Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter.

Betas: Lady of the Shards and Kyrianae Narii for advising me on pretty much everything U.K.

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Chapter 13

221B Baker Street – General

Before anyone in the room could say anything to that statement, a voice from the doorway interrupted them, again, and said, "You are much more than that Mister Potter."

Sherlock, John, Lestrade, Molly and Harry looked towards the doorway and saw Mycroft standing there, leaning on his umbrella.

"The creepy man with the umbrella," whispered Harry to himself, the movement of his mouth unable to be read by anyone as it was blocked by his hands, but Sherlock and John were able to hear him as they were sitting right next to him.

"Go away, Mycroft," said Sherlock, waving a dismissive hand at his brother though with a smirk on his face as John snorted, not even bothering to wonder how he missed Mycroft walking into his flat for now – Molly and Lestrade being much more interesting.

Mycroft looked like he was barely controlling his facial muscles from making a face at his brother but he couldn't help the eyebrow raise as he said, "Nice to see you again, Sherlock."

"Didn't we fill our monthly quota for meeting each other yesterday?" asked Sherlock.

"If only," said Mycroft.

"Shame," said Sherlock.

"I'm getting a real sense of the sibling love," said John to Lestrade and Molly, very sarcastically causing Lestrade to snort and Molly to quirk her lips for a second before looking at Mycroft nervously while Harry watched everyone.

"You're not from the Ministry are you?" asked Molly.

"Ministry?" asked John.

"No," said Sherlock at the same time.

Mycroft didn't answer. Instead, he said, "May I have the pleasure of knowing who you are?"

Sherlock's eyebrows rose and he asked, "You mean you don't know?"

Mycroft didn't say anything to him.

Sherlock smiled at his brother and said, "I'm making a special place in my mind palace for this. The day you don't know everything."

Mycroft was unable to stop the eye roll though he looked at Molly, waiting for her answer.

"Doctor Molly Hooper," said Molly.

Mycroft inclined his head and said, "You met Sherlock at Saint Bartholomew's."

It wasn't a question though Molly confirmed the statement by nodding her head and said, "In the morgue."

Mycroft didn't look surprised at the added statement. His brother met people in what normal people considered strange places.

"And are you a –" Mycroft started before he stopped himself.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. Mycroft never willingly stopped speaking for anyone.

"A what?" asked Molly.

John, Lestrade and Harry stared at Mycroft as well, wondering why Mycroft stopped speaking. It wasn't like him and even Harry could tell this after knowing him a few hours.

Mycroft didn't answer. He just continued to look at Molly, waiting for her answer.

Sherlock examined his brother, knowing him better than everyone else in the room, trying to get an idea as to why he stopped, for once having no idea. Then Mycroft made brief eye contact with him and he understood.

"He's asking if you're a witch, Molly," said Sherlock.

"How do you know that?" asked Molly, Lestrade and John at once, looking at Sherlock. Harry looked impressed.

Sherlock looked at all of them not saying a word.

"Right," said John.

Mycroft rejoined the conversation and said, "Doctor Hooper?"

Molly turned back to Mycroft and said, "Yeah?"

Mycroft prayed for patience as he sighed and asked, "Are you?"

Molly blushed and said, "Umm… Yes. Yes, I am."

"And you were helping the Detective Inspector explain?"

"Yes," said Molly still blushing.

"That's good," said Mycroft looking for a place to sit.

"You're not staying," said Sherlock at once, knowing what his brother was looking for.

"Alas, dear brother, I can help Doctor Hooper and the Detective Inspector explain," said Mycroft, resigning himself to pull a chair in from the kitchen area and sitting on it. He knew he would be of very little help to the Detective Inspector and Doctor Hooper explaining but maybe he could gather more information on that night to help prepare him for who he was facing. Doctor Hooper, after all, was a surprise. A surprise, which, fortunately, was going to cause him to look closer at his people doing background checks on everyone coming in contact with Sherlock, - and now Doctor Watson and Mister Harry Potter as well - so maybe unfortunately for those people.

"Don't let us keep you from your prior engagement," said Sherlock knowing that his brother had business elsewhere and his flat was a pit stop.

"It's not until later," said Mycroft. "Plenty of time for my help." He sat down in the chair he just brought in, hating the legwork but knowing his brother would not do it. Mycroft looked back to Molly and asked, "Is this room secure?"

