Author's note : Adi, this one is for you. Happy birthday!

I know you love Harry Potter as much as I do :) Hence this fic. I know you would've done a much better job at writing this but anyway, this is what I managed to write.

I got the idea when I noticed that Hermione's patronus is an otter :)

Disclaimer : Nothing's mine.

Listen to : How to disappear completely by Radiohead or something similar.

The Death Eaters fell, as their spells hit them, the great blond one first at Harry's hands and the next one at her own. Harry's spell, aimed for the Death Eater, missed and hit the waitress, who collapsed at once. The place had almost blown up thanks to the expulsion jinx the Death Eater had managed to bellow before her spell had struck him and he had fallen to the floor like a board.

After freeing Ron from the black ropes that held him bound, she clicked the deluminator and the cafe plunged into darkness, not noticing that a tall, grey haired man had been staring from across the road. How on earth had the Death Eaters found them so quickly? Harry still having the trace was absurd, no one had followed them from The Burrow and yet, they had found them as easily as it was to trace an abandoned mobile phone.

'We need to wipe off their memories and clear up the place' she whispered tot he boys, who were merely staring at the pile of stunned bodies.

'Clear up the place? Why?' asked Ron incredulously.

'Don't you think that they would find it weird to wake up in a place that looks like it has just been bombe-'

At that precise moment, someone hammered on the front door. She felt her heart leap into her throat and beckoned for Harry and Ron to move into the tiny kitchen of the cafe. If they disapparated, there would be no chance to wipe off the memories of the Death Eaters or the waitress. They would be in trouble if You-Know-Who even had an inkling of what had happened. Moreover, the waitress would be killed and so would the policemen who would definitely try to interrogate the Death Eaters if they managed to wake them up at all...

'It's the Police! Open up!' a man thundered, still hammering on the door. Finally, when they said nothing but stayed where they were, huddled together in the dark kitchen, there sounded a loud crash as the man broke down the door.

She drew her wand and hastily muttered 'Silencio, Protego Totalus' towards the kitchen door. It would wear off with time but it would take care of the policeman for the time being. What would they do next? It would be foolhardy to leave without obliviating the Death Eaters.

Maybe she could get under the cloak and do it? But the place was teeming with people now. There were four other policemen and a few onlookers. It would be too risky to go any closer to the bodies. She cursed herself for never studying non verbal spells seriously. So for the time being, she settled for staying where she was and asked the same of Harry and Ron. They nodded and waited for the people to go away, or at least move away so that the Death Eaters and the waitress could be obliviated.

His text alert went off and Sherlock glanced at his phone.

Need you at Tottenham Court Road right now.
Case at least an 8.
GL

He debated on what to do for a moment before deciding to go. Two weeks without cases had done nothing for his temper and John had finally stormed away to spend the night with one of his girlfriends, leaving him alone. He pulled on his long coat and grabbed his scarf and practically ran out to hail a cab.

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing inside a small cafe with three bodies slumped against the wall. Lestrade had been right, this really was looking quite interesting.

'They aren't breathing?' he asked.

'No. But all of them have heartbeats. None of them are dead but I just can't make out what on earth has happened to them or this place. It looks like it's been bombed and yet there is nothing burnt, everything is intact, just out of place!' exclaimed Lestrade.

'Hmm. This one is clearly the waitress. First job, stays with an abusive boyfriend, graduated last year from High school, parents live close by... all irrelevant'

'As for the blond guy, he has a very important post, possibly a government post judging by the deep wrist creases, spends a lot of hours at his desk and has a wife but no children, new shoes, and dear me, what is he wearing? and why does he have a wooden stick in his hand?' he muttered and Greg replied.

'The other one had it too, different dimensions though. Beats me what has happened to them. Never heard of a dead man with a pulse' he shrugged.

'It's obvious that the people who attacked them couldn't have gone far. Maybe they haven't even left the place' he said taking a step towards the dark kitchen, wondering why Lestrade hadn't checked in there.

'I didn't want to disturb anything, I was waiting for you. I only got here 10 minutes ago. I thought I saw a girl, just a kid in here but it could've been my imagination. I was across the street' he rambled but Sherlock wasn't really paying attention to him.

His gaze was fixed on a pair of feet that was just visible in the kitchen when he entered and put on the lights. What was even stranger was that the feet seemed to belong to no one, just an isolated pair of feet. He advanced carefully and he thought he heard a gasp. As he took one more step ahead, several things happened at once.

Lestrade shouted out 'Sherlock! The waitress is waking up!', he heard a click and the kitchen plunged into darkness and where the pair of feet had been there was now a gaping hole in the wall and he could spot three people running away from the cafe, two boys and a girl with something silvery streaming behind them like a banner.

