Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter. Also you may have noticed this story now has a cover image. It's thanks to DreamweaverAki who took the time to draw it that I now have one! So thank you again! You did a great job!

Betas: Lady of the Shards; K from PaperPen Inc; and Kyrianae Narii for advising me on pretty much everything U.K. I should just call these three wonderful people my advisers as nothing would be completed without them. Seriously, they're awesome! :)

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! It means a lot to me as always! You guys are awesome! I love it!

Chapter 10

Mycroft's Office

The next morning, Mycroft had just walked into his office, hoping that this day would be better than the past few had been, when there was a knock on the door that he had just closed.

Mycroft considered his hand, wondering if this was an omen for the day before he mentally shook his head. He was being ridiculous. He opened the door.

"Sir," said Anthea, without waiting for him to say something, shutting the door she had just walked through, still in the clothes from yesterday. "We've got confirmation. I've set up an appointment for you at three o'clock."

Mycroft had moved to his desk as she was speaking but froze slightly in the process of sitting down for a moment, before continuing and saying, "Very well. Stock up on the chocolate – both in the car and the office – for the next couple of days. Then prepare the car. After that, take a break. I'm going to need you later but for the moment, have your second take over."

"Yes, sir," said Anthea, making the arrangements on her phone, leaving the office to continue her work and set up her trusted second to take over while she rested from her two all-nighters, grateful for the break.

221B Baker Street - John

John woke the next morning with a stiff back. He had known sleeping on the floor of the bank was going to be a killer for his shoulder though he couldn't imagine how his back would be feeling right now if Sherlock had actually taken him up on the offer last night to let him sleep on the couch and let Harry sleep in his bed.

After they had finished lunch down at Mrs. Hudson's yesterday, the three of them came back to their flat to work out sleeping arrangements, something that John wanted to do without Mrs. Hudson's input, bless her. Luckily Sherlock agreed with him.

The first thing that was decided was that Harry was going to sleep in one of their beds until they got everything situated with the other flat and John would never forget the look that crossed Harry's face at that statement. He looked hopeful and guilty all at once. Hopeful – John could only assume as Harry wasn't talking to them about it yet and John was no Sherlock – that he was going to be able to sleep on an actual bed and not some mattress that was thrown somewhere – John had no trouble believing that the Dursleys did that to him – but guilty that he was essentially throwing either John or Sherlock out of their bed. Sherlock, who usually had very little patience to reassure someone surprisingly had been rather patient with Harry, and John reassured him quickly that it wasn't a problem.

The next thing that was decided was who was going to give up their bed. This took longer to decided, not because neither John or Sherlock were unwilling to give up their bed but because both of them were willing to do it and sleep on the couch. They had actually managed to get Harry to laugh again because they kept speaking the same thing at the exact same time which John only thought possible on the telly.

Eventually, Sherlock made his argument that John had already spent one uncomfortable night on the floor in the bank and his back, shoulder and leg couldn't possibly take a second night of abuse so the only logical solution was for Sherlock to sleep on the couch and for Harry to take Sherlock's bed.

John only agreed after being allowed to check Sherlock's room for toxic substances which caused Sherlock to mumble something about not putting that kind of materials in his room where he slept. He wasn't Anderson after all. John only rose his eyebrows in the direction of their fridge and Sherlock didn't say another word and let John continue his search. Once deemed safe, the matter was settled and they showed Harry where he was sleeping, to gain some familiarity with the room to reduce the chance of him waking up in a panic in the middle of the night. John was hoping that Harry would sleep through the whole night as he knew that it wouldn't work. He distinctly remembered his own panic in unfamiliar places until he could remember where he was.

Once that was done, a tour of the rest of 221B, that they were living in so far, was in order so Harry knew where everything was. Much to John's disconcertion Harry seemed to show the most interest in their kitchen table – where Sherlock's chemistry set was setup. He could practically feel the gray hairs start to sprout especially when Sherlock decided to stop the tour and teach Harry a little elementary chemistry.

John was going to have set rules. He could see it in that moment. Or else the whole building was going to explode now that Sherlock had found a willing playmate to help and teach.

John decided to leave them to it though as he was sure Sherlock didn't have any explosive material in the flat and started to work on his blog entry, to get his thoughts together to write up his first case with Sherlock, now that he finally had the time – "A Study in Pink" sounded like a great title for it too – and to actually type it up. He was still a slow typist but he was hoping to improve with practice.

