Author's Note: I think the last chapter was the most reviews I've ever received on a single chapter of this story! Thank you so much! I'm glad that the cliffhanger delivered and I must apologize for the one on thsi chapter as well. However, only one more chapter after this and then we're done! Well, aside from a possible epilogue I may do... But that would happen this summer. Anyway, enjoy the climax of our tale and I look forward to your feedback!

Thank you to GaeilgeRua for beta reading as always! You're such a doll! 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.

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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*

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Chapter Fourteen

Pain was nothing new to Hermione. Neither was torture. That's how she knew she was going to make it through this. But, that didn't make it any easier…

Heart pounding, Hermione kept her eyes closed a moment longer after regaining consciousness. She knew where she was, of course; the familiar scents had signalled that the second she was aware once more. 221B Baker Street. Moriarty had returned her to Sherlock's flat for whatever plan he had concocted. Plan. A chill ran down her spine as she realized their plan had obviously gone horribly wrong.

The pain in her neck stung like that of a brand new bug bite. Obviously, he had drugged her; the groggy feeling lingering in her head and limbs. She pushed through the fog, knowing she needed a clear, level head for what was to come. Suddenly sensing Moriarty's presence, or rather, his unpredictable magical core, Hermione was aware she was no longer alone. She did not attempt to struggle at the bindings holding her to the chair, however. Instead, she remained with her eyes closed and her head bowed as if still unconscious.

"Come now, Ms. Granger. Do not insult me. You know I am aware that you have been awake for quite some time," Moriarty drawled. The soles of his expensive leather shoes barely made a sound on the floor as he approached.

Opening her eyes, Hermione blinked rapidly to clear her vision before focusing on the man before her. No, she thought. He was not just a man. He was a wizard. An uncontrollable one at that. She would need to be careful lest she wanted to die this night. Wetting her chapped lips with her tongue, she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled to calm herself.

"Moriarty," she said simply. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Not going to scream for help?" he asked by way of answer. "Mrs. Hudson is right downstairs."

"I'd rather not die tonight," she replied. "We both know if I even attempt to yell or call for help, you'll silence me in a second. It would be a waste of energy." She'd learned that the last time she'd been tortured.

"I'd rather not get my hands dirty." Moriarty took a measured step toward her bound form.

"I said nothing about using your hands," she said, earning herself a raised eyebrow.

"I take it you have discovered what I am." He stopped directly in front of her, his eyes peering down at her with so much hate that it made Hermione's skin crawl.

"You're a wizard," she told him, flinching when he lifted one hand as if to strike her across the face. He seemed to catch himself, though. He lowered his arm, allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm a monster," he hissed, obviously seething but in control of himself once more.

"No," Hermione countered, knowing she was treading extremely shallow water. "Your suppressed magic has formed an Obscurus. We can get you the help you need. We can separate the creature from you and then teach you how to control your magic." She was rambling, hoping to buy some time so she could be found by Sherlock or her other friends.

He scoffed at her, sliding both hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Your kind would not take kindly to me after all I have done," he said, each word dripping with disdain. "That's probably why my parents left me to rot in that orphanage."

"My kind is yours too, James," she said softly, switching to his first name. "You were denied the knowledge of your heritage, but after serving time for your crimes, we would accept you nonetheless." It may have been a bit of a lie, but she wasn't entirely off.

This time, her words were met with dark laughter. "Is that how Tom Riddle was treated? Murder multiple people and then everything would be fine given I serve my time?" He turned away from her, running hands through his hair in frustration.

"Tom Riddle-"

In an instant Moriarty had whirled back around and grabbed hold of the arms of the chair. Leveling his face with hers, he hissed, "Riddle killed just as I have and he was murdered by your kind."

"Are you going to kill me too?" Hermione whispered the question with fear, her eyes trained on his. They were dark, swirling with the madness of the Obscurus. There was a very real chance she was going to die tonight. Just as Mary, Dennis, and the others, she was going to die…

"You will not be the only one to die tonight," Moriarty revealed with a sneer. Standing at his full height, he glared down at her. "Sherlock will join you. Your deaths will start the war between both the Magical and Non Magical worlds."

As grief washed over her, Hermione recalled all the wonderful days and nights she and Sherlock spent together. Both in Diagon Alley and here at 221B. He didn't deserve to die and neither did she. They had no way of stopping Moriarty and his Obscurus at this point. Soon, Sherlock would figure out what happened and come looking for her here. Then they would both be defeated by the Obscurus and the war would begin. If only they had thought this through. Idiots… All of them, and now it was too late.

