Fandoms: Harry Potter, Sherlock

Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, John Watson

Prompt: Harry and Draco move in, as a couple, to 221C. John and Sherlock meet them while they're taking a break from lugging boxes inside, in Mrs. Hudson's kitchen. Do whatever you want with the meeting itself.
Draco's in Healer school, "Med School" to the muggles, and Harry's studying to become an Unspeakable.

Prompt Made By: Lady of Slytherclaw

Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless I. H. Scribe is listed after Prompt Made By chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.


Hearing raised voices from the direction of Mrs. Hudson's kitchen, Sherlock and John exchanged a quick glance, and then quietly, but quickly, made their way to the kitchen. Mrs. Hudson was tending a tea pot on the stove, while two men – one dark-haired, the other light-haired – argued at her kitchen table.

"A knife, Harry!"

"She was surprised to see you!"

"At my head, Harry! And I thought you warned her!"

"I did. I think she was expecting me to bring home one of the other Slytherins – Blaise, or maybe Daphne."

"Oh, hello boys," Mrs. Hudson said, finally noticing Sherlock and John. "These are the new tenants of 221C, Harry Potter, and his boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. This is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. They live above us in 221B."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said. "Don't mind Draco. He's been complaining about that little incident forever."

"Little, my ass! That knife could have separated my head from my shoulders!"

"I love how the knife gets bigger every time you tell someone about it," Harry muttered.

Draco continued as if he hadn't heard, "I don't know why on earth you let that crazy woman have custody!"

"Temporary custody, until we finished getting moved in," Harry reminded him, and then added, "and only because she's Teddy's grandmother."

"Teddy's crazy grandmother," Draco growled.

"Here dear, have some tea," Mrs. Hudson said, handing Draco a cup.

"Thank you," Draco said, before beginning to sip it quietly.

"Now, what's this about a knife?"

Draco opened his mouth but Harry pushed the teacup up to Draco's mouth, causing him to sputter on the tea, and began speaking before Draco could get his bearings back.

"Teddy's my godson. His grandmother, who he's currently stay with, also happens to be the older sister of Draco's mother. She had been kicked out of the family for marrying someone her parents didn't approve of. I told her I had been seeing someone, and it was serious, and asked her to meet them. Apparently I didn't do a good job of warning her, because upon seeing Draco, she tossed a knife at him."

"A huge knife," Draco added.

"A knife no bigger than my pinky. It doesn't even deserve to be called a knife. And she apologized before explaining herself. Draco looks like his father who apparently threatened her every time they happened to meet. "

"It doesn't change the fact that she. Threw. A. Knife. At my. Head," Draco said.

"Yes, dear, whatever you say, dear," Harry said, sighing. Draco took another sip of tea, before muttering about crazy old women.


"So, if you don't mind me asking, why choose to move here?" John asked a few hours later, once Draco had calmed down. They were all sitting down to tea, except for Mrs. Hudson, who was in the other room on the phone with her daughter. "There's not a lot of room for a child in 221C."

"It'll only be for a few years. Mrs. Hudson is letting us expand it into the back garden a little," Harry said. "It'll be enough space for us. The last place was bigger, but this is closer to our jobs. Well, my job. Draco's going to medical school right around the corner."

The collapse of the floo network also had something to do with their move. Draco and Harry were both capable of apparating to work every day, but daily apparition took its toll on one's magic, and both of them needed as much as they could get.

Draco was halfway through his training to be a medi-wizard, and then he would apprentice for a few years with Pomfrey at Hogwarts, before taking over her job. Harry would be able to floo back and forth to the Department of Mysteries, where he worked, assuming, of course, that the floo network was fixed by then.

Draco's medical training taught them several magic-exhausting spells a week, as the instructors tried to rush the students through as much as they could thanks to the shortage caused by the war. Harry, along with most of the other Unspeakables, were trying all they could to fix the floo network – a magically and mentally draining, slow-going process.

"Mungo's?" John asked. "I heard it was almost impossible to get in there."

"It is," Draco said. Truthfully, St. Mungo's was the wizarding hospital. To the muggles, however, it was a top notch medical school. People only ever heard of a friend of a friend of a friend of a cousin of a friend of someone who got in.

"And you, Potter?" Sherlock asked. "What do you do?"

"Various odds in ends, basically whatever my boss tells me he needs done. At the moment, it's fireplace maintenance."

Draco snorted into his tea, sputtering again as he choked on it. "I imagine Croaker would be a little pissed if he heard you refer to it as that."

"Dumbass shouldn't have let that idiot play with the network then." It wasn't Croaker's fault, of course, as he had been out sick – a late onset of Dragon Pox which, while normally fatal for adults, only managed to keep the old man bedridden for two weeks.

It was his dumbass replacement that had let that idiot cousin of former-Minister Fudge near the floo network master control panel. The Department of Transportation had a lesser version, that allowed them to regulate floo travel, but the master control panel remained under the control of the Department of Mysteries, since floo was the creation of a group of Unspeakables.

The floo network had stood for almost a century, until an idiot with a total of five seconds of access to the master control panel managed to bring it crashing down.

John and Harry continued making small talk, as Draco sipped his tea, still occasionally muttering about crazy old women. Sherlock filed all the bits and pieces he learned about Draco and Harry away for further study. Something about them was off. The fact that there hadn't been a murder for him to solve in three weeks had nothing to do with it.

Really.


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I. H. Scribe