A Harry Potter/Sherlock/Doctor Who Crossover

Just A Child

Tasha

When Harry was six years old he was taken from his relatives by a woman from America. Tasha Parker was renting a house on a Timeshare contract two doors down from Number 4 Privet Drive. She, not being a sit on her tail and watch sort of person, witnessed something that wasn't to be borne. She realized who she was seeing, yes, and it cleared up a few things she'd recently discovered, but that didn't mean she didn't go out there and break up the bullies, all four pounding on one small child, by laying about her with a leather strap, sending them howling off to their houses.

She also dealt with the angry Dursley male who came out in response, by laying the back of her hand across his fat lips, swelling them further, then telling him exactly what she thought of a man who used a little boy for a punching bag when he got home after being frustrated at work to relieve his tensions...in front of all the neighbors. She then offered to kick the shit out of him herself. He obtained several deep cuts and was blackened with nasty bruises before backing off and allowing her to bundle the nearly comatose child into her own house to tend to his hurts.

The damage was done, though, as the screams of "He deserves it, he's a freak! If I want to beat the crap out of him for fun, I have the right!" from Vernon had the neighbors staring at him in disgust. As one lady put it, to Vernon's face.

"You pervert! You are not normal! Harry is not a freak, he's just a little child! Normal adults do not beat little children the way you're talking about! You need to move, you're not welcome in this area, we're normal people here!" He heard her say to his utter horror. Petunia was going to kill him. "Petunia's no better if she put up with this and Dudley looks just like you so he's likely a pervert as well...we don't want any of you here!"

Later, at the hospital, she came to the conclusion, given the number of the reports that the constables there had record of that suspiciously seem to have gone uninvestigated, that someone with money was paying someone in the local police off. And she said so, loudly.

Unsuccessful at hushing her, the police in question tried to threaten her and she just handed over a couple of cards, one from the American Embassy and the other from her consulate. She had no idea when she had obtained most of what she had but she was starting to suspect she'd been swapped out for this universe's version of her.

At any rate, nobody in Little Whinging really wanted to open a can of worms that big...so they shut up. The judge that had made the most money from Vernon's payoffs knew the Dursleys didn't want the brat anyway, so he gave the American custody and only then called Vernon. To his surprise, he got a huge bonus cheque for getting the boy out of their hair without any charges on the family.

The woman hadn't minded taking responsibility for the little lad, but when he hinted at wanting a bribe, she'd pinned him with a look that chilled him to the bone. When he'd flinched, she'd given him his own set of the two cards and raised an eyebrow. "How deep do you really want us to start digging?" She asked him. He shut his mouth, paling.

"Thought not. Don't try your silly little small-town games with me or I'll show you how we play this game back home. I'm not a polite little Englishwoman worried about the opinions of her neighbors. I'm a full-grown, red-blooded, American Female and a Daughter of the South. If you do not wish to be on the receiving end of Pissed Off Southern Womanhood, you really need to get out of my face." She growled. "I've already got a private physician lined up for little Harry as well as a P.I., so we're gonna find the dirt, but you got time to retire to somewhere warm and tropical. I'd suggest you not letting the dust settle before you do that. You got a few weeks, no more, cuz I'm gonna see if I can't hire Sherlock Holmes to do the dirt digging. Normally, I don't think he'd go for this sort of case, but if I piss him off first, by introducing the boy who is so starved for affection that he'll give it to anyone that doesn't hurt him...and trust me, Sherlock will notice that quick...oh yeah, that lad will be all over you like syrup on a flapjack. Got an appointment for this evening to meet him."

The 'judge' turned ashen and scrambled out of his seat as she lifted Harry to her hip and headed off. He needed to get out of the country before his career of bribes was discovered. He was filthy rich and most of it was in offshore accounts, but he had to get out of the U.K. if he intended to enjoy it. He headed for Heathrow without looking back. The woman had both an Embassy and a Consulate to get through to get at her and the old man didn't intend to bother: Smarter to just get out, he hadn't gotten this far by being stupid. Old man Dumbledore was on his own.

Tasha showed up at the Baker's Street address a good bit early just to make sure she could find it later...wondering when and how her life had gone so weird. There was much the Embassy was unaware of and at that there were only a very few people she'd even consider speaking to of any of it. She was aware there was a good chance the third man of those few people might very well stick his nose into it on his own, but she had no reason to deal with maybes. Life had been much simpler before she'd been dragged through that portal, or whatever it was. She really hoped both Holmes lived up to their press, though. She was tired of dealing with morons.

