"...Who could it be at this hour?" Vernon glared at Harry, lecturing him as he walked toward the living room door. "Get going! If I don't see those socks washed clean in five minutes, you'll be in for it!"
Harry gave a listless reply, took a basin of socks, and walked toward the bathroom.
After opening the door, Vernon saw the distinguished-looking young man standing outside.
He stared with his small, round eyes, his fat face—where a neck was barely visible—having turned red from furiously reprimanding Harry just a moment ago.
"Who are you looking for?"
Looking at Sherlock's handsome appearance, Vernon mentally ruled out one possibility after another before asking cautiously.
A friendly smile appeared on Sherlock's face.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sherlock Cavendish, your nephew Harry Potter's Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. May I..."
"Bang!"
Looking at the door that had been slammed shut, leaving less than a centimetre of space from his prominent nose, the smile on Sherlock's face instantly froze.
From the content of the first book, he knew that the Dursley family's attitude toward Wizards was very unfriendly, but looking at it now, this could no longer be called merely unfriendly.
It was full of malice.
Having slammed the door shut with a violent reaction, Vernon stood there panting. Wearing slippers, he stormed back into the house, his emotions extremely agitated.
"Harry Potter! Harry Potter!"
He shouted, not only causing an innocent-looking Harry to walk out of the bathroom with his hands covered in soap bubbles, but also causing Aunt Petunia, who was preparing lunch in the kitchen, and Harry's cousin Dudley, who was playing video games in his bedroom, to come to the living room with panicked expressions.
"What's wrong, Vernon?"
Vernon didn't answer Aunt Petunia's question; he simply glared at Harry.
"Telling those freaks the home phone number is one thing! But you actually gave out the home address too! Who gave you the nerve, Harry Potter?"
Harry's face was filled with confusion at this moment.
He stared blankly at Vernon, unable to figure out which of his friends would come to visit him during the summer holidays.
His confusion was soon answered, because at that moment, the door to the Dursleys' living room was suddenly opened from the outside, and Sherlock walked in expressionlessly.
At this moment, Vernon displayed the fearless courage of protecting his family; he spread his arms and shielded Aunt Petunia and his son Dudley behind him.
But in Sherlock's eyes, this act of blindly trying to resist without even knowing whether the visitor harboured malice was extremely foolish.
"Get out of my house! You're trespassing! I have the right to attack you!"
Vernon was holding a baseball bat, putting on a fierce look that masked his inner cowardice.
Harry, on the other hand, was stunned as he watched Sherlock walk in.
"Professor Cavendish!"
Sherlock frowned at Vernon. Without any movement, the baseball bat suddenly broke free from Vernon's hand and floated in mid-air.
"According to Ministry of Magic law, Wizards cannot take action against Muggles, but that is on the condition that you do not display aggressive behaviour. Mr Dursley, do you know how dangerous your actions just now were?"
He didn't look at the Dursley family's expressions anymore and instead went straight to explaining his purpose.
"I came here at Professor Dumbledore's request. He wants me to take Harry out during the summer holidays to handle some matters, so I apologise for this presumptuous visit and any disturbance caused."
Sherlock's attitude was impeccable. At the same time, a letter flew out of his pocket and fluttered through the air until it reached Aunt Petunia.
"This is from Professor Dumbledore. He said that after you read the letter, you will let me take Harry away."
Vernon's face was livid, but he didn't say anything further at this moment.
Aunt Petunia, pale-faced, took the letter that had flown toward her.
Her hands trembled as she opened it. She scanned the contents quickly and finally looked up at Sherlock.
"You are... a professor at that school?"
Sherlock didn't speak; he turned his gaze to Harry, letting him do the introduction.
Harry felt very pleased seeing Vernon and Dudley frightened by Sherlock's magic. He cleared his throat and introduced him formally.
"This is a former outstanding Hogwarts graduate, a top Auror from the Auror Office, a master of defensive magic, and a Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts professor—Professor Sherlock Cavendish."
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
He had used such a long string of titles that the Dursley family probably couldn't understand any of them except for "teacher."
This kid was just trying to use his titles to bluff people.
However, the effect did seem quite good; the Dursley family did indeed seem bluffed.
The person communicating with Sherlock had now changed from Vernon to Aunt Petunia. She looked at Harry and then at Sherlock.
