Title: Name Confused
Author: enchanted nightingale
Beta Reader: pussycatadamah
Summary: What if Mycroft's name confused assistant was male? Harry Potter tries to shed his name and his past, taking a rare offer of anonymity while still getting to play the hero.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Sherlock, nor the characters from them and I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
10. Near Miss
They had been leaving Downing Street with the car. Neither of them had been paying any attention to the road as they were both busy making phone calls. Mycroft especially was quite agitated. As much as he dealt with politics, dealing with politicians always left him feeling irritated. His wizard bodyguard and assistant was multitasking again, doing all that he could to save Mycroft time while working from his phone and that was what saved them, his skills. He had been about to turn to Mycroft, giving him a run down of what he had done when he caught sight of it, a glow. Trained to spot a Snitch had been ingrained into him and after so long he had an eye for spotting the winged balls. This now extended for red beams from rifles and spotting things that should not be there, like the errant sniper aiming to kill; his wizard talent reacted fast, using skills and muscles and speed and tackled Mycroft easily to the ground just as an array of bullets pelted the spot they had previously been standing at.
Mycroft was shocked at the sound of gunfire and turned to his assistant and bodyguard with inquiries on his face.
"Peter..."
"The building across from us," the wizard replied. "Three hundred yards, up on the twentieth floor, I see him."
Then another rapid sound came and Mycroft was pushed to the ground, his body easily covered by the muscled frame of his green eyed assistant. He felt like a century had passed during which time he could do nothing but wait for the firing to be over and done with, then he would act, he privately vowed to himself and heads would roll. The man who was the British Government absently noticed that his protector jerked at some point and he felt warmth, external warmth. His brilliant mind connected the clues immediately, realising the warmth was blood and the jerk was because the wizard had been shot. He tried to turn, tried to speak, but the wizard, Peter for the day, shushed him.
"I'm fine, keep still," the green eyed man ordered in a calm voice. "They have one more round."
Mycroft looked around and noticed with a sense of detached horror that the usual driver he employed was lying a few feet away in a pool of blood. That several more people were laid out on the street, unmoving. True to the wizard's prediction, another round of fire happened then and nothing. It was the calm before the panic set in and the people all around started screaming and yelling. Sirens from police cars and ambulances filled the air.