Time always slips away unnoticed.
The Hogwarts summer holiday had already passed for more than a month.
On this day, the telephone in the living room of 128 King's Road rang urgently.
Mrs. Holmes happened to be coming out of the kitchen, wiped her hands, and hurried to answer the phone.
"Hello, this is the Holmes residence—oh, Harry!"
Hearing him identify himself, her voice immediately became cheerful.
"Are you still living on Privet Drive?
What? Coming over today? That's wonderful!
You might not believe this, but our family just got back from Hawaii yesterday—"
And so, Mrs. Holmes held the phone and chatted with Harry on the other end for quite a while.
"No problem, I'll tell Sherlock. You just come right over!"
After hanging up, Mrs. Holmes immediately said excitedly to Sherlock, who was reading in the living room.
"Sherlock, Harry says he's coming to our house today, along with his godfather!"
"Thank you, Mother."
Sherlock had already determined through Mrs. Holmes's voice that Harry was on the other end of the phone.
He just hadn't expected his mother would chat with Harry for so long.
In the end, he hadn't even managed to say a word to Harry.
She really did treat Harry as the Holmes family's second son.
"We just got back, and Harry's already planning to come to our house. What a coincidence!"
"It's not a coincidence."
Sherlock closed his book and shook his head.
"Harry has to stay on Privet Drive for a full month every year. Coming over now is just right on schedule."
"So that's why you said we should return to London a few days ago?"
"That's one aspect. Another reason is that I received a letter."
A few days ago, while still in Hawaii, he had received a letter.
That parchment was now on the desk in Sherlock's bedroom, bearing some words written in thin, slanting handwriting.
Dear Sherlock.
If it is convenient for you, I will come to pick you and Harry up this Friday afternoon at two o'clock to visit Horace.
I would be very happy to have your assistance.
Details when we meet.
Please send your reply with this owl.
See you Friday.
Yours faithfully,Albus Dumbledore
At the time, Sherlock had calculated the timing and knew Dumbledore's timing was precise.
Since his mission in Hawaii was already complete, he replied directly to Dumbledore and then had his parents bring him back to London.
Sure enough, just the second day after arriving home, Harry's phone call had come.
Obviously, he had also received Dumbledore's letter.
For this meeting with Professor Horace Slughorn, Sherlock's preparations were very thorough.
With Harry as a capable assistant to help, he was fully confident he could extract from him the secret he shared with Voldemort.
According to Dumbledore, that would be the key to unlocking the secrets of Voldemort and the Horcruxes.
At one o'clock in the afternoon, Sirius and Harry arrived as promised.
When the doorbell rang, the prepared Mrs. Holmes immediately opened the door.
"Harry!"
The moment she saw Harry, Mrs. Holmes immediately embraced him tightly.
This made Sirius, standing beside him, very gratified.
Good, Sherlock's parents really did treat Harry as the Holmes family's second son.
Just as Harry's grandparents had treated him years ago, considering him the Potter family's second son.
"Mr. Black, hello, please come in!"
Mrs. Holmes welcomed Harry and Sirius inside, then turned and called.
"Tarquin, Sherlock, Harry and Mr. Black are here!"
Harry looked at the familiar living room with some emotion.
It was no exaggeration to say that besides 4 Privet Drive, the place he was most familiar with was actually 128 King's Road, not 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Hey, Sherloc—good lord, why have you turned into Dean!"
Although he'd known early on that Sherlock had gone to Hawaii, seeing him so tanned after just a month still shocked Harry.
"Dean? Who's that?"
Sirius asked, puzzled.
"He's a dark-skinned boy in our dormitory who likes singing, dancing, rap, and basketball."
"Oh."
Sirius said understanding, then turned to Sherlock with a smile.
"It's been a while. Where'd you go?"
"Hawaii."
Sherlock's gaze swept over Harry and Sirius. "You Apparated directly from Privet Drive?"
"That's right."
Harry was already used to Sherlock's abilities and nodded.
