Author's Note: Happy New Year! This is horribly late and I am terribly behind. Thank you everyone who has been supportive and understanding. I'm determined to get this story completed for you within a timely period. I should warn you though that the front of this story was more content heavy than the end. The last chapters are much shorter than the others but only about half. Also, there are two that are not written yet (I didn't realize this at the end of NaNo). I plan on working on them this weekend. Anyway, thanks for the love and I can't wait to see what you all think of this one!

Feel free to follow me on twitter, tumblr, or locate my author group and/or page on Facebook. I go by xxDustNight88 everywhere! Updates to my works can always be found there!

Many thanks to GaeilgeRua for not only inspiring this story, but encouraging me to expand and allowing me to use her subscription to Grammarly to beta! This one is for you! Much love, xxDustNight

*NOTE* If while reading this you feel you've read it before, there is a very good chance of that. This story is the expanded version of a two-shot I wrote last year for the Holmes for the Holidays series. You can still find that piece on my profile; although it has been renamed Underneath the Christmas Lights. Please do not send me messages or leave comments telling me that this story is copied. It's not. It's mine. I just made it longer for your reading enjoyment! Thanks!

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.

. . . .

27 December 2018

"Where were you the night of December 24th?" Theo asked, swallowing heavily and hating every minute of this interview process.

Sighing dramatically, Blaise crossed one leg over the other and set his husband with a defiant stare. "Waiting in the tub for my husband to return home to me. I was naked, by the way, and fully hard."

Biting back a grin, Theo said, "Look I need you to take this serious, Blaise."

"This is a load of rubbish, Theodore," Blaise said, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "You know I'm innocent. Just write me off and let me go home. Better yet, you come home with me."

"Merlin, there is nothing I want more than to come home with you, love," Theo began, setting aside his notebook. "Unfortunately, the Minister requires us to interview everyone in the Ministry, as well as attached to it."

"Even me?" Blaise laughed sarcastically and crossed his arms. "I hate the Ministry. I know you love working here, but after the banished my family after the war, I lost all respect."

"We got that sorted, didn't we?" Theo asked, remembering all too well the few years where he and Blaise were forced to be apart due to the exile.

"We did, but that definitely tarnished the entire Ministry, in my opinion," Blaise said, frowning. "Theo, love, I know you only have a couple others left to interview, but for the love of Merlin, let me go. You've hardly slept and you know I was home all night, waiting for you."

"The Minister is counting on me to do this. He'll be asking for the transcription of this interview," Theo continued to explain. "Harry has to read over it too."

"You, darling husband, are wasting your time interviewing me," Blaise said as he crossed his arms again. "You could be out there looking for the killer right now." He smiled triumphantly as a look of clarity washed over Theo's face.

"You know what? You're right. Fuck this," Theo said, tossing aside his quill and standing. He strode over to the door and opened the damned thing. "I know you're innocent. Go home, Blaise. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"

Slowly, Blaise stood from the chair and walked over to his husband. He took his face into his hands and then kissed him for a good, long time. When he broke apart, he placed his forehead against Theo's and said, "You're a brilliant detective, Theo. You're going to find the killer, I know you will."

Sighing heavily, Theo smiled as he stared into Blaise's dark eyes. "Thank you for that. I needed it."

"I know," Blaise said as he released his hold. "Now, hurry that cute arse of yours along and solve this thing so you can come home to me." Blowing a kiss, Blaise disappeared out the door.

Alone, Theo thought about the case. He only had a couple people left to interview, but they could wait until later. He wanted another look at the crime scenes and the body before it was released to the Creevy family. Grabbing his cloak, Theo left this office, intent on getting to the bottom of this case even if it meant enlisting help from one Sherlock Holmes.

. . . .

Harry, I was helping Sherlock look over some notes on his case last night when I realized he was working 'my' case. He's been researching my attack and the murder from Christmas Eve. I think they're related. The locations of the attacks in the paper… They're all familiar to me! Am I right? Are the cases linked? Who was murdered Christmas Eve, Harry? Please, I need to know. I want to help.

Pacing, Harry put away his mobile after reading Hermione's text for the sixth or seventh time. He really wanted to tell her that her suspicions were correct and that her case was linked to the murder on Christmas Eve. Only, he didn't want to get her or Sherlock involved further than they already were. So, instead of texting back his best friend who was probably going insane being separated from them all, he continued to pace in his kitchen.

