Chapter Three

Scotland Yard Requires Back Up

On the second morning break Sherlock was sitting at the table on the Great Hall apparently looking through his Potions' notes, but in fact, concealed by the big volume he held in his hands, was a catalogue of small bits of ropes he had collected himself over time. Some of them from his own home and neighbourhood, that he had sampled as a child, others were pieces he had found at Hogwarts since his first year. He had never needed it until now.

Molly was sitting by his side, immersed in homework, not sure if she should take care of History of Magic first, that was more demanding for her and needed more focus, or Potions.

Sherlock closed his book with a sudden thumping noise when he sensed three shadows walking together in the direction of the Ravenclaw's table. Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan sat in front of him, uninvited.

"We want to talk to you."

Molly looked up, startled and her eyes met Lestrade's who smiled instinctively. She blushed and smiled back.

"Alone." Anderson affirmed, staring intently at Molly.

"Oh!" She mumbled, gathering her things in a rush. "Oh, okay, I'll just…"

"No, you don't have to go." Lestrade said, getting up as she got up, worried about how rude they were being.

"No, it's fine." Molly said.

And she grabbed her purse and her books and left. Lestrade followed her with his eyes until she disappeared beyond the Hall. Sally pulled him by his sleeve, making him sit.

Sherlock seemed annoyed, but not surprised.

"I have nothing to talk to you about." He said.

"Yes, you do."

It was Sally who took the lead in the conversation. Lestrade was softer and Anderson had insisted in not talking to Sherlock himself that morning, while they were discussing their plan of action.

"We all want to know the same, so Lestrade here thought we might work together on this."

Sherlock could sense by the way she was speaking that Lestrade's idea did not please her, but that she had been the minority when deciding what to do, so now she had to comply.

"I couldn't care less what any of you think. What do I win from working with you? I know who you are; I've seen you working before. Hogwarts own private team of detectives." Sherlock's tone was mocking. "You're slow. You have figured out simple, easy cases; that's not enough to have me interested in working with you."

"Maybe not." Sally continued. "But we have means and connections and people who trust us."

Sherlock shrugged.

"The only reason you want me to work with you is because you have realised last night that I know more advanced magic and I have more clues than you. Don't try to trick me."

"We are not trying to trick you." Lestrade assured. "But you have vital clues for this investigation…"

Sherlock scoffed. Sally got up.

"I'm not staying here seeing him humiliating us. We can figure things out all by ourselves. We've taken care of cases before, we don't need an amateur."

Anderson held her by the cloak but let go as soon as she faced him, furious.

"You're a Muggle born and you have spent all of your childhood at Muggle School trying to prove your value. You're part of a minority, some kids were racist, and you have learned how to defend yourself. Better yet, you found out you have something none of them had: magic. So you made a vow to yourself that you would never let anyone take the best out of you and that you would prove that skin colour is not a restriction, that you are as worth of respect as anyone else. Your father is a tailor, your mother a hairdresser. You're proud of them and you want to show them, more than anyone, that you can thrive in anything you set your mind to. Even in a House whose students are in their majority Pure Blood. You want to stick out and prove that even against the odds you can be better than them."

Sherlock finished his deduction leaving a lot without saying. Not because he pitied her, he wasn't like that, but because by then Lestrade and Anderson seemed to be ready to jump out of the bench they were sitting on.

Sally leaned forward.

"I have no idea why you decided to question people about me or who got you that information, but I am not afraid of you."

"I didn't ask anyone. I can see it."

"See it?"

"Yes, see it. Plain as day. Where should I start? On the necklace you are wearing that has a lock in which you clearly stacked your acceptance letter? On your cloak's fabric that you can't find anywhere in Diagonally, the perfection with which it was made and the lines that sew it together, that shows that it was not created by someone inside the wizarding world? You have different bits of hair on it though, because your mother washed it but then you went to her hair saloon before leaving for the train, and the seam, too long for you, grabbed a few hairs your mother had been cutting that day, on the way out."

