After the initial surprise, Hermione continued to try and get John comfortable in the presence of magic. She summoned a loaded tea tray and watched intently as the shock slowly began to wear off for him. Rosie also came over and chose to crawl in Hermione's lap – much to the bemusement of her father and the displeasure of her godfather who wanted the little girl for himself. John couldn't help but to laugh when Hermione stuck her tongue out at Sherlock in a neener-neener kind of way. She's a cheeky one, he thought. It was also quite impressive that she could get the usually standoffish detective to relax so much and again he wondered, with a bit of uneasiness, exactly how well they knew each other.
Over tea, Hermione answered John's most pressing questions about where Rosie got her magic and what would happen next. First, she explained to him about the Pureblood and Halfblood magic users. Then, she clarified how both she and Rosie fit into the grand scheme of things. She spoke about it passionately and it was obviously a topic close to her heart.
"The witches and wizards in the third category are known as Muggleborns. The Muggleborns are first generation magic users who come from families who usually had no previous knowledge that magic even existed, much less that somebody in their gene pool could actually use it! There may have been some magical ancestors somewhere down the line on one side or the other of these families, but they are generally so distant that nobody knows about them. However, despite the lack of magical ancestry, or perhaps even because of it, Muggleborns can be just as powerful, or even more so, than their Pure and Halfblood contemporaries. In fact, they don't call me the Brightest Witch of my Age for nothing, you know!" Here she winked and then laughed merrily at John's surprised look and Sherlock's typical little snort of derision.
She muffled the laugh quickly, however, as the toddler in her arms snuggled down deeper. After smiling fondly at the tot (a sight that warmed John's heart in a completely unexpected way), she then proceeded to tell him all about Hogwarts and the letter that he could expect once Rosie turned eleven. The discussion about Platform 9 ¾ was interrupted, however, by a loud yawn from the little girl. She was apparently ready for a nap since her belly was full and she was warm and comfortable. Therefore, Hermione put down her teacup, which John had just refilled for her, and shifted the little one into a more comfortable position. Both of the men then watched as she bounced the child lightly while patting her bottom at the same time. In no time at all, Rosie was asleep.
"You're very good with her." John remarked with a little bit of surprise, as he watched his daughter fell asleep in the arms of someone who was a complete stranger to her. She was not usually particularly fond of anyone beyond their little circle of friends. It was even more astonishing because Rosie almost never took naps anymore. "Do you have any children of your own?" he asked, not quite willing to admit exactly how interested he was about her life. He didn't see a wedding ring, but that didn't mean that she wasn't attached to someone and already had a family.
"Oh no!" she laughed. "No husband or boyfriend, either - just in case you were wondering. However, I do have two godchildren who like to keep me on my toes. Speaking of whom…ironically…my goddaughter is an adorable little ginger lass whom we also call Rosie. Plus, she is about the same age as this pretty little blonde flower here." Hermione paused to tenderly push a stray curl off of the sleeping toddler's face. "As for getting her to sleep, I learned that technique several years ago because James, my godson, was a reluctant napper. I could always get that little move to work for him, though. It used to drive Harry, my best friend and James's father, quite mad – just because he never could manage it."
"It wasn't magic, then?" John asked, not quite believing that he had already accepted, at face value, everything she had told him about her powers. However, with all that she had shown him, how could he possibly doubt anything that she had said? Plus, Sherlock had obviously known about it all along, as well. Sherlock was the most skeptical person he knew. Therefore, if a man like that actually believed in magic, then what argument could John possibly have against it?
"Nope, just love," Hermione replied to his question with another flash of that beautiful grin that seemed to reach right down inside of him. He fancied that he could actually feel it warming something that had laid cold and barren there since Mary's death.
Sherlock, in his usual manner, just sat back and observed the situation as it unfolded. In fact, he had already made his own deductions and predictions on the matter. He had known Hermione for several years and John for even longer. Therefore, he was definitely not surprised that the two of them were getting along so well…or that there was also the possibility of something more there. There was an interest present in John's eyes that he had not seen in a long time and Sherlock was not shy about bringing up the subject to his best friend and former flatmate once Hermione volunteered to take Rosie up to her room to put her to bed.
"Well?" the detective asked as soon as they were alone. John just glanced at him questioningly. "Hermione…" Sherlock clarified with his typically impatient huff. "You are obviously attracted to her," he told the doctor smugly.
"Wh…what? I don't…I mean…we just met, Sherlock." John sputtered with a bit of embarrassment since he had been preoccupied with watching Hermione carry Rosie up the stairs once he had given her directions to the little girl's room. He had to admit that he had found the sight to be quite attractive, but Sherlock didn't need to know that. Somehow, he realized that the overly observant self-righteous bastard probably already did, though, as the man continued to look at him while he waited for an answer. John just sighed and quickly changed the subject. "How do you know Hermione?" he asked, throwing the ball back into Sherlock's court.
"I saved his arse in the Bulgarian wilderness about…oh…over four years ago now." Hermione answered when she suddenly came back into the room and reclaimed her seat.
"Oh!" exclaimed John as he had a sudden realization, "that was when you were gone…"
"Hunting the spiders…yes," Sherlock answered gravely. Neither one of the men ever felt comfortable talking about the couple of years after Sherlock had faked his own death and left London to go after Moriarity's followers, so he quickly continued the story. "Hermione was kind enough to lend her services after I had been…temporarily detained. It was completely unnecessary, of course. I was just biding my time…"
Hermione snorted. "You were about to get a bullet to the head, Sherlock! You were just lucky that Dolohov was distracted and did not Avada you right there before I even realized that they had a captive in their camp." She then turned her attention back to John. "At any rate, I saved his life then...and then later he returned the favor and saved mine. We have been friends ever since!"
