Both Harry and Sherlock were in similar positions, thinking, although Harry was on the floor, staring into the fire place, and Sherlock was curled onto her chair. The family had just gotten a new case and neither had moved an inch. Hamish didn't mind, he was too absorbed in his Algebra Textbook while Joan worked on her blog, although she did frown every so often at the duo. " The maid did it. With a cleaver. Quick, call Lestrade and tell him she's about to board a flight to Paris" both announced in unison, standing up. Hamish, in his typical side-kick like behavior, bolted up and grabbed the phone.
Hamish didn't mind on the fact that while his big brother and mother got to chase criminals down he had to make calls. In his eyes, Harry was his hero. He only had to tell what he called 'the birds' (Scotland Yard), the details, relying on not Harry nor Sherlock, but his brain,which was mainly devoted to math and science 75% of the time. "Uncle Lestrade? Go to the airport, Gate 75. The Murder'r is about to escape on the next flight in... 25 minutes. Her name is Angelica Watergate. She was the maid for the Smith's, weapon is a cleaver. And bring the police"
Time Skip------------
To say Harry was utterly confused was an understatement. He had been playing his violin in his room when an owl swooped through the open window (Even though it was Winter, fresh air made him think more clearly), plopped a letter on his messy and cluttered desk (Although no-where as messy as Hamish's), and flew off. Now he was pacing, his long, dark blue coat that he rarely took off swishing behind him as he stared at the letter in his equally blue-gloved hands.
Sherlock and Joan, hearing their son stop, peeked into his room. "Oh, hi Mom, Mom. What is this?"
Joan stared at the letter. "Hogwarts witchcraft and wizardry? Send a letter by owl? Order of Merlin? Sherly, I feel like you have something to tell us"she said, turning towards her wife.
Hamish was dressed the same as his brother, although his attire was black. Hearing his brother sounding way to confused, he abandoned his textbook, sprinting up the stairs in time to hear his mom say "Harry, and probably Hamish as well, although I need a definite DNA check, are wizards. Just like I'm a witch"
YOU ARE READING
Harry Holmes
FanfictionHarry knows he's adopted. He knows how to play the violin too. And he has excellent eye-sight although he wears glasses. He is both his parent's, dead or alive, through and through. But when he gets a letter on a Sunday, things change. And Hamish, H...
