib.
It was the autobiography of Squib Angus Buchanan, who beca famous playing for Scotland's Muggle rugby team.
Luna's gift was similar to Harry's—a full year's bound volu of The Quibbler magazine, including the latest Christmas special issue.
In her accompanying letter, she suggested Sherlock should submit articles to The Quibbler about his experiences helping solve cases at school.
Hagrid's gift was rock cakes and treacle toffee, clearly still not realizing that Sherlock didn't consider rock cakes food, hoping Sherlock could enjoy the treats with his family.
Sherlock naturally kept the rock cakes to continue crafting shields.
As for the treacle toffee, after testing their hardness, Sherlock decided to use them as small throwing weapons.
Mrs. Weasley, like last year, had sent a brand-new blue hand-knitted sweater, sized larger than last year's, still with a large red "S" embroidered on the chest.
However, the accompanying sweets were replaced by a large raisin cake, which tasted good and was truly sothing to share with family.
When Sherlock noticed there was no gift from Hermione among the presents, he already understood that her family would definitely be coming over today.
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