Author's Note: And so after nearly three years, this story has finally come to a close. Many thanks and love to all that have stuck it out with me on this journey. Also, as always, thank you to any new readers that have joined along the way. I hope that you've enjoyed this tale and will enjoy the ending as well. 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.
1 January 2019
The sun had barely risen, yet Theo had not slept a wink. He'd been sitting alone in the Atrium of the Ministry as he waited to hear the verdict on his husband's case. Running a hand over his weary face, Theo thought about how Blaise was still sitting alone in Azkaban, accused of horrible crimes against his fellow witches and wizards. What he'd done still weighed heavy on Theo's mind even now.
Lifting his face to the clock on the wall, Theo saw that it would soon be time for the Wizengamot to have an answer to this hell they'd all been through. Had it really been nearly two weeks since this all began? It had… And he was even more astounded that he'd survived this ordeal, especially considering who he found entering Hermione's flat just mere days ago...
Hermione's flat door opened easily, someone having used the keys.
Theo sat waiting in the chair by the bookshelf overflowing with Hermione's collection in the darkness. 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?"
"Well, bugger," Marcus Flint sneered as he shut the door behind him. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here."
"That much was obvious by the fact that your wife thought you were with Goyle and Malfoy," Theo said, rising from where he'd been sitting.
"Would you believe me if I told you that Granger had given me a set of keys?" Marcus asked, taking a step toward the MLE agent.
"I know Hermione better than that," Theo said as he too took a step forward. "She has never given a set of keys to anyone. Not even Potter."
"Thought I'd give it a try," Flint said with a shrug. He smirked, then, reaching into his robes and produced his wand. "I was hoping to find Granger here."
"Why would she be here?" Theo said and then shook his head. "Other than the fact that this is her home."
Flint was careful to keep Theo in his sights as he perused Hermione's living room. "Well, she never checked into St. Mungo's, and there were no records of her at any of the Muggle hospitals. I thought after taking a beating as she had, she'd be resting someplace."
"It was you that hurt her." Theo glared at his former friend, his own wand now in hand.
"Come now, Nott. We both know that's why you're here," Flint said, stopping and facing him once more. "Although, I did find it interesting that you put your own husband behind bars for a crime he didn't commit."
"He knew your alibi was fake," Theo said, his heart breaking to admit it aloud to this monster. "He let me believe he was innocent."
"Pft," Flint swiped away Theo's words. "He is innocent. If you consider him seeing me going into Muggle London instead of using the floo to be with Goyle and Malfoy guilty, then there should be a lot more people behind bars than there currently are now." When Theo said nothing, Flint added, "You're reading too much into this. Your husband is innocent, idiot. I'm the one you want."
Ignoring the rush of relief over Blaise having no genuine part in this debacle, Theo said, "I have to ask why, Flint. Why are you doing this? Why Hermione?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Flint sneered, his dark eyes flashing. "That Mudblood is about to become the next Minister for Magic. Everyone knows it! If that happens, our kind will become the laughing stock of the wizarding world. I will not stand idly by with a Mudblood in power."
Fury erupted in Theo's chest, unlike ever before, as he gripped his wand harder. "You bloody piece of shite-" he'd gone to take a step toward Flint but stopped when the wizard growled.
"Take one more fucking step, Nott, and you'll be the next to die," Flint hissed out and then laughed maniacally. "I'd never meant to kill Creevey, but the bastard caught me searching through Granger's magical purse. I never did figure out how she bewitched the bloody thing, but Creevey got what any snooping bastard deserved."
"You're insane," Theo breathed out, his head whittling at what had just been revealed. "Absolutely insane."
"Am I? I don't think so," Flint said, stalking toward Theo once more. "I think I'm saner than you or the other brainwashed fucks at the Ministry who think someone born from Muggle trash could ever be worthy of running our world." A cruel smile appeared on his thin, crooked lips. "And now I'm going to kill you too before I go and find where Granger is being kept." He raised his hand, an unforgivable on his lips, but he never got the chance.
"Stupefy!" Theo yelled, the spell shooting forward and hitting Flint squarely in the chest. The former Quidditch player slammed into Hermione's bookshelf and tumbled to the floor in a lifeless heap. A book or two tumbled down on top of him, and only after Theo checked to make sure he was definitely out cold did he breathe a sigh of relief.
The horror that had plagued their world was finally over…
His reminiscing was cut short as Harry hurried toward him, his face pale from exhaustion. "Nott? Hey, you there?" He waved his hand in front of his friend's face.
Shaking himself slightly, Theo said, "Yeah, I'm here. Just thinking about everything is all."
Harry placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed. "Listen, I know it's been crazy, but everything is over now." Here, he smiled. "The Wizengamot has convicted Flint on all charges and cleared Blaise of his. Your husband is a free man."
