Thomas found his father in the lounge and plonked himself into the opposite armchair. "Dad we had a great day. We feed the ducks and went to the museum and saw a fossil of a fish millions and millions of years old."

"Slow down," said Sherlock who had been laying on the couch thinking with his fingers in a praying pose under his chin. Sherlock turned his head to look at his son's excited face then swung his legs to the floor to sit up straight. "Has he found a school yet?"

"Who?

"The great Detective Lestrade?"

"Nope, we went past a few but he wants to choose a house first. We feed ducks in the park."

"I thought you were going to the zoo?"

"After the zoo dad, we went to the zoo then feed the ducks in the park. Do keep up."

"Right, Greg put the bread in the backpack. So obvious. What about your doctor's appointment?"

"The zoo was great dad, thanks for asking. Dr Watson made a badger walk up my arm. Can you do that?"

"Illusion, so childish, a waste of magical powers," huffed Sherlock.

"So you can't," said Thomas his attention distracted as Mink brought in a tray with hot chocolate, tea and a huge pile of sandwiches and placed them on a table within easy reach.

"No, not worth remembering. What else did the great Dr Watson say?"

"He made a really cute fairy with wings dance on Greg's hand. Then he gave me a flu injection." Thomas reached out and grabbed a sandwich.

"Bogus, fairies are not, and can in no way, be described as cute, ever."

"Trust me dad, this one was cute. She had a super short green skirt and her top was cut really low and Uncle Greg smiled like he smiles at Uncle Mycroft before they suck faces."

"Revolting image," said Sherlock as he picked up his cup of tea. He shook his head when Thomas held the plate in his direction "You did that on purpose to distract me. Now, the floo injection, what exactly is a travel injection and why did you need it?"

"Not a floo injection," said Thomas and took a bite of his sandwich. "A flu injection. It stops muggles getting sick. Greg got one too. He said muggles get one each year. Dr Watson also gave me some tablets. He said they could make me into a Hufflepuff. I need to take one at night and one each morning."

"And where is this medication?"

"Uncle Greg has it. He's going to talk to you." Thomas took another bite and chewed. "Did you know Uncle Greg is allergic to magic? He scratched his hand after the fairy danced on it. Dr Watson said it was something to do with Uncle Mycroft's ring because it became warm to the touch. If Uncle Greg is unwell, you will make him better won't you dad. I don't want Uncle Greg to get sick." Thomas finished the sandwich in two bites and reached for another.

"I'll speak to Mycroft if you like. Lestrade didn't look good this morning, mentioned something about the blue powder. Mycroft will be troubled if Greg becomes allergic the travel magic. Still, it would stop him putting his nose into my business every five minutes."

"Yeah but he couldn't take me to the zoo so I'd just have to meet him at Mycroft's. Don't forget dinner at the Blue Hawk."

"Why does everyone keep saying that, how hard is it to remember a dinner with Mycroft. Anyway I instructed Mink to remind me."

Which in Sherlock speak didn't just mean remind him verbally but Mink had permission to drag his dad out of the basement if necessary. "Is mum coming?"

"God I hope not, it's bad enough your uncle will be there."

"Greg thinks I should get a tutor to help me get ready for class."

"What for? I've been schooling you for years."

"I have to learn muggle math, geography, english, chemistry, and art." Thomas reached for another sandwich, opened it up to peer inside. He pulled out the lettuce leaf which he dumped back onto the plate.

"You grandmother is a financial wizard for Gridngots which has something to do with numbers if I remember correctly. You speak English as well as Latin and Greek. What is there to learn? And as for art, merely paint thrown at a canvas though you may need a degree to explain the inner rage it represents."

"I'll ask Uncle Mycroft then shall I?" Thomas reached for another sandwich.

"Do slow down or you will make yourself sick."

"I'm a growing lad, dad. Don't you know teenagers eat everything in sight?" Thomas grinned. "Do you want that?" he waved his hand in the direction of the plate.

"Go ahead just don't forget Mink will expect you to eat dinner."

Thomas shrugged, "dinner is hours away. Dr Watson said I got most of my injections at St Michaels. Is that true?"

"Yes, no, maybe." Sherlock took a sip of his tea.

"You forgot didn't you?"

"Deleted may be a more accurate word Thomas. In my defence Mycroft forgot too."

"Mmm," Thomas picked up his cup and started drinking, Socks made the best hot chocolate.

