Chapter One: Teddy

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the next installment of The Family Holmes. This one is chaptered, and meant to explore Sherlock's past. A guest made a guess as to who the family consisted of, and got two out of three right. I couldn't tell if they were disappointed or not; I hope it isn't too unoriginal. Maybe they will like my twist on it? In any case, here is the first chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or BBC Sherlock, or anything else that is recognizable. The world would be sorry if I did.

Sherlock watched John nervously as they walked to Tesco's. The army man was tense and hunched, protecting his neck from the wind, and studiously not looking at the detective. Sherlock couldn't blame him, though he desperately wished he could. John wasn't the one just returned from the dead, after all.

It had been a few weeks since that day, and things were strange in 221b Baker Street. John was alternately angry and affectionate. Sherlock for his part was ill at ease when forced to leave John's presence; it had been a hard three years without his blogger. John would sometimes indulge him, letting the taller man cuddle up to him of all things, while other times pushing him away in frustration. He wasn't the one to jump of a building to play dead.

Then there was Mary, and Sherlock had to hold back a growl. Mary Morstan: small, friendly, and perfectly dull. The detective could not see what was so special about the woman, other than being filthy rich, and John wasn't the type to care about that kind of thing. No, she must have drugged him, maybe with a love potion. Mummy would know about those, maybe he should ask him. Oh, and tell him that his darling boy was alive. No, Mycroft probably already did. Back to Mary: yes, she was truly fiendish. She didn't even react properly at all his subtle attempts to get rid of her. She just smiled at him like he was cute and it only made John even angrier.

"What is your brother up to now?" John asked, and Sherlock followed his gaze to the black sedan. One of Mycroft's, then. "Usually when he kidnaps me, it's alone."

"Who knows? Ignore it." John frowned at him, folding his arms across his chest.

"What? You don't like Mycroft, either." John continued to glare, before sighing and nodding and they both continued on their way.

"I don't think I could put up with another Holmes today." Sherlock frowned, grabbing John's hand. The shorter man raised an eyebrow, but squeezed the violinist fingers comfortingly.

"Lock, you better get in this car." Sherlock froze, turning around slowly. John did the same, observing the man who caused such a reaction curiously. He was tall, taller than Sherlock, with a mess of blue hair. It was quite the contrast with his professional looking shirt and trousers.

"Teddy, what are you doing here?" The man in questioned gestured to the car, looking at them expectantly until they complied.

"You are in some deep trouble, mate. Guess who just found out you're alive?"

"Mummy." Sherlock frowned out the window as they moved away from the curb. "I don't have time to leave London right now, Teddy."

"Well, you don't have much choice, do you?" Teddy turned to offer his hand to John, who shook it. "I'm Teddy, if you couldn't tell. I'm this idiot's older brother."

"John Watson, his flatmate. Excuse me, did you say older brother? There are more of you?"

"You wouldn't believe the number of times I hear that," Teddy joked. "Sherlock, have you really told him nothing about us? Mycroft said you two were close."

"We are. He never asked." Teddy rolled his eyes, facing John again.

"Merlin, how do you live with this guy? Anyways, I am bringing you two home to Mummy. Mycroft will probably be by later, with your things for the week. Think of it as vacation, only don't because Siger is going to be home, too. He's our youngest brother. Put him and Sherlock together and you get a house blown up."

"Are there more of you?" John asked, laughing nervously.

"Nah, that's it for the Holmes brothers. Dad is going to be home late tonight though, Lock. Try not to distress Mummy. And tomorrow, the Weasleys are coming for dinner."

"Which ones?"

"All of them." Teddy laughed at Sherlock's wide eyes, his hair turning red. John blinked.

"Did that just-? No, it couldn't have—"

"Merlin's beard, what do you two talk about?"

"The world doesn't revolve around magic, Theodore. Do close your mouth, John. His hair does that, you'll get used to it."

Teddy whistled lowly. "You're sure going to be in for a surprise, John. Sorry I didn't warn you, but I figured Lock told you about something of his growing up. It's better this way though, I guess. It won't be quite so surprising when we get home."

"There is such thing as the Statute of Secrecy," Sherlock muttered darkly.

"Yeah well, who's really going to bother us? Plus, Mycroft says John might as well be family."

"He said that?" John was quite pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah, he's quite fond of you."

"John's better than family," Sherlock muttered, grabbing John's hand again. Teddy ignored him.

It was about an hour drive to Sherringford Manor, and Teddy spent it questioning him on "muggle" things, whatever that meant. He also tried to warn him on what to expect. Talking portraits, something called a house elf, and not to get Mummy angry. Despite the weirdness of the conversation, John found himself liking Teddy. He was a lot more likeable than the Holmes he was used to, and when he mentioned that, Teddy laughed and said he was adopted.

When they finally pulled up, John had to hold back a gasp. He knew Sherlock came from money, of course, but it was different seeing it in person. The house was huge; three stories, most likely longer than their block, and with a long sprawling garden complete with it's own pond. John couldn't imagine growing up here.

"Sherringford Manor, home of the Holmes for generations," Teddy introduced as they stepped out of the car. "Our father gave it to Mummy as a wedding present. Thank goodness, too. He and I were living in Grimmauld Place at that time. I don't remember much, I was pretty young, but just thinking of the name gives me the creeps. Mummy was never happy there, and was eager to leave."

"I didn't know about Grimmauld Place," Sherlock commented as he led John inside. "I don't think that was in the list of Potter properties."

"Nah, Mummy got it from his godfather, Sirius Black. What do you know about the Potter properties?"

"Well, I had to stay somewhere on the run. Mycroft made sure Mummy never noticed."

"Hang on," John interrupted. He had been silently following the conversation on their walk to what appeared to be a sitting room. He was more interested in the high ceilings and classy yet inviting furniture. "I know that name. Sirius Black…wasn't he a serial killer, or a bomber or something?"

"That's what the record says, yes. Responsible for the murder of thirteen muggles," Teddy answered without batting an eyelash.

"Best not to mention it," Sherlock intoned. John sank down into the closest available chair. The brothers continued to talk, exploring the room like they have never been in it before. All their eyes snapped to glass French doors John hadn't noticed led to outside as they banged open.

John was not prepared for the storm in those sea-green eyes.