Author's Note/ Disclaimer: *Puts shades on* guess who just rocked up from nowhere! Not me, sorry to disappoint. I put the glasses on cause DAMN THE LIGHTS ARE BRIGHT! Right, I guess I owe you all an explanation. Basically, I finished college, laughed when I miraculously passed my course, laughed even more when I found out that said course was not necessary, enrolled onto a new course with an apprenticeship, hated my course but loved my job, dropped out of my apprenticeship to keep my job like "YOOOOOOOOOOOO", got put on another course like "NOOOOOOOOOOO", finished that course, noticed that I have a huge ass book to finish yet and have yet to be enrolled onto ANOTHER COURSE :D

I'm noticing a huge circle in my life ._.

Oh yeah, I also made a new FanFiction account and started writing a Naruto high school AU... Don't shoot me.

ANNNND because it was requested:

**PREVIOUSLY ON A STUUDY IN MAGIC!**

~Explosions~

~Screaming~

~People running~

~Really cool voice over dude that sounds kinda like Morgan Freeman, but you're never entirely sure whether it's him or not~

Yeah, I have no idea. I read the previous chapter because Sam told me something about Sherlock and an Axe through John's backdoor. I laughed because I thought she was joking, stopped laughing when I read it and loudly exclaimed "Did I seriously write this?"

Anyway, this chapter hasn't been proof read and it's kinda short. I was too scared to go to my BETA's with this chapter in case I got variations of "ABOUT BLOODY TIME!"

Sherlock is owned by BBC and Sir Conan Arthur Doyle whereas Harry Potter is owned by J. and the various companies that may or may not now be linked to her and Warner Bros.

Enjoy, feel free to abuse me over the long wait.

~Fishcake

Chapter Twenty

Later that evening, Sherlock, John, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, George and Fred found themselves being quietly, but hurriedly ushered up the stair by a frantic Mrs Weasley while a few older witches and wizards – some of whom John did not recognise and a few he did – rushed down the stairs to the kitchen where Mycroft had led the two teenagers that morning.

'But mum –' Fred began to moan as Mrs Weasley pushed him and his twin; George, up the stairs.

'No buts! I want you all to stay in you rooms until the meeting is over!' Mrs Weasley whispered harshly. 'I've told you before, you're too young!'

'We're of age, this is completely unfair!' George groaned and rolled his eyes.

'My word is final and I'm saying no.' Mrs Weasley stopped at the top of the stairs – blocking the way back down. She folded her arms and glared at the twins as though daring them to challenge her. 'And don't even bother trying to apparate into the kitchen this time, we've put barriers up.' She gave everyone a final glance before retreating down the stairs to rejoin those who had gathered in the kitchen.

'Well, you heard the woman.' George sighed and pouted at the others. 'Let's all sit tight in our rooms until the meeting's over.'

John stared at George in astonishment, 'are you being serious?'

'Of course not!' Fred and George burst into laughter.

'You didn't really believe that they'd back down that easily, did you?' Ron grinned in amusement.

'Wait here, I'll go and get them.' George announced as he turned to his twin with a nod.

'Them?' John questioned as he watched George run into the bedroom that he shared with Fred.

'Extendable Ears. We've been using them to listen into the Order's meetings.' Ginny explained.

'What is the "Order" exactly?'

'The Order of the Phoenix is an organisation founded by Albus Dumbledore.' Sherlock elaborated to his companion. 'They fought against Vol–'

'You-Know-Who.' Ron cut Sherlock off as Hermione, Ginny and George shuddered. 'Sorry.' Ron gave Sherlock an apologetic glance.

'They fought against You-Know-Who last time he was alive.' Sherlock finished; tailoring his vocabulary so as not to upset those around him – something he had become accustomed to doing since he had befriended John.

'So, who's in the Order?'

'Professor Moody, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Professor Lupin, Sirius, Nymphadora Tonks–' Hermione began to list off names on her fingers. 'Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dedulus Diggle… I don't think I could list everyone.'