It took Sherlock far longer than it should have to figure out what had gone wrong. Mostly, this was due to the fact that he was a simple Muggle and had no idea about wards or anti-apparition spells. John did, oddly enough, and he had shown up about five minutes into Sherlock's frantic search of the empty street. He had one hell of a time deciphering why John was there in his panic, but yet he was.

The good doctor had appeared at the corner, his face full of grave resolution. He'd called out to Sherlock, who was in a right state as he tried to locate his missing lover. Pulling Sherlock down from a ledge where he had been trying to climb into a second-story window, John managed to explain all about the wards and how Harry and Draco could be anywhere right now. Molly had filled him in on the plan when she hadn't heard from anyone, specifically Draco. Calmly, John told Sherlock to think about where Moriarty might take Hermione and that's when it clicked.

Baker Street.

The bastard would take her to where she would normally feel safest only two sever that comfort entirely. Taking John's hand, he raced them back to the flat, too worried about Hermione to think of anything else. Oh how he regretted not telling her how he felt earlier. And for lashing out and suspecting she was in love with John. It all felt so trivial now that the risk of losing her was so high. He would fix this. They would get there in time to stop Moriarty and then all would be right in the world.

He couldn't live if it went any other way.

"So when Sherlock arrives, are you going to immediately kill us or does one of us have to watch the other die first?" Hermione hated that she even had to ask such a question, but her head was screaming at her to continue wasting time. Sherlock had yet to arrive, or any of her other friends for that matter. "You know, for dramatics?"

Moriarty chuckled, turning away from where he was staring out the window into the night beyond. He made no move toward her, but she could feel the hostility bubbling under the surface of his calm façade. Smirking he said, "We're not in a dramatic movie, darling. This is good ol' fashioned retribution. You and Sherlock? You're just the collateral damage."

"I would think someone like you wouldn't want to risk losing their chance at learning more about what they truly are." Clearly carefully veiled insults were not going to work so she was going to have to try another approach. "Don't you want to know what it's like to use magic?"

"I was able to create wards around the street earlier," Moriarty said with sweet satisfaction. He was obviously pleased with himself. "Blocked your two Wizarding buddies from hiding within safe distance of you."

Hermione swallowed back another round of terror. Where had Draco and Harry ended up? Moriarty's magic was volatile; his wards could have sent them anywhere. What if they were splinched? Or worse, dead. Closing her eyes, Hermione thought this night couldn't get any worse and yet the hits just kept coming. She didn't want to do it, but she felt it was time to plead, beg even, to spare her and Sherlock's lives. And anyone else he saw fit to murder for his dastardly scheme.

There was a crash downstairs as the front door was thrown open. Shouting was heard and then the pounding of feet on the stairs. She knew it was going to be Sherlock. Who else would it be? This was it the moment of truth and Hermione had no plan or way to save them. Merlin, what she wouldn't give to be snuggled up by the fire in her flat in Diagon Alley right now… But then, she wouldn't know what it was like to love someone like Sherlock Holmes.

Opening her eyes, she accepted her fate as Sherlock burst through the door. He had no weapon to fight Moriarty, only his wits and devotion to her. Still, she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him. "Sherlock," she said, drawing his attention for a mere second before his gaze returned to Moriarty.

"I don't remember planning a party," Sherlock drawled, taking a few steps into the room. "Then again, you always did make yourself at home regardless of whether or not you were invited."

"How lovely of you to join us, Sherlock," Moriarty teased, his eyes full of hatred. "Hermione and I were just discussing which of you would be the first to die."

"Interesting conversation considering you're supposed to be dead." Sherlock quirked a single eyebrow, his voice remaining calm.

"I could say the same thing about you," Moriarty pointed out.

Sherlock waved the comment away. "Bygones." Narrowing his eyes, he took another step toward Moriarty, attempting to place himself between the man and his lover. "Let's discuss this war you have planned, shall we?"

"Yes, I really would like to set things in motion," Moriarty said, baring his teeth in a horrifying grin. "I've grown bored of our cat and mouse games."

"Sherlock," Hermione said cautiously as she watched Moriarty lift his hands and hold them toward the detective. "Remember he can control the Obscurus within him. Be careful."

