I am Best friend's with Hamish Holmes

By Ise

Summary: Hamish met Harry Potter and together they become best of friends. In their journey, they will have to find ways to survive the upcoming war. It will be a test for Hamish to teach his new found friends the wonders of technology, introducing them new sweet games (like flappy bird) and also teaching one pure-blood the life of a muggle.

Pairings: Sherlock/John

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Hamish Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Harry Watson, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and all the characters of Sherlock and Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock BBC and Harry Potter

Authors note: I am screwing the timeline so Harry Potter is now sharing the same time line as Sherlock BBC. And this is unbeta'd so watch out for wrong grammars and wrong spellings.

My sister and Mycroft made a baby together

Chapter 1

When Sherlock left from this world John tried his hardest to survive without him. He moved out from the flat and lives somewhere far away from Baker Street as he could. He is now living somewhere cheap and it is near walking distance to his work so everything turns out alright for him. Well, not exactly. There was the grief-phase of course. The sight of his best friend falling and landing on to the ground where the pavement was covered in his precious blood traumatized him for good not even Ellen, his therapist, could cure that away with a pill. He always avoided the place where Sherlock took his fall like a plague. It was a reminder of his failure on not helping him on time. And the things that he'd said about him crushed him knowing that his words might somehow hurt his friend and there is nothing he can do to change them or take those words back because Sherlock is gone. Gone. For the past two and a half years.

He stopped visiting his therapist knowing that meeting her won't help the heartbreak. And he stopped talking to Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade without having to remind himself on what life that he have lost. He even ignored Mycroft's words in giving some form of comfort in his creepy way knowing that he blame him for his dead brother. He ignored everyone around him for in his eyes they are boring and bland; they are not like Sherlock's brilliance that always caught his attention.

God he missed the mad man.

His phone made a loud obnoxious ping. Without glancing to look, he knows that it is an unknown number and he can tell who that number belongs to.

John would you like to have tea with me? For you've been in your flat for three days now-MH

John turns his body to face the wall as he lay on his plain boring bed. He stared at the grey boring walls with dead eyes. He stopped crying a long time ago and he believe there are no longer tears to shed for him.

His phone glowed from his desk table followed by another ping sound.

John, stop acting like this you are an adult. What would my brother think when he found his doctor lying around, wasting away?-MH

John closed his eyes as he sleeps for god knows how much he needs one.

Sherlock

Mycroft placed his phone on his expensive table seeing that the doctor won't reply to him. He sighs softly as he rubs his eyes with his hand feeling a headache coming from thinking too much about the doctor and his brother. He glanced at the small T.V screen where it shows the old, tired doctor sleeping. He cursed his brother for leaving him with a broken man for that man now hated him. But he can't blame the old doctor's feelings for his actions where unforgivable and knowing his brother he will do all the more unforgivable things just to keep his few remaining friends and his beloved blogger and doctor safe.

He opens his silver apple-brand laptop and opens a file regarding his brother's mission in dismantling Moriarty's web. He types a few choice words into the file before calling in his trusted assistant who now chooses a name Arianna.

"Arianna how is our project? Are there any problems, or he is now working fine?" Mycroft didn't look up from his laptop as he types a few codes to find the location of his brother. Ah, he is now in Sri Lanka.

Arianna placed the documents that listed all things about their project.

"Everything turns out the way they are, sir. He is improving. His intelligence is slowly advancing to a maximum level possibly reaching to the same level as him in a couple of years." Arianna starts using her blackberry. "His health is perfect, his understanding with human communication is well developed but he hasn't said a word."

"Then he is a healthy four month old boy, yes?" Mycroft briefly took the folder and opens it to skim the document. His eyes are reading them for just a minute before closing the folder and hiding the documents in his drawer.

"Correct, sir."

"Well, then let us call Miss Watson and tell her to meet us with Mr. Watson tomorrow if possible." Mycroft stood up gracefully as he took his umbrella from his assistant stretch out hand. "I am going to meet my new nephew today and see how he is doing."

"Of course, sir." Arianna followed her boss while calling Miss Watson.

Mycroft went out from his office and took a ride with Arianna with him. They drove all the way to Dartmoor where Sherlock and John's case took place, in the Hounds of Baskerville. There he meets Dr. Stapleton who was waiting for him.

"Dr. Stapleton." Mycroft nods his head at her.

"Mr. Holmes." She straightens her posture knowing she's meeting a man with real power. "You hear to see the boy?"

"Correct." Mycroft wave his umbrella. "Lead the way for I am dying to see him."

They all started walking.