"I'm going to tell him you said that."

"Anything else I need to know?"

"Nope. Oh, I have another appointment next week with Dr Watson. Greg said he would try to fit in a football match."

"Football?"

"Don't worry, something else I have to learn for school. It's a muggle sport sort of like quidditch only on the ground with no brooms. Greg said he would teach me."

"Mmmm" there was a pause. "I could teach you the violin I expect."

"No thanks dad, I'd rather learn the drums and be in a rock band." Thomas sipped on his hot chocolate a bit slower to savour the taste. He didn't get an automatic refill like his father. Socks believed hot chocolate was fattening and young children should not have too much. "Dad, Dr Watson said I could be a Hufflepuff. What's a Hufflepuff?"

"It's one of the houses at Hogwarts." Sherlock reached over, picked up the lettuce leaf and started nibbling around the edge. When that was gone he picked up an egg sandwich and took a small bite.

"Do you think I could be a Hufflepuff?"

"Oh, doubtful, they were rather a pathetic bunch who believed in fair play and hard work. Quite the opposite of a Slytherin."

"What about during the war?"

Sherlock peered at this son. "During the war they were extremely impressive, which shocked quite a few of the fighters. No one expected a group with such useless talents would stand firm against the dark arts."

"Dad, you are such a snob. Are there any books in the library?"

"About what?" muttered Sherlock staring into the fireplace.

"Hufflepuff's, did you know their symbol is a badger?"

"Of course, they take their magic from the earth after all. Ask Socks, she would probably know. Or try Mycroft's library, he keeps all sort of useless information."

"Ok," Thomas held the mug high to let the last bit of hot chocolate dribble down onto his tongue. "Can I go visit Grandad?" he said as he dumped his mug next to the empty plate.

"Homework first," said Sherlock automatically.

"It's the holiday's dad, no homework remember."

Sherlock stared at his son. "Fine, but tell Socks and don't be late for dinner."

"Thanks dad, you're the greatest." Thomas ran for the door where he stopped. "Don't forget, Dr Watson, Hufflepuff, medication, Greg's sick, I need a tutor and the Blue Hawk for dinner. Bye dad." Then he was gone, out the door before Sherlock could utter a word of rebuke. The house once more settled into its silent state.

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"I think I've found a house," said Greg four days later. "It's in Baker Street near Regents Park. It's got two bedrooms, kitchen and a laundry and it's on the bus route for school."

"I requested a fireplace," said Sherlock.

"Of course it's got a fireplace, maybe two."

"Well does it have one fireplace or two? How hard is it to count fireplaces or is that too much for your feeble mind."

Greg gritted his teeth and told himself not to hit the bastard. "Flat B upstairs has one fireplace and flat C downstairs has another one. I thought guests could enter from the down stairs flat and that way Mycroft wouldn't walk directly into your bedroom."

"Oh, well the place may have merit after all. Leave instructions and I'll take a look."

"Not on your own you won't," said Greg. "I'll take Thomas and Mycroft tomorrow and if they like the flat you can go take a look."

"I'm the one living there, I should be first to see it."

Greg shook his head. "And I'm not letting you loose on the muggle world on your own until you know how to behave. Now Thomas has another doctor's appointment so that will fit in nicely."

"How boring. I suppose you expect me to sit in on Thomas's etiquette lessons as well."

"It wouldn't hurt for you to learn how to live in the human world Sherlock, for Thomas."

"Rubbish, nothing to it."

Greg sighed and tried to keep his temper. "Thomas is going to need a school uniform, stationary and stuff so that will be another shopping trip. Mycroft organised the paperwork to verify a transfer from out of district. They aren't expecting him until the 23rd. If you don't like Baker Street I've found three more possible rentals depending on how much money you want to spend."

"Fine."

"Now, is he getting his medications? Dr Watson's going to ask." Greg rubbed his temple and closed his eyes. "There was something I had to tell you. Something about wizards."

Sherlock sneered, "Yes he gets his tablets, one at night and one in the morning, with food as instructed. If you don't believe me ask Mink. We have spent an r each day learning simple spells but it's no bloody good. A Hufflepuff. Do you know what a Hufflepuff is Detective. Of course you don't because you are completely useless. A Hufflepuff is friendly and loyal and modest. The very thought of encouraging my son to aspire towards being a Hufflepuff makes me want to be ill. I think I would prefer my son be a muggle." Sherlock banged his head on the table. "Shot me now."

