This is a translation of the original work.On Patreon, you can read up to 5 chapters per day until we catch up with the number of chapters released by the original author.
Support us there and follow Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts ahead of time!
Harry Potter felt helpless.
His usually strict Uncle Vernon had, uncharacteristically, driven him to King's Cross Station and even helped push his heavy trunk into the station.
Harry initially wondered why Vernon had suddenly become so nice, but the moment he saw there was no Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, he understood.
No wonder Vernon had run off so quickly; he had deliberately abandoned him here!
Helpless, Harry could only pluck up the courage to ask a guard.
Although he didn't mention Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, he was still scolded for causing trouble.
Mainly because Harry couldn't even clearly state where Hogwarts was located.
When he learned there wasn't a single train departing at eleven o'clock, he felt utterly desperate.
The silver lining was that he encountered a kind wizarding family.
With their help, Harry finally managed to reach Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
However, because he arrived so late, the train was almost full.
Harry could only squeeze through the crowd with difficulty, finding an empty compartment near the end of the train.
He tried to lift his trunk onto the step, but being thin and the trunk too heavy, he tried twice, and both times the trunk crashed heavily onto his foot.
At this point, he couldn't even feel the pain in his foot anymore.
He took a deep breath and made a third forceful attempt.
Unsurprisingly, he failed again.
At the critical moment, a strong hand firmly caught the trunk, preventing it from hitting Harry's foot for the third time.
Harry looked up, and a face that was striking at first glance entered his vision.
"You need help."
The other boy lifted the trunk onto the step with a slight effort, simultaneously offering Harry a smile.
Harry had grown up in an environment of bullying and oppression.
Both at home and at school.
At home, he didn't even have his own room; his aunt and uncle had always made him live in the spider-infested cupboard under the stairs.
If he caused any trouble, he would be punished by being denied food and frequently bullied by his cousin Dudley.
At school, Harry had no friends.
This was also because of Dudley.
As the school bully, Dudley was extremely tyrannical.
He was the type to pull down his own pants in public, yet help others pull theirs up after they peed (a Chinese idiom describing someone utterly shameless and domineering).
With everyone knowing Dudley hated Harry the most, no one wanted to oppose Dudley and his gang.
In this environment, Harry naturally developed a solitary personality.
However.
At this moment, Harry would bet that the smile on the face of the boy standing before him was the most charming smile he had ever seen in his life.
Whether it was the distinctive grey eyes, the slender aquiline nose, or the ease with which he handled the trunk, everything made the other boy seem exceptionally reliable.
The last time he felt this way was on his birthday.
The giant Hagrid had brought the Hogwarts acceptance letter and told Harry he was a wizard.
"I am Sherlock Holmes, a first-year. And you?"
While Harry was still dazed, Sherlock had already extended his hand.
"H-hello, Holmes. I'm Harry Potter, also a first-year."
Harry was so nervous that he instinctively offered both hands to Sherlock.
But he quickly realized how foolish that looked and hastily withdrew one hand.
Mainly, he had very little social experience and feared the other boy would laugh at him.
Sherlock, naturally, wouldn't do that.
Even for Sherlock, finding Harry Potter—whom he had never met before—on an entire train wasn't an easy task.
Fortunately, Sherlock had arrived early enough, giving him ample time to rule out those already waiting on the platform.
This way, he only needed to focus on those just entering the platform.
Even so, Sherlock was somewhat surprised.
Because when he found Harry, he noticed he had arrived completely alone and didn't seem to be in good condition.
This fact made Sherlock briefly doubt if he had found the wrong person.
Even if Harry had lost his parents, given his status in the magical world, wouldn't it be normal for ten or eight people to see him off?
Yet, he had arrived entirely alone.
When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
So Sherlock understood: the hero who saved the magical world hadn't grown up in the wizarding world but had remained in the non-wizarding world.
This made Sherlock even more interested in Harry.
"Just call me Sherlock," Sherlock shook Harry's hand. "It's crowded further up, let's sit here, Potter—or may I call you Harry?"
"Ah? O-okay."
Harry nodded subconsciously.
By the time he realized it, he found himself seated by the window in this compartment, guided there by Sherlock.
Sherlock then brought all of Harry's luggage inside, placing his own pet owl, Hedwig, alongside it.
Being completely taken care of by Sherlock, whom he had just met, didn't bother Harry much; instead, he felt considerably more secure.
Stepping into the magical world for the first time, he was internally panicking and desperately needed such an older-brother-like figure.
He even had a bold thought deep inside:
If only he could always follow Sherlock like this.
Compared to his cousin Dudley, this reliable-looking new classmate seemed like a real brother.
If Sherlock hadn't said so himself, Harry would have thought he was an older student.
Once they were settled, Sherlock looked Harry over again:
"You don't seem to have had a very good time of it."
Just that one sentence unleashed a strong urge in Harry to confide.
Seeing Sherlock's encouraging gaze, he poured out everything he had endured over the years.
Sherlock acted as a competent listener, nodding continuously and occasionally asking follow-up questions.
After their conversation, Sherlock had a more comprehensive understanding of Harry.
Even more interesting than he had imagined.
"So, your uncle brought you to the station today and then just left you? Fortunately, you received help from others and managed to get here successfully?"
"Exactly! I was wondering why he was suddenly so nice—wait, how did you know that?"
Harry was speaking when he suddenly felt something was wrong.
He stared at Sherlock in shock:
"I only said I've lived with relatives all these years, I didn't say it was my uncle!
And! How did you know I couldn't find the platform and got help from others?"
Sherlock was long accustomed to such reactions.
Initially, he had enjoyed this feeling.
After explaining his reasoning process in detail, seeing the astonished and admiring looks from others gave him a sense of superiority.
But after experiencing this many times, Sherlock had become indifferent to such reactions, finding them rather dull.
Now, he considered this ability commonplace, hardly worth mentioning.
Anyone could reach his current level with dedicated practice.
But others clearly didn't think so.
Like Harry before him.
Looking at his expression, Sherlock knew that if he didn't explain everything clearly, their friendly conversation couldn't continue.
(End of Chapter)