"Why now, sir?" Dr. Stapleton cringed at his cold eyes pierce through, seeing her as he unravels her thoughts and secrets with just one glance. "If you don't mind me asking."

Mycroft was silent for the past three minutes as they both took out their cards to swipe them and have their eye scan. They step into the elevator as it went underground.

"You know about my brother and his blogger, yes?" He plucks out his golden pocket watch to check the time. Eight minutes. Good, right on schedule.

"I've met them few years ago, and read Mr. Watson's blog." She nods at him.

"Then you must know about my brother's unfortunate demise. How he was fraud and many people believe him as a fake and not a true genius."

Dr. Stapleton was silent as she thinks. She knew that the papers were lying. She had seen Sherlock Holmes act. She knew what her eyes were telling her when she saw him gather enough sufficient facts about the Sargent in order to get the right password. She saw him work by sitting in his chair scanning his belongings asking her about his habits until he finally found the right word to unlock all the files. His mind was amazing, sometimes scaring her even now.

She knows that Sherlock Holmes is not a fake.

"I don't believe the papers, they are all just hogwash." She stared at Mr. Holmes in the eye letting him see that she believed in his little brother.

Mycroft studies her carefully before relents on explaining his purpose.

"This boy, he is no ordinary boy Dr. Stapleton." Mycroft spoke quietly. "He shares my brother's DNA thus making him my nephew."

"Oh my god." Dr. Stapleton covers her mouth, gasping in disbelief. "Are you saying that this project, this boy is-."

She made an odd sound.

"It sounds to me that you've grown fond of the child, Doctor." Mycroft replied coolly. "You see, this boy was created with a purpose, a purpose which is so important that it might save a life."

Dr. Stapleton didn't say a word as he explained.

"Mr. John Watson is a walking dead man. Since the death of my brother whatever it is that made him John was destroyed. He is living his life wasted and in the matter of time he will finally do something drastic that will kill him." They stop as Mycroft carefully lean towards her, towering her with his height and power of intimidation. "So, doctor, I would like for you to follow the orders as just as before but do not let your feelings ruined this project, understand?"

She shakes the fear in her as she dared question his intentions.

"You're telling me that you use your brother's DNA to create a clone for the sake in having John Watson raising him thus preventing him thinking about committing suicide?" Dr. Stapleton tries to control her tone of voice. "Do you know that this is crazy? How can you do something so inhuman?"

"It is not your choice in the matter Dr. Stapleton. You are here to help the child's development seeing that everything in his system is all checked before sending him off with a family." Mycroft stands straight before walking towards the grey door that leads to the project. "My actions may sound to you has horrible, barbaric even, but I can assure you that this will help Mr. Watson overcome his grieve. And if there is any consolation the child is not a clone but a real boy. He is the son of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson."

Sherlock

John wakes up with his phone ringing. He groans as he rubs the sand in his eyes. He sat up straight feeling his muscles complain at him before turning his legs over to the edge of his bed. He waited until the ringing stops and begins his boring day.

John got dressed and ate what little food he had before grabbing everything he needs before he left for work.

John made a mental note in his head in buying some groceries after he finished his work and of course calling his sister later when he checked his phone to see who called.

He did his job in a monotone way. He felt like he is a robot doing the same thing but in a different day. He checks some kid who is suffering with high fever, a guy who needs to have his lungs check and a young woman who is now crying thinking she might die despite the fact that she's only suffering a small cold and not pneumonia.

When the clock struck one John sat on his leather chair with a tired sigh. It's his break today. He always felt tired. Nothing in this world could change his life, not when the man with the power to turn John's whole world into adventure and danger is now gone he knows for sure that he will never encounter the same thing again. He laced his fingers together and set his elbows on top of his table as he daydreams the good old days. Then his mind drifts to the illegal firearm that he hid in his drawer. Maybe he could end this boring life and meet with his amazing best friend in to the afterlife? John shook his head. No. I am stronger than this. John thought but deep down everything is not the same without him. He knew that he can't live this life without him, his best friend. If he has enough time to analyze his own feelings he might say he is in love with Sherlock Holmes but the grief has clouded everything in him. The darkness is now cloaking him and sometimes he could feel death's touch hovering over him.

If he can't find anything to distract himself then everyone in the world will find his death in the news soon.

A sharp knock was heard startling John from his depressing thoughts.

He clears his throat before speaking. "Come in."

The door opens to reveal Sarah, beautiful Sarah who look quite concern. Shit.

"Hey." Sarah smiled beautifully. God, why did things between us didn't work out? Oh, yeah Sherlock did this. He is such a cockblocker sometimes. John chuckles mentally, slightly brighten a bit.

