Chapter 99: Roadtrip

"Who might that be at this late hour?" Vernon asked, a stern gaze fixed on Harry. With threatening regularity, he called towards the living room door. "Get a move on, boy! If I don't see those socks smelling like flowers within five minutes, you will regret it!" The oppressive tone in his voice was far from subtle.

Harry, weary and feeling the weight of harsh discipline, nodded compliantly and carried a basin full of socks towards the washroom.

Vernon was met by an imposing figure when he cautiously opened the door to a man of striking stature, patiently waiting outside. His rounded eyes, embedded deep within chubby cheeks that almost seemed eaten up by his bulky neck, tossed a glaring stare towards Harry, their severity causing his face to flush a vivid red.

"May I ask who you're looking for?" Vernon questioned, warily taking in Sherlock's striking appearance, mentally crossing-off all the possible visitors he could be expecting.

Sherlock countered with a warm smile. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sherlock Forester, your nephew Harry Potter's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Could I kindly ask..."

'BANG!'

With an abrupt crash, the door barely missed Sherlock's nose as it was violently shut before him. The once friendly smile on Sherlock's face, froze in a moment of startled silence.

He was already aware from the first book that the Dursley's didn't entertain a friendly rapport with Wizards, but this instance felt like downright hostility. A still panting Vernon, stood rooted in place, his feet clad in worn-out slippers and emotions scattered as he retreated into his house.

"Harry! Harry Potter, get over here NOW!"

Vernon's booming voice echoed throughout the house, not just summoning Harry, who had his hands occupied with soapy water, but also Aunt Petunia busy with lunch preparations in the kitchen, and Dudley, engrossed in his video game upstairs, leaving all of them rushing towards the commotion in the living room.

"Vernon! What's the matter?" Aunt Petunia questioned, but Vernon merely glared in Harry's direction without offering an explanation.

"So beside giving our phone number to those strange folks, you decided to recklessly pass around our address as well!? How could you, you dimwitted freak!"

Harry's face was flushed with confusion, he was utterly clueless as to which one of his friends had shown up unannounced during the summer holidays.

However, his confusion was quickly dispelled when, out of the blue, the Dursley's living room door creaked open from the outside. Sherlock stepped in, an expression of impassivity on his otherwise handsome face.

Displaying an attitude of defiance and determination to shield his family, Vernon spread his arms wide in protection, trying to shield Petunia and Dudley. Nonetheless, Sherlock perceived this futile display of resistance as pitifully foolish.

"Out of my house at once! You're trespassing! I can legally use force if necessary!" He brandished a baseball bat menacingly. Harry, upon seeing Sherlock's unexpected entrance, was momentarily caught off guard.

"Professor Forester!"

Sherlock glanced disapprovingly at Vernon. He didn't move a muscle yet the baseball bat went sliding out of Vernon's grip, floating eerily in mid-air.

"The laws enacted by the Ministry of Magic strictly prohibit wizards from confronting Muggles, unless provoked first. Mr. Dursley, are you aware of the severity and potential danger of your recent actions?"

He paid no attention to the expressions of shock on the Dursley's faces and went straight to stating his purpose of visit.

"I am relaying a message on behalf of Professor Dumbledore. He beckons Harry to run a few errands during the summer break, which brings us here, unfortunately interrupting your day. My apologies on his behalf."

Sherlock responded with an impeccable demeanor as a letter drifted smoothly from his pocket and elegantly floated towards Aunt Petunia.

"Heavily stressing its importance, Dumbledore insisted you read this note. He also added that after you peruse it, you would willingly allow me to accompany Harry on this venture."

Vernon's face drained of any color but he didn't dare utter another word.

Petunia carefully picked up the letter, her fingers slightly shaking and her face turning a ghastly white. After thoroughly reading the contents, she finally directed her gaze towards Sherlock.

"Are you... a teach at that 'school'?"

Sherlock didn't respond. Instead, his gaze shifted towards Harry, silently signalling him to reply.

With an amused reminder of Vernon and Dudley's fearful reactions to Sherlock's magic, Harry barely suppressed his laughter. Clearing his throat, he then proceeded to formally introduce,

"This man is the prestigious alumnus of Hogwarts, a distinguished Ex-Auror at the Ministry of Magic, renowned master of defensive magic and my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts - Professor Sherlock Forester."

Sherlock merely rolled his eyes at the exaggerated introduction.

Although Harry's introduction was rather lengthy, the Dursleys likely didn't understand any part of it, save for the term "professor". It seemed Harry was only attempting to boast about his numerous titles.

Admittedly, the tactic seemed to have worked. The Dursleys appeared utterly dumbfounded. The reins of conversation swiftly shifted from Vernon to Petunia. She alternated her gaze between Harry and Sherlock before inquiring.