"At least, he'd be a better example for you than that bunch you were with, Harry." She told the boy. "But I really, really shouldn't be here. Since I am, though, and am a top rate busybody, let's see how many of the rather nefarious plans your would-be headmaster has for you, that we can get in the way of, shall we? I think the old man is a perve or something, personally. Would sure explain loads."

Harry was confused, but not as much as he had been before Ms. Parker had started explaining things. He understood some now, for instance, since she'd taken him to a wonderful place called Diagon Alley, to a special bank to investigate some things...and his account manager had explained it all. Goblins were not known to be especially patient, but when confronted with a child they certainly were. After dealing with the wizarding accounts and titles, and getting the Heir's Ring for Harry to wear she'd asked about any muggle items, such as lordships or parliamentary seats. She struck investigative gold there since the headmaster had gotten an oath from them not to reveal any of it unless asked. Harry had a second godmother, as all magical children did...only Harry's was the Queen of England.

This was the real reason they were where they were, at an apartment building on a road called Baker's Street. She watched as someone that almost had to be Sherlock got out of a black car with an annoyed expression...and she grinned. Taking the beautiful opportunity she had been given, she led Harry up to the car and handed the occupant the huge sheath of parchment she'd gotten from Gringotts.

"Okay, Harry, we'll head over to that park we saw and you can spend some time playing while the idiot in the car finishes gibbering, must say I'm rather glad he was here, though. Saves me from having to find him first before giving him those papers."

Mycroft had heard the remark, though his head reeling even as he read. As soon as the sense of what he had in his hands made it to his brain, he started barking orders and when an escort for the park-bound pair showed up and surrounded them before they'd walked a block, she just grinned at them.

"Love to make someone gibber who thinks themselves immune: Turns out that 'gibbering' is a good look for Mycroft. I'm American enough to try for repeats, just for fun." She told the nearest, who quirked his mouth into a half-smothered smile. "Next thing is, okay, don't mean to alarm the MoM, but yeah, I'm in the know and I have to assume your team-mates are aware. If not, they should be...so, whichever one of you is the wizard in the detail, stay close to the lad. If he does any accidental magic, it's your problem, hear me? Mycroft will have included at least one, I'm sure."

"Two, actually. For the godson of the Queen? Oh yes. Add in 'magical child' to that? Definitely." One grinned and the other nodded.

"He's six and on an emotional high just now, so keep a sharp eye out. The last time was an accidental apparition to the top of his primary school from ground level. Clear enough he's powerful, I think."

"Yeah, that would about do it, alright." The second wizard agreed. Both of them grinned broadly and proudly at the youngster before one stepped into an alley briefly to send a patronus to the Accidental Magic and the Underage Magic divisions to assume responsibility for the child's outbursts. "Need his name...we're taking responsibility for reversals as needed, see?"

"Oh, you are taking responsibility for far more than that. This little boy is Harry Potter and with the Longbottoms in long term care and Black in prison, the queen has custody of him." She told the two, watching them control their shock. "Aside from the magical bits, he's the heir to several muggle titles, assorted properties, a seat in Parliament and a fortune in muggle money that well and truly dwarfs his gold. Or so the reports we got from Gringotts say, I did ask them to take over the management of the assorted muggle accounts and they have done so.

His father was a muggle noble as well a magical one. That's the gist of what the parchment-work I gave him told Mycroft. As the nearest high ranking official, it made sense to make him aware that Harry's muggle relatives were abusive. Magic haters, them, see...and Albus knew it.

And on top of everything else, there is a prophecy that might have been engineered...faked, in the Hall of Mysteries. I think they'll be able to detect tampering if they know it's possible, so the one about Harry and the Dark Lord needs testing to see if an astrally projected, powerful wizard intercepted a Channel Witch and forced a false foretelling through. And if so, who was it?" She locked eyes with the elder of the wizards and he nodded, checking round for privacy and then sent his Patronus off with a message to this effect. Investigations of that nature needed to be started quickly and quietly. "UNIT U.K. has someone who can check and put him far, far out of reach, but the MoM needs to check as well. Could be you've more dark ones running about, nice and quiet, than you're aware of. Set the boy who will be mage-class if he lives to be a man against the Dark One in the open while he's still young and see if you can't get them both killed off...with just the one in the shadows left to take the catbird's seat of power?"

