I am putting the Sherlock and HP series in the same timeline, since they're a little off from each other.

October 30, 1981

Office of Minerva McGonagall

Minerva had been working on grading a few of the horribly written essays from her Sixth Year students, when her fireplace flared green, causing her to jump.

"Professor, are you there?" a familiar voice asked, and Minerva chuckled at herself before answering.

"Come through, Mr. Watson, and stop calling me Professor! I haven't been your professor for almost two years now," she said, and a shorter man with sandy-blond hair and a toned figure stepped through, frowning slightly. "What's happened this time? You're not injured again, are you?"

"No, Pro- Minerva. I just had to get out of my flat for a little while. I'm going stir crazy without being able to fight on the front lines anymore," John Watson muttered as the older woman ushered him to a seat in front of her desk. "I'm also worried about James and Lily. They've been quiet lately. I haven't gotten a single letter from them."

Accepting the tea his former professor handed him, he sighed.

"Last I heard of them, John, they'd went into hiding with their son. Rumor has it that You-Know-Who is after them. They just named either you or Frank and Alice as caretakers of Harry if something were to happen," Minerva stated, and he just about choked on his tea.

"What?! I don't have the slightest knowledge on how to take care of a child, and the child has never even MET me!" He yelped, his normally calm blue eyes wide at the thought of them naming him caretaker.

"They seem to think you are a good choice. I doubt something will happen, as Albus placed them somewhere safe under the Fidelus, but it's just in case," Minerva said comfortingly, and her former student relaxed with a soft sigh.

"I'm rough around the edges, and I still have problems with my side and arm after that curse got me. It's hard to hide from my flatmate," he said tiredly, and her eyebrow rose.

"I thought you left the wizarding world for a quiet life," She stated, but it was truthfully an unasked question.

"So did I, but my flatmates a bit...crazy. He's involved with Scotland Yard, helping them solve crimes. Crazy would be the appropriate word," John chuckled, and Minerva frowned.

"So it seems. You're not worried that he'll figure out-" She started, but he cut her off.

"-That he'll figure out that it's not a bullet wound, but the after effects of a curse?" John asked, amused, and she snorted at him.

"Well, yes," she said, nodding her head to emphasize her agreement to his question.

"He has yet to wonder how the tea makes itself every morning," John chuckled, and Minerva couldn't help but laugh along with him. Suddenly, a noise came from her former student's pocket, and she tensed.

"Sherlock, I swear...," He grumbled, and pulled a device out of his pocket, looking at it and then shoving it back into his pocket, standing. "I'm sorry, Pr-Minerva, but I have to go. My flatemate is wondering where I am."

"Be careful, John. Goodnight," She said, and he nodded distractedly before fluing away to find his flatemate. Only when he was gone, did Minerva smile and snort in amusement.

"Who knew that Mr. Watson would've fallen for his own flatemate?" She asked herself, and got back to grading the essays, almost groaning in distress as she once again gave another Terrible.

It would be a long night after all.