Undaunted, he chased after them and grabbed the girl's left hand just as the other two grabbed her right and he was suddenly sucked into an all consuming darkness.

They arrived at Grimmauld place at once and she took in a deep breath as her lungs expanded. She had apparated them directly inside the house, to avoid any more trysts with the Death Eaters. As they stepped over the threshold, a voice spoke.

'Severus Snape?'

She felt something whoosh over her and her tongue rolled backwards, unraveling seconds later. They had just witnessed the tongue tying curse Mad-Eye had set up for Snape then. The lamps had sprung to life and it was obvious that someone had been here. The house had never been neat and tidy but now it was a complete mess. The troll-leg umbrella stand had been knocked over and there was a thick layer of dust on everything.

She took another step forwards gingerly. There was a muffled noise from the shadows and a dusty figure rose from the carpet, his long white hair flying as he glided towards them, his sunken and fleshless, with sockets that were devoid of the piercing blue eyes, he raised a skeletal hand towards them and Harry shouted

'No! We didn't kill you!'

at the same time that she screamed. The curtains that covered Walburga Black's portrait flew open and she started screaming too.

'Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonour, taint of shame on the house of my fathers, bringing in muggles now, what has the world fallen to, filthy muggles...'

'Damn it woman, for heaven's sake SHUT UP NOW!' roared someone and she felt her heart stop.

The voice came from behind them and they turned around swiftly to see a tall man, with an extra long coat clutching his sides and heaving with the effort of breathing.

A muggle!

'Who are you? What are you doing here?' said Ron as he and Harry pulled out their wands.

'I should be asking you the same. Who are you and how on earth did you drag me from Tottenham Court Road to this dusty old place in the fraction of a second? It is obvious that you three have just run away from a ceremony, probably a wedding. High heels, make up, a hurried change of clothes, the boys still smelling of cologne. A close friend or a sibling, most likely yours' he nodded towards Ron ' the wedding was disrupted then? What compelled you to leave the venue so suddenly and why did you attack three unarmed people in a cafe and what exactly have you done to them so that they still have pulses but none of them are breathing and why do you think I should be afraid when all you have to defend yourselves are three wooden sticks?'

He said all of this so fast that for a moment they were too stunned to say anything. They just looked at each other uneasily. What were you supposed to tell a muggle who had accidentally stumbled upon the best kept secret of all times? Obliviating him would be the easiest way out but somehow, Hermione didn't want to do it. The man's personality had struck her and she was impressed by how quickly he had known what they had been doing. She could obliviate him later but first she wanted to know what was going on in that brain of his. She could practically hear his mind whirring, taking in the surroundings.

They said nothing, each of them thinking the same thing. How had he ended up grabbing Hermione's arm in the nick of time?

The man didn't look pleased at all. In fact he looked downright furious.

'I should have thought that you would be a bit serious about this. Hurting those three was your idea of fun I suppose. I would have expected more from you at least, girl. You look like you're sensible at the least, your parents being doctors. Red here has just run away from his brother's wedding and is crazily and head over heels in love with you, girl. Mr. Scarhead has no living family but curiously, this house belongs to him. Peculiar tastes in decoration I must say. It is obvious that you three are on the run. Now if you please, you three will come with me to the Yard. We need to talk about the people you've hurt. Being underage does not grant you any privileges' he finished.

'Dentists' said Hermione, sounding stunned.

'What?' he barked out.

'My parents are dentists' she muttered.

'There's always something that I miss' he said shaking his head. 'Let's go' he said, turning towards the door.

'You are not going anywhere' said the bespectacled boy and he turned around to see the three pointing their wooden sticks at him again. He let out a short laugh.

'Who are you, seriously and why on earth d'you think that you can beat me with three measly pieces of wood?' he drawled.

'We're wizards. These are our wands' explained the girl.

This time he laughed heartily.

'Wands? Magic? You expect me to believe that? What are you going to do, throw spells at me?'

'Exactly. What d'you think we did to the Death Eaters?' said the red haired boy.

Sherlock frowned.

'There's no such thing as magic. I don't know what you have done to those three, maybe you've administered an unknown eastern poison but there is nothing called as magic' he finished with a smirk. It surprised him that it had taken him this long to realise it. Of course it had been some plant alkaloid that had poisoned the victims!

'Really? Then how can you explain the fact that we dragged you halfway across the city in the fraction of a second and through thin air?' said Glasses with a smirk.

He had no answer for that. But the notion that they were speaking the truth, that they really were wizards was ridiculous. There was only one way to find out.

