I suppose at this point in time, I should be slamming on my caps lock and begging for your forgiveness while giving numerous excuses as to why I have not updated in months. Well, you'll still get the excuses, but the begging would probably take up even more space in what is probably going to be a very rambly intro bit. Yes, for those of you who saw the chapter update and thought, "ZOMG LONG CHAPTER YUSSSS" as I'm sure many of you did, you will find that a lot of the characters will go into this vent-spree. So feel free to scroll down, I promise I won't hold it against you.

One of the main reasons this chapter took so long, was my own cowardice. I would have stretches of free time, where I would sit down and think 'hey, how about I write that chapter now!' - but then I'd start thinking about what the chapter would entail and I'd get scared shitless of doing it wrong. Think about it; a dialogue between Sherlock and Mycroft, skirting the issue of magic. How the hell would you go about that? I realize I over-thought this, but seriously. You have the combative dynamic between Sherlock and Mycroft, Mycroft's secretive governmentness, Harry's secretive Wizardingness, Sherlock's intrusive curiosity, and everyone trying to second-guess each other. Add in trying to think like a thirteen-year-old and a conniving politician at the same time...Ugh. Headaches. Several of them. And then there was the manner of speech itself to consider. Trying to write a believable Mycroft is infuriating! I love him, but as far as writing goes, I wish he'd just die. He's so difficult all the time! I'd get a few lines down, then think that there was no way Mycroft would ever say that. It's one of my biggest OCD pet peeves. Don't you hate it when you read a fic and and the characters don't speak like they should? I mean, I don't mind OOCness, but there is a line. Fics where an eleven-year-old Harry is spouting ideals and speeches with a vocabulary that would rival a Literature Major (not that I'm pointing fingers at the degree – take one guess as to what some of my classes were) or where characters such as Professors McGonagall and Snape say things like 'what's up' absolutely infuriate me. McGonagall would say "Mr. Potter, are you quite well?" as opposed to "Harry, are you OK?". So yeah, evidence to me overthinking things, and hence the pit I dug myself when writing Mycroft.

There was a bunch of other things as well... school, work, family stuff that was mildly depressing, as well as a generous coating of apathy. But we got here in the end. Just don't hold your breath on a fast updating story – it comes and goes in waves :)

General Disclaimers: I am not secretly JK Rowling, nor am I Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, despite your suspicions. I own nothing whatsoever to do with the characters that I am forcing to dance to my whims.

Warnings: Over-thought dialogue, Holmes brothers that I'm not quite satisfied with, and probably some plot holes that you will have to suspend critical thinking for and just go along with.

Ch 10

Sirius stared at the newcomer, tense and wary. The look he was giving Harry was far too calculating, far too knowing, and that put Sirius on his guard. But he wondered how much this muggle – for he had absolutely no scent of magic about him – knew about Harry. Did the muggle government know something about him? Did they know about the Dursleys? The thought made him snarl; if the muggles had had a hand in Harry's placement with Lily's sister, he just may have to fulfill the muggle portion of his sentence, after he had found the rat, of course.

He shifted so that he was as close as possible to Harry, but still able to spring into action if necessary. The man spoke, addressing Harry with his unwavering, cool gaze.

"Tell me, Harry, how long have you had that distinctive scar?"

Both Sirius and Harry's eyes widened in alarm – did this man know? How? He was a muggle – there was no way he should know about the wizarding world – and if he did, someone was in a load of trouble.

Harry was obviously very tense, and he cautiously questioned the man in return.

"I'm sorry, but who are you, sir? And why are you interested?" he asked in a soft voice.

Sherlock's eyes gleamed, obviously pleased with Harry's line of questioning, even if it was a bit blunt.

The man blinked, before pasting a thin-lipped smile onto his face.

"Forgive me, I was evidently a bit forward. My name is Mycroft Holmes. I am interested because my somewhat reckless little brother has been known to get caught up in rather classified situations, and I fear that this may be one of those times," the man, now identified as Sherlock's older brother, informed Harry, and by extension Sirius, in clipped tones.

Sherlock grinned at that, almost squirming in anticipation.

