Sherlock Holmes was a man far from ordinary. From a single smudge on a tail coat he could find an almost impossible fact. He could lie on his sofa for days and not speak at all. He played the violin like a proffesional and was the one and only consulting detective in the world.

One beautiful Monday morning Sherlock Holmes was again lay on the sofa daydreaming. I was searching for some food. Edible food. I opened the refrigirator and I retched.

"Sherlock? Are those human eyes?" From the sitting room Sherlock grunted something."What?"

"Its an experiment." Came the mumble. I rolled my eyes and found the milk bottle in the fridge. It was empty.

"Sherlock, Im off to get some milk." He grunted as I picked up my jacket and ran outside.

Seconds after I was outside I tripped. I picked myself up from the dusty ground. Several people around were chuckling. I looked up at the top of the staircase while dusting my cloak off.

There lying on the doorstep was a bundle. It was small, the size of a baby... I gasped. Seconds later I was running up the stairs with the lime green headed boy and into our flat. Sherlock had moved and was now playing the violin. The music waved through the house. Inside the bundle the baby shifted position. That got me out of my daydream.

"Sherlock!Sherlock" He stopped playing at once.

"What?" Then he noticed the bundle."What is that?" I smiled

"A boy"

"A boy" He repeated after me.

"Yes Sherlock a boy, take him, Ill read the letter out" When he made no move to take the boy I layed him on the couch and glared at Sherlock.

"Dear Holmes,

this letter may seem very funny and I swear all I write in this letter is true. The boy I left the letter with is a wizard. (I laughed, Sherlock kept his composed face) In the wizarding world he is famous. He happens to have just deafeated the darkest and most feared wizard in the world. Lord Voldermort. The boy was never named by his parents as they never found the right name. Possibly you already know what the wizarding world is with skills such as yours its hard to not notice the signs that are everywhere. The boy is believed to be with his relatives. I watched the family for a whole day and I swear he is never to see those evil bastards again. And Sherlock, you may not remember me anymore but I was in your 5th grade class, then I was transferred to another school. I was transferred to Hogwarts. A magic school. When the boy is 11, he will recieve a letter to go to this school.

Please take care of him,

Proffessor Minevra McGonnogall."

I burst out laughing. I couldnt help it.

Meanwhile Sherlock was looking at the boy.

"Its true." He stated. I stared.

"Excuse me?"

"Its true, Minevra was in my class, I remember her, very odd girl, she could always do stuff the rest of us couldnt. Take the boy to she can take care of him. At the age of five Ill start training him."

In the end Sherlock called him James Holmes. So mainly he was adopted by the one and only consulting detective. I was made godfather. At the age of five Sherlock did train James.

So at the age of 10 James was almost as good as Holmes, much better than Lestrade or me. It seemed as if for once Sherlock actually loved someone. He dedicated almost ALL of his time to James and they did their cases together.

The boy was just like his father in every way. Then came the day where James turned 11. We were all sitting around out breakfast table having a loveley breakfast. was fussing over us saying things like, "I`m not your housekeeper!" Then shed just laugh and pass us what we needed.

Sherlock was reading his paper while James was reading his, I was tring to read upside down when the most unexpectable thing happened. An owl came through the open window. In broad daylight! In a city!

The owl landed heavily on the table. I looked at Sherlock, who was still reading his paper. James was looking at some picture Sherlock was pointing out. After three whole minutes Sherlock turned to me.

"Oh, dont sit there staring, take the letter." I stared at him. Then slowly my eyes went to his beak where he was holding a letter. On the letter written in emerald thin writing was the name James Holmes.

I plucked it out his beak and passed the letter to James.

"Here, its for you." James waved his hand to the table.

"Leave it there" I nodded and I placed the letter. Suddenly Sherlock was in the air jumping.

"Sherlock?"

"A new case" I frowned.

"Where?" Suddenly Lestrade was at the door. I figured Sherlock must have seen him coming out of a cab or police car. He turned to Lestrade.

"Where?" Asked James. Lestrade nodded to the three of us as a greeting.

"Black is on the loose."

"Black?" I asked. Everyone turned to me looking at me as if I was funny in the head.

"Yes! Sirius Black, he murdered 13 people and blew up another, the biggest piece of the one who blowed up was a single finger." I shruddered. This guy seemed dangerous, but on the other hand Moriarty was worse.

James and Sherlock grabbed their clokes and I took my jacket.

The letter lay forgotten on the table.

When we came back to our flat we were beyond tiered. It seemed as if that man, Black as they called him was very endurable. We spent most of the time chasing him, well, James and Sherlock continued running, I stayed behind after half way. Sometimes my knee did hurt.

James instantly went to the forgotten letter and examined it under the light. Sherlock nodded approvingly and I just stared.

"Did I miss something?" James laughed.

"This could always be some bomb or whatever" I rolled my eyes. He didnt trust an envelope.

"Ok, so I suppose this person is old, the one that wrote this letter, that is calligraphy, no one writes like that now, this is parchment, no one uses parchment anymore. Therefore, I once more conclude this person is old. The sationary is of very good quality, possibly scotish. The writing is written with a quill or a fountain pen as you can see tiny dots of ink splashed there." He turned the letter open on which a crest was on. "This is from a school of magic, Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. The school is old as there is some latin written on it no new school has a crest like that so again this is a new school, as I said before the one who wrote this is old, now Id say this person is either the Headmaster or the deputy Headmistress." He ended with the string of observations and slumped down on the armchair. Carefully he opened the letter and read it out.

"HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Holmes,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress"

Sherlock turned to the letter, "Do you want to go?" He asked James with a sad look in his eyes. James shrugged as he pulled out the list of supplies.

"I suppose to do magic we need a wand, I dont want to become dependant of one, but I guess Ill go, after all magic can be unpredictable, remember that time I accidently shut that boy (the annoying fat one with a pig nose for a friend) (A/N I think we all know who that is...) behind the glass with the boa constrictior?" Sherlocks mouth twitched. I smiled broadly.

"I suppose." Sherlock ruffled James`already messy lime green hair.

"We should go get your supplies."

Sorry, I had to add some more to the chapter...

I hope you liked it.