A/N: So sorry for the delay. It's been a long week, but I finally got something!

Sherlock staggered as we landed behind the Leaky Cauldron, nearly pulling me down with him. As it was, it was only a silent Cushioning Charm that kept him from breaking his nose on the pavement. I grabbed Sherlock by the forearm and hauled him up.

"Are you okay?"

Sherlock brushed the dust off his coat and snorted indignantly. "What, may I ask, was that?"

"Apparition." I straightened Sherlock's collar, trying to ignore the shiver that went up my spine as a finger brushed his jaw. "We disappeared and reappeared in another place."

"Yes, I got that." He turned in a circle, nearly a pirouette really, and surveyed the small space we were standing in. "This is the entrance we passed through on our way out."

"Um, yeah." I was still completely thrown by the Memory Charm not working. I'd never heard of something like that before. "So you remember this too?"

"Mhm." He was amused now. So glad I entertained him…

"How much do you remember?"

"Everything. It was a bit fuzzy at first, but the memories came through in the end."

I nodded. "How do we get out of here?" Sherlock asked.

"I have to use my wand on the wall." I tapped the correct brick, and a moment later, they shifted aside to form an archway. "Welcome back to Diagon Alley."

Sherlock walked through the archway, he eyes darting from shop to shop, person to person.

"Where do we start?" I asked as I joined him, the bricks behind me shifting back to their original state.

"Is there a place where less savory types congregate." I sighed. Straight to the point.

"Yeah, Knockturn Alley. It's where," I paused, trying to find the best way to phrase it.

"Spit it out, John," Sherlock said impatiently.

"You see a lot of supplies for the Dark Arts there. It isn't as bad as it used to be, but there's still a lot of black market trade going on over there."

"Lead the way." Yeah, just lead the way into one of the places that dark wizards are known to congregate with absolutely no consideration for the appearance that would give.

"Fine, but be subtle." I started off in the direction of Knockturn Alley, trying to look like I wasn't doing anything suspicious.

'Really, John?" Sherlock said, his mouth right next to my ear. I shivered again. He took my hand and kept pace next to me as we continued on.

His fingers were long and strong, I thought as he gripped my hand. The callouses on his fingertips scratched at my hand a little, but it didn't hurt. It was kind of reassuring, letting me know who it was who held my hands as I walked.

There was just one turn to the left, and, fortunately, there weren't a lot of people around. "Sherlock," I hissed as we slipped around the corner, "you've got to try not to look like a Muggle. The people here are a lot less...open-minded."

Sherlock nodded and dropped my hand. I tried not to mourn the loss of the contact, but I really wasn't successful. "Now what?" I asked.

"Not sure," he replied before taking off ahead of me. I groaned as I quickened my pace to follow him. He darted from window to window, glancing through looking for God knows what. Finally, he stopped in front of one shops several yards ahead of me and began to speak to the woman standing in the doorway.

As I joined Sherlock on the bottom step of the entrance, the woman, an extremely old lady in dark robes with a tray of what looked like fingernails, abruptly stopped speaking.

"It's fine," Sherlock reassured her. "He's with me. What were you saying about the girl?"

The woman looked uncertain, but she continued speaking. "A young thing, she was," the woman croaked. "She passed through here, spoke to me for a moment, and left."

"And that's all?" Sherlock probed?

"Aye. That's all." Sherlock turned on his heel and started walking back in the direction of Diagon Alley.

I nodded hesitantly to the woman before turning to follow Sherlock. I didn't dare call his name while I was still in Knockturn Alley. It wasn't the place to draw attention to yourself.

"Sherlock!" I called when I finally turned the corner. He was leaning against a wall apparently waiting for me.

"The girl talked to that woman at length shortly before she was killed," he said without preamble. "She was lying; she knew exactly what Zariel was up to."

"And how do you know that?" I was half-way between impressed and irritated.

"Easy," Sherlock said with a smug grin. It was a good look on him. "The flower on that tray; it was a Gloriosa. There was too much pollen on her for her to have just passed the florist; however, the woman bought that flower across the street."

"Some people think you can use them in potions. It's all experimental though, and it's hard to find them in the wizard shops."

"How did you know she was lying about talking to Zariel."

