128 King's Road, Kensington and Chelsea - Second Floor Master Bedroom
This was a room filled with strange specimens and old books.
Sunlight streamed through dust-covered windows, casting golden columns of light where dust mites danced freely, illuminating the boy's meticulous profile.
His fingers gripped a delicate scalpel steadily, his movements gentle yet precise, as if sculpting a priceless treasure.
This was twelve-year-old Sherlock Holmes.
Ever since the owl had delivered his Hogwarts acceptance letter last summer, his life had undergone tremendous changes.
What happens when a boy who firmly believes in science suddenly discovers he's a wizard?
—Where science and magic intersect, the story is about to begin.
After a year of study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Sherlock had now become a competent wizard.
At this moment, his already gray eyes were narrowed to slits, his expression focused with a hint of excitement.
It was as if everything around him had been shut out, leaving only him and the board before him in the entire world.
On the board was a toad.
A toad awaiting dissection.
After a moment, Sherlock took a deep breath, and the scalpel slowly descended.
The toad's abdomen was instantly opened with a neat incision.
As he carefully separated the toad's muscle tissue, its internal structure was laid bare before him without reservation.
Just looking at the organs, they gave an overall impression of translucency, as if wrapped in a special membrane.
This was due to what this toad had experienced in life—it had been repeatedly used as a subject for potion experiments.
Sherlock used tweezers to gently pick up what appeared to be a liver-like organ, observed it carefully for a while, then placed it in a nearby container.
His movements were swift and his technique skilled—clearly, this wasn't his first time doing such a thing.
Soon, what had been a complete toad was transformed into a pile of organs and tissues under his hands.
He took out prepared potions and began the next step.
As Sherlock worked, he contemplated knowledge about toads and potions in his mind.
Mainly, he was using the toad's dissection to verify some of his hypotheses.
Time flew by, and half an hour passed without notice.
Just then:
"Sherlock is upstairs, just go find him!"
The voice of Sherlock's mother, Mrs. Holmes, came from downstairs.
This was immediately followed by the sound of hurried footsteps coming up from below.
Sherlock's right hand paused almost subtly, his brow furrowing slightly.
In just three seconds, Sherlock had already determined the visitor's identity from his mother's tone and the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
However, he didn't stop his work but continued with his task.
Just then, the footsteps stopped abruptly at the door.
Sherlock's door wasn't locked, so the visitor didn't need to knock.
But after seeing this scene from the doorway, the person couldn't help but stare in amazement, eyes full of disbelief.
Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but was struck speechless by the sight before her.
After another moment, she finally couldn't help but speak:
"So... the reason you haven't been writing letters or calling me is because you've been doing this?"
Hermione Granger.
Sherlock's friend from Hogwarts.
She was the first classmate to get to know Sherlock.
Before school even started last year, the two had already met at the Leaky Cauldron.
After the official start of term, they had progressed from "acquaintances" to people who could call each other by name through their shared love of spending time in the library.
When Sherlock rescued Hermione from the troll on Halloween night, they officially became friends.
Both wizards came from Muggle families, and their family addresses were both in the Greater London area, so their parents got along well too.
For this reason, when the Granger family finished their trip and came to King's Road, Mrs. Holmes had let her go find Sherlock directly.
"Children have their own topics to discuss. We adults shouldn't interfere."
"Yes, yes, just let Hermione go find Sherlock directly."
Mr. Holmes also chimed in.
Mrs. Granger naturally had no objections—she also liked this observant little boy very much.
Especially after hearing from Hermione how he had deduced her and her husband's professions upon their first meeting, she praised Sherlock even more highly.
Mr. Granger, however, frowned slightly.
But since his wife had already given her support, he couldn't say anything more.
As for Hermione, after getting permission from the adults, she had rushed upstairs.
She had been to Sherlock's house more than once and naturally knew where his room was.
Seeing this, Mr. Granger felt somewhat melancholy.
But soon, he was pulled aside by Mr. Holmes.
"Come with me, there are some interesting things here..."
"Interesting things? Did you buy a new car?"
"What new car? This is more exciting than that, come quickly!"
"..."
A reluctant Mr. Granger was pulled aside by Mr. Holmes.
But after experiencing wizard chess, he was quickly attracted by this magical item from the wizarding world.
Confident in his chess skills, he immediately began a match with Mr. Holmes.
The result was predictable.
