Authors Note

Blah Blah Blah I don't own the Sherlock and Harry Potter franchise

Chapter 13: Christmas at the Holmes

Hermione POV

Before I could even enter the house I could hear the shouts coming from it, and at once I knew it was between Sherlock and his mother.

"How could you let that bloody person in and not tell me?" He was screaming on the top of his lungs now, and he sounded madder than I had ever heard him before. He was madder than his black moods, madder than when his experiments had failed, and even madder than when I had bailed him and came back from the Halloween party.

I knocked on the door in which a very surprised Mrs. Holmes and very angry Sherlock greeted me. "Oh who is it now, Aunt Gertrude? Might as well invite the whole parade of idiots in our family!"

"Sherlock it's Hermione for goodness sakes!" She then turned to look at me apologetically. "Hello Hermione, sorry Sherlock is just being so impetuously rude, he's in one of his moods ag-"

"It's not just a mood! It's an unusual breakage of privacy!" He yelled back. He then quickly came the door and promptly grabbed my hand, dragging me to his room, for a quick second a caught a glance of a young teenager in the living room but I barely had time to look before I was already in his room, with Sherlock slamming the door much to his mother's protests.

"Who are you talking about?" I asked after a while.

"Only the stupidest git in the planet, showing his face and having the nerve not only go into my room but also clean it! He has OCD I tell you, always needing things to be neat and organised, otherwise always throwing a fit about it!" I looked around and did notice then that his room in fact was clean. There were no clothes or books strewn across the floor, all the books in his shelf were neatly put, and in fact every book in his room was put neatly, each on corners of the desk neatly in piles. His clothes all were tucked away or put out of sight, and there was actually a place to sit on his bed. Even his bed had been made, the corners of it being neat and crisp and the pillow being exactly aligned in the then the door opened and a tall, young, teenage boy, (no older than fourteen) stood in the doorway.

Already I could feel the tension in the air between the two of them, and I could feel the hate that Sherlock was emanating from him just standing in his presence. The air felt so thick full of it that I could almost see it and cut with a knife. The teenager that stood before us was tall and lanky like Sherlock, though he seemed more proportioned more or less. He also had the trademark sharp nose and his eyes like Sherlock were piercing blue, but they weren't as observatory; though they seemed still very logical and analytical, but they also seemed more calcuolatory. He wore a rather nice shirt and vest; and his hair was well combed unlike Sherlock's wild mess of hair. He seemed in fact almost the exact opposite in appearance to him when it came to those things. Maybe though it was from a boarding school though, because on the corner of his vest was a prefect badge, though I didn't recognised the school. The emblem behind it was a raven, and it was coloured dark blue.

"So Sherlock, I see they made you get rid of that dreadful lock on the door." He said, and looked around the room in distaste as Sherlock had already messed up the majority of the book piles.

"Mycroft, how has school life been treating you?" he said through gritted teeth.

I had to hide back my shock, so this was the infamous Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock had mentioned his older brother a couple times, well when I mean mentioned I mean when I had asked and was usually followed by a smart remark to it. I was a bit shocked though that this was actually him, I expected him to be much more sinister looking, more evil perhaps, or at least less ordinary looking. I guess I shouldn't have been though considering all the photos of him when he was younger on the mantle.

"Care to explain your friend here?" He asked and I felt there was an underlying message from his tone. Sherlock seemed to have understood the message and only scowled even more. They both eyed each other, Sherlock scowling with anger and Mycroft himself giving a reproachful look.

"Hermione Granger." I said, interrupting the stare off and I put out my hand, he didn't take it though. Rather he seemed much more interested in the concept of me being here, or rather the concept of me being in Sherlock's room. He studied me for a while, staring me down, I wondered if he could do what Sherlock could do, it felt like he could. I hated the feeling though when he stared at me, it made me feel transparent vulnerable. It seemed almost as if I was a puzzle he was trying to take apart piece by piece to dissect and observe every aspect of me, a chill went up my spine.

After a long while he finally spoke. "Well Hermione, I welcome you with a warm welcome. Are you staying for dinner?" Before I could answer though he lefted rather nonchalantly, leaving a still furious Sherlock.

"Well he's quite the charmer." I said.

"You have no idea." He replied.

XXX

I called my parents and told them I would be spending my Christmas Eve with the Holmes, much to their disappointment to say the least. I finally convinced them though after though after I promised I would spend the rest of the holiday with them if I could stay the night and morning of Christmas with the Holmes.

The dinner was delicious, and rather a feast. Roasted honey glazed ham, steaming bread rolls, overflowing bowls of sides like hot mashed potatoes and sweet corn lined the dinner table. It was one of the most delicious dinners I had ever had in my life, and I mentioned that to Mrs. Holmes numerous times, blushing as she apparently never had that many guests to cook for.

The dinner environment though was a different story. Everyone was awkward and quiet, Mr Holmes was quiet and off put (he never really talked that much anyways) Mrs. Holmes was looking both nervously at Sherlock and Mycroft, waiting for one to explode (mainly eyeing Sherlock), and Sherlock and Mycroft were shooting daggers at each other in the eyes with their glares. They were put on opposite sides of the tables to prevent conflict but I think it only made it worst. I sat nervously, watching both of them.

"So Hermione how do you know Sherlock?" He said, almost spitting Sherlock's name as if it was an insult.

"We're just school mates." Sherlock said, before I could say anything otherwise.

"Ah yes, school mates." Mycroft said bitterly.

"As if you would know since you have none." Sherlock added with defiance.

