After a summer of separation, the golden trio finally met again in front of Gringotts.
"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as they walked up the steps of Gringotts.
Before his friends could guess, Harry couldn't wait to reveal the answer himself.
"Malfoy and his dad!"
Before Hermione and Ron could say anything, Mr. Weasley became alert.
"What did he buy there?"
"No, he was selling things."
"The Ministry of Magic has been cracking down recently; he's scared," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll catch him out!"
"Be careful, Arthur."
Mrs. Weasley cautioned him as a goblin bowed, ushering them into the bank.
"That family is not to be trifled with. Don't bite off more than you can chew."
They chatted as they walked into Gringotts. After withdrawing the necessary money, the Granger family, the Weasley family, and Harry's group prepared to split up.
Just as Mr. Weasley was about to warmly invite Hermione's parents, the Grangers, for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, Mrs. Weasley suddenly grabbed her husband's arm tightly!
"Arthur!"
She looked unusually excited, her eyes fixed on something ahead, as if she had seen something incredible.
Mr. Weasley was a little baffled by her actions.
"What's wrong, Molly? What did you see..."
Following Mrs. Weasley's gaze, Mr. Weasley's words trailed off. He stared dumbfounded ahead, his eyes almost popping out!
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Percy, and Ginny curiously followed the Weasleys' line of sight.
It was the back of a young man. His back was straight, and his figure was slender. Just the back view alone made people subconsciously think that if this person wasn't handsome, then there was simply no justice in the world.
...
During the process of withdrawing money from Gringotts, Sherlock encountered no problems.
The verification method of this bank, run by goblins, was actually quite simple.
As long as someone brought the key to the vault and confirmed that they were the owner of the vault, the goblins would bring the person to the designated vault.
Therefore, the vault here was more like a registered safe deposit box. As long as one had the special Gringotts-issued key, one could deposit or withdraw money from the vault in person.
The original owner's assets in the magical world were not much. Even without asking the goblin who brought him here, Sherlock could tell at a glance that this vault contained at most a few hundred galleons.
Not much, but not little either.
For daily life, if one spends sparingly in the magical world, this money could last at least ten years.
Sherlock took out about fifty gold galleons and put them in a magical bag provided by Gringotts. Then, he left the bank.
The things he bought weren't actually that complicated. The most important were the usual stationery such as ink, quills, and parchment.
Others included a custom-made robe from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, an owl for sending letters from a magical pet store, and some basic books on Defense Against the Dark Arts from Flourish and Blotts, and so on.
Although he maintained a cold exterior, these things in Diagon Alley were incredibly novel to Sherlock, who had come to the wizarding street for the first time.
Children riding toy flying broomsticks low over the street, magical puppets constantly soliciting customers in front of the joke shop, and the magical world's ice cream sold in dessert shops—everything was so interesting.
Sherlock himself was not an introverted person like the original owner. His personality was more outgoing and cheerful.
Staying aloof in this kind of place finally made him unable to bear it.
According to the introduction, this ice cream could change its taste according to people's thoughts. As long as you named a flavour, that's what it would taste like in your mouth.
'What a great idea!'
Sherlock exclaimed in his heart.
Anyway, the original owner didn't have many acquaintances in the magical world at all. He just wanted to try it. Coffee-and-cake-flavoured ice cream would definitely be fine, right?
He missed the taste of Kaffee und Kuchen from his hometown of Tübingen.
And this magical ice cream in front of him seemed to perfectly solve his needs.
He gave himself a positive answer in his heart, and then walked to the ice cream cart, showing the ice cream vendor the first friendly smile to outsiders since he came to this world.
The vendor was a young witch, and she was stunned by Sherlock's smile as soon as she looked up.
That handsome, smiling face seemed to place her in a garden full of flowers; everything was so beautiful and wonderful! (TN: What the hell?)
"Y-you... you, do you need an ice cream, sir?"
The witch stammered.
Sherlock was about to eagerly take out a sickle from his pocket when a shout suddenly came from behind him.
"Sherlock!"
Sherlock was stunned for a moment, and then his face immediately froze.
They even called him by his first name instead of his last name!
He had acquaintances!
He reacted very quickly, immediately taking away the smile that had fascinated the witch like an actor, and returning to being indifferent and unapproachable.
"No, I don't need one."
Sherlock reluctantly bid farewell to his Kaffee-und-Kuchen-flavoured ice cream in his heart, and stiffly refused the witch.
Then, he turned to look at the group of people who had called his name.
That's right—it was a group of people.
Tall, short, fat, thin, there were more than a dozen people in total, most of whom were children.
And Sherlock recognized Harry Potter, who was inconspicuous in the group, and the family who had just helped him enter Diagon Alley, at a glance.
The one who called out Sherlock's name was a middle-aged wizard with red hair. The expression on his face was full of joy and excitement, as if he had met a long-lost relative.
After seeing these people clearly, Sherlock's heart suddenly fell to the bottom.
Harry Potter, a little girl with Muggle parents, and a family with a bunch of children and all red hair.
Even if he didn't know the plot of the original work, he could recognize who this group of people was.
The Weasley family and the Granger family, along with Harry.
And the male wizard who looked as if he had seen his son who had been separated for many years should be the father of the red-headed kids.
Sherlock didn't recall what his name was, but he could also be called Mr. Weasley.
Seeing Sherlock's face, Mr. Weasley was obviously even more excited, and next to him was a middle-aged witch who was even more excited than him.
Mrs. Weasley had a surprised smile on her face, and there were even tears in her eyes.
She stepped forward and grabbed Sherlock's hand.
"Child! You're finally willing to come out. Do you know that we haven't seen you for nearly two years since you left the Ministry of Magic? It's really gratifying. Thank Merlin..."
She wiped away her tears and choked out.
"Have you been doing well lately?"