'So many people come to this place at different times, it's impossible to know if we've seen them before.' Ginny agreed.

'Hang on,' John frowned, 'what about Percy? You didn't mention his name.'

'Oh.' Ginny looked down at the floor. 'Percy's –'

'A pompous prat.' George offered with a sneer.

'He had an argument with dad.' Ron explained as he saw the confused expressions on Sherlock and John's face. 'Said that he wanted nothing more to do with us as long as we were siding with Dumbledore.'

'What?' John gaped at Ron.

'Hm.' Sherlock shrugged. 'Makes sense.'

'How so?' John frowned at the Ravenclaw.

'Percy's always valued his place at the Ministry, he's not going throw it all away for some organisation, is he?'

'GOT THEM!' Fred called out triumphantly as he rejoined the other teens in the hallway; he had seven flesh coloured strings clutched in his hands and a grin lit up his face. 'Took me a while to find them, mum's still furious about the incident with the Ton-Tongue Toffee last year.'

'She's been watching us like a hawk.' George shook his head with a sigh. 'We've had to hide all of our joke shop inventions.'

'Let's go, shall me?' Fred continued to beam at the others and quietly descended the stairs again.

Once everyone had reached the door that parted the teenagers from the meeting taking place inside the kitchen, George and Fred threaded each flesh coloured string through the gap between the floor and the door and handed out the Extendable Ears to the others.

'You just put this end in your ear like this.' Fred demonstrated to Sherlock and John in a hushed voice.

Sherlock and John followed Fred's lead and jumped slightly as the sound of the voices from the kitchen issued from the Extendable Ears.

' –not much we can do about it, Sirius, calm down.'

'Professor Lupin…' John commented with a nod from the others.

'The boy's just been attacked, how can I stay calm at a moment like this?' Sirius's voice shook.

'Attacked?' Ginny breathed; the colour drained from her face as she stared at the others.

'Surely You-Know-Who wouldn't act so fast?' Ron whispered; he turned his gaze towards Sherlock and Hermione as though hoping that they would confirm this information.

'Shh!' Hermione and Sherlock pressed their finger to their lips in unison and nodded towards the wooden door.

' – will sort this out, we better wait for him to tell us what's going on.' Mrs Weasley spoke up.

'Did Arthur hear anything else?' Remus Lupin asked in a soft voice.

'Nothing.' Mrs Weasley replied in a solemn tone. The rustling noise of parchment indicated that she was currently holding or reading a letter from her husband; looking for more information to share with her fellow Order members.

'Dementors in Surrey.' Sirius muttered to himself. 'Poor sod will be lucky if he's not expelled.'

'Dumbledore won't let that happen.' Remus comforted Sirius.

Each of the teenagers outside the kitchen door shared a dumbfounded look.

'Dementors!' George whispered.

'Aren't they controlled by the Ministry?' Ginny mouthed.

'Dumbledore said that the Ministry would lose control over them.' Sherlock sighed wearily. 'He said it the night Harry returned from the graveyard, remember?'

'I hope Harry's alright.' Hermione fiddled with the Extendable Ear nervously.

'It'll be alright.' John smiled at her. 'Harry knows how to look after himself.'

'Yeah,' Ron nodded, 'and I bet Dumbledore's sorting it out as we speak.'

'Shh!' Fred whispered as Sirius's voice issued from the Extendable Ears again.

'I'm going to send him a letter.'

'Sirius –' Remus warned.

'I know, I know!' Sirius snapped back at his friend and the sound of a chair being scraped against the stone floor sounded through the flesh coloured threads. 'I'm not allowed to give away too much information in case the letter is interce –'

'Move, MOVE!' Fred hissed frantically to the other teenagers while he ushered them towards the stairs and George yanked the Extendable Ears out from under the door. 'Go, go, go! He's coming this way!'

They all scurried up the stairs and out of sight as the kitchen door opened and Sirius began to ascent the stairs. The older man caught up with the teenagers before they had finished climbing the stairs towards their bedrooms; everyone stopped and stared between one another. Sirius gave the Extendable Ears a knowing stare then glanced into each guilty face.

