Author's Note: Yeah, so I had no intention of updating any of my other stories until after NaNoWriMo, but today I got angry and when I'm angry, I write. Turns out this chapter needed to be written and angry xxDustNight was perfect for it. So enjoy my loves because I am again not sure I will update until after NaNo has ended. As always, thank you for the feedback!

Thank you to GaeilgeRua for beta reading! I am forever grateful of your friendship and willingness to read my insanity! Much love, xxDustNight

Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, and information belongs to J.K. Rowling, BBC, or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Nights in 221B
Rated: M
Pairing: Hermione/Sherlock
Summary: When Hermione leaves the wizarding world behind, choosing to aid Sherlock in his desperate search for Moriarty, she learns much more about the consulting detective than she ever thought possible. *Sequel to Nights in Diagon Alley*

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter Ten

Wearily, Hermione stumbled back into the flat nearly forty-eight hours later. Sherlock was used to going this long without sleep, sometimes longer, but she was not. Feeling sleep calling to her, she decided she'd best make it to the bedroom rather than the front room in case Sherlock decided to make use of it for further deductions. After hanging her coat by the door, Hermione made her way toward the bedroom, bypassing the bathroom entirely. She was just too worn down to even attempt a shower right now.

Kicking off her shoes and discarding her jumper, Hermione plopped onto the bed in her jeans, camisole, and socks. She rolled onto her back and grabbed for the throw blanket to cover herself with while she rested. Sherlock had sent her back here alone after she'd nearly fallen asleep standing up while waiting for a cab. He was still out there, combing the city for any clue as to where Mary was being held captive. Forty-eight hours and still no sign of where she was… Things were looking grim.

Sighing, Hermione used her magic to turn out the lights, but made sure her mobile was by her head in case Sherlock or someone else texted or called. She just needed maybe five or six good hours of rest and she'd be set to jump back on the case. It didn't help that she and Sherlock were still in a funk. Honestly, she felt rather bad about that, but Hogsmeade needed to be forgotten. At least until Moriarty was caught and put behind bars for good.

Still, she hated that the two of them were not speaking as openly as they were used to. It made her antsy, and that certainly didn't bode well for the case. Sherlock had probably been able to tell how she was feeling, another reason she'd been sent home to rest, most likely. She was no help to Mary in this state, Hermione knew, so she let her eyes slide closed and sleep finally take her. Maybe when she woke up there would be a new lead…

. . . .

Something had caused Hermione to wake up, and judging by the groggy feeling in her head, she hadn't been asleep for long. Moving sluggishly, she opened her eyes to find the room still dark. When she made to roll over and turn on the light, Hermione panicked. Someone was kneeling on the bed, holding her legs and arms down with ease. Opening her mouth to scream, a hand was slapped over her lips, squeezing until it made it difficult to breathe.

"Hush now, Ms. Granger. There's no need to call anyone's attention to my presence…yet," a silky voice whispered into her ear. Hermione's blood ran cold at the realization of who this man was.

Moriarty.

She tried to scream, to throw him off, but it was no use. He had his full weight pressing her down into the mattress and her wand was in her coat. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Her eyes were wide and full of fear as she tried to see him, but the room was simply too dark. Obviously knowing how frightened she was, he chuckled, the sound low and sinister. She trembled, her heart beating erratically in her chest.

"Relax, love. I am just here to talk. I have no plans to harm you this night," Moriarty told her, his eyes boring down into hers. "If I release your mouth, you must promise not to use any of those tricky little spells of yours or I will be forced to shoot you dead." At that he nudged her inner thigh with his outer one and she felt the gun through the thin fabric of his trousers. "What do you say?"

Trying to swallow down her panic, Hermione nodded knowing she really had no other choice. When he pulled his hand away, she breathed deeply, finally able to take a full breath. When she was able to speak again, she hissed, "What do you want? Where's Mary?"

Chuckling, Moriarty took hold of her wrists and secured them above her head. "Mary? Oh she's useless. I just took her for a bit of fun. However, when I no longer need her, I'll either give her back...or...not."

"You can't keep killing innocent people. What do you even want? What's the point!?" Hermione's voice was raising, a fact that she knew would only get her in trouble right now. Unfortunately, she had no other means of protecting herself.

"I suggest you lower your voice or I might lose my own temper."

That made her stop talking for a moment and process. It was one thing to be up against a wizard unarmed, but being up against someone such as Moriarty, Hermione was scared. Swallowing, she quietly said, "You're not going to get away with this. We're going to get you in the end."

"I do like to think I'll be a bit more difficult to destroy than Tom Riddle turned out to be," Moriarty replied, his teeth glinting in the darkness.

"I doubt that. We had to destroy horcruxes to bring him to his end. But you, you're human. You're regular and boring and we can-"

"SHUT UP!" Moriarty screamed in her face, once again covering her mouth with his hand. He was much stronger than he looked, and he proved that now as he smothered her with his mere fingers.

Whimpering, Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes and, suddenly, her fight with Sherlock didn't seem so important. She was going to die and he was going to find her… Oh… this would surely break him. She wouldn't plead for her life, no. She most certainly wouldn't do that. But before the life could be sucked from her body, Moriarty released his hold on her face and quickly withdrew from the bed.