That was how they spent the afternoon until supper time when the three of them went to Angelo's and when they came back there was a bag of breakfast foods that John knew were courtesy of Mycroft due to Sherlock's scowl and mumblings of "meddling brothers" and "need to check the flat for listening devices."

John and Harry had watched Sherlock do just that for a while before Harry sat down on the couch and John, shaking his head, put away the food. There hadn't been a need to waste perfectly good food after all. When he was finished he came back into the room and saw that Harry had fallen asleep on the couch watching Sherlock, who was still looking for the listening devices, some already in his hand. John had quietly interrupted Sherlock at that point and pointed to Harry and Sherlock had stared at him for a moment before Sherlock went into his room, shoving the listening devices in John's hand as he left.

John had stared after him nonplussed, hand holding the listening devices before he dropped them on the table as John had no idea where Sherlock had found them, for a moment before Sherlock had come back in with a spare shirt, to sleep in, Sherlock said and John had to agree. Harry couldn't sleep in those clothes or in fact keep them much longer. They were going to have to go shopping soon.

After an adventure in changing Harry, and it definitely was an adventure changing Harry that required the both of them, Harry was wearing Sherlock's shirt which came down past his knees. Sherlock then carried Harry into his room, making another comment about John's injured shoulder when he offered to do it as he had been rubbing it, and laid him down for the night.

While Sherlock was doing that, John had checked his new phone and realized he had a voicemail from Lestrade saying the time he was going to stop by the flat tomorrow. He told Sherlock when he came back out of the room who just nodded in agreement.

Then by some unspoken agreement, they both got themselves ready for bed and went to sleep after their exhausting day.

After he was done reminiscing about yesterday, John decided to get up and get ready. Lestrade was coming over early and John, he was about ninety percent sure Sherlock wouldn't remember, had to feed the three people in the flat before Lestrade came. He wondered what Harry liked for breakfast…

221B Baker Street – Sherlock

Sherlock looked up at the ceiling when he heard John start to get ready for the day. He was surprised John slept so long considering how early they went to bed last night. He had been up for an hour himself already at least. Knowing John, though, he was probably laying in bed and thinking about what they did yesterday.

He went into his mind palace to escape potential emotional backlash. He refused to think that Harry had started to make him care so soon or at all. He needed to reorganize his mind palace and add new doors and wings anyways though he suspected he should wait until after Lestrade left. How dull, waiting on other people.

At that moment, he heard John come in the sitting room.

"Good morning," he said as he headed toward the kitchen.

Sherlock grunted.

"Tea?" questioned John unperturbed by his greeting.

Noise of acknowledgment.

Sherlock sat up and moved off the couch. He went and stood by the window for a moment looking out at the street below, silently contemplating about whether or not he could play his violin. He didn't know whether Harry was still sleeping after all.

His thoughts were interrupted by his bedroom opening and the sound of cautious footsteps coming out into the room. Well, that answered his question. He picked up his violin and started to softly play.

"Good morning, Harry," said John. "Juice?"

Sherlock barely controlled his snort that wanted to escape. They didn't routinely keep juice so that had to be in the bag that Mycroft's people left.

"Morning, John," said Harry, sounding cautious, and Sherlock was slightly shocked. He didn't think Harry would start to use their names so soon after telling him yesterday at dinner that it was okay to call them by their names. John, however, just smiled and Harry nodded and said, "Yes, please. Morning, Sherlock."

Sherlock bowed in acknowledgment, he didn't speak while he played, ever, and continued to play the violin as John poured the juice, handed it to Harry and then went back to making breakfast and Harry hovered between the doorway to their sitting room and the kitchen as if unsure what to do. Sherlock continued to watch Harry, who watched John, while he played.

Slowly Sherlock stopped playing as Harry began to fidget, still standing in their doorway. John looked up from what he was doing at the lack of noise.

"What's the matter?" asked John, knowing Sherlock didn't just stop playing only after a few minutes.

Sherlock didn't answer, he just looked at Harry and John followed his gaze to Harry.

Harry stopped fidgeting as both Sherlock and John stared at him.

"What's the matter?" repeated John, though this time directing it at Harry.

Harry fidgeted with his glass before he asked, looking at his glass, "What am I supposed to do?"

Sherlock caught John looking at him confused again but Sherlock had an idea of where this was going but he needed more data so he let John ask the next question.

