Hi! I have tried to do something different from usual, and focus on my latest obsession - Sherlock Holmes. Yes, I know. Sherlock? Who watches Sherlock? So just so you know, Sherlock is one awesome series, with awesome actors and awesome characters, and awesome cameramen, and awesome plot and, damn it, pure awesomeness! So, this is a crossover between Sherlock (BBC's series) and Harry Potter. Which isn't the main character, by the way. He is fun, but not that fun. And I messed up a bit with Sherlock. Sorry for that. So, what I'm trying to say is, well, just Enjoy(= (and tell me what you think, lets not forget that) (Oh, yeah, and all rights to Sherlock Holmes and Harry Potter are disclaimed)

The Encounter

By

Yuval25

Walking on the edge of the roof was something Luna always liked to do. Sometimes she would wake up early in the morning and walk into the cold, clear air of Scotland's mountains. She would balance on the roof of one of Hogwarts' towers, and just think. It was a way of concentrating she learned from her father. It helped keeping her head clean of unwanted little creatures.

Occasionally, Sherlock Holmes also liked to go onto the roof. It helped him think and analyze whatever case he's been trying to solve. He would often go to St. Bart's hospital and rise above the building after long hours at the lab with Molly, and think things over until he felt fresh and ready to look at things in a different way.

It was only a matter of time until the two met, really. And it happened on the least convenient way, while Sherlock reflected on his actions during the past three months, ever since faking his death until now when Molly wouldn't take anymore secrecy and demanded him to tell at least John.

Just then, a 'poof' sound rang and from a cloud of smoke a blonde figure emerged. She held her head high, like a princess. Her hand clutched a polished wooden stick, and her strange, elaborate earrings made tinkling noises of glass hitting against glass. She didn't have any shoes on, but it didn't seem to bother her.

At first, she didn't notice anyone else on the roof. She walked on the higher edge of it and then lifted one of her legs, making a V shape between her legs before slowly lowering the foot and taking a few more steps. She repeated the action a couple of times, taking deep breathes and closing her eyes when it wasn't dangerous.

Sherlock looked at her with fascination. Who was this strange lady? And more importantly, how did she get here without a key? He knew for a fact that the only people holding a key to the rooftop were the workers of the hospital, him (Molly gave him hers after he asked, and he forgot to return it. Well, no. He actually figured she wouldn't need it. Why would she want to go up to the roof anyway?) and John (he made a spare one for the army doctor). Sherlock was certain she wasn't part of the hospital's staff.

The woman finally realized she was not alone. She turned around slowly, as if making a point that he wasn't supposed to be there as well, and gasped. She almost stumbled over and for a moment Sherlock could see just how she would fall, hit the ground and die painfully. But then again, he jumped from that roof not even half a year ago and survived. All you needed was the right sedative and you could pretend to be dead for a day or two peacefully.

"Who are you?" the blonde asked, her voice soft and innocent. She sounded like she was daydreaming, not truly there in mind though her body was present.

"Who are you?" the man asked back. She was the one barging in – why should he answer her question after she invaded his privacy like that?

"I asked first." She stated in a manner which made her sound ten year younger. She was in her twenties, by the looks of it.

"Doesn't matter. Just answer the question." He demanded. Most people would have been offended by his rude tone, but not Luna. Living a life like hers, she learned to ignore what people said.

"Luna," she said simply.

Sherlock's hands fisted in irritation. Was she withholding information from him? How dare she?

"Luna…?" he repeated slowly, trying to make her reveal her last name in a rather overused tactic. It had about twenty percentage of working, but at that point there wasn't much else he could do.

"Yes." The woman confirmed.

"Interesting," he said back.

"What's your name?" she asked again, her eyes glazing over, losing focus. Sherlock wondered if she was high. Should he call the police officers? No, they would probably just arrest her. He wanted to know who she was. What she was.

"Sherlock Holmes." There was no way of avoiding it.

"You seem troubled, Sherlock Holmes." Luna told the weird man. He was dressed funny. Were those gloves she saw?

"How did you get here?" he ignored her question, getting to the main point.

"I just got here."

She set a stray group of hairs back behind her left ear.

"I know you just got here. I saw. But how did you get here?" he gritted his teeth in anger.

"Oh, that." The woman looked shy all of a sudden. "I can't tell you that."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you why."

Sherlock pursed his lips. Why did she have to be so difficult? The only thing he did was ask her how she came upon this lovely little location. True, she did puff out of plain air, but how was that his fault? She should have been prepared for those kinds of questions if she wanted to pop into someone's privet space.

There was a silence while the two stared at each other, daring the other to turn their gaze away. Neither did. Sherlock was surprised someone could hold this long against his determined, blue eyes. Luna, though, having piercing blue eyes of her own, was more thrilled that she finally had some competition.

After a few minutes of the same bizarre game, the sound of the door to the rooftop opening made Luna break her concentration and look at the metal door.

Molly looked up from her notes with a winning smile, her hand hovering over the handle of the door.

"I've got it! I have the DNA sample from the crime scene. It was not easy, I assure you, but I've managed to convince Mr. Dinozzo to lend me the spit for the weekend. Now we just need to run the-" Molly suddenly broke from her frenzied speech, looking at Sherlock with and confused expression.

What was he looking at?

"Uh… Sherlock, are you alright?" she asked hesitantly.

He looked at her with his X-raying eyes, taking in her ruffled, tired appearance and worried frown.

"Yes, I'm quite alright." He looked back at the blonde woman, only to find empty space where she has once been. His brow furrowed in confusion. Has the woman jumped off the roof? But he hasn't heard her walk towards the end of it, so how…?

"Well," he heard Molly continue, and turned his attention back to her. "The DNA test is going to take a while, so I've been wondering if, uh… I wondered if you'd like to go for coffee." She finished, flustered.

"Black, to sugars," he told her absently.

Molly looked at him in confusion. "Um, okay."

She turned around and entered the building again, trying to remember if the cafeteria was open at this hour.

Sherlock stayed on the roof all day, waiting for the mystery woman to come back and maybe even give some explanation.

A few months later, Sherlock came back to his regular spot on St. Bart's rooftop. He stayed there the entire night, not caring about food or unnecessary things like that, until John showed up and dragged him back to the flat they shared, chiding his irresponsibility of not calling or even leaving a message before disappearing for two days without a trace. The warrior has been quite worried ever since he 'returned from the dead'. Oh well…

After Sherlock and John drove away in the taxi, a magical blonde girl appeared on the roof of the hospital, her eyes saddening upon not seeing the man she's been searching for all this time.