"Sherlock, do stop being dramatic" said Mycroft. "Not everyone can have an ego the size of a house."

"I don't see what's wrong with being loyal and friendly," said Greg.

"You won't," said Sherlock as if that proved his point.

"If you're so smart why don't you make a fairy dance on the table?" said Greg. "Go on then show me what you can do.

Sherlock sneered, pulled out his wand and muttered a spell. Greg stood up and started dancing like a ballerina.

"No," said Mycroft in a bored tone and flicked his hand to cancel the spell. "Really Sherlock, what are you five?"

"What just happened? For a moment I thought ... you wanker Sherlock."

"You did ask for a dancing fairy," said Sherlock in a very bored tone with a hint of a grin on his face.

"Mycroft you promised."

"What did you do Sherlock?" Mycroft reached out to examine Greg's hand. "Magic, especially yours, should have no effect."

"Nothing. Oh all right, I picked the lock, then fixed the ring. Child's play really. Thomas was worried about Greg getting sick so I rearranged the protection layers.

"I do wish you would use your magic for something more worthwhile, brother mine."

"And how is the dancing fairy working for you Mycroft?"

"Better than your badger brother, I know for a fact you tried and failed."

"A complete waste of time, I have better things to do with my mind."

"Would everyone please focus?" snapped Greg. "Some of us have work in the morning. Sherlock do you want help to purchase the school stuff?"

"Right then," said Greg when Sherlock merely shrugged. "The doctor's appointment is tomorrow followed by flat finding. Then Sherlock takes a quick look and Thomas starts school a week Monday. Questions?"

"There is a small chance I can't make it tomorrow," said Mycroft. "Politics, I may not be free until after 4.00 pm."

"Right slight change in plan. I'll take Thomas to his appointment, the school and the flat and if he likes it you can visit after work."

"Thomas has been to some of the best healers money can buy. I don't see what you expect a used up healer, so lacking in magic he works as a muggle, achieve where others have failed?"

"Muggle kids go to muggle doctors so you better get used to it. Just be grateful Dr Watson understands magic."

"Magic, that quack gives out fake medicine and promotes the power of positive thinking. If I believe my son is a wizard then he will be. If this is a statement of muggle medicine then God help us all."

Greg rubbed his temple again. "Right, moving on. Mycroft has hired a teacher to prepare Thomas for school."

"He's on holiday."

"School started last week so he can lump it. Right are we agreed?" Both of the Holmes brothers nodded much to Greg's relief.

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"What is it Mink." Sherlock dropped a frog into his potion.

"Mr Lestrade is unable to take the young Master to his appointment."

"Appointment?"

"With the doctor Sir."

"What about Mycroft, I thought I was excluded from the great house hunt."

"Master Mycroft was called away unexpectedly by the Ministry. He has requested you attend the appointment with Thomas."

"Don't be ridiculous, the Doctor is obviously a quack. No reason for Thomas be subjected to such an idiot. The whole idea is ridiculous."

"Shall I cancel the appointment then Sir?"

"Yes. No. Wait." Sherlock held up his hand to silence Mink. "No, I think I'll have a talk with this Dr Watson." Sherlock pulled his wand out the cauldron and tapped it on the side. "Find the London address, it's written on that bottle of pills and find me a map of London. Inform Thomas the appointment is cancelled. He said he wasn't feeling very well today so no need to bother him about this."

"Of course Sir."

"And I'll need money, muggle money. There must be some around here somewhere. Greg can't be paying for everything."

Mink disappeared and returned with money, maps and a coat. Sherlock scanned the map getting his bearings, grateful that Greg had made him sit in on the boring lessons about the muggle world and London in particular. The closest magical portal to the surgery was the Wobbly Hen Tavern and the distance didn't seem part apart. Sherlock smiled, a taxi would be the answer and how hard could it be.

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"Ah, Mycroft, good to see you. I hear young Thomas won't be attending Hogwarts. Bit of a pity that he would have made an excellent Slytherin. Do remind Sherlock to complete form 14B for the Education Ministry. Well, nice speaking to you, must be off."

Then he was gone, red robes flapping behind him as Mycroft stared. If Mycroft remembered correctly form 14B was transfer of schools which shouldn't be required for anyone non magical. An error on behalf of the Ministry of Education was possible. A stuff up by Sherlock was much more likely, thought Mycroft as he returned to his office.