The first one was saying, "Is 'on the 'order of the queen' good enough for you? Thought so. Oh yes, seems she's Potter's second Godmother and has taken custody of him. Yes, we're oath-bound to her, the Wizard Corps, of course. Me and Manchester are with the bodyguard detail for little Harry just now, the muggle woman already knew the situation and alerted us so we could do something on our end...yes, quite familiar...okay, I thought so, she's obviously qualified. Now, here's her address, though she'll not be staying there long. Because she's an American, that's why not. Yeah, qualified on their side of the pond...and saved young Harry from a beating from the uncle this morning, yes, that's I said."

"Anyone who would set a chain of events off to start a self-fullfilling prophecy...?" The second wizard muttered to his contact via a tiny flame. "We at least know it wasn't Voldiesnort. And that means there is a second Dark Wizard, powerful and worse...hidden. As Parker suspected, obvious if it's known to be looked for...and it apparently was. Can you tell who did it? No, oh well, too easy, I suppose, let me know when you do."

"I'll do that, the point about a hidden dark wizard is very true...and not a welcome thought. But, yes, that was a dark and evil thing to do." The one who'd answered replied. "We know now though and I'll tell Croaker."

After they were both done with their communications they turned to her.

"Franklin Manchester, here. This is Roberto Vlwer." He smiled grimly. "Oathbound to the Queen, the both of us. You're officially listed as a Muggle That Knows...and a highly responsible one. You correctly assumed our team mates would know."

"Then one of you needs to take Harry's magical guardianship."

"I've set it up for Manchester. He's got kids, he does. I wouldn't know where to start or how to go on."

"So be it. Albus Dumbledore shall be blocked in whatever deep game he's playing and even Fudge won't disobey an order from her."

She walked along with them to the park and sent Harry to the playground equipment with two of the guards and Manchester while she found a bench to relax upon. "At this point, a threat to Harry is a threat to the Queen. Treat it as such. I doubt the MoM or Albus bothered to notify her of the Potter's deaths." She told them. "So far as I know, the wraith of Voldemort, born the legally wed son of Lord Thomas Riddle of Little Hangleton, but after later murdering his father for abandoning himself and his mother, I think he can be skipped...anyway, he's in wraith-form in an Albanian forest, as far as I know. Someone needs to deal with that...not Lockhart though. The Lockhart man's a fake, by the way...read his books and compare the dates...something else that needs looking into."

"It will be." Mycroft spoke from behind the guards. "I thank you for rescuing the queen's godson."

"Albus has got sort of some deep game going, I think." She lowered her voice. "And may very well be some sort of perve."

"So do I, yes...I do agree with you on both counts, but there are limits in what I can do."

"Well, I'd start by having one of the wizards on your payroll drop both adult Dursleys off on Azkaban Island, their son needs a new history and family...and a healer. Obese, that boy. Do not leave him with any memory of his parents or Harry. If the dementors get to the muggle adults relatives before Albus finds out they're in the prison...clear that one with Fudge first. Young Harry is an icon to the magical humans, they won't respond well if they find out Fudge had this reported to him and did nothing. So, report to Fudge, one of you...the other one needs to be talking to Skeeter...she won't allow it to rest. Make it clear that Albus placed him there knowing in advance the family were magic haters. Make it clear to Fudge that one of you came straight to him with the news and the other one is at the Prophet telling Skeeter the same thing. Ask for Kissing, simply because they cannot be allowed to get away with the systematic abuse of a mage-gifted magical child."

Vlwer nodded. "He'll go for that if he knows his options will be dictated by Rita."

"He's a politician and also, male. Not all that hard to work with as long a woman takes those two factors into account and brings an imaginary whip and chair along, embedded into her attitude and used with vigor." She grinned at their laughter. Even Holmes chuckled at the mental image.

"That I can arrange to have done." He nodded at one of them. "The address?"

"Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey...the charms and unplottable don't work on me because, one, I'm not magical and the wards are specific against magicals, two, I rented a house on timeshare just two doors down and thus know first hand where he was living and four, he no longer lives there."

The wizards both snorted. "You skipped three." One of them pointed out.

"Yes, and several others went completely unlisted. I should wait for either Kate Stewart's or Jack Harkness' permission to tell you that one: Probably won't, but I should."

"Why?"

"Well, it involves the owner and pilot of a certain, very special, Blue Police Box."

"Oh dear." Mycroft muttered. "One thing after another..."

"And I'm really, really, really not from around here...so I sorta need to let him know I want permission to remain."

"Because...?"

"Where I'm from, he, you and the magical world are all 'mini-universes', of the sort found in books, on television and in movies. Not real, and since details like the Dursley's address is given out in the books of the series, several times, there's nothing stopping me from telling people...since I've read the series a fair few times. I'm also fairly sure at this point that your version of me is where I used to live."

