Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter. Also I started writing/plotting this story before season 3 so I will incorporate some aspects of season 3 and beyond but other aspects will not be included.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! I read every single review - even if I didn't manage to respond to them all. I appreciate all the feedback! Seriously I never expected this story to be so well received. :-)

Additional Note: I don't have enough apologies for the long wait so I won't even try...at least it wasn't three years like some of my other stories...though two is probably no better...I'm seriously working on getting all my stories done so, I beg all my readers, please have just a tiny bit more patience with me. :-) All my stories will be completed...eventually.

Chapter 16

"Hello, Mummy," said Sherlock into his phone as he walked out of the room again so he wasn't overheard.

"Do not, 'Hello, Mummy,' me, young man. Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" asked the voice on the other end of the phone in a calm voice.

"I –" started Sherlock but he was cut off.

"No, you do not! Not even a telephone call from my own sons to let me know that the son that was held hostage was all right. I have to find out about everything being over on the telly! And we all know how accurate the telly is some days, don't we?" said Mummy, still in a calm voice but starting to pick up speed and pitch.

"Yes, Mummy," said Sherlock, not bothering to explain his actions to his mother, knowing it wouldn't help his plight with her. She was worried.

"Then in the next breath on the telly, they said there had been casualties! Casualties, Sherlock, and do you know what was my next thought?" asked Mummy, voice starting to raise slightly.

Sherlock was silent.

"That's right, Sherlock. It was of you and if you had made it out of the bank because, surely if you had, you would have called your mother and let her know you were fine, especially as we all know the statistics on hostage situations!" said Mummy with a slight break in her voice.

Sherlock, fearing that his mother was about to start crying on him and having enough tears the past two days in his presence to last him a lifetime, hurried to reassure his mother and said, "I'm fine, Mummy. I didn't even get a scratch."

"I should hope so! What with your detective work being dangerous, the last thing you need is for a bank to be a dangerous place," said Mummy and then she started to talk about the safety of bank consumers, security and other things. Sherlock had stopped listening after he said his reassurance but knew enough about his mother to know that hanging up on her was never a good idea.

"Now," said Mummy when she was done lecturing as mothers tend to do apparently, "Mycroft said you had news to tell me. What is it? And do not use that kind of language about your brother! It's unseemly."

"I didn't say anything," said Sherlock though he definitely wanted to. How dare Mycroft put him in this position?

"You were thinking it William Sherlock Scott Holmes," said Mummy sternly.

Sherlock sighed and said, "I hate it when you call me that."

"It's your name, dear. Now, enough dawdling and tell me what's got your brother all in such a bundle of nerves," said Mummy.

"Mycroft? A bundle of nerves?" asked Sherlock sounding skeptical.

"Dawdling Sherlock…Unless you don't want to tell me? Or was your brother covering for you again? Are you hurt? Did you get hurt in that blasted bank robbery turned hostage situation?" asked Mummy and there was a quiver in her voice.

Sherlock was going to kill Mycroft…happily. Better yet, he was going to return the favor to him two-fold and sit back and watch him sweat.

"No, Mycroft is not covering for me. I didn't get injured in the bank robbery gone wrong. I was just hoping to tell you my news in person so you could better appreciate it as opposed to hearing it on the phone."

Sherlock was glad he walked out of the room, knowing at least one person would have had a hard time controlling their undignified, disbelieving snort of laughter.

Mummy was silent for a moment before she said, "Are you trying to get out of telling me?"

"Of course not, Mummy," Sherlock said at once.

"Then I would like to hear your news, regardless of how you think I will take it, right now over the phone," said Mummy in her no-nonsense voice.

Sherlock let out an uncharacteristic sigh and said, "I may have...possibly adopted a child along with my roommate, John."

There was silence.

"Mummy?" asked Sherlock when he felt the silence was going on far too long.

Still, the silence continued for a moment longer before Mummy said, "Let me make sure I heard you correctly. You adopted a child along with your roommate, the same roommate you are not romantically involved with? What is going to happen to the child when one of you moves away from the other?"

Sherlock was silent for a moment before he said, "Yes, you heard correctly." He didn't continue.

Mummy was silent for a moment, as if waiting for Sherlock to continue, before she said, "And what about the other part of the question, Sherlock? What happens to the child when, eventually, one of you moves away from the other? You said Doctor John Watson was not gay and you were not involved with him so…"

Sherlock cut his mother off and said, "It's technically just a temporary guardianship for now in both our names. I suspect there is a problem that Mycroft couldn't circumvent."