"How long do you intend to keep him?"

Sherlock was mainly looking forward to enjoying a leisurely time during this trip. He contemplated and then casually mentioned a rough estimate.

"Roughly two to three weeks, give or take."

Petunia pursed her thin lips. After a prolonged hesitation, she finally managed to ask,

"And... what should he bring along?"

Her hidden meaning was understood by all present - she had consented.

Immediately, a stunned Vernon looked at her disbelievingly, Harry burst with excitement whilst Sherlock merely shrugged and replied nonchalantly.

"Nothing much, just the usual wizard essentials, like his wand, his owl and school supplies would suffice."

With that, Harry instantly darted towards his room. He no longer resided in the cupboard under the stairs. He moved last year, after 'outgrowing' the tiny space, into a room formerly occupied by Dudley.

Grasping his pet owl Hedwig's cage, his wand securely tucked in his sleeve and an additional suitcase in his other hand, he rushed out, beaming with excitement.

"I appreciate your understanding, I promise to look after your nephew to the best of my abilities. I wish you all a pleasant time. Goodbye."

Sherlock acknowledged the Dursley family with a curt nod before making his departure with Harry. The excitement which was profoundly evident in Harry's demeanor a moment ago abruptly froze at Sherlock's parting words.

As soon as they were at a distance from the Dursleys, he couldn't hold back his questions anymore and anxiously asked Sherlock.

"Professor, you don't hold any ill intentions towards my relatives, right? Your pleasant wish..."

Sherlock cut him off nonchalantly, "Those were merely hollow pleasantries. Frankly, I don't think too highly of your aunt's family."

Harry heaved a sigh of relief.

Despite his dislike of his relatives, he would be devastated if their sufferings were magnified by Sherlock casting a curse on them. His apprehension dissolved, only to be replaced by curiosity,

"So where are we going, professor? Has Professor Dumbledore assigned us a secret mission?"

His enthusiasm masked any traces of his prior promise to Hermione and Ron - that he'd rather stay with the Dursleys than spend his summer vacation with Sherlock.

Sherlock, after inspecting the introduction letter written by Dumbledore to Nicolas Flamel that contained an address in Paris, France, paused and stroked his chin in thought.

"No, we're merely paying a friendly visit to an acquaintance of Professor Dumbledore's."

"Nicolas Flamel!" The name slipped from Harry's mouth as he attempted to recollect.

Indeed, he was quite familiar with the name. It belonged to the owner of the Philosopher's Stone which he had painstakingly guarded from Voldemort's clutches during his first year at Hogwarts.

"Yes, that very same Nicolas Flamel. Since the Philosopher's Stone has been destroyed, all that remains are a few fragments embedded with magical properties which hold considerable value. He wishes to gift these to a few deserving youngsters. Hence, as requested by Professor Dumbledore, I am taking you with me to hopefully fetch one," Sherlock clarified.

Harry's excitement couldn't be contained.

"So how are we traveling? Will we be using Floo powder? Apparating? Or a broomstick perhaps?"

Sherlock merely shook his head, drew a business card from his pocket and casually mentioned,

"No, we're just going to rent a car and drive there."

Harry's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Drive…? A Muggle car?"

"Why else would I inform your Aunt about our two week trip? We could have easily traveled to France using magic and returned within a day."

Sherlock gestured for a cab, and as he climbed in with Harry, their driver frowned at Hedwig but chose not to comment.

In reality, even a cross-country drive from Devon, UK to Paris, France would take no more than two days. If they were to rush, a round trip could be completed in a day.

However, Sherlock preferred a more leisurely pace. He simply desired to relax. There was no urgency to reach Paris instantly. The plan was to casually explore the surroundings and proceed towards the destination at his own convenience. He thought it would do both him and Harry well.

At the rental agency, Sherlock completed the necessary formalities, deposited the required security and rented a Ford Sedan. In his past life, Sherlock had procured his driving license during his university days. Even though the design of UK cars differed slightly from his previous encounters, he was sure it wouldn't take him long to adjust.

As Harry hopped into the car and waved his owl Hedwig out of her cage, allowing her to mischievously bounce around the back seat, his excitement was palpable.

Being part of a road trip was a completely novel experience for Harry and so was leaving the Isles for that matter. This unexpected journey with Sherlock, transcending national borders, was indeed a thrilling episode.

"What's our first stop, professor?"

Sherlock had been studying a map of Europe, plotting their course of travel.

However, as his gaze fell upon Harry's baggy hand-me-down clothes, a hint of a smirk flashed across his face.

"First, let's make a pit stop at a Muggle mall to procure some necessities. We will be spending the majority of our trip inside this car, so a few snacks wouldn't be a bad idea."