Tears sprang to Theo's eyes as he jumped to his feet. Then, without thinking, he embraced Harry in a hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him in his relief. Harry hugged him back without a word, allowing his friend the comfort he so clearly needed. When they parted, both were a bit misty-eyed.
Clearing his throat, Harry said, "What do you say we go and rescue Hermione?"
Theo laughed and shook his head. "As much as I adore that witch, I think I better head on out to Azkaban and wait for my husband to be released."
"You know what, that's a better idea," Harry replied, smiling. "I'll see you on Monday after we both get some rest with our loved ones."
"Sounds like a plan and Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," Theo said, sighing with relief, "for being here with me through all of this."
"Hell, if it wasn't for you, we never would have figured out Flint was lying," Harry said in seriousness. "This could have gone much worse."
Instead of saying anything else, Theo nodded. He gave a wave and then hurried off to the floo area. He wanted to be the first person Balise saw when he was set free...
"Hermione?!"
Slowly, Hermione felt pulled from the comfort of sleep. Sherlock's body was still snug against her, his hand holding her tightly against him. But something pulled her from her dreams… Dreams where she and Sherlock were together and happy, and this entire ordeal was over. She was going to let herself go back to sleep when she heard it again, finally knowing it hadn't been part of her dream.
"Hermione? Are you here?"
Fully awake now, Hermione gasped. Sherlock, too, must have heard the person calling because he was instantly up and out of bed. Thankfully, he had enough sense to throw on his blue dressing gown before disappearing through the doorway. Hermione quickly crawled to the edge of the bed and slid to her feet before wrapping herself in his spare. Sherlock was already halfway to the living room, apparently eager to find out who was calling so early in the morning.
"Who are you?" the voice came again, and Hermione paused while tying the sash.
"Harry!?" Moving quickly now, she exited the bedroom and ran down the hall. She nearly rammed right into the back of Sherlock, who was standing frozen in the doorway. She peered around his tall form to find her best friend standing in the middle of the front room, a panicked look on his face.
"Harry! Oh my goodness, thank Merlin, you're here!" She rushed around Sherlock and all but threw herself into his waiting arms. Tears poured down her face as he hugged her carefully and then released her to have a better look.
"Hermione, you're a sight for sore eyes. How are you? Are you feeling better?" Harry held her at arm's length, checking her over and trying to make sure she was all in one piece. "You look so much better than I imagined."
"Yes," Hermione breathed, so full of relief at seeing a familiar face. "I'm much better. I wish I'd known you were coming. I would have been awake." She blushed then, reminded suddenly of Sherlock and why she'd still been fast asleep. Biting her lip, she peered over her shoulder to find the consulting detective standing in the same place. "Uh, Harry, this is Sherlock Holmes. This is his flat."
Harry smiled, obviously not minding that Sherlock was in his dressing gown. He stepped forward and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Harry Potter. Thank you for allowing Hermione to stay here while we managed to get everything cleared up."
Sherlock looked at his hand and then to Hermione before finally taking hold and shaking once. He dropped his hand and then took a breath. "You're here to take her back to your world," he said by way of greeting.
Hermione frowned when Harry gave her a strange look. Something wasn't right with that statement, and she felt her heart start to race as panic rose. "What do you mean?" she asked him, taking a single step toward her best friend. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him release his wand from the holster in his sleeve.
"I think I have known for quite some time that while you appear normal enough, there was something else lingering beneath the surface. Your comment from just now confirms it," Sherlock explained, crossing his arms and staring at her intently.
"My comment?" Hermione really had no idea what he was talking about.
"Merlin."
"Oh…" She trailed off, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. She'd done so well not to use that exclamation, but in her excitement, she'd slipped. Sighing, she turned to Harry, a sad smile playing on her lips. "I have to tell him."
With his keen eyes, Harry observed his best friend and then Sherlock. Noting their state of dress, amongst other things, he closed his eyes. "Damn it, Hermione. After all this time, you finally allow your heart to love, and it has to be now..." He said it in jest, though, one hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder. "Fine. Go on, but make it quick. The Minister wants to meet with you this morning before the press gets hold of the news. I'll be waiting outside."
Hermione waited until Harry was gone before turning back to Sherlock. He was looking at her with expectant eyes, his jaw tense in anticipation. Sighing heavily, she ran both hands through her messy curls and decided it was easier to just come out and say it. "Sherlock, I've been keeping a secret from you and everyone else not because I wanted to, but because it's against the law of my people to just randomly reveal it unless absolutely necessary."
"Go on," Sherlock said, turning and beginning to head back to the bedroom.