The seemingly moving pieces wouldn't obey Mr. Granger's commands at all, leaving him flustered and confused.
"Hey, don't send me there! Can't you see his bishop?"
"Listen to me, send him. Even if he's sacrificed, it doesn't matter."
"How dare you kill my knight!"
"..."
The two grown men played chess on one side, while the two wives sat together quietly drinking tea and chatting.
The summer holidays had just begun when the Granger family of three had gone abroad for vacation.
After returning, they hadn't gone straight home but decided to stop by the Holmes house first.
On one hand, Mrs. Granger had many travel experiences to share with her good friend Mrs. Holmes. On the other hand, Hermione wanted to ask Sherlock about some magic-related matters.
Although she had achieved first place in their year at the end of last term, she was well aware that in some subjects, she was more than a little behind Sherlock.
Both in theory and practice.
Even now, there were still many things she couldn't understand.
Under these circumstances, mother and daughter immediately decided: go to the Holmes house first!
King's Road happened to be on their way home anyway.
Though Mr. Granger wanted to object, he knew his opposition would be ineffective when his wife and daughter had already reached agreement.
So, he simply accepted the result.
This way, two fathers, two mothers, and two children were perfectly paired off in combinations.
However, Hermione hadn't expected that as soon as she went upstairs, she would witness such a shocking scene.
Meanwhile, Sherlock, after hearing Hermione's words, continued moving his scalpel methodically.
As if her voice were just an insignificant breeze that couldn't affect him at all.
Seeing Sherlock's demeanor, Hermione, who had been somewhat excited about reuniting with her friend after a long separation, immediately felt her expression fall.
Her mouth turned downward, and the light in her eyes dimmed somewhat.
But that lasted only a moment.
Soon, she raised her voice sounding clearly displeased,
"Sherlock, I'm talking to you!"
With that, she slammed a small box onto the table beside her with a dull thud.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped forward angrily, her cheeks flushing slightly with indignation.
But this had no effect whatsoever.
Sherlock continued to ignore her completely, not only keeping his eyes fixed on the toad but maintaining his steady hand movements without the slightest pause.
"Sherlock, you..."
After waiting another moment, just as Hermione was about to explode, Sherlock finally put down his scalpel.
He first gently moved his neck, which had become somewhat stiff from maintaining the same position for so long, producing audible cracks, then straightened up and spoke unhurriedly:
"Belgium or the Netherlands?"
"What are you talking about?"
Still angry, Hermione reflexively asked back.
Sherlock stretched his back, which had become stiff from sitting so long, then took a clean white cloth to gently wipe the blood from his fingers.
His movements were elegant and composed. As he wiped, he said:
"Hermione, this journey of yours must have been quite rewarding—from what I can see, you went to Belgium or the Netherlands, didn't you?"
Though phrased as a question, when it came from Sherlock's mouth, it carried the tone of certainty.
Upon hearing this, Hermione's anger that was about to flare up again instantly subsided.
Having spent a full year with Sherlock, she was already very familiar with his abilities.
But even so, she was still shocked by Sherlock's words.
She looked at Sherlock with an uncertain expression, her eyes flashing with amazement:
"You... how do you know? I haven't said a single word to you about it yet!"
After saying this, remembering Sherlock's past feats, she quickly looked down to examine herself carefully.
Up and down, left and right, front and back, as if trying to see what traces on her body had led Sherlock to make this deduction.
Unfortunately... she couldn't see anything.
By this time, Sherlock had also finished organizing his equipment.
He walked toward Hermione with steady steps: "Your skin has darkened—that's the result of prolonged outdoor exposure.
And your dress, shoes, and luggage... they all told me this.
I can see you've cleaned them, but without using spells, traces inevitably remain.
First, this mud obviously didn't come from London—that's beyond doubt.
Second, its color is dark, and it contains fine sand particles.
This indicates it's near the estuaries of multiple rivers and the ocean, repeatedly washed and infiltrated by seawater, making the soil extremely high in salt content.
After drying, not only does the color become this dark, but the sand particles also adhere due to salt crystallization, creating this unique texture.
Combined with your travel dates, only the border region of Belgium and the Netherlands fits these conditions.
Besides that, there's your coat."
He leaned close to Hermione and lowered his head slightly, gently sniffing.
This action made Hermione's face turn slightly red, the blush quickly spreading from her cheeks to her ears.
But soon, her attention was captured by Sherlock's next words.
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