'Don't let Molly catch you lot with them.' He nodded at the flesh coloured threads. 'She'll have your necks.' He then continued to the upper floors without a backwards glance at the group he had just left behind.

'He's right.' George said once Sirius had left their company and silence fell over them once more.

'We better get in our rooms before mum comes up here.' Fred agreed. With an understanding nod from the rest of the group, George and Fred departed into their own room while Sherlock, John, Ron, Hermione and Ginny bundled into the room that Ron occupied on his own.

'Is it safe to talk in here?' Hermione asked timidly glancing around the room as though she expected to see recording equipment watching their every move.

'Yeah,' Ron nodded towards a framed canvas that was mounted on the wall, 'he's not here.'

'Who's not here?' John enquired – he too stared at the dark backdrop on the canvas.

'Phineas Nigellus.' Ron grunted.

'I wonder where he goes.' Ginny glanced at the canvas curiously.

'No idea, but I don't trust him.' Ron growled to himself as he threw himself down on one of the two beds. 'I feel like I'm being watched when he's here.'

Ginny perched herself next to her brother on the bed while Hermione, Sherlock and John settled themselves down on the other bed. 'The Ministry have to let Harry off; he's allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations, right?'

'The Ministry isn't exactly in favour of Harry at the moment.' Sherlock tutted. 'Haven't you been reading The Daily Prophet?'

'A bit.' Ron shrugged honestly. 'Only cover to cover though.'

'I told you.' Hermione groaned. 'You have to really read through it to find the articles.'

'I don't know why you still read them, Hermione.' Ron rolled his eyes at her. 'They only make you really mad, you've hated The Daily Prophet ever since that Rita Skeeter stuck her nose in at Hogwarts.'

'I don't want to hear about those stupid articles secondhand from those Slytherins again.' Hermione fumed and folded her arms across her chest defensively. 'I'm not letting them have the upperhand.'

'So what are these articles about?' John tried to swerve the conversation back on topic.

'Harry's a liar.' Ginny noted.

'Dumbledore's off his rocker.' Sherlock summarised.

'That's pretty much it.' Ron concluded.

'The Daily Prophet is going to have a field day when they find out about this Dementor attack.' Hermione grimaced.

John and Sherlock were woken up by a tapping sound at their window in the early hours of the morning.

'What the fu –' John groggily sat up in his bed and tried to focus his eyes on the small white figure that continued to tap against the window pane. 'Is that…? Sherlock!'

'Go away!' Sherlock grumbled irritably. 'I'm trying to sleep.'

John sat up on his bed and gave the Ravenclaw a good kick up the backside. 'Sherlock, it's Hedwig!'

'JOHN!' Sherlock fell out of his bed and then pulled himself into a stand position using his bed as a support and rubbing his backside. 'That's going to bruise, I can feel it.' The raven haired boy muttered to himself.

'Good! Serves you right for being a stubborn git!' John folded his arms and pouted at his companion.

'No need to kick.' Sherlock approached the window and opened it for Hedwig to enter the room. 'Good morning, Hedwig. I trust that you're going to give me a friendlier greeting.' Sherlock held his hand out to stroke the owl, but Hedwig pecked his outstretched hand as soon as it was within range of her beak. 'AH, SHIT!' Sherlock retracted his hand and examined his now bleeding hand.

'HA!' John laughed. 'Even Hedwig agrees with me!'

'Shut up, John.' Sherlock shot back at his sandy-haired friend. He then turned back to Hedwig. 'Okay, I won't stroke you if you don't want me to.' He reached towards the five scrolls fastened inside a leather thong that was tied to Hedwig's leg; the snowy owl let Sherlock remove the parchments and waited for him to read them. 'There one here addressed to you, John.' Sherlock threw one of the five scrolls at John.

'Who're the others for?' John asked; approaching the window to stand beside Sherlock. Hedwig flew into the room; knocking both boys in the head as she passed.