Confused, Hermione blinked at his retreating form for a second before hurrying after him. In the bedroom, Sherlock removed his dressing gown to replace it with everyday clothing. He paid her no mind as she stood in the doorway. "Okay... This is going to make me sound absolutely insane, but I'm actually a witch and not one you would dress up as for Halloween."
Sherlock paused as he was pulling up his trousers, his frown deepening. When he came to some conclusion, he finished dressing before meeting her stare. "You can do magic."
"Yes." Hermione bit her lip, watching as Sherlock buttoned his shirt and tucked it in. "I can do magic if I have my wand, that is." He was standing there staring at her, his beautiful eyes now reading her like an open book. She felt utterly exposed under his scrutiny. "But I lost it when I was attacked. I could have healed myself and been on my way ages ago if I had it. I'm so sorry for keeping that from you, but I had no choice, and Harry couldn't come to get me with the other attacks happening."
"Other attacks." Now, Sherlock moved, striding forward and brushing past her to the living room. She again followed, finding him staring at the mess of papers and photographs that littered the apartment from his current case. "These were related to your magical world."
"Yes," she answered hesitantly. "Harry and I work for what is known as the Ministry of Magic. He is an Auror specialising in finding Dark wizards, and I am part of the Magical Law Enforcement. We keep our world safe and, well, a secret."
"A wizarding police officer," Sherlock said with a smirk, turning to look at her. "That is how you knew how to help with the case."
"I do this all the time," she said with a smile, gesturing at his work. "You and I are quite similar when it comes to solving cases."
Stepping away from the table, Sherlock came to stand in front of Hermione. He took her chin in his hand and stared down into her eyes. "You have lied to me, though I find I cannot be angry with you." He dropped his hand as another frown formed on his face. Stepping away from her, he said, "However, I am afraid you are about to be quite furious with me."
"What? Why?" Confused, Hermione stood there watching as Sherlock walked over to the mantle. Shuffling around the mail and skull, he slid the tip of his finger into a crack at the edge of the wall. With wide eyes, Hermione watched as a wand, her wand, was pushed into view. Without a word, he walked over and handed it to her. "This is my wand," she said breathlessly, accepting it from him and holding it close to her chest.
"I found it in your coat that first night you were here," he admitted and then turned away from her again. He entered the kitchen, taking a seat at the table to pull his microscope towards him.
Feeling a burst of anger, Hermione gripped her wand and cast clothes upon herself. Sherlock paid her use of magic no mind, picking up a sample to examine on the microscope. "You had my wand the whole damn time I was here and never thought to mention it to me?"
"I was afraid you were a criminal," Sherlock said simply, not looking her way at all. "I knew not what it was."
"A criminal?!" Hermione threw her free hand up into the air as she stormed into the kitchen. "I was beaten to within an inch of my life, and you bloody well thought I was a criminal?"
"I am careful these days." Now he did throw her a quick glance. "Besides, you were not near death. If that was the case, John would have immediately called for an ambulance. Even I know that."
He wouldn't look up from the microscope again, and Hermione felt her heartbreaking. It was stupid, but that was how she felt. She'd spent two weeks in this flat getting to know Mrs Hudson, John, Mary, and Rosie, and yet, Sherlock was still proving a bloody mystery to her. Even after last night. Hermione knew she was relatively closed off herself, but she'd hoped Sherlock wouldn't be just another notch on her wand. She hoped he was something more, but now she wasn't so sure.
"All this time, I just wanted to know who you really were…." She trailed off, throat clogged with emotion. "I thought maybe there was something…." Nope. She stopped, opened her mouth and then closed it again. She wasn't going to do this. She didn't want to make false declarations if this was meant to be how it ended. Sighing, she tucked away her wand and moved to the living room, where her coat was still hung on the chair. She put it on and turned to say farewell. "You know what, never mind. Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes."
"Goodbye, Hermione Granger."
Sherlock made no attempt to glance her way as he said this, and so, with a heavy heart, Hermione walked out the door and down the stairs. With every step she took, her chest ached something fierce, but it wasn't from her healing ribs. No, it was from something else, but she could do nothing about that. Down here, Mrs Hudson had already taken down the Christmas lights, but that was okay. The darkness was where she felt she belonged right now anyway.
"Theo?"
Blaise's face broke into a broad grin at the sight of his husband standing in the release room. He rushed forward and allowed himself to be enveloped in the most welcoming embrace he'd ever felt. He didn't seem to care that tears were streaming from his eyes as the Azkaban guards stared at them.
When they finally broke apart, he said, "You're a sight for sore eyes if ever there was one."
"I love you so much, Blaise," Theo said, struggling to speak through his emotions. "Can you ever forgive me?"
"You did what you had to do," Blaise replied, leaning forward and capturing his husband's lips in a kiss. "I cannot fault you for doing your job. I would have done the same. I'm sorry for withholding information."