"Dolohov? Avada?" John asked, completely bewildered.
"Sherlock was not the only one out hunting spiders right then," she said grimly. "I happened to be in the country visiting an old friend, when I heard a rumor that Dolohov, the dark wizard, was in the midst of what turned out to be a group of Sherlock's targets. The Avada Kedavra was the killing curse that Dolohov used… among others…quite prolifically, I might add..." At this statement, Hermione's cheerful smile had slipped off her face and had been replaced with a cold dark look in her eyes. John knew that look well. For the first time, he could see that there was even more to the woman than a pretty face and an ability to perform magic. She had seen war, too, and she had the mental scars to prove it.
In just a moment, she proved that she had the physical scars, as well, as she continued to explain. "In fact, he was the one who gave me this when I was just sixteen," she explained as pulled her blouse up to right beneath her breasts. A huge scarred purple slash diagonally bisected her abdomen and the doctor in him was amazed that she had survived something that was obviously meant to disembowel her. He felt a wave of fury against the man who had done this to such a young woman. He looked over at Sherlock to see how he felt about what had happened to his friend. Sherlock's mouth was drawn into a tight thin line, but he said nothing and he did not look surprised. Therefore, John knew that he had seen it before. The thought caused another odd little stab of envy. Why was that? John knew he ought to feel happy for his friend if he had indeed found someone who could put up with him and all of his idiosyncrasies. However, John suddenly knew that he did not want that someone to be Hermione. For some reason, he felt drawn to this intriguing woman and moved to comfort her by covering her hand with his own. With that little action, the darkness left her eyes and the smile suddenly returned to her face as she gave his hand a little squeeze of gratitude. He noticed that her touch made his skin tingle in a very pleasant way. The effect was cut short, however, when she looked over at the clock on the wall.
She sighed before saying, "It's been really nice to meet you, John, but I'm afraid that I have a meeting with the other Holmes brother in just a few minutes. I'm sure you two know how he is about promptness!" She paused to shake her head with exasperation before she looked back over at Sherlock. "Wanna come with me?" she asked slyly.
"Thank you, but no." Sherlock replied. "I will pass this time, no matter how entertaining his reaction was last week when you turned his umbrella handle into a snake."
Hermione grinned merrily at him. "That's what he gets for trying to intimidate me – and he is supposed to be a smart man? Hmmph! Next time, forget the umbrella, he will be the one I transfigure!"
While Sherlock snorted with amusement at that, John looked at them both with surprise. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "You know Mycroft, too? He knows about magic?"
Hermione sighed again, "Of course he knows…he is the British government – even if he has difficulty realizing that I don't actually work for him."
"Hunting dark wizards…Mycroft…" John thought aloud before blurting out, "I am almost afraid to ask, but exactly what kind of work do you do?"
"Well, I don't usually hunt dark wizards...not anymore, at least. Nowadays, I save that for Harry and his team. However, what happened in Bulgaria was…personal." Hermione said as her hand subconsciously rested on her abdomen before her countenance lightened again as she threw a smile over at their mutual friend. "Meeting Sherlock there was just a bonus! At any rate, I guess you could say that I am a freelance special investigator – Magical division. Just consider me the Sherlock of the magical world – except I solve the cases that he can't handle." With a laugh at the suddenly sour look on Sherlock's face, she turned to John and surprised him with an Accio for his mobile. It zoomed off of the table where he had set it down and landed in her outstretched hand. After she had put in her contact information, she handed it back to him with another smile.
"Of course I will check in with you, but feel free to call me anytime you need to if Rosie has a burst of accidental magic that you just can't handle or even if you just have a question about something. I know that this is a complicated and disconcerting situation for you right now, and I bet that you are going to think of a thousand questions right after I leave. Sherlock can probably help you with some of them, but I will be here if you or little Rosie need me." With that warm statement, she leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. She smiled brightly at the surprised look on his face before adding, "It was so nice to meet you, John – and I really look forward to next time." Then to add to the shocks and strangeness of the day, she also gave Sherlock an identical kiss, as well, before waving goodbye to them both. She didn't walk to the door, though. She just took a couple of steps to the middle of the room and then disappeared with a sharp cracking sound.
"Wow!" exclaimed John, amazed by both the kiss and the sudden realization of how she had gotten to his house so fast earlier.
"Indeed," Sherlock replied as he nodded his head knowingly. "Now, as for my earlier observation…Are you planning to ask her out?" John just stared at him blankly. Sherlock sighed at his friend's incompetence. "Really, John! How did you ever get Mary to go out with you without me here to help you?"
"I think your absence was what did the trick that time," John snarked as he finally came back to his senses. Returning to the subject at hand, he asked uncertainly, "Would she…want to, do you think? I mean…she is quite extraordinary!"
"Just ask her, John."
John paused. "It feels strange, you know, thinking about another woman after all this time," he answered, as an unexpected surge of guilt and uncertainty crept in under his defenses.
Sherlock nodded in understanding. He had cared for Mary, as well, but... "It's been over two years, John. You are allowed to move on with your life."
"What about you?" John asked suddenly, purposely changing the painful topic, and at the same time bringing out into the open what had bothered him all afternoon. "You and Hermione seem…close. Aren't you interested in her?"
"She's too good for me," Sherlock stated seriously. "However, she just might be worthy of you." John didn't know what to say about such a vast compliment from the man who rarely gave them. Therefore, he didn't say anything at all and the two men finished their tea in the comfortable silence of a long established friendship.