"Uh yes. At least as far as I could make it," said Molly, wondering why she was suddenly nervous. It must be because of this man – Mycroft who was Sherlock's brother, judging from their conversation – reminded her of certain employees of the Ministry of Magic.

Mycroft acknowledged what Molly said with a tilt of his head, having been on the receiving end of the annoying buzzing sound when he first entered the premise, unable to hear anything upstairs until he stepped across the doorway into the actual flat. Everyone sat in silence awkwardly for a moment though Sherlock was silently seething that his brother had invaded his home and was not leaving when asked. So typical of him.

Harry started to shift in his seat. He wanted to know what Sherlock's brother meant by what he said but he didn't want to ask, afraid that he wouldn't be as nice as Sherlock was.

Sherlock sent a glare at his brother for making Harry uncomfortable while John asked, "Something you want to know, Harry?"

Harry froze in his shifting as all the eyes in the room turned to him and he blushed. Harry disliked being the center of attention.

"You can ask, Harry," said Lestrade gently to Harry after a few minutes of silence from him.

Harry gathered his nerve and turned to Mycroft and said, "How?"

"I beg your pardon?" said Mycroft raising his eyebrow in Harry's direction, not following his train of thought.

"How am I much more than just Harry?" asked Harry, looking as if that was not possible.

Everyone in the room turned to Mycroft though Molly and Lestrade knew the answer to this question – they just wanted to see how he would deal with answering it.

Mycroft, however, turned to Molly and Lestrade and asked, "How much have you told them about the war?"

Harry instantly scowled. Sherlock's brother was ignoring him and treating him like every other adult – besides Sherlock, John, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson and now Molly, so far – had treated him.

"Very little," admitted Lestrade. He had been hoping to breeze past it entirely so as to avoid his family's involvement in it.

"A wizarding war?" asked Sherlock for confirmation – he was in a whole new world after all and he had very little data to work with.

"Yes," said Molly with a slight tremor in her voice. "It was horrible."

There was silence for a moment as everyone processed the statement – a statement that made it seem that kind, sweet, caring Molly was part of a war.

Lestrade cleared his throat, distracting everyone from Molly for the moment, and said, "There is a brief summary in the book that you're holding, Sherlock."

"You can explain first and then I'll compare," said Sherlock, folding his hands over the moving picture and waiting for Lestrade to start. When it became apparent that he wasn't, Sherlock asked, impatiently, "What was the war about?"

Lestrade cleared his throat again and said, "Before I started to explain the blood statuses, remember how –"

Sherlock cut him off. "Of course. Molly said 'it was over the statuses.'"

"That's not exactly what she said," started Lestrade again.

Sherlock ignored him and continued. "So the great wizarding war was over extremists?"

"One in particular who gathered quite a few followers," confirmed Lestrade.

"They didn't just limit themselves to the wizarding population though as you would wipe each other out. There can't be many of wizards," murmured Sherlock, more to himself than anyone else.

"You recall the gas explosions that had occurred in seemingly ordinary houses," said Mycroft. Sherlock nodded at Mycroft still thinking and Mycroft continued, "That was them."

"Despite what the Wizarding World likes to think, they are quite small compared to the rest of the world," said Molly. "So you are right that they would have wiped themselves out had they focused on each other more, though some families did. Especially to the ones that were considered blood traitors."

"And these blood traitors," started John scrunching his nose in distaste at the last two words, "they were the ones who were nice to Muggle-borns and Muggles?"

Molly nodded and said, "Essentially yes. They are considered traitors to everything of the old ways. I had a friend who belonged to an old family," added Molly anticipating Sherlock's next question on how Molly knew that.

"What did they do?" asked Sherlock, curious on how wizards went to war with each other.

"We won't get into major detail on what they did now, Sherlock," said Lestrade with a pointed look at Harry, who was hanging onto their words, not speaking, afraid that if he did he would have to leave the room.

"Later then," said Sherlock, acknowledging that maybe a five-year-old child did not need to hear the gruesome details of a war.

Lestrade and Molly made no promises.

"Who was the leader?" asked Sherlock next.

Molly and Lestrade paled slightly and exchanged a look before looking at Mycroft, who shook his head minutely, giving an indication that he couldn't speak it, though only he knew the true reason why he couldn't speak it. Honestly, it was just a name. The jinx spell only worked on them. Not people like him.

"Surely just a name isn't too terrible for a five-year-old," said Sherlock with a mock in his voice.

"You have a lot to learn about the magical world, Sherlock," said Lestrade.