"How is it that you know Harry? We only just met him last night, and we haven't even been told his last name! Now, dearest brother, can you possibly elucidate the situation for us? It is quite interesting." He finished speaking with a leer. Dear Merlin the man was practically salivating over the tense atmosphere – any second now, someone was going to give and the rush of information would be positively heady to the walking brain that was Sherlock.

Mycroft gave his younger brother a considering look. His gaze shifted to Harry, and Sirius, bound in canine silence, felt an impending change approaching. Mycroft knew something – what, he wasn't sure, but it would most certainly affect Harry in some way or another.

"Mr. Potter," Mycroft said suddenly, addressing Harry in a direct and calculating manner. Harry started, as did Sirius, and Sherlock and John looked taken aback before they realized that Mycroft was still speaking to Harry. Harry, who as yet had not revealed his surname to anyone in the flat.

This is it, Sirius thought, Mycroft knows about Harry Potter. A muggle knows. Who the hell is this guy?

"Mr. Potter, I have several questions for you, but before I ask, I must know how long you will be remaining in the care of my erstwhile brother. I'm sure you do not wish for your circumstances to be revealed to uninvolved civilians, although..." he trailed off, his face adopting a mild look of contempt, "I'm sure the knowledge could be, ah, reclassified by certain mutual acquaintances of ours."

Sirius glanced at Harry, who looked shocked, and mildly confused – most probably at some of the vocabulary Mycroft Holmes was employing. Honestly, he was talking to someone who was not even thirteen! However, he was sure Harry understood one thing; Mycroft Holmes knew about Harry, and by extension, the wizarding world.

Sherlock looked extremely indignant at the prospect of being left out of this new case, but before he could start ranting, John addressed both Harry and Mycroft.

"Harry can stay with us as long as he needs. We're well equipped to deal with whatever is going on discretely, and probably with less observation that a government official would receive," he claimed, with a pointed glance towards Mycroft.

The man fixed his cuffs as he thought, evidently weighing pros and cons in his mind. As far as Sirius knew, the muggle government had no real knowledge of magic. The Prime Minister and the Monarch were aware of it, so he supposed that this man was a very important government official, or married to a witch, or something. His speculation ended as Mycroft apparently reached a decision.

"As long as we are permitted to, we will have Harry Potter in your care, gentlemen. I believe that that is the most viable option available at this time," Mycroft stated, sniffing at some perceived annoyance.

John blinked, and even Sherlock looked mildly taken aback.

"Just like that?" John asked. "No questions, no manipulations, no threats to one's livelihood? Mycroft, are you feeling quite well?"

"I assure you, Dr. Watson, I have thought this course of action through quite thoroughly," Mycroft said condescendingly.

There was a skeptical silence where Sherlock's eyes glittered while Harry's clouded with apprehension before John burst out, "But we're not even in an abandoned warehouse! This feels so – so – wrong!"

Sirius couldn't help but stare at the group. He was pretty sure that abandoned warehouses were not the typical place one decided child placement, unless it involved hostages and other things he'd rather not think about. Just who were these muggles? His speculations were interrupted by Mycroft addressing Harry.

"Mr. Potter, may I assume that you do not wish to return to your, ah, place of residence?" he inquired.

Harry blinked, and shrugged warily.

"It's not that I really want to, sir, it's just, I think I sort of have to be there, at least in the summer," he explained confusedly.

Mycroft scoffed lightly, while John and Sherlock looked irritated.

"Mr. Potter, allow me to clarify some items of interest. When your parents died, there was a minor time of bureaucratic shuffling, as we were dealing with a tragic gas leak that occurred the day after their deaths. Thus it was that when the governmental agency concerned with the welfare of an orphan such as yourself went to assess your situation on the first of November, they discovered that you were nowhere to be found. Any searches made into your affairs resulted in vague details such as 'witness protection' and 'parents' wishes'. However, not one branch of our British Ministry knew your location. Any who inquired were assured that you were safe in Britain, but a Harry Potter was nowhere to be found," he paused as Harry began to look extremely confused.

"Sir," he began hesitantly, "are you sure your search systems are alright? I grew up in Surrey, I went to school and everything! And I lived with -" he broke off, looking at the adults fearfully. "I lived with my... guardians."