"Believe or not, dear brother, I'm actually quite popular, even being a prefect." He said.

"Of course you are." Sherlock said bitterly and I knew there was more bitterness behind those words than that meets the eye. There seemed to be an unresolved rivalry between them, an angerness built up over years of just anger and jealousy for the other (more of which came from Sherlock). I didn't say anything about it then though, I would ask Sherlock later. For then I stayed quiet as they both exchanged daggers again over the table.

XXX

Sherlock's mood didn't get any better over the night, he was still happy to seem me though I suppose. He didn't say much through throughout the night, he stayed in his room a lot just glued onto his computer. Mrs. Holmes was really kind though, she even gave us a tray of hot chocolate and warm cookies to snack on later in the night.

I slipped into the living room to return the tray, Mycroft was there sitting by the fireplace reading a book. I didn't recognise the odd title though, "Tales of Unusual Beasts". It was strange for him to be reading that, if he was anything like Sherlock he would have never even picked up the book. They really then must be opposites, which would explain Sherlock's distaste for him. He then looked up from the book, seeing me.

"Ah, Hermione." He said, tucking the book away.

"Good evening." I said, still holding the tray.

"Yes, so you are Sherlock's so called 'school mates'." He said laughing at this, though it seemed a bit forced and hollow.

"So tell me Hermione, how did you go on and meet Sherlock?" he asked.

I thought carefully before answering. "We're just in the same class and had projects together."

"And so what do you think of him?"

"Why do you want to know?" He then chuckled.

"So my brother has then warned of me, I don't mean to do any harm, I'm simply just curious."

"Well, Sherlock is a bit of a git but he's nice enough too. Also he's extremely brilliant, though he can be an absolute idiot at times." I admitted.

Mycroft laughed at this even more. "That I can agree on."

"Why do you want to know?" I asked.

"Hermione, what did you notice when you first notice about Sherlock when you first met? You seem bright and observant enough, you have to be in order to keep up with him, so tell me, what did you really notice about him?"

I thought back to this. "He was rather quiet I suppose, her certainly wasn't trying to talk to anyone. That wasn't to say he was in his own world completely though, he was very observant that day and scanning everything and everyone that entered."

"Did you notice how he was alone too?"

"Alone?"

"You must understand, Sherlock is a very unique case. He has the mindset of a genius in certain aspects but still on things such as sentiment and emotions he is lacking greatly. Neither of us truly have ever thrived in that, and he truly never has had a friend. I mean sure, he has had that neighbour John but no one truly understands him, it's a lonely path he walked."

I then think really back to that first day of school, I just thought that he was avoiding everyone but then I realised to an extent everyone was avoiding him too, as if he had some disease that was contagious or something. It was if he purposely tried to section himself off from the world, he was afraid of being hurt, he was afraid of being broken.

"And then you enter the picture. You're the first person that Sherlock has let into his room, he even won't let his own family in. I've also heard from Mother he seems to be less moody and even acting more 'normal'. You are in a sense, a miracle for him."

"Why are you telling this?"

"Well I do have to look out for my brother. You see my brother and I never really have gotten a long, partly due to our age gap and partly due to personalities." He then sipped his tea.

"I will even admit I have been a terrible brother to him and perhaps it has taken a toll on him. Still I do care for him to some degree and I don't want his mind going to waste. So I do need you to promise something to me."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I need you to promise you won't break Sherlock, or really hurt him in any way."

"Sherlock never has really had a connection like this, or at least none that I'm aware of. The pain you can strike on him would hurt deeply for him, and I fear the consequences if you ever did so; or I fear what would become of him. So do you promise?"

"I promise, sir." He then half smiled in relief.

"Well that's set then, please don't tell him that I told you this though, after all it is Christmas eve. It was a pleasure to meet you, Hermione Granger."

XXX

"What took you so long?" Sherlock asked, a half annoyed look on his face.

"I was just returning the tray, besides I didn't think you would actually notice if I was gone for a couple minutes." I said, a bit miffed.

"Of course I would notice, why wouldn't I?" I resisted the urge to point out he hadn't really paid attention to me all night, being on that stupid computer of his, only not saying it because I knew he probably already had an excuse for it.

"You were talking to the git? Weren't you?" He said. To this I made no reply but he could read my eyes well enough.

"It's not a big deal, we were just making idle chat." I said.

"My brother doesn't do idle chat." Sherlock said bitterly, and I knew there was an undertone to those words.

"Well what have you been working on anyways?" I asked trying to change the subject and mood, getting only a peek over his shoulder at his computer. I only then caught the title of a document, which was "Hermione".

He then exited the page before I could look any further and I couldn't help but laugh at his expression. His face had turned cherry red.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing" I said, but I could tell he was getting mad.

"Why was that document titled with my name?" I asked but he said nothing, only muttering under his breath how much of a big git I was.

Author's Note

So in case you didn't figure out the 'boarding school' Mycroft attends is of course Hogwarts. I know Mycroft seems out of character, but I personally always thought that 'tough' part that he shows in show is more an illusion, and especially now in the new season I think we'll see the more vulnerable parts of Mycroft (and maybe even Sherlock) of course there is the underlying tensions still between the both of them. I don't think they really were ever particularly close, mainly of age gap (just because of personality and seven years!) still though I think Mycroft does care for him, much to Sherlock's dislike. On a side note though I was considering doing a chapter for Charlotte's part of view. Please comment if you would like a chapter on her point of view. Anyways thank you for all who read it and please review and comment! :)