Mummy sighed and said, "Sherlock, Mycroft cannot just do everything you ask him. There are limits you know."

"I know all too well, Mummy," said Sherlock some bitterness coming into his voice.

There was silence again at the comment.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean –" apologized Sherlock, cutting himself off at the end.

"I know," accepted Mummy, softly. She let out a sigh and said, "This is what you want? The both of you? You've thought it through?"

"Yes," said Sherlock – because he spent the whole night in the vault thinking it through and then some more last night.

"I'm going to be a grandma then," said Mummy and there was a hint of a smile in her voice that Sherlock could detect.

"Yes," said Sherlock again.

"How old is the child? Are they a boy or a girl? Give me some more details, Sherlock. Oh, if this child is to be a part of our family, along with Doctor Watson, then all of you must come out here so I can meet them, Sherlock," said Mummy, her excitement getting the better of her.

Sherlock smiled to himself as he started to fill his mother in on Harry – the parts that he apparently could anyway – and arranged a time for John, Harry and himself to go out to his childhood home to meet her.

Sherlock hung up the phone approximately ten minutes later after promising to call her more.

Sherlock took a deep breath. The conversation went in a different direction than what he thought it was going to go but it wasn't a bad one. It gave him more information to think about.

His mother was worried about John leaving and him being alone with Harry. She had no idea what Mycroft and Sherlock had planned before either John or Harry were in the picture. Sherlock being alone with Harry was not one of the more likely outcomes.

No matter. All of his plans just needed a little more fine-tuning and he probably could not be as reckless. Hardly any drawbacks to having Harry with him.

Sherlock pocketed his phone and walked back into the room, observing the occupants without their knowledge.

Harry and Molly were where he left them before he went out into the hallway to talk to his mother – in his and John's chairs in front of the fireplace, the chairs having been moved by Lestrade and John when he left the room with Mycroft – talking presumably about Harry's parents. Sherlock was becoming efficient at ignoring the strange feelings happening in his stomach when dealing with Harry.

Sherlock moved his eyes to John who was watching them while he made tea in the kitchen, a habit he had when he felt the need to be doing something useful.

Lestrade, Sherlock noticed, was sitting on their sofa, going through the case report file, trying – in his limited capacity – to make sense of what he was seeing.

Sherlock, knowing that Harry shouldn't be hearing or seeing any details about murders – he knew that before Mummy told him – made sure he was engrossed with Molly before he caught John's eye and beckoned him over.

"Everything okay?" asked John handing over a cup of tea.

"Fine. Ready to solve another case," said Sherlock.

John frowned and said, "What about Harry? Should he be hearing about murders?"

Sherlock dismissed John's concerns and said, "Molly is keeping him entertained with stories about his parents."

John's frown deepened and said, "Are you jealous? It sounds like you're jealous of dead people, Sherlock."

Sherlock didn't bother to answer him – he wasn't jealous – as he sat down in front of Lestrade while John, shaking his head, followed suit.

"Tell me about the case," said Sherlock staring at Lestrade, hating that he was repeating himself again, "and leave nothing out."

Lestrade started telling him about the case that he wasn't so eager to hear the day of the bank robbery gone wrong.

Saint Bartholomew's Hospital; same time

A man walked into Saint Bartholomew's Hospital and looked around before spotting the receptionist desk. He walked over to the desk.

"Excuse me, ma'am," said he said, slightly bashful.

"Yes," said the woman, smiling gently at him.

"Can you tell me where I can find Vernon Dursley?" asked the man, a worried tone in his voice.

"Are you a relative?" asked the woman, her gentle smile turning into a frown. Reporters have been trying to get in to see that poor man.

The man smiled and said, "Yep! I'm his cousin. He used to call me, Little Jimmy growing up because he was so much older than me."

The woman smiled, again, while thinking that age may not have been the entire factor in that nickname, and said, "I had to be sure. Reporters…" She trailed off.

The man, now identified as Jim, nodded earnestly and said, "I understand, ma'am."

The woman smiled once more in his direction before looking down at her computer and said, "He was just moved out of intensive care to a regular room." She gave the room number. "Do you need any help getting there?"

Jim shook his head and said, "Nope. I can make it on my own. Thank you so much for your help."

"You're welcome," said the woman.

