Chapter 20: A New Year on the Wrong Foot

Breakfast the morning after the match was very quiet. The side of the tent where the intruders had entered the previous night was mended, but Molly often glanced at where it had been. They had all been shaken up by what had happened, even the unflappable Mycroft. Between the death of the Daily Prophet reporter and the invasion of the tent, the young man had clearly found it rather hard to get any sleep. There were bags under his eyes and he wore a look that told others that they would receive no mercy should they cross him in even the smallest of ways. Not even Sherlock dared to test him that morning. In fact, the younger Holmes was rather acquiescent to anything his brother asked of him.

They trudged through the emptying campsite silently, walking much closer together than they usually did, and took a Portkey, in the form of a chewed up traffic cone in the middle of a clearing, back to the yard outside the Leaky Cauldron.

It took them all a while to get back into the swing of things. Mycroft urged the children not to speak of what had happened to them to anyone and they obeyed him without question. They even stopped talking about it amongst each other, which helped them move on from it and get on with enjoying the rest of their summer.

They spent their remaining couple of weeks mostly wandering around Diagon Alley together while Mycroft was off at work. Almost every afternoon, they went to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and indulged themselves. Mr. Fortescue was very kind to them and let them hang around for as long as they liked, since they weren't a disruptive bunch. Sherlock liked to make observations about the other customers, but he never said them loud enough for anyone but his friends to hear. Their other favourite haunt was Flourish and Blotts, where they could just sit and read for hours on end. Once, Molly and Soo Lin spent an afternoon at Ollivander's and the wandmaker eagerly shared with them much of his knowledge of wandlore while they helped him reshelve wands that had been taken out to be tested by customers. That evening, John recounted to them his adventures in being dragged to the apothecary by Sherlock.

Amidst all of this wandering about, they managed to collect everything they would need for the new school year, though Molly was eventually reminded of the permission form that would allow her to visit Hogsmeade Village on weekends and how Mrs. Digby had not and would never sign it. Mycroft caught her moping about it after dinner the night before she was due to return to Hogwarts.

"Why the sour face?" he asked, sidling up to Molly with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He'd just arrived back from the Ministry and had found her slouching in a chair, alone at one of the tables in the inn.

"I won't be able to go to Hogsmeade," Molly sighed in return.

"Let's see the permission slip, then." Mycroft held out his hand, beckoning for her to give him the paper. She took it from her jumper pocket and unfolded it before handing it over. To her surprise, he drew a fountain pen from his own pocket and signed on the line designated for 'Parent/Guardian' before giving the slip back to her. "This Muggle quill is rather convenient. I shall consider carrying one with me at all times." Molly wasn't sure what to say. She was in a state of confusion between Mycroft signing her form and him marveling over a pen he'd gotten from God knows where.

"H-How...Wha..."

"I'm financially responsible for you, Ms. Hooper. That grants me enough power to give you permission to spend my money," Mycroft explained.

"Oh."

"Now, off to bed with you. You've a train to catch tomorrow morning." Her mood vastly improved, Molly nodded buoyantly and scurried off up the stairs.

She slept surprisingly well that night, dreaming of nothing and not waking until Soo Lin shook her awake the next morning. They had apparently slept in a bit more than they should have. At least that was what Molly gathered from all of the other girl's rushing about. Instilled with her own sense of urgency, she hurried to get dressed. Fortunately, her trunk was already filled with pretty much all of her possessions, so all that remained for her to be ready was breakfast.

The only thing that stopped her from sliding down the railing to the ground floor was particularly stony expression on Mycroft's face that morning, which she spotted as she came to the upper landing. She took the steps down and silently slid into her place opposite Sherlock, knowing that a 'good morning' would go ignored by both brothers.

As soon as the children had finished their food, Mycroft declared that it was time to head out. They fetched their trunks, brooms, and pets and filed out to the Ministry car that was already waiting for them out front. It was a little bit crowded with John and Gladstone, but not to the point of discomfort, at least not for Molly. Sherlock appeared to be quite uncomfortable at the close proximity of two owls to his precious Basil, whom he held protectively in his hand. Both Gladstone and Yue appeared to be rather interested in the poor mouse, so Sherlock's attitude was not unfounded.

The ride to King's Cross was shorter than usual, which was nice in the face of the awkward silence that had hung in the car the entire way. They arrived at 10:55, to the displeasure of all. They had little time for loitering or hesitation, so they each walked briskly into the the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 as soon as they found it, not even stopping to say goodbye to Mycroft. They didn't separate until they had gotten safely onto the train, at which point, Sherlock, Molly, and John claimed the first empty compartment they came to and Soo Lin went off to meet Andy and her other friends.

