"So, have we got a plan?" asked John, as the group made their way back downstairs to the TARDIS.
"Yeah," said Gene, loading his gun. "We go in there, and kick their arses back to Hell where they're supposed to be."
"I don't think it'll be that easy," said Harry. "Voldemort alone makes this incredibly dangerous, not to mention all the Death Eaters he's probably bringing back as we speak. Lestrange is bad enough, but…"
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" asked Sherlock. "Death Eaters?"
"It's what Voldemort's followers call themselves," said Harry.
"Just call them wizard Nazis," said Sherlock. "That way we all know what you're talking about."
"I knew what he was talking about," said the Doctor, opening the door to the TARDIS.
"So did I," said Mary.
"Even I figured out what he meant through context," said John.
"Quiet John," started Sherlock, as the group finished getting onto the TARDIS.
"Okay Ginny, Molly, if you guys can round up some DA or Order members, we'll meet you in London soon," said Harry.
"Where abouts in London?" asked Molly.
"If things go the way I think they're going to go, I suspect you'll figure it out pretty quick," said Hermione.
"See you soon Harry," said Ginny. "Don't die on me."
"Don't intend to," said Harry.
"What about me?" asked Ron.
"You too, I suppose," said Ginny dismissively.
"What do you mean, you suppose?" asked Ron, as the door to the TARDIS closed.
"So, here's the situation as I see it," said Mary, standing at the controls to the TARDIS. "The Resurrection Stone has been supercharged to bring people back from the dead. To our knowledge, they are just as they were from moments before their death."
"How do you know that?" asked Sherlock.
"We've had reports that people brought back who died of things like cancer or old age have died within minutes of their revival," said Mary. "Meanwhile, if cause of death was something less natural, like drowning or a car crash, the revived seem to be okay, as long as they were in good health immediately prior to their death."
"Okay, so all we have to do is get our hands on the Stone, and destroy it, right?" asked Martha.
"Oh, if only it were that simple," said Mary. "Because unfortunately, that little stunt on the bridge wasn't just to try and kill the lot of you. It was to show each of your enemies what the rest of you look like."
"Well, I hope they got a good look at what's coming to 'em," said Gene. "Because there's a whole lot more where that came from."
"As confident as you may be, Mr. Hunt, I also find it doubtful that any of you will be able to get anywhere near the Stone," said Mary. "Given how organised our enemy is, I wouldn't be surprised if they've also got me on their list."
"So we get someone else to go in," said John. "Harry, do you think your wife would…"
"I'm going to stop you right there," said Mary. "I have no doubt that Voldemort's forces will know most, if not all, of Mr. Potter's friends, family, and acquaintances. Something that probably applies to all of you."
"That does put us in an awkward position," said the Doctor. "But I assume you have a possible solution?"
"Of course I do," said Mary, pulling out a vial of liquid. "I'm sure our wizarding friends might be familiar with this stuff?"
"Polyjuice potion," said Hermione. "You mean…"
"Yes," said Mary. "We disguise one of you as someone else, get the Stone, and get out of there."
"Okay, but I don't think this Master guy is just going to let us waltz out of there with the Stone," said Ron. "Unless you also have a fake one for us to switch with it?"
"Of course I do," said Mary, pulling the fake Stone out of her bag. "Honestly Mr. Weasley, did you expect any less from me?"
"I guess not," muttered Ron, as Mary continued talking.
"So, we have a battleplan," said Mary. "Next, we need a volunteer."
"I'm still lost," said Sherlock. "What exactly is this Polyjuice Potion?"
"Ah, Mr. Holmes, good to see you stepping up," said Mary.
"No, seriously, what have I just signed up for?" asked Sherlock.
"Polyjuice Potion is a special potion capable of changing your appearance to that of another person," explained Hermione. "Though fair warning: it doesn't taste the best."
"Sounds highly illegal," said Sherlock.
"It is," said Harry casually.
"Then why have people from the wizarding government…" started Sherlock.
"You know, let's not get into that," said Ron dismissively.
"I feel like that's something that needs to be addressed," said Sherlock, though the others ignored him.
"So, what do the rest of us do?" asked Gene. "Because personally, I'm not a fan of letting Mr. Holmes here get all the glory of stealing the Stone while we sit back in a spaceship twiddling our thumbs."
"That's why you need to be nearby causing a ruckus," said Mary.
"…and suddenly you have my undivided attention," said Gene.
"Same here," said the Doctor. "What kind of trouble do you want us getting into?"