As the young man walked away, the receptionist wondered why all people who needed help finding relatives' and friends' rooms couldn't be as polite as he was.

While Jim walked to the room he was directed to, he shook off the character he acted out to find the information with a grin.

Ordinary people were so adorable sometimes.

Moriarty whistled as he walked to the room he was directed. He just knew this was going to be a good day.

When he finally arrived, he stood outside the window and observed the man who was lying on the bed. He was shouting, red-faced, at the nurse.

Yes, this was going to be a perfect.

The nurse walked out of the room muttering under her breath without looking in Moriarty's direction and that was his cue.

"Mister Vernon Dursley?"

"What do you want? I already gave the blasted police my statement," said the man lying supine.

He was turning purple as well. How lovely.

Moriarty grinned widely and said, "I'm not with the police."

"Then what do you want?" asked the man angrily.

Moriarty grin grew even wider as he said, "I'm here to help you."

An hour later, Moriarty left Vernon Dursley's room – as he had an appointment that couldn't be rescheduled – so he called his associate.

"It's me," said Moriarty, "The plan is on. Pick-up in one hour."

"Understood, sir. We'll make it happen," replied his associate.

"You better or they'll never find your body," said Moriarty pleasantly.

His associate gulped audibly and said, "Yes, sir."

Moriarty hung up and walked to a first floor bathroom where he had placed a bag of clothes for him to change into. Once done, he walked out of the bathroom and to another floor in the hospital.

He gave the receptionist a smile and his alias, and she told him to have a seat – the head of the department would be right with him.

Moriarty waited for a few minutes before the head of the department came into the room and asked for Moriarty's alias.

Moriarty stood up, smiled, shook the man's hand and said, "Please call me, Jim."

"Jim it is. Follow me, please."

"Okay," said Jim as he followed the man into the room where the interview was to take place and took the seat he was directed into.

The man sat in his own seat, arranging his papers in order before he looked up and said, "Tell me, why do you want to work for our IT Department, Jim?"

Jim smiled.

Hogwarts – Dumbledore's Office; same time

"Ah, Severus," said Dumbledore as if Severus' arrival was unexpected.

"You called for me, Headmaster," said Severus Snape with a sneer. He was a busy man and he didn't have the time to deal with the Headmaster.

"Yes, but first would you care for a lemon drop?" asked Dumbledore, offering the candy.

"No," said Professor Snape.

"Alas, it seems as if I'm the only one who still likes them," Dumbledore said as he took one and popped it into his mouth.

There was silence for a moment as the headmaster enjoyed his candy before Professor Snape broke the silence.

"Your request, Headmaster?"

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "What do you make of these?" He gestured to the devices that stopped working.

Professor Snape frowned at the headmaster before he took out his wand and cast a few diagnostic spells and a few spells that would cause the headmaster to frown if he knew for sure their origin.

When he looked up, the headmaster was indeed frowning but he was waiting for Severus' answer.

"The wards the devices were tied to appear to have broken about seventy-two to ninety-six hours ago," stated Professor Snape in a matter of fact voice.

"Yes," agreed Dumbledore somberly. "Can you ascertain if any of the people the wards were also linked to are injured or worse?"

Professor Snape frowned before he turned back to the devices and cast one more spell. He shook his head and said, "No, I cannot."

Dumbledore frowned deeper and said, "Neither can I. I suppose that leaves me and now you one last option. We need to go check on the individuals these wards and devices were tied to."

"I beg your pardon?" said Professor Snape.

Dumbledore looked at his young professor and said, "Those wards were tied to Harry Potter. If they are broken, it means something has happened to him and his family."

Professor Snape suddenly looked mutinous.

"Might I remind you of the Vow you made," said Dumbledore, before Severus could say anything. serenely.

Even if he still sounded pleasant, there was now a hard glint in Dumbledore's eye that Professor Snape recognized.

Professor Snape was silent, contemplating his choices for several moments, before he said, "When do you want to depart?"

Dumbledore eyed him for a few seconds before he said, "Two hours. I wish for Minerva to accompany us as well."

Professor Snape inclined his head and he swooped out of the office just as he entered it.

A/N2: It's a Christmas miracle! I was going to update tomorrow, but I'm going to be super busy tomorrow...hopefully that was worth the long wait? The next chapter won't take as long to come out, promise (check out my profile page for progress). I'm anxious to finish this one as I want to start on the sequel...I've got lots of juicy things planned. :-)