"Sometimes a name is far more terrible than you can imagine," said Molly.

Sherlock and even John raised incredulous eyebrows at this.

"You mean to say that an entire community is afraid of a name?" asked Sherlock, sounding extremely skeptical.

"No," said Lestrade.

"There were quite a few people at first who laughed at the name," said Molly.

"What happened to them?" asked John, fearing the answer.

"He killed them," said Molly simply.

Sherlock's eyebrow stayed raised as he said, "How could he have possibly known when someone said his name and then laugh about said name?"

"Sometimes a name is more than just a name," said Molly.

Lestrade continued and said, "The leader put a jinx on it."

"Jinx?" asked John and Harry, sounding confused.

"It's different than what you're thinking of," said Molly. "Not like 'you owe me a fizzy drink' kind of thing but more of an 'I can now track you wherever you go' kind of thing."

Sherlock took in the explanation and said, again, coming to the same conclusion as before, "So an entire community is afraid to say a name?"

"No," said Lestrade, again, shaking his head.

"There is one person who the leader is said to have feared more than anyone and that was the headmaster of the school where usually the students from the United Kingdom go and yes, there is more than one school throughout the world," said Molly, again, anticipating the question before it was asked.

"The old fool," said Mycroft under his breath, causing Sherlock to look at Mycroft, assessing him, along with everyone else.

Mycroft straightened up in his chair and said, knowing he needed to explain himself, "He gets under my skin more than Sherlock."

Molly frowned a little and said, "He's a little eccentric but he's not bad."

Mycroft stared at Molly and said, "He must make more of an effort if you're a student."

Molly blushed.

Sherlock stared hard at his brother and said, "Or maybe it was just you."

"I'll send him your way next time," said Mycroft.

"Please do," agreed Sherlock.

"Do not agree with me, Sherlock. It makes me worry for your mental health," said Mycroft.

"After all this time?" asked Sherlock.

"Boys? Can we focus? I thought Harry was the only child here," said John, interrupting them while Lestrade coughed to hide his building laughter and Harry stared at them, wondering if this was how all their conversations were going to go.

Mycroft and Sherlock didn't say anything and John sighed, turned to Molly and Lestrade and asked, "What's the headmaster's name?"

"If you can tell us," added Sherlock.

"Sherlock," sighed John.

"I'm only making sure, John," said Sherlock. "Names are apparently dangerous."

"He's name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said Lestrade with a frown at Sherlock.

"But almost everyone calls him Professor Dumbledore," said Molly.

"So this Dumbledore fellow calls the leader of the extremists by his name?" asked John.

"Yes," said Molly and Lestrade together.

"So it's not illegal to say," said Sherlock.

It was not posed as a question but Lestrade answered anyway. "No, it's not."

"So you can say it," said Sherlock.

"No one likes to," said Molly, though it sounded weak.

"You said he has been gone for three years?" asked Sherlock.

"Closer to four but yes," said Molly.

"Then I'm sure you have nothing to fear. The name?" asked Sherlock.

Molly was silent for a few minutes, visibly gathering her courage to try to say it before she said, "His name was Vol-" She stopped speaking and then tried again. "It's Vol-"

"Maybe you should do it quickly – like ripping off a plaster?" suggested Lestrade.

Molly tried one more time and said, "His name was Voldemort." Molly let out a shudder as did Lestrade.

Sherlock had a passive face as he stared at them before he asked, "Was he afraid of death?"

After Molly and Lestrade collected themselves enough, they stared at Sherlock blankly for a moment before Molly said, "Not that anyone was aware of. Why?"

Sherlock said nothing but he shared a look with his brother who nodded at him.

"What were his followers called?" asked Sherlock.

"Death Eaters," said Molly, unsure of where Sherlock was going with this.

Sherlock, again, said nothing and everyone digested what was said for a moment before Harry hesitantly asked, "What does this have to do with me and my parents?"

Molly and Lestrade exchanged a look before Lestrade said, "I only know what happened afterward."

"Right," said Molly, taking a deep breath before she continued, "During the end of the war, Vol-, You-Know-Who," Sherlock snorted at the title while Molly said it more comfortably than she did his actual name, "started to focus his attention on two families with babies – no one knows why, but he did."

Mycroft rolled his eyes slightly, which no one but Sherlock caught. He knew those families knew and one other person knew why but he wasn't saying anything.