"Why've you and your brother been in such low spirits this morning?" Molly asked Sherlock as soon as they'd settled in. He said nothing in response at first and pulled out a copy of the latest Daily Prophet. Flipping it around, he showed her the headline, which read, 'CHINESE QUIDDITCH STAR SUSPECTED IN MURDER OF REPORTER', causing Molly to gasp. "Has Soo Lin seen this?"

"Not yet."

"Why didn't you tell her?" The was a slight edge of anger in Molly's voice as she spoke, but Sherlock either didn't detect it or didn't care, because his serious expression remained unchanged.

"We didn't have time for distractions, especially messy, emotional ones."

"Excuse me?! I think the fact that someone Soo Lin loves is suspected of murder is a little more important than catching the train on time!"

"It's not. Telling her would only hurt her and would do nothing to change her brother's situation. Then she would be hopelessly upset and miss the train, thereby making her situation that much worse," Sherlock shot back coldly before snatching back his Daily Prophet and opening it to create a barrier between himself and Molly. She wanted to yell at him some more, but she could think of nothing to say. She knew that he was right, even if what he'd said was put hurtfully bluntly. John gave her a sympathetic look and she leaned her head against the seat in resignation.

The atmosphere in the compartment felt odd in contrast to the cheerfully shining sun and Molly stared out at the countryside rolling by as she wondered if she was allowed to ever have a completely nice day.

After a few hours and considerable effort from John to lighten the mood, Molly and Sherlock were speaking to each other again. Molly was asked to hold Basil whilst his owner bought a fresh hoard of sweets from the trolley. It was then that she noticed that Basil seemed a bit off. He wasn't nearly as energetic or curious as usual.

"Sherlock, is Basil alright?" Molly asked when the Ravenclaw had sat down again.

"It's nothing he won't recover from," he responded quickly, avoiding eye contact with her. She dropped the subject, knowing that he would only get tetchy again if she pressed him even a little. It seemed clear to her that he was much more affected by Basil's condition and this business with Soo Lin's brother than he let on. It was always that way with his emotions, really.

"Ooh, I've got Dumbledore!" John piped up in delight at the newly unwrapped card in his hand.

"Dumbledore's got a Chocolate Frog Card?" Molly questioned and the Gryffindor showed her. There the headmaster was, smiling serenely back at her.

"Of course he has! He defeated the Dark wizard Grindelwald and helped discover the uses of dragon blood." Molly felt rather badly for not having known that about her own headmaster after all this time. She supposed that it was such common knowledge that nobody bothered to talk about it.

"So that's why he's Order of Merlin, First Class?"

"Yep."

"Interesting..." Sherlock suddenly muttered and his friends frowned, doubting very much that he found their conversation interesting and instead wondering what he was on about.

"What is it?" John asked and Sherlock folded his paper back to reveal a particular column, which, Molly noticed, occupied the space that Connie Prince's vile work typically inhabited. Upon closure inspection, Molly saw that the new publication was a report of Connie Prince's untimely death. It said that she had died in a potion making accident when she was developing a new perfume. Judging by Sherlock's expression, he did not think that this was a simple accident.

"Don't you think it rather odd that someone who is such an expert in her craft should make so deadly an error? Don't you think it rather curious that this should happen just before the start of term?" Sherlock began as he set aside the Daily Prophet. There was that familiar glint in his eye, the one that told his friends that he thought it was murder. John was quick to brush it off.

"These things do happen, Sherlock. Yes, it's a bit of a freakish coincidence, but not a terribly big one. Not every odd death is a murder, you know." This put Sherlock in a pout. Quite understandably, he didn't like it when his best friend wouldn't go along with him. Seeing that the atmosphere in the compartment was in danger of turning awkward and gloomy again, Molly put up a metaphorical umbrella as soon as she got the chance.

"Have either of you heard from Hagrid at all over the summer? He did say he'd write."

"I had an interesting correspondence with him about Dragons," Sherlock replied casually and John made a particularly indignant face.

"You've been corresponding with Hagrid all summer but you only sent me one short letter?"

"I had more to say to Hagrid. Is that a crime?"

"No, I suppose not, but still." Molly sighed and once again stepped in to save the conversation.

"So did you get anything from Hagrid, John?"