"Good Godric, Harry," Ginny groused from over by the stove. She was finishing up breakfast for the children and trying not to go insane herself. "Why are you pacing and grumbling to yourself? It's driving me mad."

"Hermione," Harry muttered, stopping so he could turn and address his wife. "She put two and two together and figured out that her attack is linked with the Muggle attacks, as well as the murder."

Slowly, Ginny lowered the wooden spoon she'd been stirring scrambled eggs with. "So does that mean she's coming back?"

"No," Harry replied, swiping his hand through the air. "Absolutely not. She texted wanting to know if her assumptions are correct."

"Well, I hope you told her the truth, Harry," Ginny said, resuming making breakfast. "Kids! Breakfast" she shouted before using her wand to move everything to the kitchen table. Rounding on her husband who was suspiciously silent, she gave him a stern look.

"I haven't replied," Harry said sheepishly. As James, Albus, and Lily filtered into the kitchen and took their seats at the table, he wandered over to Ginny and lowered his voice. "I don't want her to come rushing back. She's safer there."

Sighing heavily, Ginny waited while the children filled their plates and then gently took her husband's hand and led him out onto the back porch. It was a cold morning but only helped to clear her mind. Turning, she looked into Harry's eyes and took his hands.

"You have to tell her but make sure she knows she can't return right now, alright?" she told him, her voice soft with concern. "If you shut her out, she's going to do something rash, plus she won't appreciate that you've done so."

Looking out at the empty backyard, Harry could find no fault in his wife's words. "I know I have to tell her. I'll do one even better and actually call her this afternoon. Theo and I are finishing interviews. As soon as we do that, I'll give her a call."

"You'd better, Harry Potter," Ginny said with sternness. Dropping his hands, she playfully poked him in the chest. "Hermione is your best friend. She deserves to know what's going on in our world while she's stuck on the outside."

"You're right," Harry muttered, kissing Ginny's forehead. He smiled when she hummed happily.

"Of course I am," she said with a smirk. "Now get back inside and enjoy breakfast with the kids before you have to go back to work. They've missed their father, and you should try and enjoy what little time Kingsley has allotted you."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry quipped and then had to dodge out of the way when Ginny made to swat him on the behind. Before they went back inside, he did manage to steal one last kiss.

. . . .

After his early trip into Muggle London, all Theo wanted to do was go home to Blaise and relax. Luckily, the Ministry had promised him a few hours off this evening if he finished his interviews. That could quickly be done, and so Theo had told his secretary to call everyone on his list. Only Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy, and Marcus Flint remained. It would be boring and repetitive, but Theo would get it done. Then, he could go home to Blaise for a few hours and let his mind rest.

A few minutes of peace was all Theo was granted after finishing his interview with Gregory Goyle. The man was married to Millicent Bulstrode and worked security at Azkaban on the weekends. Millicent was Hermione's secretary and would have access to Ministry files and records. The interview went reasonably well except for an odd moment when Greg asked if Theo had plans for the New Year yet. How was he supposed to have plans with the case still wide open? After replying as much, he sent the wizard on his way and tried to breathe.

Unfortunately, there was no rest for the weary. Greg had just left when Draco came waltzing through the door. He dropped into the chair across from Theo and drawled, "Shall we get this over with then?"

Smirking at his friend, Theo picked up his discarded quill. "In a hurry, Malfoy. That's awfully suspicious." Draco kept a straight face while he spoke, but there was a deep sadness to his grey eyes.

"Don't toy with me, Nott. Astoria has an appointment with the Healers. I don't have time to waste."

Clenching his teeth, Theo felt a wave of remorse wash over him. He hid it well, though. Draco didn't like people to sympathise over him. Astoria's maledictus was well known in their group of friends. Soon, she would be dead, and Draco and Scorpius would be alone. Surely he wasn't the killer? If he were caught, that would mean a life sentence for Draco and his son would be ostracised for the rest of his life. Nevertheless, Theo had a job to do even if it was difficult.

"Okay…" Theo began slowly, pulling a fresh piece of parchment toward him. "Let's talk about your connection with the Ministry."