"Hey to you too. So what's up?"

"Want to go have a bite?" Sarah stood in front of him.

"Hmm, sure. I love to." John stood up from his seat and together they went out to eat their lunch. Just this once let him forget what he has lost.

Let him live with a smile before he too will be gone.

Sherlock

"Damn it, Johnny." Harry Watson cursed as she snaps her phone shut obviously her brother is now ignoring her calls again. Harry frowns seeing the man in front of her is having a slice of dark chocolate cake. Mycroft Holmes, brother to her own brother's flatmate who committed suicide two and half years ago and that everyone thinks he's a fake and liar, is now sitting in front of her with a knowing look in his steel grey eyes. How the hell did she managed to make acquaintance with this dangerous man?

She scowls, now remembering a bitter memory resurface. It was two and half-years ago, four months since the crazy detective died. She tried to comfort her brother by taking him out or something to cheer him up but in those few months the scar was fresh and the pain even fresher when remembering and having her brother push her away, slamming the door in front of her face despite the chilly wind in November leaving her standing outside, helpless knowing she can't help her brother now. Not today and not ever.

There were times the past comes to bite her in the ass and this was one of those days when the memory of her brother Johnny helped her when she was pissed off and drunk, nursing her back to health before going back again causing her brother to feel the pain and anger of her actions. Those days when the reminder of her wife Clara left her heartbroken and bitter, the alcohol was her only friend and companion. It's a wonder she didn't die with alcohol poisoning.

But now, her little brother needed his older sister. But how can she face him when she's a walking disaster herself?

Two weeks later and no luck in talking things with her brother a black car pulled right in front of her apartment followed by a text message signed under unknown telling her to get into the car or else. The right thing to do was to call the cops but when anther message came after the first one telling her that the unknown person knows about her brother and that this person needs to talk to her in person.

And that's how she met Mycroft Holmes.

She's been sober for the past two and half years thanks to that man. It was him who finally gave her the push that she, Clara and John needed. With his power and skill in persuading her and sometimes scaring the pants out of her to get her act right she managed to have the self-control that she desperately need.

So two and half years, there was a reason for her sending to rehab. Mycroft Holmes has a plan to help her brother. She has seen the signs of a walking suicidal man and she was afraid something bad will happen to her brother. So Mycroft offered her a solution. She wasn't sure how she agreed to this crazy shit plan but she became the surrogate mother of his dead brother's baby. How fucked up is that? And how much of a fucked when she found out where did he get his brother sperm. Mycroft stash away his brother sperm somewhere and Jesus she doesn't want to learn more.

Nine months and one painful labor later, she gave birth to a baby boy with curly hair. She remembered the experience with great clarity. The baby was small and pinkish, his nose; she can tell that's a Holmes, but the mouth and the shape of the eyes, now that's a Watson. While everything is all Holmes she wondered what color were his eyes.

And big baby blue eyes staring at her sleepily. A-booyeah, Watson is the winner. Ha! Beat that Holmes. She grins as she tickles the baby's chin.

"Hey, son. Welcome to the world."

Mycroft was with her when she held him for the first time ever. He was curious himself to see the result of a Watson and a Holmes.

"He is a normal baby. But I can see Sherlock everywhere in him." Mycroft reach out tentatively with a finger tracing his face then touching those curly hairs.

"Nuh-ah, he has the Watson eyes." Harry said. "Not everything is a Holmes."

Mycroft force a smile at her. "Thank you, Miss Watson."

"Hey, you said this little guy is going to help my brother so it's no biggie." Harry told him calmly. "And I owe a lot to my brother, I'm doing this for him."

Mycroft nodded. "Indeed, I owe a lot to Doctor Watson as well. He helped change my brother into a great man and a better person."

"Johnny is awesome like that, ya'know. Helping people, saving lives, that's his thing." Harry smiled at him then at the baby. "I'm going to name him Hamish, cos' I know how he hates that name."

"Hamish it is."

"So, Miss Watson no word from your brother?" Harry snaps her eyes to stare at the pair of steel grey. Bringing herself into the present.

"No, my brother is being a dick. He keeps ignoring my calls." Harry grumbles insulting things to her brother before thinking to herself about something. "How is he?"

Knowing what she was talking about Mycroft took his time in drinking his afternoon tea.

"Hamish is quite fine. He is healthy and well advanced for his age. You can tell that he has developed a deep human understanding when it comes to human interaction and communication."

"Ahhh, that's great. Cool." Harry look relieved to hear this. She was afraid that Mr. Holmes was keeping the boy in some form of facility. "Be sure to feel glad Johnny, we're seriously doing this for you."