"The main point is to draw the bad guys out," said Mary. "I'm particularly concerned about Voldemort and his followers, though Missy and Blofeld are also concerning."
"I assume we just start firing in the air outside?" asked James. "I mean, most of us have guns, though how legal any of them are…"
"That's not important," said Sherlock dismissively.
"I suppose that would work in getting rid of other patrons waiting to revive their loved ones," said Mary. "My concern would be possibly harming nearby civilians, as well as blowing our cover by suddenly showing up without Mr. Holmes nearby."
"Then what do you…" started Martha.
"Excellent Miss Jones, thank you for volunteering," said Mary.
"…wait, what?" asked Martha. "What have I volunteered for?"
"To be Mr. Holmes, of course," said Mary.
"…HUH?!" asked Martha. "How can I be Mr. Holmes? In case of haven't noticed, he's a white man, and I'm a black woman."
"I must share my concerns with Miss Jones," said Sherlock. "How exactly will she pass as…OW!" As Sherlock was talking, Mary ripped a few hairs out of Sherlock's head.
"How else?" asked Mary, sprinkling Sherlock's hair into the potion. "Both of you will take Polyjuice Potion, and throw our enemies off our tail."
"Wait, why do they both have to take it?" asked Ron. "Why not just give it to Martha, and have Sherlock in the distraction with us?"
"Because," said Mary, putting a different set of hair into another vial of Polyjuice. "Mr. Holmes has more experience acting as someone else in a tense situation without blowing his cover, so of all of you he's the most likely to get in and out without the enemy realising what's happening. Meanwhile, the Doctor wouldn't let Martha get in the middle of a dangerous fight if he can help it, so it would make sense for her to be absent in this fight."
"I still don't entirely agree with her being in this fight either," said the Doctor.
"Neither do I," said Martha. "I mean, what am I even supposed to do in the battle? I don't know the first thing about pretending to be Sherlock."
"For that, I'm counting on the chaos of the battle to disguise that you're not really contributing," said Mary. "Just be clearly present and stay out of the way."
"You…you planned it this way, didn't you?" asked Sherlock, realising what had just happened. "Even before we got back on the TARDIS."
"And so what if I did?" asked Mary. "I'm responsible for the safety and security of the world, and that means trying to stay two steps ahead of the enemy. Now, drink up." Mary forced the vials of Polyjuice Potion into Sherlock and Martha's hands, and looked at them expectantly.
"Who exactly am I turning into?" asked Sherlock.
"Some old lady I grabbed some hairs from," said Mary dismissively. "Come on, we don't have all day."
"Actually, since we're in a time machine…" started the Doctor.
"Not now, Doctor," said Mary.
"Well, bottoms up," said Martha, downing the Polyjuice Potion in a single swig. "Ugh, I see what you mean about this stuff."
"Not exactly encouraging for me," said Sherlock, who sighed before also downing his potion. "That really isn't good."
"I think I'm going to be sick," said Martha, holding a hand over her mouth.
"No throwing up on the TARDIS," said the Doctor. "I don't know where the buckets are."
"It's your bloody ship," said Gene.
"Yeah, but sometimes it has a mind of its own," said the Doctor.
"Um, guys?" asked John, watching Sherlock and Martha. "Is this normal?"
"Yeah, this is pretty standard," said Hermione. "I've actually never seen Polyjuice used on a muggle, so I'm just glad things seem to be going smoothly."
"THIS is smoothly?" asked Sherlock, as his hands began to wrinkle.
"Just be glad you didn't end up as a catgirl, like someone I could mention," said Ron, casting a glance at Hermione. Hermione glared at him, before punching him in the arm.
"Okay Doctor, let us know when we arrive at the…" started Mary.
"Oh, we arrived ages ago," said the Doctor. "One of the many benefits of being in a time machine, you know."
"And you waited until now to tell me?" asked Mary.
"You didn't ask," said the Doctor.
Mary sighed, then straightened up. "Okay, does everyone knows their roles? Let's get to work."
"Who's next on our list?" asked Keats, watching a young couple leave the room, the man surprised to be alive again.
"That would be…Miss Dorothy Brown," said Moriarty, looking up from his sheet of paper. "Mr. Blofeld, could you let our next guest in?"
Blofeld sighed as he got up from behind his desk. "I don't know how you convinced me to be your receptionist," he muttered as he opened the door. "Miss Brown?"
An elderly woman, wearing a thick jacket and her face almost covered by a scarf, got up from her seat. "It's Ms, actually," she said. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here."
"Apologies, madam," said Blofeld, leading her into the room.