"She speaks the truth. I taught myself how to control this monster when I realized I held magic within me," Moriarty told them, waving his hands and smiling when the smallest amount of swirling darkness began to form. "The angrier I grew the more I was able to send forth from my body. Now, it does exactly as I want it to and tonight," he paused for effect, eyes glinting with the darkness within. "Tonight I am going to use it to begin the great war between the two worlds!"

With that, he thrust his hands forward and Sherlock and Hermione watched with horror as the Obscurus came into view. Hermione heard herself scream as she realized it was directed at her. With her body bound to the chair and her wand who knew where, she was utterly defenseless. Sherlock seemed to realize this at the same time she did, their eyes meeting across the room. She wanted to say so many things to him in that second, but there simply wasn't time.

The Obscurus grew and grew until it engulfed Moriarty, obscuring him from view. Sherlock tore his eyes away from Hermione to see if there was a way to stop it but found none. In the end, there was only one thing he could do and so, he did it without second thought. Throwing caution to the wind, he let his heart guide him in order to try and save the witch he loved.

"No!" Sherlocked shouted, throwing himself in front of Hermione to protect her from the Obscurus as it tore outward from Moriarty's body. It surged forward in a chaotic wave before barreling into Sherlock's body as he protected her from the creature.

There was no time to react, not that she could anyway bound to the chair as she was. She simply gasped, eyes wide with terror as the swirling, black chaos exploded upon its impact with Sherlock's body. In an instant, the darkness filled the room. The roaring so loud Hermione thought her ears may start to bleed. Before that could happen, there was a screeching scream and then the darkness drew back nearly as fast as it had appeared.

The Obscurus, intended for her, had hit Sherlock at full force. It knocked him to his knees before shattering into smoke and returning swiftly to Moriarty's body. The intensity of the attack and then retreat took Moriarty by surprise. His body crumpled in on itself, toppling over and causing his head to hit the corner of the desk on the way to the floor. As he lay there unconscious, Hermione's harsh breathing was the only sound in the room for a moment. Then came the sounds of multiple feet running on the stairs.

Still nearly hyperventilating, Hermione tore her gaze away from the broken man in front of her to watch John, Draco, and Harry burst into the room. The two wizards had their wands drawn and John had a gun. Without prompting, John ran to her and the other two went to take care of Moriarty. This was all happening so quickly, Hermione still hadn't spoken a word.

When he reached her, John asked, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I-I'm fine," she muttered, her eyes meeting his briefly before she craned to see past him to where Sherlock was kneeling. "He… Sherlock took the brunt of the attack. The Obscurus should have killed him…"

"Let me get you untied first, Hermione," John mumbled, sparing Sherlock the briefest of glances. "Then we'll take care of him." She nodded unable to say anything else as he went to work. "Good. You're breathing too quickly. Just slow it down. There you go."

John was able to unfasten her bindings quickly, his army skills coming in handy in the aftermath of the attack. Once she was free, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely as a way of thanks. She was much too distraught to offer more than that. He patted her back reassuringly and then allowed her to untangle herself and step aside so she could see the destroyed room. In reality, she only had eyes for Sherlock.

With Draco and Harry securing Moriarty's unconscious body, Hermione rushed to Sherlock, who was still kneeling on the floor. His breathing was erratic and he was trembling something fierce. He looked to his hands and then brought them to his chest as if checking for injury. When he found none, he met her gaze. She frowned at the crazed look in his eyes. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Hermione knew something was wrong.

As his body started seizing, he fell forward into her arms. Quickly, she helped him to lie on the floor, her eyes already seeking out John. The doctor was halfway to them before the screaming started. "Oh Merlin…" she whispered, tears falling freely from her eyes as John rolled him onto his side and took charge. "Please. You can't do this. You have to make it through. I need you, Sherlock. I love you."

John gave her a sympathetic look but continued his work. The seizing slowed and then Sherlock regained consciousness for a brief second. His sea-colored eyes met her gaze and he reached out to her. She took his hand and held fast, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. She didn't expect him to speak but then he cleared his throat. She held his hand within both of hers, holding it to her chest and praying for a miracle.

She and John watched as he struggled to swallow and then speak. The Obscurus had done more damage than it appeared. Internally, they had no idea what was going on, but they would soon. They would get him to the hospital and repair whatever damage had been done. As Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, Hermione felt a flutter of hope. If only she knew it would be short lived...

"Love...you...too…" Sherlock managed to whisper before his eyes rolled back and his heart stopped beating.