Sighing heavily, Draco folded his arms. "We both know that I am in charge of the Ministry's accounts at Gringotts. Do I have access to Ministry information? Yes, absolutely. Did I orchestrate mass attacks on Ministry officials and their families and kill Creevy? No. I have far more important things to worry about these days, Nott. It's not like any of the idiots here can find a way to cure my wife."

"I'm well aware, Draco," Theo said, keeping his annoyance in check. Nevertheless, I'm going to need a step-by-step of what you've been up to. Specifically the night of the 25th."

Rolling his eyes, Draco took a deep breath and began. Theo did his best to write down everything the wizard said. Forty-five minutes later, they were finished, and Theo was even more tired than before. As Draco left, he gave his friend a brief hug and then called for his secretary to send in the next wizard on the list.

After settling back in behind his desk, Theo was surprised to see Marcus Flint already sitting at his desk. Glancing around, he said, "Wow, Flint. I didn't even hear you come in here. If only you were that fast when you played Quidditch back at Hogwarts. Maybe Slytherin would have won more games." he chuckled at his own joke, and he prepared a new interview parchment.

Smirking, Marcus's crooked teeth glinted in the light. "Funny," he said about Theo's joke. "I've been trying to stay in shape. Daphne enjoys me a lot more when-"

Theo held up a hand to stop his old schoolmate from continuing. "I do not need to hear about your and Daphne's sex life, thank you very much." Marcus had recently married Daphne Greengrass when her former husband, Adrian Pucey, had suddenly passed away from a heart attack in his sleep a little under a year ago. Daphne worked in the records room downstairs with her sister until Astoria had grown too ill to continue.

"Very well," Marcus said and then cleared his throat. "Are you ready to begin?" he asked, pointing at the parchment. "I'm an open book, Nott. Feel free to ask me anything."

. . . .

Finally finished with the last of his interviews, Theo was preparing to go home for supper. The Minister had granted him a few hours leave to rest and recuperate now that the interviews were officially completed. When he returned later that evening, he and Harry would begin the tedious process of meticulously skimming through them for details. Hopefully, they would find something to help them with identifying the killer once and for all.

He'd just put on his coat when something tickled at the back of his mind. He really tried to ignore it, but the tickle only grew. Something about one of his interviews just didn't sit right in his heart. Supper would have to wait.

"Something isn't right," Theo mumbled under his breath. Turning back around, he returned to his desk and rifled through the mountain of files and papers. After a moment he found what he was looking for. Lifting the interview transcript he'd done earlier, he reread a few of the comments and then scratched at the back of his head.

"Theo?"

Snapping his head around, Theo winced when his neck cracked. Rubbing at it he answered the wizard in the doorway. "Hey, Harry."

Recognising the look on Theo's face as the one he often got when about to crack a difficult case, Harry stepped into the office. "What is it? What have you figured out."

"I think I know who may be our killer," he said slowly, the horror of the situation sinking in.

Harry reached out for the file Theo held, an uneasiness creeping into his gut as he looked down at the name scrawled across the top of the page. After his initial shock wore off, he quickly skimmed the transcript. Sure enough, there were a few inconsistencies with the wizard's alibi and some of the comments he'd made. "I didn't expect this," he admitted, glancing up at Theo.

"Nor did I," Thero agreed. "Not him… Never him."

"We have to be careful, Theo," Harry said slowly, handing the transcript back to the wizard. "He's linked to some pretty powerful people. Are you going to be okay?"

Staring down at the interview in his hand, Theo felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He had a job to do though. This was strictly business. Looking back at Harry, he just said, "I'm going to have to be."

. . . .

When she'd woke up today, Hermione immediately sent a text to Harry asking about whether or not her suspicions were correct. Sherlock was absent from the flat, as was Mrs Hudson. This left Hermione to examine the evidence on her own, using the solitude to her advantage. It was true she didn't have her wand; however, she had always been partial to nonverbal spells anyway. Glancing back and forth just to ensure she was truly alone, she reached out with her magic and tried to figure out a connection.

That was how John found her later that evening. "Hey, Hermione," he called, jerking her back to reality. When she stumbled, he quickly dropped his coat and made to grab her before she could hit the floor. "Whoa!"

Once he'd helped her to sit in Sherlock's chair, Hermione took a deep breath. "Thank you," she said breathily, chest heaving. It hurt, and it was then that she realised she'd overexerted herself with the wandless magic.