"Some believed that it was because these two families, the parents, had survived encounters with You-Know-Who three times directly – something no one else had managed – and the babies were just collateral damage. Yet others believed it was because they were blood traitors. And still yet others believed that one of the two babies would have been You-Know-Who's downfall – but that one wasn't a popular belief. At first."

"Who were the two families? I'm guessing one was Harry's and the other?" said John.

"Yes, one was Harry's – the Potters – the other was a Pure-blood family called Longbottom," replied Molly.

Lestrade made a funny noise at the second name but no one commented on it right away.

"Did they know Voldemort was after them?" asked Sherlock, raising an eyebrow when Molly flinched.

"Yes," said Molly. "They went into hiding shortly after the babies were born."

"How do you know this?" asked Mycroft, even he didn't know this.

"How did they go into hiding?" asked Sherlock and John.

Harry's eyes were wide, taking everything that Molly was saying in. He had to go into hiding when he was a baby!

Molly looked at Mycroft and said, "There is a reason why I work in the Muggle World as opposed to the Wizarding World."

Mycroft continued to look at her, awaiting her answer, but Molly wasn't continuing so they sat in silence for a while before Sherlock interrupted and said, "Yes, yes. We'll obviously get back to that statement later. How did they go into hiding?"

"Only a few people know. It was supposed to be a secret," said Molly.

"Not that big of a secret. Voldemort obviously killed Harry's parents did he not?" said Sherlock.

"Sherlock," said John while Harry stared at all of them, unsure if they were telling the truth. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, after all, said they died in a car crash.

Sherlock looked at John, raising his eyebrows.

"Sensitivities," said John with a nod at Harry who was looking at them all with wide eyes.

Harry chose that moment to speak and said, "But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said they died in a car crash. They lied about how they died?" He said that as if he couldn't believe that his aunt and uncle would lie about that.

Molly decided to speak up and said, answering both Sherlock's question and Harry's, "Yes You-Know-Who did Sherlock and no, Harry, your parents didn't die in a car crash. They didn't even own a car."

Mycroft decided to add to the conversation now and said, as if thinking to himself, "So if only a few knew where they were, someone had to betray them."

Even though it wasn't a question, Molly still nodded and said, "Yes."

Mycroft leaned back in his chair, umbrella across his legs, with his fingers steepled under his chin – just like his brother usually does – thinking.

Everyone looked at Mycroft, wondering what he was thinking about before Harry said, "What about me? Why didn't Voldemort try to kill me? Why didn't I die?"

Everyone looked towards Harry at that and Molly and Lestrade exchanged another look, after flinching again, and Lestrade said, "That's the thing, Harry, You-Know-Who did."

"What?" said Sherlock, John and Harry, sitting up straighter on the couch.

"From what is known of You-Know-Who, there is every indication that he did," said Lestrade.

"Then how is Harry still alive?" asked John, sounding incredulous.

"Because something about Harry stopped him," said Lestrade simply. "Something happened that night, that no one knows except Harry, – who is too young to remember – James and Lily Potter and You-Know-Who himself know as well and all three of them are known, or thought to be known, to be dead."

"The book Mycroft had you give me has speculations then?" said Sherlock, holding up the book now like it was diseased with two fingers.

"Among other things, yes," said Lestrade.

"Keep the book," said Mycroft absentmindedly, knowing his brother well enough to know he was about to throw it in the bin. "There are other things you need to read."

Sherlock sniffed indignantly at being bossed around by his brother but he did set it back down on his lap.

"Thought to be dead?" asked Harry, with a slightly hopeful tone.

Lestrade sighed and said, "Your parents are dead, Harry. Their – well – bodies were recovered and given a proper Wizarding burial." Harry nodded understandingly if not slightly disappointed at getting his hopes up to begin with. "You-Know-Who's, on the other hand, is a completely different story. His body was never recovered – nor found."

"How?" asked John.

"That's another question that will go unanswered," responded Molly. "No one knows for sure and there is only gossip amongst disbelievers, those that doubt You-Know-Who is actually dead, and You-Know-Who's followers."

"So he could come back?" asked Harry, slightly afraid. He didn't want a murderer after him.

No one answered him, unable to.

Finally, Mycroft cleared his throat and said, "And that, Mister Potter, is why you are more than 'just Harry.' You are 'The-Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry stared at Mycroft.

A/N2: See? No cliffhanger this time? Right? You don't consider this a cliffhanger, do you? *stares* The next chapter will be up next Wednesday! See you then!