"What?" asked John, puzzled.

"To make breakfast. What am I supposed to do? I always had to make breakfast for my aunt and uncle ever since I was tall enough to help my aunt and not burn it or myself," said Harry sounding like he was repeating someone.

As Sherlock suspected. Harry probably also had a long list of chores to do around the house and outside as well. He probably won't know what to do with himself now that he won't have to do chores. Well, more time for Sherlock to teach Harry. His gut twinged once. He really had to set some time aside to assess this feeling deeper and get more data on it.

Sherlock caught John looking at him again, with anger simmering beneath the surface of his gaze, rightfully so. No child should have to cook so young.

Luckily though John seemed to have an answer for this and was only looking at him to make sure they were both on the same thought process, he was incorrect of course, Sherlock was always steps ahead of John but he was willing to overlook it, and John said, "The only cooking you'll do here is when you are helping Mrs. Hudson with her biscuits and other treats."

Harry looked shocked and said, "Really?"

"Really," said Sherlock.

Harry frowned and said, "Well what am I suppose to do?"

Sherlock and John both frowned as well as they looked around the flat. They had nothing really that was child appropriate for him to play.

Sherlock, coming to the conclusion faster than John, said, "We'll have to buy you some toys when we go buy you some clothes as well later today."

"My own?" asked Harry.

Sherlock, coming to suspect this question, replied, without any hesitation, "Your very own."

Harry smiled at both him and John and they both returned it.

"For now," said John, "sit and watch some telly."

Sherlock sniffed and said, "There might even be something on at this time of day that won't rot your brain or fill it with useless data."

Sherlock saw Harry looked at him as if he had grown another head and John roll his eyes, turning on the telly and switching it onto something that looked like it was child appropriate.

Sherlock then watched John go back to making breakfast. He might even eat some of it, even though it was just porridge. Mycroft still had no taste in a decent breakfast food.

221B Baker Street – General

After an uneventful breakfast in which Sherlock did eat and they were all dressed, Harry back in the clothes that he was brought to Baker Street in, freshly laundered by Mrs. Hudson, and there were only a few minutes until Lestrade was due to come.

Harry was sitting back on the couch by himself, John in an armchair reading a newspaper while Sherlock paced around the flat.

"When will he get here?" asked Sherlock.

"Be patient, Sherlock," said John, "only a few more minutes."

"I've been patient all night," replied Sherlock.

John couldn't deny that. Sherlock definitely had been patient all night and hadn't tried anything though that didn't stop him from sighing.

"Sit down, Sherlock. You're making everyone nervous," said John, flipping the page, not looking up.

"You are the exact opposite of nervous," said Sherlock, looking John up and down.

"I hide my nerves better than you do," replied John, still not looking up from the paper.

"Am I making you nervous, Harry?" asked Sherlock, turning to look at Harry.

Harry looked at him, unsure.

"Don't answer that, Harry," said John, giving Harry a smile before turning to look at Sherlock with a slight frown and saying, "Don't put Harry in the middle."

"Afraid he'll take my side?" asked Sherlock.

John was saved from answering the question by the doorbell ringing and Sherlock disappearing downstairs to answer it, yelling at Mrs. Hudson that he got it.

John shook his head before he looked at Harry and said, "You'll get used to his moods. Trust me."

Harry nodded his head though he was feeling amused at their interaction.

The next second, Sherlock was coming back into their sitting room with Lestrade following him, his hands full of bags with a file under his arm. Sherlock hadn't even offered to help him.

"I'm telling you, Sherlock, it's creepy what your brother does," Lestrade was saying to Sherlock's back.

Sherlock just sat down in his chair and stared at Lestrade.

John sighed again and said, "What did Mycroft do now?"

"You mean besides leaving a mobile in the front seat of my locked car yesterday?" asked Lestrade, raising his eyebrows. "He decided to have someone leave the case report file I was going to get this morning from Scotland Yard in the same exact place as the mobile!"

John raised his eyebrow. That was definitely creepy.

"How did Mycroft even know you needed the file?" asked John.

"I woke up early because I remembered I needed to get it for Sherlock to look at. I must have said something to myself about it out loud. Boundaries, Sherlock! Boundaries are all I'm asking for. Tell your brother," said Lestrade.

Sherlock made a noise that could have been taken for an agreement.