Gasping and choking for air, Hermione curled onto her side. Her vision was fuzzy and she was sobbing uncontrollably. Moriarty took no mercy, his hand twisting into her curls and pulling her face close to his once more. She cried out in pain, feeling a few strands as they were torn from her scalp. She held back her pleas for him to spare her, choosing instead to stare daggers into his violent eyes.

"I suggest you shut that pretty little mouth of yours, Ms. Granger," he said much more calmly, but she could hear the thinly veiled malice dripping from his every word. "If not, I will be forced to do something about it. And as for you stopping me? Not likely. I will bring you down. You and all the foul creatures just like you. Just you wait. The whole world will see exactly how repulsive you truly are."

And then he threw her backward, her body tumbling over the edge of the bed. She hit floor hard, the breath nearly knocked out of her as she landed. By the time she'd righted herself, Moriarty was gone, leaving no indication that he'd been there besides the tears running down her cheeks and the bruises around her mouth. Crouching on the floor, Hermione grabbed for her mobile on the bed, quickly swiping the screen to life and dialing Sherlock's number.

He answered on the first ring and her heart soared with relief. "What's happened?" he asked without preamble, his tone indicating he knew she would not be calling him unless it was important.

"Moriarty- He…" She didn't really get a chance to finish before a fresh wave of terrified tears began to cascade from her eyes. She was sitting on the floor now, one hand holding the phone to her ear while the other held her face in its palm.

"Hermione- Love, calm down. I am on my way. Don't move."

He hung up then, leaving her in silence. Hermione nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her and then discarded the mobile in her lap. Inching backward, she pressed her back against the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs. Trying to stem the flow of tears, Hermione hated herself in this moment. This wasn't who she was. She was supposed to be a fighter… A heroine…

Only, when Moriarty was poised over her on the bed, the entire situation had taken her back to many years ago when Bellatrix had been the one threatening her. Biting back another whimper, Hermione settled her face on her knees and waited for Sherlock to come back home…

. . . .

At first, Sherlock had no idea where she was when he entered the flat. But it didn't take him long, his ears singling out the sounds of her sniffling and leading him to where she was huddling in the bedroom. He dropped to his knees, eyes roaming over her body and looking for any harm that had been done. When he went to take hold of her chin, she flinched away in pain and rage nearly burned him alive when he saw the bruises marring her mouth.

"What did he do to you," Sherlock hissed, his voice so low and full of fury that it sent shivers down Hermione's spine. When it was obvious Hermione could not respond, Sherlock merely sat down on the floor and allowed her to curl into his chest. She was shivering so he wrapped the open flaps of his long coat around her and held her steady.

In all honesty, he didn't truly need her to explain what happened. It was plain that while she'd not been sexually violated, Moriarty had forced himself upon her to frighten her. Sherlock thought he'd been angry when John was strapped up in that bomb. Well, it was nothing compared to the fury he felt now. Another cursory glance at Hermione and he was able to see that aside from the bruising and the obvious fright from the ordeal, she was otherwise unharmed.

He'd already phoned Lestrade and sent a text to Potter, so that was taken care of. Now he just needed to get Hermione calm enough so she could rationally share what fully transpired between her and Moriarty. Without that data, he would be unable to discern Moriarty's true intentions for coming into his flat and touching what was his. Aside from being a proper dick, that is.

"Hermione," Sherlock spoke softly some time later, brushing her curls from her damp face so he could see her better. She glanced up at him with red-rimmed eyes, but she was no longer openly crying. "Can you tell me why he was here? What did he say?"

Taking a shaky breath, Hermione grabbed hold of his shirt and clutched the fabric in her palm. "Sherlock… Moriarty… He's going to expose us to the world. He wants to start a war between the Muggles and the Magic folk." Even as the words left her, Hermione could scarcely believe it herself.

"How? You've been hidden for centuries." Sherlock's brain was working quickly, trying to calculate the motive behind such a plan.

"I think he has something big planned, and I'm afraid that Mary may be the key to solving the entire thing."

Hermione's big, brown eyes met his and Sherlock felt his heart sink as pieces slowly fell into place. Carefully, so as not to startle her, Sherlock pulled Hermione and himself into a standing position. He did not let go over her, however, afraid that she might topple over in her distraught state. Going over the facts in his head quickly, Sherlock calculated what he needed in order to solve the case.

"I've figured out the pattern from the locations of Moriarty's victims."

Her face paled and she clutched harder at his shirt. "What is it, Sherlock? What's the pattern!"

"It's an arrow, and I believe we will find Mary where it is pointing," he explained, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet his lips. His breathing was even despite the cacophony of emotions raging through him at finally solving part of the case.

Hermione swallowed back her fear, trying to be brave. "Where is the arrow pointing?" she asked, already knowing she wasn't going to like the answer. As Sherlock's sea-colored eyes met hers, she felt her stomach clench in terror. When he spoke, his words were spoken softly, and Hermione felt her whole world begin to crumble.

"Diagon Alley. We will find her at the entrance to Diagon Alley."