"What if I'm the first witch?"
"What's that, Eurus?" Mycroft asks as he pours himself a glass of milk.
"If magic exists, wouldn't there have to have been a first person to use it, in effect, a first witch?"
"Hmm," Mycroft says noncommittally taking a sip from his glass as he looks down at his little sister who sits at the kitchen table carelessly rolling a rounded river stone in her hand.
"The first witch wouldn't have anyone to teach her magic. There wouldn't be any schools, or books, or records of any kind to guide her. She'd have to figure out all the rules on her own, by testing and experimenting. Don't you think?"
"Where are you going with this analogy, Eurus?"
"I've been experimenting. I came up with a technique. If I nod in a certain rhythmic way while talking to someone in a steady tone, I can make them susceptible to suggestion. I think it may be a type of hypnosis."
"Really?" Mycroft says hiding his mouth behind his glass.
"Yes," Eurus replies passing the stone from one hand to another. "I told Sherlock to pick up this stone when I dropped it, and he did it for me. He picked it up three times before he got bored and refused. Then I tried the technique on him, and when I told him to pick up the rock, he picked it up eleven times in a row, even though the last four times, I had dropped it into a pot of boiling water."
Mycroft put the glass down on the table. "Eurus," he said sternly, "Are you telling me that you told Sherlock to put his hand into boiling water?"
"Yes, interesting how he did it even though it hurt, isn't it?"
Mycroft walks out of the kitchen and runs up the stairs. He pushes open the door to Sherlock's room and finds him curled up on his bed crying. He's holding his hand to his chest. Mycroft carefully reaches out and lifts his hand to see that its flushed bright red.
"Mummy!" Mycroft calls. "Mummy, Sherlock is hurt!"
Mummy enters the room, "What is this excessive noise, Mycroft?"
"Mummy, Sherlock hurt his hand."
Mummy Holmes takes Sherlock's hand and looks at it exclaiming, "Oh my, Sherlock, what have you done to your hand?"
"He reached into boiling water."
"Whatever for? Oh my boy. You have such a penchant for getting into trouble. Stay here, I'll get my medicine kit, and put something on that burn."
Mycroft storms down the stairs and back to the kitchen to find Eurus pushing a cup around in circles on the table.
"Eurus, you hurt Sherlock. Mummy was very upset. You need to stop doing things that will harm your brother."
"But it was an experiment."
"No, Eurus. You must promise me that you will not physically hurt your brother like that again. Promise me!"
"Fine. I promise. I will not physically harm Sherlock again."
"Good. That's good. You've been very careless Eurus. You could have permanently harmed him. You must be more careful with your experiments."
Mycroft washes his glass, and then puts it in the dish tray to drain. As he walks past Eurus, a rock falls to his feet.
"Pick that up, Mycroft," Eurus says.
Mycroft glares at her for a second, and then walks out of the kitchen. But all the way down the hall and up the stairs he itches with the desire to go back into the kitchen, and pick up the stone.