Mycroft did not look confused; he appeared as though some suspicion of his had been confirmed, and was radiating a quiet smugness.

"Surrey? I see Sherlock's little deductions were correct, were they not? As ever. Incidentally, Harry, it is impossible for you to have been with your legal guardian, as it appears he has been incarcerated for the past twelve years."

Padfoot's whine was drowned out by Harry's articulate "Wha?"

Sherlock's gaze narrowed, and he crisply asked, "has been? Mycroft, if the man has been released I don't see why this guardianship is in any question. Harry should, by law, be with his legal guardian, correct?" His chin lifted, almost daring Mycroft to impart more information.

This Mycroft did, blandly stating, "he has recently broken out of a high security penitentiary. It was claimed that he murdered several citizens in circumstances connected with the Potters' deaths."

While Harry reeled with shock that the one person he might actually belong to may be even worse than the Dursleys, Sherlock lunged after the tantalizing bait Mycroft had strung in front of him. He was beginning to be very glad that he had opened the door for Harry – life was so interesting at the moment.

"You seem unsure as to his crimes, Mycroft. What has the man done? And where has he escaped from?" the younger brother demanded of the older.

A line drew itself between Mycroft's eyebrows, and he glanced again at Harry before addressing Sherlock's question.

"The man, one Sirius Black, was held in a highly confidential facility. As to his crimes, I have been unable to unearth transcripts of a trial, and so I cannot say with certainty what exactly it is that he has done. I have been assured that he is quite mad, highly dangerous. However, due to several ... circumstances, information regarding him is extremely classified, and there is no knowledge on his likely escape routes or long-term goals. It has been suggested," and here Mycrof looked significantly at Harry, "that he will be searching for the last of the family he was supposedly incarcerated for betraying."

Harry's breath caught, and Padfoot whined. It hurt, even without the details. How, Sirius wailed internally, could anyone believe that he would give up Lily and James? And little Harry? Razor blades tore into his heart as he saw the scared and closed-off expression on Harry's face, knowing that it was his fault that it was there.

00ooo000ooo000

The new man unsettled Harry. He seemed to know far too much. He wasn't a wizard; of that he was fairly sure. So what did it mean? How many muggles knew about him? About wizards? Wasn't there that International Statute of Secrecy or something? His thoughts whirled in his head, as Sherlock's voice cut across the room.

"Mycroft, are you suggesting that there is something kept classified from yourself? Is that even possible?" Sherlock's voice was pitched differently; it had taken on a tone of confusion and incredulity that it was unaccustomed to.

Mycroft ignored his brother, and looked to Harry.

"Well Mr. Potter? I'm sure you have, ah, alternative avenues, but if you wish to remain here, I assure you partial disclosure will not ... get you into 'trouble', as it were. Other locales you might search out could be said to be ... predictable?" Mycroft said delicately.

Harry thought about it. If he did have a deranged murderer after him, who was a wizard, then perhaps he should stay clear of the magical world until he was under the protection of Hogwarts. Diagon Alley was not the most secure place, and it was well-known that he was friends with the Weasleys. He would hate to endanger them.

However these muggles seemed capable, and they were buried in the heart of London. What wizard – fresh out the mysterious wizard prison that Hagrid had so feared – would be able to track down a young boy in the heart of London?

Wistfulness answered for a great deal of Harry's rhetorical inquiry, and he found that he wanted to stay here, with the kind doctor, and the abrubt Sherlock, and his wonderful new dog, Wolfgang. Besides, he was still sure that he was in some sort of trouble over his accidental magic. How ironic; the escaped convict hunting down the one yet-to-be apprehended.

Harry drew in a quivering sigh, and gazed up at the men surrounding him. They did not frighten him, like his Uncle, or Professor Snape, or that man. He gave a tentative smile, and asked in a small voice,

"Would you mind it very much if I stayed?"

There you go! I know the chapter itself is a bit shorter than usual, but yeah...

Thank you so much for your continued support and reviews! I'll try not to leave you hanging for so long again - I know it's terribly annoying. If I could get some feedback, it would give me some ideas on how to spin the family situation, leading into the big reveal, so anything you have to say would be awesome.

Thanks for hanging in there!