"It's fine," Theo said, holding tightly to Blaise's hands. "Let's not worry about it anymore and go home. Unfortunately, we didn't get to spend New Year's Eve together, but I intend to enjoy the rest of this day with the love of my life."
Blair smiled and allowed Theo to lead him out of the wizarding prison. As they were boarding the small boat that would take them back to shore, he asked, "How did you trick Flint into coming out of hiding?"
"That was all Potter's doing," Theo explained as they began the rough trek back to shore. "He asked Ginny to leak a fake story to the Prophet about you being the killer." At Blaise's startled face, he hastened to add, "Don't worry. A retraction is already being printed as we speak. Ginny took care of everything, even risking her job at the paper so you and Hermione could come home safely."
"I'm going to need a stiff drink," Blaise said, smiling despite the situation.
"Me too, love. Me too."
Harry stood waiting by the cab, but Hermione could not go to him for some reason. On the doorstep of 221B, Hermione felt more conflicted than ever before. Something had changed within her during her time spent with Sherlock. Dragging her teeth over her bottom lip, she looked at Harry, who was waving her on, and then back inside the flat. Sherlock hadn't followed her downstairs, choosing instead to remain seated at his microscope in the kitchen.
Knowing that she needed to return to her world, Hermione took a shuddering breath and a step down onto the pavement. Inside, her heart ached, more so than when her ribs had been newly broken. Swallowing, she took another step toward Harry, somehow knowing that if she left now, she would never see Sherlock again. Stumbling to a stop, she felt the sob bubbling up inside of her before she could force it down. Harry's face fell, but she held up a hand so he wouldn't come to her.
"Harry, I-" Unable to speak, she just shook her head as tears formed in her eyes. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay. With Sherlock…
She didn't have to say anything further. Finally, her friend seemed to understand. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he opened the door to the cab. "Hermione, it's okay. I understand." He sighed, sliding into the cab and staring out the door at her. "Take the time you need. Kingsley can wait… We'll all be waiting when you're ready to return to us."
Hermione hesitated… How could she just skirt her responsibilities and stay here with Sherlock? What was she thinking? As if realising she was second-guessing herself even further, Harry laughed, drawing her attention to him. "Are you sure? It's just that Sherlock and I… We-"
"Hermione," he said with bright eyes. "Go. You Deserve to find whatever happiness awaits you back in that flat."
"Thank you, Harry. I promise I'll see you soon," she said with relief before turning on her heel and dashing back up the few steps and into 221B. Ignoring the lingering pain from her fading injuries, she raced up the stairs and quickly turned left so she could enter the kitchen.
Sherlock was precisely where she left him, eyes peering through the microscope with such intensity there was no way he even knew she could be standing there. Torn between bursting into tears for reasons unknown and catching her breath, Hermione shuffled forward and observed his still form.
His shoulders were tense, back just a tad too straight, and that was all the indication she needed that he knew she was really there. Hermione had to see if he felt this too, whatever it was that she currently felt brewing between them. Was it love? Perhaps, but she felt like it was more profound than that.
"Sherlock?" she tried, placing a hand on his shoulder. Their initial farewell had been so abrupt, so awkward, that she was sure he'd ignore her entirely. "Sherlock, please. Look at me."
Something in her plea must have stirred him, for after taking a shuddering breath of his own, he lifted his head and peered over his shoulder. His eyes were shining as if he, too, had been near tears, but that was ridiculous. Wasn't it? Why would the great Sherlock Holmes cry over her departure? She didn't have the time to think on it as he rose from his chair and carded a hand through her curls.
"You didn't go with your friend." She nodded, so he continued. "Why?"
"I think you know why." Placing her hand on his chest, she gazed up into his face, losing herself in his sea-coloured eyes. "There's something about you that I can't explain, but it draws me in. I want to discover what that is."
Sherlock leaned into her touch, his eyes searching Hermione's for deception, though he found none. "You would stay simply to learn more about me?"
Hermione laughed lightly, shaking her head as she moved her hand to cup his cheek. "No, Sherlock, don't you see? It's more than your enigmatic nature. I want to stay because I think I'm falling in love with you, and I want to know if you'll fall with me."
Sherlock merely blinked, and for a second, Hermione thought he would shy away from her declaration. But, instead, he took her by surprise, surging forward and capturing her lip. He kissed her with far more adoration than last night's desperation. Hermione let herself go, wanting nothing more than to remain with Sherlock forever in this moment. It appeared the acerbic man felt the same as she, his kisses full of passion and something, dare she say it, more.
It no longer mattered that they were from different worlds, they had found one another, and together their love would light the way to a future brighter than either could have wished for that holiday season.
Fin.