Miss Holmes, A Harry Potter Fan fiction

Part 1: Albus Dumbledore

My name is Aysel Holmes, the youngest of the Holmes siblings.
I, like my dearest brothers, couldn't exactly be qualified as 'normal' under any circumstances.

Sherlock, the high-functioning sociopath, got high from solving crimes and used some rather unusual tactics to solve his boredom resulting in some rather peculiar stories. 
Mycroft may have appeared slightly more normal from the exterior but had the same traits the rest of us did. Though, regretfully but honestly, I must acknowledge he has the strongest deductive abilities and brain capacity out of us three.
Then there was me, the youngest. I, much like Sherlock, had a fascination with science over all else driven by an ambition to understand every intricate detail of how the world worked. 
I didn't want to be a detective however, I couldn't be bothered to deal with people's petty little problems. I was controlled by a constant thirst to gain as much knowledge as possible. I devoured books in a matter of hours and retained that knowledge to gain an understanding of the bigger picture.

In a few months time I was going to university, despite being only 11. Although Sherlock and Mycroft were never the best brothers they always encouraged my learning and pushed me to the best academic level possible. For that, at least, I was grateful.

Until one day my plans changed. All due to a mysterious guest with a long beard and half moon spectacles.

'Aysel, dear, do put that book down and join us at the table' my mother yelled from the other room.

As much as she was proud of me she often found her patience thin when trying to separate me from my beloved books.

'Coming, mother' I replied reluctantly, carefully placing the book upon the oak counter and joining my family at the table.

I hated family dinners. Everything about them was utterly dull. The conversation was unstimulating and it was clear nobody wanted to be there, as much as my parents wanted to hide it.

''So, boys, how are your jobs doing?' My mother began, trying to fill the silence.

'Classified' Mycroft replied, in a bored tone, he obviously had more interesting things to think about.

'Rather interesting' Sherlock replied, strangely, he doesn't really care to say much when we gather as a family.
'We had a whole family of mangled corpses to examine' he then continued. That seemed more like Sherlock.

'Sherlock, not at the table whilst we're all eating!' Mother and Father exclaimed together. Really, I don't know why they didn't expect him to say something along those lines.

'You know what, I am not particularly hungry' I stated, placing my knife and fork together and leaving the table. 'In fact, I have far more interesting things to do'.

Both of my parents just sighed, they were used to this kind of behaviour now, they had had it from all three of the Holmes siblings.

I was just about to grab my book and settle down in the corner and read when the door bell rang.

'I'll get it' I yelled behind me, making my way to the front door.
I unhooked the latched and swung the door open revealing a rather tall man with a silvery beard going down to his waist. He had a long crooked nose where a pair of half moon spectacles sat with brilliant blue eyes behind them. He had a pleasant and kind demeanour that was not to be underestimated for it was clear he was a wise man of much knowledge.

'Are you Aysel Holmes?' He spoke calmly

'I am, and who might you be?' I inquired curiously. This man was by far the most strange I had been met.

'My name is Albus Dumbledore. May I come in?'