'What's her problem?' Sherlock scowled quietly as he shot a glare in Hedwig's direction. He then turned his attention back towards the scrolls that had Harry's handwriting scrawled over them. 'Sirius, Ron, Hermione and myself.' Sherlock crossed the room, pulled the door open and headed across the hallway to Ron's room; swiftly followed by John and Hedwig. 'Why's the bird following us?' Sherlock murmured.

'No idea, maybe she's hungry.' John suggested with a shrug as he glanced up at the white owl. John unrolled his own letter from Harry as they walked and read the contents inside.

"I've just been attacked by Dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I am going to get out of here."

'He sounds pretty desperate.' John frowned at the letter.

Sherlock stopped in the middle of the hallway to unroll his letter too and read the short paragraph written on the parchment; he then looked over John's shoulder to see if they were the same.

'How did he know we were all here?' John asked with a quizzical expression.

'I don't think he did.' Sherlock furrowed his brow. 'Stroke of luck that we're all here. We're not going to be able to answer these either. Not unless we make up a code of some sort.'

'A code?'

'Even that's too risky.' Sherlock continued to himself; as though he had forgotten John was there at all. 'If a coded message was intercepted, the letter might not reach its destination at all. Besides, we couldn't make the code too complicated otherwise Harry wouldn't understand it either and let's admit it, he's not exactly the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree.'

'That's a bit harsh, he's your friend, remember?'

'Acquaintance. He's not here to hear me say it anyway.' Sherlock stopped pondering over his response and knocked upon Ron's door before entering without waiting for an answer.

'Who's that?' Ron's muffled voice came from beneath the duvet as he buried his head away from the light of the hallway.

'Just us.' Sherlock replied in a mock cheerful voice. 'You've got mail.'

'At this time of night?' Ron yawned; sitting up and letting the duvet fall off of his head. He blinked up at Sherlock and John. 'From who?'

'Who do you think?' John asked rhetorically as Sherlock handed Ron the rolled up parchment with his name on it. Sherlock and John watched Ron's brow furrow as he read his letter from Harry. 'We've got one too, so have Sirius and Hermione.' John informed the redhead with a sigh.

'It's too late to answer this now.' Ron yawned again. 'Sort it out in the morning.'

As Ron placed Harry's letter on the bedside table, Hedwig swooped down from the top of the wardrobe – where she has settled herself while Ron had read his letter – and began to peck at Ron.

'OW! OW! OW!' Ron winced with each peck. 'WHAT THE HELL? GET OFF, HEDWIG!' He threw his arms up in a defensive stance to protect his face from the angry bird.

'What the hell has got into her?' John ran over to help Ron from being attacked by the white owl, but only succeeded in catching himself in her onslaught of pecks.

'Good morning.' Hermione smiled as Ron, Sherlock and John entered the kitchen; but the smile soon slid off of her face when she saw the numerous lacerations that now covered they boys' arms and hands. 'What happened to you three?' Hermione gasped – setting aside the stack of plates she was placing around the table for Mrs Weasley.

'Hedwig.' Ron grunted

'She had a good go at trying to peck us to death last night.' John elaborated as he slumped down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

'That's not like Hedwig.' Hermione frowned. 'You must've spooked her.'

'Spooked her?' Ron stared at Hermione in disbelief. 'She was fine until we read those letters from Harry!'

'What letters?'

Sherlock pulled out a folded piece of parchment from within the pocket of his purple shirt. 'They arrived in the early hours of this morning. I think they're all the same.'

Hermione took the parchment from Sherlock and delicately unfolded it before studying the untidy message inside; she then glanced up at her friends with worrisome eyes. 'We're not going to be able to answer this. I bet the Ministry and the Death Eaters are watching over his aunt and uncle's house. It's too risky to send a reply.'

'So what do we do?' John enquired.

'Ask Sirius?' Ron suggested with a shrug.

'Or Dumbledore.' Sherlock added thoughtfully. 'Though, he'll probably tell us not to reply.'

'We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?' Hermione reread her letter with a glum expression.