"How long are you going to take him away for?"
Sherlock mainly wanted to get out and relax this time. He calculated the time and gave a rough estimate.
"About two to three weeks."
Aunt Petunia pursed her pale lips. After hesitating for a long time, she continued to ask,
"Does he... still need to bring anything else?"
Everyone present understood her subtext; she had agreed.
Vernon immediately stared at her in disbelief, Harry cheered excitedly, and Sherlock shrugged as he replied.
"Nothing else is needed. Just bring whatever he needs as a Wizard."
Harry immediately rushed to his room. He had always lived in the cupboard until last year, when he grew too tall to stay there, and Aunt Petunia finally fixed up a room Dudley had vacated for him.
Soon, he ran out carrying Hedwig's cage in one hand, his wand tucked into his cuff, and a suitcase in the other.
"Thank you for your understanding. I wish you a pleasant life. Goodbye."
Sherlock nodded slightly to the Dursley family and then left with Harry.
The excited expression on Harry's face froze completely after hearing Sherlock's final blessing.
After leaving the Dursleys' house, he asked Sherlock nervously,
"Professor, were you being serious with your blessing to Aunt Petunia and the others just now?"
Sherlock said indifferently, "That was just courtesy. To be honest, I don't have a very good impression of your aunt's family."
Harry let out a sigh of relief.
Although he didn't really like Aunt Petunia's family either, if they were cursed by Sherlock and forced to live in pain for the rest of their lives because of that, it wasn't something Harry wanted to see.
Then he asked excitedly,
"Where are we going, Professor? Did Professor Dumbledore give us some secret mission?"
His happy appearance had now completely cast aside the words he had said to Hermione and Ron last semester about how he would rather stay at the Dursleys' house than go find Sherlock during the summer holidays.
Sherlock looked at the letter of introduction written by Dumbledore to Nicolas Flamel in his hand, which contained an address near Paris, France.
"No, we're just going to visit a friend of Professor Dumbledore's."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I remember Nicolas Flamel used to live in seclusion in Devonshire, but now I don't know why he moved to France... It seems the old couple like opera very much. Did they go to France to listen to opera?"
"Nicolas Flamel!"
Harry repeated the name in surprise.
Of course, he was very familiar with it. In his first year, the Philosopher's Stone he protected under Lord Voldemort's watchful eye belonged to Nicolas Flamel.
"Yes, Nicolas Flamel. He destroyed his Philosopher's Stone, but there are still some fragments with residual magic and high value left, which he wants to give to some young people. Professor Dumbledore asked me to take you to see him."
Harry looked fascinated and asked,
"Then how are we getting there? Floo powder? Apparition? Or riding a flying broomstick?"
Sherlock shook his head, pulled a business card from his pocket, and said casually,
"We'll go to a car rental company, rent a car, and drive there."
Harry opened his mouth wide enough to fit an apple inside.
"Drive... a car? You mean a car?"
"Otherwise, why would I tell your aunt that I'm taking you away for two weeks? If we used magic to go to France and come back, it wouldn't even take a day."
Sherlock hailed a taxi with him. The driver frowned and glanced at Hedwig in Harry's hand, but eventually let them get in.
In fact, even a road trip from Devonshire in Britain to Paris, France, would take at most two days round trip, and if one hurried, it could even be completed within a single day.
But Sherlock had mainly come out this time to relax. He didn't intend to head straight to Paris; instead, he planned to stop here and there along the way, and whenever he felt the time was right, he would head to the final destination.
At the car rental company, Sherlock paid the deposit, completed the paperwork, and rented a Ford.
In his previous life, Sherlock had obtained his driver's licence at university. Although the car setup here in Britain was a bit different from what he was used to, it wouldn't take long to adapt.
After getting into the car, Harry let Hedwig out of the cage and allowed her to hop around happily on the back seat.
From birth until now, he had never been on a long trip. This time, going on a road trip to another country with Sherlock made him feel incredibly excited and curious.
"Where are we going first, Professor?"
Sherlock was studying a map of Europe, planning the upcoming route.
But when he inadvertently looked up and saw the loose, baggy clothes Harry was wearing—which were clearly Dudley's old hand-me-downs—he blinked and smiled.
"We'll go to a Muggle shopping centre first to buy some things. Since we'll be spending most of our time in this car, we might as well buy some snacks too."