"Her posture shifted into a more defensive pose. She was also attempting to make the conversation end. Both are signs that a person is uncomfortable with a conversation. Add to that the fact that she was contradicted herself. At the beginning of the conversation, she knew who Zariel was without me having to clarify. Later, after you joined us, she started referring to her as the girl. She obviously has something to hide."

"D'you think she killed Zariel?" She looked harmless, but you could never be too sure in the wizarding world. The elderly had experience, even if they didn't always have the strength to cast a spell.

"No. Her reaction was all wrong. If she was the killer, she'd have been much more careful." Sherlock pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket. "This letter, however, may be more telling."

He handed me the parchment, and I unrolled it.

"Don't share what you know, or the same may happen to you. -Mara"

"So whoever killed Zariel is threatening the woman now?" I asked.

"Exactly." Sherlock pushed off the wall and started walking back toward the Leaky Cauldron. Apparently we were finished. I glanced over at Gringotts. There was a security goblin standing at the door. I glanced back at Sherlock. He was looking at it, but he was refraining from asking questions. Still trying to fit in then. He was going to bombard me with questions when we got back to the flat later…

Suddenly, I banged into something solid. "What's the-" I started.

"Do watch where you're going, John," Sherlock said. He had frozen in the middle of the street, his gaze fastened onto one of the storefronts. Ah, Madam Malkin's.

"Those are wizard clothes?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh no," I knew exactly where this was going. "I'm not getting you a set of robes."

"But why not John?" he said, practically pleading.

"For one, you don't need them. Second, you'd just use them to sneak in here. Third, because I don't have enough money for a set right now."

Sherlock didn't say anything, but I had a feeling that next time (and there was going to be a next time. I just knew it) I'd be getting him measured for a set of robes.

"Look," I said, thinking quickly, "We'll go into the Apothecary. It's where you buy potion ingredients."

The petulant expression on his face left. "Very well."

"C'mon. It's right next to the Leaky Cauldron."

We picked our way through the growing crowd on our way to the Apothecary. At least he didn't see Ollivander's, I thought wryly. He'd probably be in there trying to get a wand to work for him.

As I walked in, I noticed that the smell was worse than I remembered. Sherlock was in a corner examining the contents of several barrels.

"John," he called, looking up toward the ceiling at a bundle of clearly labeled silver hairs, "is there really such a thing as a unicorn?"

"Yeah," I murmured. "We use the hair and horn in potions."

I leaned against the counter as Sherlock continued to examine the various potion ingredients.

"Is he a Muggle?" asked the woman behind the counter.

"Er, yeah." Remember the cover, I told myself. "My partner."

"Ah," the woman said, looking relieved. "First time in a wizard shop I take it?"

"Yeah," I laughed. "He's really curious."

"I can tell," she said vaguely before going back to her ledger. I kept an eye on Sherlock as I browsed the ingredients around me. Things had gotten a bit pricey since I'd left.

There was a faint tinkle of the bell as another customer came in the door. I looked up, and I felt dread well up in my stomach. It was Mrs. Hudson. I'd forgotten to tell her that Sherlock knew.

Unfortunately, Sherlock looked up when I did and saw Mrs. Hudson enter. There was no opportunity for me to try to head her off.

"Mrs. Hudson, hello" Sherlock said.

"Ah, Sherlock, dear." she said. She didn't seem the slightest bit surprised. "How are you? And John," she said turning her attention to me. "I trust you didn't have any problems with this one?"

"Er, no," I said. That was an unexpected turn.

"Good, good. I just needed to pick up a few supplies. I have a Replenishing Potion brewing, and I ran out of a few things."

Sherlock had that gleam in his eyes. Time to go. "Let's go, Sherlock," I said as I grabbed his hand. "We'll see you later, Mrs. Hudson."

She waved goodbye as I pulled Sherlock out of the shop. Sherlock wasn't protesting, which I was taking as a good sign.

"So, I didn't think we'd run into her." I said, rubbing my free hand over the back of my neck. "I totally forgot about it honestly."

"It only makes sense, John. There's a disturbing lack of dust in her flat. And anyway, you'd have to have her cooperation to use the basement flat for your things. There were far too many books for them to all belong to you. There were duplicates."

I nodded. "Ready to go?" He nodded, and I tightened my grip on his hand. As I turned on the spot, he tightened his grip on my hand, and for one moment, I felt that we were truly together.