Wonderful timing. He had stopped Sherlock Holmes from leaving London. Time to start a new game. This game will be so much better than the last one. This game will be great. He might add magic to this. Just the thought of planning the next bit out gives him immense satisfaction.
But this time the rules will be different. And Sherlock would get a dance partner. He picked up the file he has been provided anonymously (obviously) containing information about Hermione Granger. Well he had some rudimentary knowledge about her. After all she was the 'Brains' of The Golden Trio, who in the magical community did not know her? Then on the other hand he had Sherlock Holmes. A celebrity on his own right. Shivers run up his arm. This will be so exciting. Like hundred times more exciting. This time he would pull strings in both worlds.
Last time was good, really good but this time it will be so much better. He smiles at the name flashing on the screen. Time to bring her back. He puts it to his ear and speaks into the speaker, "Darling Mari! Did you get the plane tickets I sent you?"
A heavily accented voice replies, "Of course. I am dying to come there."
He laughs at the barely concealed enthusiasm in her voice.
The plane touches ground. Hermione stands up and says, "I guess I ought to disapparate. It will be quite awkward explaining my presence here."
Sherlock looks up and just nods. She disapparates with a loud crack. She decides to apparate back at The Burrow. Harry needs to know.
As soon as the gate gets opened, Sherlock jumps to his feet, wondering what could have possibly happened to bring him back around. He goes down the stairs and sees the myriad expressions on John, Mary and Mycroft's faces. John looks worried, Mary looks confused and Mycroft looks annoyed. He asks Mycroft, "What?"
Mycroft smirks, "No. It is a who."
Sherlock frowns. Mycroft points him to get inside the car. He keenly watches his little brother's face as the video plays.
Sherlock's frown deepens. How could Moriarty fake his death? He—oh, magic of course now that he could guess the connection between Moriarty and Zabini. He looks at his brother. He says, "I need to talk to you alone. Come by at 221B after an hour or so."
John frowns. He feels as if he is missing something, "Sher-"
"Go home John. I will see you later."
John's face falls. He knows by now Sherlock is definitely hiding something from him. He feels Mary tugging at his sleeve. She whispers, "Let it be. He will tell you when he is ready."
He nods and gives Sherlock one last disapproving nod as he leaves with Mary. Drama queen forever, he grumbles silently.
"Now what brother mine?" Mycroft asks as he watches the Watsons leave.
Sherlock says, "I need to contact Hermione."
"Whatever for?"
"I need her help."
Mycroft's eyebrows rise up his forehead in surprise. His little brother hardly ever asks for help. He just orders people around. He allows himself a self-indulgent smile, "Okay. I will drop you then?"
"No. I will take a taxi. I need to think."
Hermione apparates at the Burrow. The sun is starting to set. Her head right now is reeling. If the biggest psychopath in the Muggle world is really connected to the most ruthless killer in the magic world—she did not want to think of the consequences.
She spots Harry standing at the Burrow's entrance. They make eye contact. He says nothing as he waits for Hermione to start explaining. She mutters, "Not now, later."
Harry nods. He understands from the grim set of her face, she has something serious to say.
Hermione trudges up the stairs. As she opens the door, a small warm body barrels into her and throws short arms around her. She looks down and a huge smile breaks on her face. It is Hugo. He looks up at her with a teary face, "Mum?"
"Yes?" Hermione asks, her heart clenching at the thought that after tomorrow she would have to leave with Rose and Ron would leave with Hugo. Then this new threat hovering in the air makes her even more nervous.
Hugo scrunches up his face and says, "Where were you? I missed you."
Hermione kneels down and strokes his soft red hair, "I had work darling. But I am here now."
"Can I sleep with you tonight?"
"Of course! Where is Rose?"
"She is in the kitchen with grandma."
"I-", her phone starts ringing. It is Sherlock. Hugo's soft brown eyes, not unlike her own, with its silent pleading are at war with her conscience. She covers the phone with her hand and says, "I promise I will be back tonight. And we will read a story from Beedle the Bard."