"What happened? What were you doing?" John asked, kneeling beside her and going to take her pulse. He frowned at whatever he calculated and then stood to go rummage through his doctor bag.

"I guess I just stood for too long. I'm trying to help Sherlock with his case." She accepted the medicine tablets he handed her, popping them in her mouth and then taking the glass of water he gave her. He hoped he didn't pester her further about it; she didn't want to lie about having used magic.

"Did he ask you to because if he did, I'm going to kill him. You're not supposed to be overexerting yourself." John sighed, genuinely concerned for her and she suddenly felt terrible.

"I'm sorry, John," she apologised, relaxing into the worn leather chair. "I'll take it easy. I swear."

"Good." John moved to sit in his chair, rubbing a hand over his worn face. "Why are you helping Sherlock with his case, anyway?"

"Because it's mine," she replied simply, taking another sip of water. Already, she could feel a little bit of her strength returning. At John's startled look, she shrugged one shoulder. "And because I think it's related to the case my team is working on too."

"You're in law enforcement?" John looked surprised, to say the least. He ran a hand through his hair and reminded her of Harry for a moment. He hadn't been part of the conversation she'd had with Mary about her occupation.

She shrugged one shoulder, trying to appear nonchalant. "Sort of. Private sector. Very much a need to know basis." That was the best she could say by way of explanation without revealing her true self.

"Were you sent here by Mycroft?" he asked, suddenly causing her to frown.

"Who?" She had no idea who that might be. She quickly wracked her brain for any mention of the name but found none.

Shaking his head, John muttered, "Nevermind," and then made to stand. "Look, I came by to check on you, but you're not going to get any better if you don't take it easy, okay?"

"I'm going to relax the rest of the evening. I swear it." She smiled, crossing her heart with a gesture and earning her a laugh from the good doctor.

"That's what I like to hear. If you feel worse or anything at all, use the mobile I gave you to call Mary or even bloody Sherlock. They can get in touch with me. I have to work at the clinic this weekend." He patted her on the shoulder and then bent to pick up his coat from where he'd dropped it on the floor. "I'll see you Monday for the New Year's Eve party."

"Okay! Give Mary and Rosie my best." Hermione smiled, grateful that she was lucky enough to have been rescued by such a kind-hearted man. John was great, and she felt bad for pushing herself. Clearing her throat, she managed to get his attention before he disappeared out the door. "And thank you, John. I appreciate all of this, really I do."

John's face softened, and he cleared his throat, though she suspected for a different reason. "You're welcome, Hermione. Have a good night."

"You too, John."

After John left, Hermione stood and wandered over to the sofa and got comfortable there instead. Idly, she wished Sherlock would come home with more details about the case so she could talk it through with him. Hermione was just about to slip into a light doze where she sat when the mobile in her pocket rang. Quickly, she pulled it from the pocket, her heart hoping it was Sherlock. She was only slightly disappointed when she didn't recognise the number right away.

Still, she hit the green button and held the mobile to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hermione? It's Harry."

"Harry! It's so good to hear from you," she breathed, holding the mobile tight against her ear as if she were hugging her friend instead. When there was a sigh on the other end of the line, she frowned. "Harry? What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's the case, Hermione," Harry said solemnly. "You were right. The cases are all linked, and Theo thinks he knows who did it."

Sitting up straighter, Hermione got a determined look on her face as she stared at the stack of case notes on Sherlock's desk. "Tell me. I want to help."

"You have to promise me one thing though. Can you do that?"

"Sure. Anything. Please, I just want to help. I feel so useless."

"You have to promise that you'll remain where you are. Being with Sherlock Holmes is the safest place for you right now. Can you do that for me?" Harry asked, almost pleading.

Glancing around the empty flat, Hermione placed a hand on her still broken ribs. She did feel safer with Sherlock around, that was true, but could she promise to stay here while her friends searched for the murderer? As she pondered this, the man in question strode through the door. He paused when he saw her on the phone, his eyes full of concern. It was in that instant that Hermione knew she could easily remain here with the consulting detective.

Taking a deep breath, she met Sherlock's gaze and replied to Harry. "I promise to remain here with Sherlock. Now, tell me what we can do to help solve this case."