'Prove it' he said defiantly.

The trio smiled at each other and pointed their wands at him. He couldn't help but feel afraid. This was like Baskerville all over again. He closed his eyes and waited.

A curious sensation filled him, like he was flying. He opened his eyes to see that he really was seven feet from the ground and everything around him even the hideous umbrella stand was flying around the room. His eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. The house seemed ancient, a family home that had belonged to the bespectacled boy's ancestors but then why were the decorations so in contrast with his personality? He seemed nice enough but the house distinctly gave off a morbid air, like it had belonged to a very dark and evil family. Ah, of course. His godparents had left him the house then. Not his birth parents.

'Can you put me down please?' he said to the girl who nodded and put him down at once.

It was too much to take in. Magic. Here was a whole new world co-existing with theirs and they had no idea!

There was too much information to take in and his mind began to overflow. Finally he closed his eyes and sank into a sofa in the dark living room, trying to keep his mind as blank as possible.

'What do we do with him?' whispered the boy with the glasses.

'We need to return him to his home, of course' said the girl.

'But it's too risky. I'm scared how the Death Eaters found us so quickly today. They would've killed us if we wouldn't have been quick. I think I even saw a couple of them outside the house' said Red.

Death Eaters? Were they running away from the members of a cult? He was faintly reminded of the case of The Red Circle. He heaved a sigh of relief. These kids weren't criminals as he had thought. They were merely defending themselves. What had they done that they had to be on the run?

'I think we should let him stay here for a while. With us. He won't try anything funny if he's as clever as he looks. I wonder how he knew my parents were dentists..' she trailed off.

He chuckled to himself. Simple girl.

'We need to obliviate him first' said Glasses.

'Why? We'll do it before he returns back home anyway. There's no point doing it now, he'll just forget about everything that we've explained to him. And we need to tell him to call of the police officers. The grey haired one is his friend I guess. I don't want You- Know -Who to kill him and others just because he was doing his job. The Death Eaters should be left alone' she said.

Clever girl, he thought. In many ways, she was like him. She spoke extremely fast and used correct grammar, he noted with satisfaction. His initial fear had faded away and now he was truly excited to discover more about this world he had stumbled upon. If they were smart, they would wipe off his memories before he returned to Baker Street.

Hastily, he texted Lestrade to tell him to leave the two men in the cafe and leave the place immediately. He sent the next text to John, telling him that he would return home only after a few days.

'Sent the texts already? You are quick aren't you? Hermione Granger' said the girl, extending her hand.

'Sherlock Holmes' he said, shaking her hand.

'Ron Weasely' said Red.

'Harry Potter' said Glasses.

The week he spent in Grimmauld place could only be described as overwhelming. So much information, so many new things to learn and no nicotine! His poor mind was almost exhausted. The wizards were at war, he learnt and Harry Potter, the boy with the glasses, was expected to end it by defeating the Dark Lord or You-Know-Who as they called him. For some reason, they wouldn't speak his name, which he thought was pretty ridiculous.

The girl, Hermione Granger, was clearly the brains behind the trio. He found her quick wit and presence of mind very impressive indeed and he wished there was someone like her in the Yard instead of the complete imbeciles Donovan and Anderson. She was a fiery person within and the many arguments he had had with her in the course of the week had told him as much. 'Man-Child', that is hwat she called him when he thought he wasn't listening.

The week flew by and his time was up. He was to go back home with Hermione as apparently she was the only one who knew how to wipe off memories.

It was midnight when they arrived at 221B with a loud crack. He collapsed on his bed, not used to the sensation of travelling through thin air or 'apparation' as they called it. Thankfully, John was a heavy sleeper and he didn't wake.

She had her wand pointed to his face, but her hand was trembling. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

He thought he knew what the problem was. He looked at her eyes and sure enough, her pupils were dilated. He smirked once before saying quietly 'It is alright. I won't tell'.

Relief flooded her features as she sank into a nearby armchair before standing up suddenly.

'I need to go. Harry and Ron will be waiting. Goodbye Sherlock. It was nice meeting you' she nodded at him before tucking her wand inside her pocket.

She was about to spin when he caught her wrist. Her pulse was thundering against her wrist as he leaned in and whispered in her ear

'Tell me, did this really happen or is it all in my head?'

He could see her smiling as she whispered back before vanishing on the spot.

'Of course it's been happening in your head, Sherlock but why on earth should that mean it's not real?'.

A/n : There you go. This was probably not as good as it seemed in my mind but anyway, I hoped you enjoyed it.

Happy birthday once again Adi and I hope you had a wonderful day :)

Aditi xoxoxo