Hugo smiles and nods his head in agreement. Hermione takes the phone outside and answers the call. Sherlock says, "Hermione, I need you at 221B in an hour or so."
Did he just say he needs her? She could hear the usual drone of traffic in the background. She asks, "Where are you?"
"I-," he pauses, "I don't know."
Hermione smiles. This odd man. "Okay. I will be there." She disconnects and goes on the search for Harry.
She locates him in the backyard with George. Harry sees her marching up to him. He excuses himself and meets her halfway. He says, "You ready to talk?"
"Yes. Let's take a walk."
They start walking and Hermione starts speaking, "Do you know Blaise has escaped?"
"Yes. The Minister informed me. He told the police were doing their best. He said the Aurors would take over if normal methods failed. So far I have received no new news."
"Hmm. Have you heard of a James Moriarty?"
"No. Why?"
"James Moriarty is the most vicious criminal in the Muggle world and I doubt that he has connections with Blaise Zabini." With that Hermione told Harry her assumptions. She also informed Harry of the story between Sherlock and Moriarty, well, the bits and pieces she knew.
Harry stops in his tracks. He almost whispers, "But how could he fake his death?"
"Magic, Harry, if I am correct about Moriarty and Zabini knowing each other."
"So if you are correct, then the two biggest threats in their respective worlds will come together and…hell I don't want to think what they can do."
"Exactly." Hermione mutters under her breath.
Hermione arrives at 221B at the appointed hour. She is about to go up the stairs when she sees Mycroft Holmes descending down the stairs. She looks at him in surprise. He says, "Ah Miss Granger. My brother is not at his flat. I was hoping to check your flat."
"Uh okay." Hermione turns around and walks to her flat. Sure enough, Sherlock is sitting there, cross-legged, reading what Hermione perceived is Pansy's notebook. He looks up and stands up. He says, "Good. Okay, would you begin or do I?"
"I better, since it is my crazy idea," Hermione says with a shrug.
Sherlock locks his gaze with her, "It is not looking so crazy. I found more entries, reminders to supply Blaise or Sebastian with potion ingredients from over two years ago as well. And the numerous mentions of Rich Brook. Pansy met him multiple times. She might have been a little enamored by him." He adds the last sentence with a dramatic eye roll.
Mycroft snatches the notebook from Sherlock's hands and browses through. His face gets more crinkled as he turns each page. He finally exhales loudly and looks back at his brother, then at Hermione. He says slowly, "This is not good."
Sherlock rolls his eyes again, "Yes. Thank you for stating the obvious."
"Has the Minster of Magic been alerted?" he questions Hermione.
Hermione replies, "I have updated Harry Potter. He will be relaying all information to the Minister."
"Hmm. I need to go back to my office." Mycroft leaves.
After Mycroft leaves, Hermione and Sherlock are still standing in their spots, awkwardly looking everywhere but at each other as the ghost of the kiss they shared hours ago in this same spot hovers around them.
Hermione blush could have rivaled Ron's hair. What was she thinking when she kissed him? Well, he was not supposed to come back, so kissing him was in the heat of the moment. She did not regret kissing him though. It was nice, kissing him. Quite toe-curling. Yet, she thinks if people could die of embarrassment, she would be totally dead by now.
Sherlock's cuffs got very interesting all of a sudden when he noticed the blush on her face rising neck up. He had kissed her back, what was he thinking? He does not do all that. Sentiment and kissing people. It was a moment of weakness that he does not want to reenact ever. Yet, he could not forget how her lips felt on his lips. He clears his throat, "I need to go call John."
"Yeah. Sure. I got to get back to the Burrow. So uh, bye then." She disapparated without even taking a second glance at him. She decides to go freak about everything later.
Sherlock stares at the spot she disappeared from. He shakes his head as if that would help him to think about the imminent threat instead of the funny thoughts he is entertaining about her.
A/N. Hola! Here is the sequel! Oh and I have decided to make this into a trilogy, so this fic shall end in a cliffhanger, rest assured.