Mycroft seemed to be ignoring her as he continues to nibble his cake.

"So what now? We can't call him ahead to tell him. He's been ignoring me and I know he's ignoring you as well."

"Quiet so, Miss Watson."

"Harry."

Mycroft pause.

"Excuse me?"

"We've known each other for a while now, man. We're no longer strangers." Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "We already passed this, so first name bases level up."

"Very well, Harriet." Mycroft looks like he swallowed something sour. Harry scoff at him. Close enough. "We're going to surprise your brother."

"Like, what? Ambush him in his own flat?"

"If that's how you put it."

"I'm cool with it but there's one problem. I don't know where he lives. He won't tell me. I heard he moved out from Baker Street."

"Do not worry your small mind Harriet. I know where your brother is." Mycroft took a sip of his tea when he noticed the look on her face. He gave her a bored look knowing the look anywhere. He had seen it on John's and everyone else faces before.

The look where you know it was creepy.

"Seriously, you keep tabs on my brother?" Harry looks a bit creep out. "You know what your doing is illegal and downright stalker-ish, right?"

Mycroft just ignores her.

Sherlock

"John, how've you been?" Sarah twirls the straw in her orange juice as they both ate at the nearby diner.

John munches slowly of his sandwich before swallowing.

"Honestly?" John avoids looking her in the eye. "I am not so sure, Sarah."

Sarah reach out to touch him but stop short when she sees his hands holding his sandwich tight before letting it go. She pulled her hand back.

"John, talk to me, yeah?"

She smiled softly at him.

"I missed him you know? Every day. And it hurts knowing that there is nothing I can do to bring him back. No miracle." John's voice sounded so broken it breaks her heart to hear him.

"I wanted to think that this was all just a bad dream and one day I might wake up to hear him playing that blasted violin of his in the middle of the night." John swallowed heavily. He took a sip of his own drink before continuing. "You know he can play good music when using it properly instead of sawing away his own violin like he's going to murder it."

Sarah shook her head telling him, that no she didn't know he can play a violin.

"When I woke up from my bed do you know what comes in to my mind? I keep thinking that Sherlock is gone and I am alive and I will tell you this Sarah, how unfair this is. This can't be right. Sherlock supposed to live and not dead." John clasped his hands together as he bowed his head. Emotions so heavy he couldn't hold them in. "Sherlock deserve more than this. He helped a lot of people he saved them and what some people give him in return? People think that he is a liar and a fraud! That he faked is way in making those crimes so that people will think that he's a genius and no one believed him or me that Jim Moriarty was real."

John took a deep breath.

"He's real. Sherlock is a true genius and Moriarty is real."

Sarah stared at him with those lovely eyes and said those words that John didn't realized he needed them to hear.

"I believed you John." Sarah paused before smiling him. "And I believe Sherlock is a real genius too."

John stared at her, a bit stunned, before wiping those pesky tears away. Embarrassed, John whispered a small thank you.

John came home after work and it is exactly six o'clock when he noticed that his door was opened. On high alert John creeps slowly towards his door, opening it quietly before scanning inside.

"Come in John there's no need for you to act like this it is after all your flat." A voice that he knew all too well came from inside his living room. John closed his eyes, silently praying to god to give him patience and strength.

"Mycroft, what the hell are you doing here?" John demanded as he took off his coat while starring at the man in an expensive suit and his trusted umbrella in hand. Mycroft was sitting in his old sofa staring at him with those knowing eyes.

"We're here to visit you, John." Mycroft smirked at him. "It is after all such a long time."

"Mycroft get the hell out of here. Now."

"Johnny is that how you treat a guest." A female voice spoke from the kitchen. John turned to the source of the sound to find his sister holding a baby boy.

"What the hell?" John looks incredulously at her then at the baby. "Harry? Is that a baby?"

"Johnny language!" Harry carried the baby with a warm bottle in hand. "And yes, it's a baby."

"I didn't know you have a son." He slowly walks towards her. Harry feeds the baby while starring at John with amusment.

"Oh he isn't her son, John." Mycroft paused as he took in the scene observing everything. "Despite the fact she gave birth to him, she isn't her son."

"What are you talking about, Mycroft?" John glared at him. "And what are you all doing here?"

"Let me handle this Mycroft." John turned her harsh gaze at her causing her to flinch. John softens them when he realized what he was doing to her.

"What's going on? Harry, why do you know Mycroft?"

Mycroft blessed him, kept quite as he watches the two siblings with interest. Harry placed the bottle on the nearby table.