Lestrade sighed, knowing that was the best he was going to get. He looked around the room and spotted Harry sitting on the couch and said, "Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Det-" started Harry before Lestrade interrupted him.

"You can call me, Greg, for now, Harry. Detective Inspector Lestrade is such a mouthful," said Lestrade giving Harry a wink.

Harry gave Lestrade a small smile and said, "Hello, Greg."

"Why Greg?" asked Sherlock with a curious look on his face.

Lestrade looked over at him, rolling his eyes at Sherlock's curious look, before he said, "It's my name."

Sherlock's face went blank at that.

John looked at him amused before he said, "Did you think he was just called Lestrade?"

Sherlock gave him a look and said, "Don't be ridiculous. To me, the most important part of his name was 'Inspector' why would I need anything else?"

Lestrade rolled his eyes again.

"Common courtesy," said John simply.

"Boring," said Sherlock. He then turned his eyes back to Lestrade, having moved them to look at John, and said, "Well? I assume you got everything you needed judging by the bags full of books you have, though I know my brother only wrote down one book on the piece of paper."

Lestrade neatly sidestepped the question for the moment as he set the bags down and said, "Don't you want to look at the case file first from the case that I stopped in to get your help from before we went to the bank?" He took the file from underneath his arm and held it in front of him like a lifeline.

For a moment, Sherlock looked torn. Despite his reluctance the other day, the case was intriguing but this was even more intriguing and the answers were right in front of him.

"You're stalling," said Sherlock, looking away from the file with a little bit of difficulty.

Lestrade let out a sigh now as he set the file down on the coffee table which was still cluttered and John and Harry watched him curiously. He moved over to the door that led to the steps downstairs and shut it.

"What I'm about to tell you, you can tell no one else. There are a lot of secrecy laws in effect and only those that need to know, know," said Lestrade.

"So it stays between the four of us?" asked John while Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin, watching Lestrade, looking for signs of a lie or anything else.

"Yes," said Lestrade.

"And Mycroft knows," added Sherlock and Lestrade nodded his head.

"We can't tell Mrs. Hudson?" asked Harry, wide-eyed. He had never been involved in something like this before.

"No," said Lestrade shaking his head at him. "It's very important that you don't tell her, at least for now, or anyone else."

"What?" asked Sherlock, slightly impatiently. He couldn't figure out the secret from Lestrade's body language (mildly uncomfortable but that could have been due to Sherlock's intense stare), speech (rate, pressure and tone were all normal), clothes (freshly laundered, not even dirt on his shoes) or any of his other methods.

Lestrade went over to one of the bags and took out a book, the title hidden from everyone.

He walked closer to Sherlock as he said, "This is the book that Mycroft wanted me to get yesterday, 'Modern Magical History.'"

Sherlock sat up straighter in his chair at that, John blinked as if he was sure he misheard the title while Harry gasped in surprise.

Lestrade took a deep breath as he handed the book over to Sherlock who reached out a hand to take the book, turned to look at Harry and said, "You're a wizard, Harry."

Mycroft's Office

Several hours, reports, missions directives and top secret meetings later, which was business as usual, there was a knock on Mycroft's door.

"Enter," said Mycroft.

"Sir," said Anthea, walking in the office, in a different outfit and looking refreshed.

"Anthea, you're looking refreshed," said Mycroft, nodding. He needed his assistant in top form.

"Thank you, sir," said Anthea.

"What's the news," said Mycroft, putting his pen down that he had just used to sign his name.

"He's survived," said Anthea, simply.

"I see," said Mycroft pensively. "Make time in the schedule this week so we can visit him while he is still in the hospital."

"Yes, sir," said Anthea making a notation on her phone. She looked up and continued, "Also, Detective Inspector Lestrade is at Baker Street right now with several bags full of books and a case file. According to the device in his mobile, he is beginning to tell Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John Watson and Harry Potter everything that he knows."

Mycroft was quiet for a moment before he said, "Understood." That obviously concludes his business here until his meeting. "Make sure the driver is ready to go to Baker Street. It's time to leave."

"Yes, sir," said Anthea nodding her head, leaving the office to do just that.

Mycroft leaned back in his chair, thinking. 'Everything's about to change.'

A/N2: So it's been a year since I've started this story... And what a year right? Seriously this is the most I've written for a story like this as I usually loose inspiration for stories and/or just stop writing. I seriously feel accomplished. The next chapter we will find out the reactions of Lestrade's little bomb...