Author's Note: I am almost finished with this story, so be on the look-out for more over the nexgt week. Much love, xxDustNight.
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! Huge thank you to starrnobella for reading this chapter over to make sure I haven't lost my touch! Haha! 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.
30 December 2018
Dawn found Hermione impatiently waiting on the sofa. She was perched on the edge, ears straining to hear the return of Sherlock downstairs. A sleepless night found her chest aching and eyes weary. If John knew she'd skipped her medicine to stay awake, he'd probably have a fit, but she needed to be watchful for when Sherlock returned. Sleep would only make it more difficult to hear the front door open or his fancy shoes on the staircase.
Knowing she was being ridiculous, Hermione forced herself to stand and move to the kitchen. Making tea and a small breakfast would help the time go by faster. Even if she didn't eat it, at least her hands wouldn't be idle, and if he did come home, Sherlock could have some toast and tea with her.
Breakfast ready and waiting, Hermione found that Sherlock was probably not coming home anytime soon as seconds turned to minutes and miniature to hours. Part of her had known not to get her hopes up, but the other half had yearned for that companionship that only Sherlock seemed to be able to provide since she'd come to 221B. So as she resumed her perch on the sofa, Hermione knew today was going to be hell.
Little did she know that back home, the lives of her friends were falling apart as the chess pieces were placed for their final moves.
"Are you doing okay, mate?" Harry asked Theo as he came into the office and sat down.
Leaning forward, Theo placed his face in his hands and let out the most enormous sigh possible. "How do you think I'm doing? I've been up for nearly twenty-four hours, my husband hates me, and I still don't even know if this crazy plan of ours is even going to work."
"Blaise doesn't hate you," Harry started to say and then stopped himself. Actually, he wasn't sure how Theo's husband was doing at this point. Setting aside his quill, Harry tried to be a good friend rather than a co-worker. "Listen, tomorrow is New Year's Eve, Theo. If all goes according to plan, Hermione will be home safe, and this entire mess will be resolved."
"I hope that you're right, Potter," Theo said, lifting his head to reveal tear-brimmed eyes, "because I love Blaise with everything I have and seeing him shut up in Azkaban is the most devastating thing I've had to endure since the war."
"It's over, Theo," Harry said, his heart breaking for his friend. "We've won, and now we just have to wait for everything to fall into place. By the time the clock strikes midnight tonight, we'll have exactly what we need, and everything will be fine."
"For everyone's sake," said Theo, pointing at Harry, "I hope that you're right."
Ron burst through the backdoor into Ginny's kitchen, a copy of The Daily Prophet clenched tightly in one hand. "Have you seen the paper this morning?" he exclaimed, slamming the door shut behind him and earning a glare from his sister.
"Ronald Weasley," Ginny hissed, pointing her wand at her brother, "if you wake the kids before the sun has fully risen, you're going to get a nose full of bats."
Stopping short, Ron realized just how loud he'd actually been. "Sorry, but have you seen the news?" He handed over the paper to Ginny and waited for her to read the headline. "Well?"
Closing her eyes and letting out a long breath, she said, "I guess this explains why Harry didn't come home last night. I wonder what will happen now?" She met Ron's troubled stare, waiting for his response.
"Theo has to be devastated," Ron said, racing out to take back the paper. "I never would have seen this coming in a million years, Gin. This is going to rock the community for years to come."
"You're probably right about that," Ginny noted, walking back to her pantry and grabbing the coffee grounds from the middle shelf. "Maybe now we can have some peace, and Hermione can come home."
"Yeah," said Ron, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm sure Harry will send for her today, and we'll all get to celebrate the New year together."
"I can't wait to see her," Ginny replied, turning around and forcing a smile on her face.
"Sorry for barging in again," Ron told her now, retreating to the door. "I'm headed to the joke shop, but I wanted to check-in and see if you'd read the paper yet. I'll talk to you later."
"Sounds good, Ron," Ginny said with a bit of a wave. "Bye."
After Ron had gone and Ginny finally started the coffee pot, she picked up her mobile phone. Then, dialling her husband, she waited for him to answer. When he did, a genuine smile broke out on her face, but it fell as quick as it arrived. "Harry? Yeah, Ron just left. He bought it."
The day dragged slowly until finally, dusk turned dark. Hermione sat still on the sofa for most of the day aside from the few times she'd used the loo or got up to pace the floor. Her emotions were tumultuous, one minute calm and collected and the next a raging fury of worry and uneasiness. It would help if she heard some news from anyone, but no one had stopped by or even texted.
Finally, the door downstairs opened and closed before footsteps sounded on the stairs. Hermione stood and eagerly waited to see who would come through the door. She sighed with relief when Sherlock revealed himself to her after making her wait for his return since yesterday.
"Where have you been?" Hermione asked, taking a step toward the consulting detective. Her hands fluttered in front of her a moment as she tried to decide what to do with them. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, but the rational part knew that was insane. "I've been worried."
"You don't have to worry about me," Sherlock said by way of answer as he removed his scarf and coat. He set them neatly on the back of his usual chair and then turned to face Hermione. "Why are you still awake? You should be resting…." Examining her a bit closer, he added, "You look horrible tonight. Go to bed."
Hermione baulked, stepping away from Sherlock as her heart gave a lurch. "That's all you have to say to me?" She watched in annoyance as Sherlock began to walk toward the steps to go upstairs.
"What are you prattling on about now?" Sherlock asked as Hermione continued to follow him. When it was clear she wasn't going to leave him alone, he whirled around, causing her to stop short. "It has been a tediously long day, one of which started with Detective Nott and Lestrade informing me that I was no longer needed for the case." He took a few stomping steps upward before turning and glaring at her over his shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, I don't have the energy to deal with your insipid emotions tonight."
Sherlock continued upstairs until he was secured behind John's old bedroom door. Staring at the empty staircase, Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes at his unkindness. She'd thought they'd made progress, but apparently, that had been for nothing. Numbly, Hermione moved from the staircase until she was sitting in the dim light underneath the Christmas lights in Sherlock's bedroom once more.
Picking up the mobile from the nightstand table, she took a deep breath and decided that she wasn't going to sit idly by any longer. Harry's number was still there from the day before, so she hit send and put the device to her ear. She didn't have to wait long.
The door to Hermione's flat opened easily, someone having used the keys.
In the darkness, Theo sat waiting in the chair by the bookshelf overflowing with Hermione's collection. He stood and faced the wizard who had just entered.
"I was wondering when you were going to get here," Theo said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his robe. One hand held tightly to his wand and the other clenched in anger. "Now, let's have a little chat before we get started, shall we?"