"John." Harry gulped softly as she clutched the babe in her arms. "Can you recognize him?"

John stared at the baby and got a real good look at him. He took notice of the boy's curly hair, his nose and his face but the eyes they look exactly like Harry's, no, not just Harry's but his as well. And then, an imaginary lightning struck him when he noticed the resemblance with him and the his dead flatmate.

"Oh my god." John gasped. "Harry."

The tone of voice told her John needs her to explain him soon before he explodes in to an emotional mess.

"Johnny let me tell you something. I haven't had a drink for the past two and a half years."

John was stunned.

"Mycroft was the one who gave the final push that we all need. He helped me Johnny. I was in rehab for two and half years and still counting." Harry cradles the child when she noticed he's starting to make a fuss. "Thanks to him I am clean. But there's more to it you see. He told me you're not doing so well. And he offered me a solution. I know we haven't talk in a while Johnny but I know that you need someone and that someone is not here anymore."

John turned pale when he started to connect the dots. Sherlock would be proud of him for figuring this out so soon.

"Harry you're telling me that this boy is Sherlock's?"

"I volunteered myself to be a surrogate mother. He's yours too." The baby turned its baby blues at him. He looked at him curiously before reaching out to him.

The baby cooed and John's heart melted. He reaches out to take him and the baby screech in delight.

"Hey little man." John held him tenderly. "What's his name?"

Harry looked at him hopefully.

"Hamish."

"A good, strong name." John whispered. "If he's my son then how in the world did you get his sperm?"

John turned to Mycroft.

"After a decade of not using any form of drugs Sherlock decided to donate some of his sperm for the greater cause. He has some form of foresight that he will die an early age and that someday his genes will live on and be of some use for the good of mankind."

"That is so typical of him." John's voice was soft, broken.

"Johnny, are you okay with this?" Harry looked anxious. "I know we did this behind your back and without your consent but we know that you need someone to look after. You need something to hold on to and so we decided to give you him. A piece of him that you will have."

"Harry." John stared at her with teary eyes but instead of looking angry he smiled at her. "Thank you."

He walk towards her and hugged her tight while being careful with the baby in his arms.

Mycroft stood up dusting his coat to remove the dust before catching both Watson siblings attention by clearing his throat.

"Well it seemed that everything is sorted then. Here are the adoption papers John." Mycroft took out documentation papers. "All you need is your signature."

John handed over the baby Hamish to Harry who cried and fussed at being separate from him. Harry shush him, rocking him back and forth to soothe him while watching her brother take out a pen from his pocket.

John read the papers carefully before signing. He gave them to Mycroft who took them in his hand. He briefly scans them and he raises an eyebrow before glancing at John questioningly.

"Hamish Holmes?"

John shrugged.

"He is also Sherlock son too."

"Ah." Mycroft mumbled. "Then I will take my leave."

Mycroft nodded at them both and went out from the door.

"Don't worry Johnny, Mycroft and I have prepared the things for you to take care of little Misha back at Baker St."

Harry answered his problems when it comes to raising his new son.

"Wait, what? Back at Baker St. Harry you know I am not going back." John turned to her with confusion in his eyes.

"Bollocks, Johnny. My new nephew needs a good environment. This place? It's a pigsty. You want to raise him here in this neighborhood?"

"You got a point there, Harry." John concedes knowing that his sister is right. John's neighborhood is filled with shady people and it is not good place to start raising a baby boy. "Alright, back to Baker St. I guess I have to talk with Mrs. Hudson."

"Already taken care of, little bro." Harry winked at him.

"Mycroft sorted it?"

"Yep. That guy can do anything." She shrugs as she hands Misha back to him before starting packing her brother's things. "Guess there are perks in dating a Holmes."

"Harry, Sherlock and I weren't—oh never mind." John shook his head while staring at his son. "Hey Misha, I'm John your Daddy. We're going to be fine. Everything is fine. I guess I got my miracle."

Misha laughed as he touches John's face tracing them with his fingers as if memorizing the texture of his skin.

"Looks to me you're going be like your papa." John chuckled as he took his son's hand and put it in his mouth, nibbling them. "Nom. Nomnom. Hope you won't make a racket at three am in the morning, son, when playing the violin or some instrument you might find yourself interest in when you grow up."

"You're my miracle." Misha smiled without teeth at him. John leans down to kiss those baby cheeks.

TBC

I made this at one o'clock in the morning and finished it at four thirty. God, I'm so sleepy to check everything so I'm posting this now. My apologies for the errors on my part. I guess that's what you get for having sleep deprivation.