Sally swallowed, frowning.

"You're so full of…"

"Oh, okay, okay! Can we please just calm down and talk?"

Lestrade had finally found some composure and stared intently at Sally, until she sat down by his side, not bothering to face Sherlock anymore.

"How did you do that?" Lestrade asked.

"How did I do what?"

Sherlock was pretending not to understand while enjoying the effect he had had in all of them. Even on Sally. No; especially Sally.

"That, what you just did. How can you possibly know all that about her? You said you haven't been asking."

"Why would I ask about her?" The spite on his voice was clear. "Why would I inquire about any of you?"

"So, how did you do it?"

Sherlock could decide not to answer, send them away and tell them to bugger off, but his ego spoke louder.

"I saw it."

"Saw it?" This time was Anderson that asked, with a chuckle.

"Yes, saw it. Like a map, like a book. I can read all of you with a single look. It's not difficult. Some people take a bit longer to figure out, but you are all obvious. Plain as day."

Anderson was going to retaliate but Lestrade raised a hand and crossed his hands in front of his chest.

"Okay, then. Do it. Read me."

Sherlock scoffed.

"Why?"

"Because I am curious and you are dying to show off. Go on."

Sherlock stared at him for a second and then sighed, as if bored.

"You didn't want to come to Hogwarts. And, in a way, you are still trying to make up for everything you lost once you came here. Which is why you have been playing Detectives ever since you got here for the first time. Your father cheated on your mother, she found out – is she the detective of the family, then? – and now they are going through the process of divorcing. You're still mad at both of them, specially your father to whom you don't speak ever since you came back to Hogwarts this year."

Lestrade, open mouthed, let his arms fall on his lap. He could not fathom how he had seen that. With Sally, the explanation was easy enough once told, but with him? He tried to talk but Sherlock cut his speech.

"So, as you can see, I really don't know what makes any of you think I will want to work with you. What do I get from it?"

It was Anderson who spoke; Lestrade was too in awe; Sally still too furious.

"We have means, we told you."

"What sort of means?"

"The laboratory. The Potions Room is by the Dungeons and Sally can use it. "

"All students can use the Potions Room. And it's by the library." Sherlock refuted.

"That's the Students' Potions Room." Sally explained, an expression of disdain still on her face. "You have access to a few ingredients, but not all. I don't know how you expect to examine that blood without Cruor."

Sherlock looked at her.

"I didn't know Hogwarts had a supply of Cruor."

"We know you didn't know." Sally replied. "But it has. We can't get our own sample of that blood you took because we don't know the counter curse for the concealment charm they used, and the Owlery will be out of bounds for a while, either way. The owls have been moved to the fields, the Professor of Care of Magical Creatures helped. By the time they allow us to get back to the Owlery it will all have been cleaned in the process, so there will be no use." She took a pause. "Hogwarts has a supply of various things that are out of bounds for students at the Teachers' Potions Room and I am the best student of my class, I have permission to use it, but I am not allowed to touch certain supplies without licence. I can still ask Professor Anguis for a bit of Cruor, research reasons, I'm sure she trusts me enough for that. And the sample you took, without that, is useless."

She knew how to play the cards. Sherlock nodded.

"Very well." He said. "But I have a question."

Lestrade nodded.

"Why do you guys call yourselves Scotland Yard?"

They all looked at each other and Sally rolled her eyes.

"Well, because we met when we broke up a fight between two guys who were discussing how many meters is a yard and we later found out we all have Scottish ancestors, and we needed a name for our group so… It fit. We were eleven years old but now the name is stuck." Lestrade added, as a way of excuse.

Sally looked embarrassed. Sherlock chuckled.

"And I thought nothing could sound more ridiculous than the name itself."

The school bell went off and they got up. Sherlock picked his things and started to pace away.

"So, are you going to help us?" Lestrade asked, before he was out of reach.

Sherlock turned around, walking backwards.

"Maybe. I'll let you know."

And he left them standing there at the Hall, going to his class with a smile on his face.