Holmes the elder started to swear, softly at first.

"And also, the best, safest place for Harry might just be off-world."

He cussed more viciously and a good bit louder now...his employees were a little pale. Except the pair of wizards...those two were just shaking their heads and watching the woman's face...they also stepped out of the line of fire.

"Mycroft, if Harry repeats so much as one word of that, even to ask what it was, I'm going to wash out your mouth with a strong liquid soap right before I take a strap to you where the sun doesn't shine. LANGUAGE!"

He froze, "Did you just threaten me?"

"No sir, that was a nice solid pair of promises. If you don't want to be blowing soap bubbles for a week and have belt marks on your bottom, you will refrain from using such terms in the presence of a child." She scowled at him. "You sir, should be well and truly ashamed of yourself."

She looked at his rather startled assistant and told her. "Call Sherlock, I won't have Harry exposed to Mycroft, not now that he's shown me just how foul-mouthed he is. There's no need to contribute to delinquency, after all and he's setting a dire example...I won't have it!"

She did, surprising Mycroft with the scowl on her own face when she looked at him, obviously agreeing with Parker. Not too long after, the younger Holmes and his boyfriend showed up on foot and Tasha explained what was going on...all of it. Mycroft, once he settled down, had reacted with a certain amount of contrite shame, though, because the woman was correct that such behavior was not to be condoned. Harry was barely six, after all.

Sherlock and John joined the detail with Harry and started to get to know the lad, still well within earshot of the rest of the adults.

"Boss, the Queen would like her godson brought to her."

"He'll ride with Holmes the younger, his boyfriend and myself. I do not now trust the elder Holmes son not to teach Harry to have a potty-mouth, straight off. He will learn nothing useful from such a cretin." She told them snappishly. She pulled a notepad from her purse as well as a pen, jotted something down and when Sherlock rejoined them with John and Harry, she passed him the note, startling a laugh from him when he read it. "I'll pass the question on, I promise. The reply should be facsinating." He promised, grinning fiendishly at his brother.

Sherlock exchanged a grin with John...it wasn't often Mycroft slipped up this badly, he was taking the woman's censure well though...he didn't say a word in fact nor would look her in the eyes, which told the pair, particularly Sherlock, more than enough about whatever type of vocabulary he'd used.

"Mycroft?" John began. "Surely not? Mister self-control cursing a blue streak in front of a small boy?" He let the question hang with the upward lift in his voice indicating he expected an answer. His frown of disapproval cut into the elder Holmes as easily as it did the younger one, perhaps moreso, just now.

"She startled me rather badly."

"Perhaps," Sherlock allowed, "But still. What would mummy say if she knew?"

Mycroft paled. "Yes. She then told me point blank that if he repeated a word of it, even to request a definition, she'd wash my mouth out with strong soap, then take a strap to me." Mycroft's tone was still disbelieving. "Meant it, too, I think."

"I do." She confirmed, shooting a dire glare at him.

"Ah...she did." Sherlock confirmed. "You really don't want to know what else I'm reading on her just now." Sherlock chuckled, before continuing. "Well, that explains the question. I don't think there will be a problem, though, all things considered." Sherlock was still grinning.

It was the first time, ever, that someone had asked him to ask his mummy for permission for them to wash out Mycroft's mouth and then take a strap to Mycroft...along with the reason for the request. He was going to enjoy mummy's reaction to the comments that were included, starting with the 'What is wrong with you British parents that you cannot even manage to teach your adult offspring that the use of foul language in the presence of a small child is a bad thing to do? Where was your mind, woman?' and went downhill from there, calling Mycroft by name and listing her intentions for his bottom. His elder brother was going to be in so. much. trouble...

Sherlock amused himself texting mummy with the commentary and the questions...then he waited, watching his brother. A few moments later Mycroft's cell rang. He watched his brother note the caller, answer it, turn quite pale, hold the phone tightly against his ear and shiver. Sherlock could make out mummy's voice, which meant she was shouting. After several moments, Mycroft hung up, looked at Ms. Parker and stated firmly. "Mummy promises that my bad habits are my own fault and that she did, in fact raise me better. This is true. She also promises a strap is unneeded and that she will..." He swallowed rather hard at this point, "Take care of the matter herself. She doesn't appreciate being embarrassed by my behavior on a morals issue. She also informs me that your having Sherlock go directly to her with your inquiry for permission to beat me along with the reason such a beating was needed, was absolutely the most underhanded thing to do to resolve it and she very much approves."