The woman shuffled into the room, and seemed to pause when her eyes landed on Moriarty. "Not exactly what I was expecting for someone's revival," she said, glancing around the rather bare warehouse.
"Yeah, well, we kind of had to do this on short notice," said Moriarty, picking up a bucket as her approached her. "Now, Miss Brown…"
"Ms," corrected Dorothy.
"Before we begin, we have one thing we need to do," said Moriarty. Before anyone could say anything, Moriarty threw the contents of the bucket, which appeared to be water, over Dorothy. Dorothy stared at him in shock for a moment, then slapped him.
"How dare you, young man," snapped the old woman. "Splashing an old woman like that. Why I never…"
"Apologies madam," said Moriarty. "The bucket contains a special water to expose disguises."
"Oh, this is a disguise, is it?" snapped Dorothy. "Why would I want to look like an old crone? Wouldn't I try to look a little younger if I was going to disguise myself?"
"Perhaps," admitted Moriarty. "Though we do have the strong belief that there are some wizards who want to steal the stone. This water can break through their illusions."
"Well, it didn't work, clearly," said Dorothy, getting up in Moriarty's face. "You want to double check?"
"I think we'll believe you," said Moriarty, backing away a little. "Now, who would you like to revive?"
"My late husband," said Dorothy. "Robert Brown."
"Okay Mr. Brown," said Moriarty, guiding her to a seat. "Now, just get comfortable here, and…" As he spoke, he began to reach for a small box, when suddenly there was a loud explosion from outside.
"What on God's green Earth was that?" demanded Dorothy, sounding more annoyed than worried.
"Blofeld, check that out, will you?" asked Keats dismissively.
"Seriously, how did I end up as your servant in all this?" asked Blofeld, who still went to the door to check things out.
"Now, as I was saying Miss Brown," said Moriarty, again reaching for the box. "All you have to do is…"
"It's Ms," corrected Dorothy.
"Whatever," said Moriarty, getting impatient. "All you have to do is…"
"Gentlemen, we have company," said Blofeld, running back into the room.
"Can it wait a minute while I bring back my husband?" asked Dorothy.
"Hold on a second Miss Brown," said Keats, which Dorothy responded with a 'Ms'. "What kind of company?"
"The company that we don't want here," said Blofeld. "You know exactly who I'm referring to, right?"
"Well, tell them to wait their turn," said Dorothy, reaching for the box Moriarty was holding. "I have to…"
"Oh, and also this," said Blofeld, opening the door wider to reveal…
…Dorothy Brown. Or at least, someone who looked just like her.
"Ah, Betty, my twin sister," said Dorothy, as though this was a normal situation. "I guess you decided to bring back Michael then? Well, just let me bring back Robert, and…"
"Who the hell are you?" demanded 'Dorothy'. "My name is Emily Baker, and I have no sister."
"Oh, that's just your Alzheimer's kicking in," said Dorothy dismissively. "Now, if you will just…"
"Okay, I can solve this really quickly," said Moriarty, picking up another bucket of special water. He threw the liquid over Emily, and…
…nothing changed. Emily slapped him for his efforts, and began a tirade of horrible words directed at him. "Wow, I guess they really are sisters," he said, ignoring the old woman.
"Oh, for God's sake," said Keats, who marched up to Dorothy and ripped away the scarf covering her face…
…only to reveal Sherlock with elderly makeup on his face. "See? There's your problem," said Keats, pulling his gun in the detective, Blofeld and Moriarty doing the same.
"Oh please," said Sherlock calmly. "This isn't even close to the most guns ever pointed at me."
"Oh, I know," said Moriarty. "But that doesn't mean it won't kill you just as fast."
"Maybe so," said Sherlock with a shrug. "How about I just hand you the Stone back, and I'll be…"
"How dumb do you think we are?" snapped Keats. "We get a hostage, and you think we're just going to hand you over?"
"I was just going to kill him," said Blofeld.
"Hey, if anyone's going to kill him, it's me," said Moriarty.
"Nobody's going to kill him," said a woman's voice, and the group turned to see Missy walk into the room with Voldemort. "Tommy here has brought back an expert with torture for us, and I fully intend to use her."
"Do not call me Tommy," said Voldemort, clearly annoyed.
"Oh, settle down Voldy," said Missy dismissively. "You can have a turn with him too."
"That's still not my…" started Voldemort, but Missy wasn't listening to him.
"So, Mr. Holmes, how does it feel to be a bargaining chip?" asked Missy, followed by an evil laugh.
"That's way too stereotypical," sighed Sherlock as he was led away.