Sirius, however, looked surprised. "How did you figure that out?"
"It's incredibly simple."
Sherlock seemed to not even deem it worth explaining, but still spoke very quickly.
"I observed that both your shoes have a small patch of red clay. As I understand it, that's exactly the type of soil from the Little Whinging area of Surrey County. If you want to disguise it next time, remember to use Scourgify in advance to remove traces from your person."
Hearing this, Sirius showed a look of realization.
When Sherlock put it that way, it really was quite simple.
"There's no real need for that, but how could you identify that the soil belongs to the Privet Drive area?"
"Mr. Black, didn't Harry tell you that this is common knowledge for me?"
"Common knowledge? You're saying that identifying at a glance which region a person's soil comes from is common knowledge?"
Sirius's eyes widened. Is there something wrong with your understanding of common knowledge, or is there something wrong with mine?
"Is there a problem?"
Seeing Sherlock's unemotional expression, Sirius began to doubt himself.
He couldn't help turning to Harry. "In the Muggle world, is this considered common knowledge?"
"In the Muggle world, no. For Sherlock, yes."
"Harry, thank you for your trust in me."
Sherlock said this while picking up a book from the table and handing it to Harry.
"I'm ashamed to say, this summer I originally planned to write several monographs.
But because I had to study Bartitsu, I ultimately only completed this one."
After Harry took it and opened it, Sirius also leaned in, and both couldn't help but be impressed.
"As you can see, this monograph is titled 'On the Distinction of Various Tobacco Ashes.'"
Sherlock smiled slightly and spoke eloquently to Harry and Sirius.
"Here, I've enumerated one hundred and forty varieties of cigar, cigarette, and pipe tobacco ash, with color illustrations explaining the differences between various ashes.
You may not believe this, but ash identification is evidence that often appears in criminal case trials, sometimes even becoming the most important clue in an entire case.
For instance, if you can determine that the murderer in a case smokes Indian cigars, your investigation range is greatly narrowed.
In the magical world, being able to distinguish different ashes is equally important.
Many cases in the Compendium of Magical Crimes are related to cigars, yet sadly the Aurors at the Ministry of Magic haven't recognized this.
To the trained eye, the difference between the black ash of Indian cigars and the white ash of bird's-eye tobacco is as distinct as the difference between cabbage and potatoes."
At this point, Harry and Sirius understood—
Sherlock was that "trained" person he spoke of.
When discussing this matter, Sherlock's enthusiasm was obviously high, and he continued to tell them.
"Actually, I also plan to write a new essay attempting to demonstrate how a person's profession can influence their hand shape.
Like this monograph, it would include illustrations of the hands of masons, sailors, wood carvers, compositors, weavers, and diamond cutters.
These would have great practical significance for both scientific and magical detective work.
Especially useful in cases involving unidentified bodies and investigating criminals' identities."
"..."
Watching Sherlock's enthusiastic manner, Harry and Sirius were speechless.
Harry flipped through a few more pages of "On the Distinction of Various Tobacco Ashes" and immediately lost interest.
Sirius, on the other hand, took it and began reading with great interest.
At this point, Mr. Holmes had also greeted them both, and after Mrs. Holmes served tea and refreshments, she left with her husband, leaving the living room to Sherlock and his two guests.
Harry recalled Sherlock's earlier words and couldn't help asking. "Sherlock, you mentioned you learned Bartitsu?"
"That's right. Going to Hawaii this summer was for that purpose."
Sherlock's gaze swept over Harry and Sirius with his customary scrutinizing look, as if evaluating certain physical data.
"Bartitsu?"
Harry asked curiously, "Is it like the boxing we practice during morning training at Hogwarts?"
"There are similarities, but the essence is different."
Sherlock shook his head, his tone like when he'd just been distinguishing between two types of ash.
"The boxing during morning training is fundamental, more focused on basic physical coordination.
I think you should have noticed that when I taught you boxing, the movements were sweeping and expansive.