"I don't particularly care if she does or not. For example, while I heartily approve of Sherlock, after this I have no particular use for you. I seriously doubt she cares." She shrugged. "It was only that one doesn't publicly spank someone without parental permission."

"You do not trust Mycroft in the vicinity of a child, any child, now, period." Sherlock put in bluntly, "Trust me when I say my mummy will care, a great deal, actually. Embarrassing her like this, on a Morals Issue, isn't a safe thing for Mycroft to have done. Her punishments tend to be...inventive. Highly creative, our mummy."

A bit later, they departed in several cars, Mycroft's driver stopped along the route to fetch his mother so she could continue to do her own chewing out. Two hours later, though, when Harry asked Mycroft, in the presence of the queen no less, what some of those words had meant, the Parker woman fried him with her eyes as young Harry stumbled over the unfamiliar syllables.

His mother just gave him a Look that made him shudder...and the queen ordered him to refrain from interacting with young children until he could be trusted not to teach them nasty words.

"Since Harry will be with me for a while, during which I'll be introducing him to my grandsons and great grandson, your presence is not required." She paused. "I believe your mother wishes to have a few...words...with you. Take her home, Mycroft. Spend the weekend...sounds to me like you need her undivided attentions for a few days."

Even Sherlock shivered at the thought. "I'm sure when Monday comes, he will have his ability to tell appropriate behavior from inappropriate behavior back."

"Indeed he will." His mummy replied, glaring at his brother coldly. "Your assistant is a highly capable young lady, she can hold your spot for you while we're at the Country Seat. I don't want you to be distracted."

When the pair left, Mycroft's steps rather reluctant, Sherlock looked at the Parker woman. "Well played."

"She's the best authority to deal with his foul mouth."

"That she is," The queen agreed. "That she most certainly is: I'm very glad I'm not Mycroft."

"Me too." Sherlock agreed. "That would be a bit dangerous, just now."

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the youngest princes and their nannies, plus a lady introduced as a governess, who kept a watchful eye on the lot, including Harry. She would have to report to the queen that her godson had very likely spend the years with the other relatives under constant threat of harm. She noticed the signs of an abused child...and spoke with the Parker woman. She didn't like what she heard.

"He will have a governess, if the bow-tied version can be located after he's got Clara Oswald on board. I think the lady that does Mycroft's job for him most of the time has located Clara already and is having her brought. She's a known companion, though, and that means she's highly qualified. It will mean replacing her in her current caregiver role with another qualified woman, but Harry needs her more. Due to an incident in the future...her past, mind you, she's looked after children for several lifetimes, hundreds of years, actually. She'll need to be on the TARDIS full time since hopefully Bet will allow Harry to be raised on it. If the prophecy is faked, he needs to be out of reach of the perp. If it is real, he's safer if he's been trained by the Doctor for problem solving on a global scale. Either way, he's better off on the timeship. So his governess must be there as well."

"Bet?" The queen inquired.

"Hey, do I sound English to you?" Tasha asked with quite a bit of cheek. "Or like a politician or anyone else with heavily calloused, darkly stained, brown lips, for that matter?" Sherlock laughed out loud. He had seldom been around someone that knew what he could do and simply didn't care. It was rather new for the queen too, though and she wasn't sure how to react.

The queen got the impression Tasha considered one unstable at best and the other rather slimey. Then again, perhaps the displaced woman had a point and she'd rather enjoyed the reference to professional arse-kissers. "Very well, informal it is. Americans don't do politically correct well anyway."

"Nor do most of us want to. It's too fake and stupid to be of any interest." She told the old royal bluntly, hearing John choke and Sherlock snicker. "Those that do are posers and politicians...neither of which are of any real use to anyone."

As it grew late, Harry dozed off on couch and Sherlock found himself assigned as Harry's primary tutor, the queen ordered Sherlock and John to stay with Harry and Tasha, on planet or off. Kate Stewart showed up ten minutes after that and took the lot of them, including Manchester and Vlwer whom the queen had reassigned to ensure Harry got a decent magical education and as magical body guards, both to the boy and the rest of the small group, to the Tower to sent off a note through Space and Time...

He was technically employed by UNIT, Kate explained. He was to be assigned to raising Harry, therefore. His reaction should be hilarious.

"True." Tasha laughed. "But he'll also be able to keep Sherlock from getting bored...and he's got a ready-made exercise program involving lots and lots of running. Well, terror fueled sprints, too, but not as many."

"That's a plus, actually." John Watson confirmed.

Tasha smiled at the wizards. "You're going to have fun."

~tbc~