"Yeah. He sent me a few letters and some samples of his baking. He's a very caring man, isn't he?" Molly gave a nod at this, suddenly feeling quite bad at the thought that Hagrid had probably wrote to her and was most likely a bit hurt that she'd not sent him anything back. They'd have to go down and see him on their first free evening, then, Molly decided. She was sure that the man would be understanding about why she'd not written to him but she felt terribly guilty all the same.

"Stop torturing yourself, Molly. You don't need to be fighting the effects of abuse on two fronts." The girl's gaze snapped abruptly to Sherlock at this, the light of shock in her eyes. He was looking right at her, staring her down as if doing so would will her to think better of herself.

"I-I'll try," she replied meekly, not sure how else to react. Sherlock wasn't normally very perceptive of the feelings of others (or is own for that matter), but he had really hit the bullseye blindfolded with this. Molly was stunned by the fact that he'd been paying attention, understood what he'd seen, and spoke up about it. Perhaps it was a residual effect of the plights of Basil and Soo Lin.

Without saying anything more, Sherlock plucked a Peppermint Toad from the pile of sweets between them. Suddenly craving a Chocolate Frog, Molly took one and felt better almost the moment she ate it. After that, things seemed to go back to normal between the three of them, as if some moody fog had lifted.

Before they knew it, the sun had sunk beneath the horizon and they'd talked about everything from Quidditch to the de-gnoming gone wrong which John had experienced at the start of the summer. They were still giggling as they changed into their uniforms and prepared to arrive at Hogsmeade Station.

When the train began to slow, Sherlock carefully stowed a sleeping Basil in the breast pocket of his robes and soon joined Molly and John in the flow of students exiting onto the platform. They met up with Lestrade and Donovan before they reached the carriages, Sherlock and Donovan sending each other silent glares of judgement from the moment they saw one another.

"Er, Hooper?" Lestrade addressed Molly quietly as the five of them selected a carriage.

"Yeah?"

"Are you still seeing the black winged horses?"

"...Yeah. Why?"

"I, er, I see them now too."

"I'm so sorry." This response seemed to take Lestrade entirely off guard and he frowned at her.

"Why?"

"Because it means that you've seen someone die."

"Oh," the Gryffindor breathed, his dark eyes going wide. "Right then." It was odd for Molly, knowing something a pure-blood didn't about the magical world, but she felt no satisfaction for it, given the circumstances. Lestrade fell into thoughtful silence for a while, not participating in the conversation the others were having, and Molly felt great sympathy for him.

When they reached the castle, the five of them donned their pointy hats and followed the flow of students into the Great Hall. Molly quickly spotted Meena and took her usual place beside her.

"Hiya, Molly! How was your summer?" the older girl asked excitedly upon seeing her.

"Pretty terrible until the Holmeses took me to the Quidditch World Cup," Molly admitted.

"Oh my God! You got to go? You have to tell me all about it!" It soon became clear that Meena had eaten too many sweets on the train. She spoke quickly and her reactions to everything were exaggerated. Molly began to tell her about her summer adventures, of course leaving out what had happened the night of the Quidditch World Cup. It had been made quite clear that she was to speak of it to no one. Meena's focused disgust at how she had been treated at the orphanage helped her forget her worries regarding Soo Lin Yao.

Before long, the first years had been called in and sorted into their houses. It was somewhat less interesting than it had been the previous years, since Molly was neither one of those being sorted nor a friend of one. What was of interest to her, and every other student in the room, was the speech that followed and very particularly the headmaster's remarks on the death of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"As I'm sure you have all noticed, we have an empty seat here at the staff table, owing the unfortunate accident that befell Professor Prince not so long ago. Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mr. Edward Van Coon, will be arriving next week. I'm sure you will all get along very well with him. He has already done us a great service by agreeing to take the position on such short notice. I'm also sure that all our hearts go out to Professor Prince's family during this sad and difficult time." The hall was completely silent as he spoke. No one even whispered about the name he had dropped. Though Professor Prince hadn't been much liked by her students, no one was going to be so cold as to disrespect her death.

Later, in the comfort of the Hufflepuff Common Room, Molly did hear others talking about the new teacher. No one seemed to really know who Edward Van Coon was, although one boy said that he had heard from a Slytherin friend, whose elder brother was in business, that Van Coon worked with the goblins at Gringott's Bank. Whether or not that was true remained to be seen. Molly chose to put it out of her mind and simply enjoy the fact that she was back at Hogwarts.

A/N: Sorry for the shortness and poor quality. Life has been really putting me through the ringer these past few months and it doesn't look like it'll be letting up anytime soon. All the same, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll try to get the next one done soon, but as always, I can't make any promises.