That's because it prioritizes stretching muscles and stimulating potential—it's foundational physical training."
"But when I punched Malfoy—"
"He was too chicken."
Sherlock said without courtesy.
"The idea that wizards should use wands to fight is deeply ingrained in him, so he never imagined you'd use your fists to teach him a lesson.
Moreover, his physical condition isn't as good as yours, so his fragile jaw naturally couldn't withstand such a blow."
"...Alright."
Harry found himself at a loss for words once again.
He walked to a relatively open area of the living room and adjusted his posture.
Having trained with Sherlock for three years, Harry now had some observational skills.
He noticed Sherlock lowering his center of gravity, his movements becoming unusually precise, with an indescribable sense of coiled power.
"The founder of Bartitsu was the Englishman Edward William Barton-Wright.
While working in Kobe, Japan, Mr. Barton deeply studied Japanese martial arts including Shinden Fudo-ryu jujutsu and Kodokan judo.
In 1898, he returned to England, determined to combine the Eastern martial arts he'd learned with Western martial arts to create a new fighting art.
He subsequently claimed to have invented a new martial art and named it Bartitsu after his own surname, working hard to promote it in Britain.
The esteemed Mr. Barton later devoted himself to clinical medicine, especially improving and innovating thermal, light, and radiation therapy methods.
He even later used the name Bartitsu to encompass his various treatment methods.
Through Mr. Barton's highly sophisticated refinement, Bartitsu can be said to integrate English boxing, grappling techniques, and a unique set of defensive and offensive techniques.
It emphasizes a philosophy of practical effectiveness and is an extremely combat-effective unarmed fighting system.
Its technical features include striking techniques, weapon skills, grappling techniques, and more.
Striking techniques include punches from English boxing, such as using both fists to attack an opponent's face and abdomen.
The lead hand can also block attacks and control the distance between opponents.
Leg techniques absorbed various low kicks from French Savate, especially the signature stamp kick, which can severely damage an opponent's knee.
Roundhouse kicks primarily target the midsection, with high roundhouse kicks rarely used to prevent opponents from exploiting openings."
As Sherlock explained, he demonstrated several movements.
"In terms of weapon skills, Bartitsu selected French la canne as the primary technical source for staff techniques.
Including striking opponents' eyes and wrists from a distance, using the staff tip to jab vulnerable areas like the abdomen and throat.
As well as using the staff body for blocking and defense, executing locks, and so on.
Additionally, there are techniques using clothing, handkerchiefs, and such to confuse opponents' vision.
Speaking of which, in my first year, during that encounter with Slytherin students on the stands, I actually unconsciously used Neville's toad, employing Bartitsu techniques."
Having finished, Sherlock returned to his normal stance.
"To put it metaphorically, if the previous boxing was the key to awakening dormant power, then Bartitsu is the precision tool for efficiently using that power.
The instructor in Hawaii was a master in this field—he defeated several ordinary strong men within three minutes. This training was very worthwhile."
Sirius, who had been studying the ashes, looked up with bright eyes.
"Sounds more exciting than the Disarming Charm! When can you teach me a few moves?"
"Sorry, with your current physical condition and combat habits, practicing Bartitsu directly would not only be ineffective but would also easily cause sprains."
Sherlock said without courtesy. "In this regard, you're not even as good as Harry. You should start with strengthening core strength and joint flexibility."
Hearing this, Sirius felt somewhat unconvinced.
But considering Sherlock's consistent observational abilities, he felt the kid might have a point, so he shook his head and continued studying the ashes.
Sherlock glanced subtly at Sirius, and when he sat back down on the sofa, he turned to Harry and asked.
"Old chap, when did you receive Professor Dumbledore's owl?"
Harry was taken aback, then nodded.
"The day before yesterday. He said today he'd take us together to see Professor Slughorn.
I'd already been at Aunt Petunia's for a full month, so I wrote to my godfather about this, and he came to pick me up."
Sherlock's gaze immediately sharpened.
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