Is it weird that I've been purposefully spacing out the story so that this big major part of the plot would fall on the number twenty? (20 is such a pretty number, so neat and tidy). Anyway, thank you all for the reviews! A lot of them made me laugh, and I really needed to giggle this week. Thank you guys, so much. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Yes, so the many people who asked: Colin is John's son. Denis is not.

I have decided that Moriarty will probably make an appearance…but I haven't completely decided yet. It all just depends on how it fits with the plot…if I can…just figure out what the plot is…You see, this started out as a one shot…just a basic idea of "Hey! What if Sherlock and John were reincarnated as wizards!?" but then a bunch of people liked it and my muses just kept running. But I feel obligated to tell you that I have absolutely NO idea where this is going…I'm just…writing with the flow, I guess. So, if you're expected some profound story with deep meaning and symbolism (one, why are you reading fanfiction? Go pick up some Tolkien) and two, uh…sorry.

Anyway, thank you guys so much! Your reviews and PMs mean a lot to me!

May the gods be ever in your favor!

Severus woke up in a pretty horrible mood. It started out with his forgetting to close his shades the night before, which resulted in the harsh morning light glaring in his face until he could muster up the energy to crawl out of bed. After he'd viciously yanked the window shades closed and cursed them so that they'd be impossible to move (he'd probably regret that later) he stumbled into his kitchen cabinet for the heavily caffeinated potion he liked to dump into his morning tea. Only, to discover that he'd forgotten to restock. When he tried to get dressed, he discovered that his casual robes needed replacement as several burns and holes from the acidic potion's he worked with decorated the cloth. And then a blasted owl had to start rapping at his window.

Severus Snape was not a morning person. In fact, he was in such a bad mood that when he saw the bloody bird he was of half a mind to hex the dratted thing to kingdom come. The only thing that stayed his wand was the fact that he recognized the Ministry seal on the envelope the owl was bearing. With a growl he pushed open the window, letting it fly in, settling down on the back of his couch.

Irritation being replaced by curiosity, Severus wondered why on earth the Ministry would be contacting him. He hadn't been involved in anything dubious. As of only thing he could think of is if one of his Slytherins had been caught doing something suspicious and he'd been called in to testify against them. With dread, he reached for the envelope and snatched it away from the bird quickly, as it tried to peck at his hand.

"Get!" Snape barked at it. "Out!" He swatted a hand at it, only to be pecked rather harshly on the thumb. Cursing loudly, he whipped out his wand at threw a stinging hex at it. He would have done something more…permanent, but he suspected there were laws against that sort of thing. It didn't really matter anyway, as he ended up missing. Severus glared after it as it soared unharmed out the window.

Then he turned his attention to the envelope and broke the seal on it.

"Mister Severus Tobias Snape," the letter began. "As proxy of one Lord Potter-Peverell, heir Black, you are hereby asked to appear for the disciplinary hearing of one Jedidiah Syth, half-blood, who shall appear before the Wizengamot on the twenty-ninth of June for apparating drunk in the company of three unauthorized muggles and a cow. Information shall be provided prior to the hearing.

Signed, Head of the Department of Law Enforcement,

Madame Amelia Bones"

Severus blinked at the letter, unbelieving. What in devil's name? Proxy…for Lord…Sherlock. Gritting his teeth, he tore across the room to dig angrily through his writing desk, in search for a quill and scroll, with the intent to write a scathing letter to the little brat. Then he paused and looked back at the paper. Curiosity and ire warred between him but then the third part of exasperated fondness won out. If he accepted, it would mean a bit of honor restored to him. Perhaps enough for him to qualify for the Prince Lordship, which he'd made unavailable to himself when he'd signed his life away to Lord Voldemort. At the time he hadn't regretted it, but as the years went by and Voldemort became less and less…him…well…

Severus studied the letter again, then picked up his quill and was getting ready to jot down a rather angry thank-you note, when his Floo lit up and Lucius stumbled out, looking as ruffled as Severus had ever seen him.

"Severus," Lucius said, hesitating slightly which started to worry Severus. "We have to talk…it's..." Lucius took a deep breath and scanned the small abode as if to ensure they were truly along. "It's Sherlock." A boulder of dread dropped to the pit of Severus' gut.

Great Merlin's Ghost, Severus hated Mondays.

******1047******

Mary Morstan hadn't lived a happy life. Her childhood was horrid, filled with abuse and neglect. Her teen years were a blur of substance abuse and being on the run. Her early adulthood was dedicated to becoming a human weapon. And for years after that, that's all she was: a weapon.

And then she met John Watson. John. The man was everything she'd always looked for in a husband. Originally, she'd been hired to tail him and ensure he didn't kill himself out of depression, and Mary had found herself rather unimpressed by that. How pathetic could someone be? But then she actually met him. Quite by accident, he wasn't supposed to have seen her. But she lost him in the crowd one day during a parade about four weeks after she first took on the assignment. She found him beating up a mugger in an alley, a young girl and her little brother cowering behind him.

She'd been the one to call the police, and when they arrived she watched in confusion as the officers greeted John warmly, almost lovingly as though he were a close family member. The DI even embraced John, though the ex-soldier stoically pulled away. The DI sighed and placed a kind hand on John's shoulder before walking away. John, looked like he was trying not to choke on a lemon. Then, almost without realizing she was doing it, she walked up to him to ask him if he was alright.

Emotionlessly, John said he was and thank you very much for asking. Mary wasn't having it, though, and almost dragged him across the street to get a cup of coffee. John accepted, if a bit reluctantly. He kept staring out the window at the street, and when Mary asked him what he was looking at, he gave her a smile that seemed more heartbroken than happy and said "Ghosts".

Mary was intrigued. The next day she applied for a position as a nurse at the clinic John was working at, and four weeks later they ran into each other on shift. John seemed genuinely surprised, Mary pretended to be. Two days later, they went out to dinner together, and John seemed to try to be a good company. But he was distracted. About halfway through the meal, Mary asked. "Who is she?"

"Pardon?" John asked, his eyes tense and smile tenser.

"Your mind obviously isn't here; you're thinking about someone else. Did she leave you then? Unhappy break-up?" Mary guessed. She hadn't been given a lot of information about her target. Her employer had apparently thought if she couldn't figure it out for herself, she didn't deserve to know and, besides, she wasn't the only one keeping an eye on Watson.

John's fake smile fell away and Mary counted it as a win. He swallowed dryly and cast his eyes down at the floor. He opened his mouth and a quiet sound came from him, but that was it. He closed his mouth, swallowed once more, and tried again. "You're rather observant, aren't you?"

"I like to notice things," Mary agreed vaguely. John closed his eyes like her words physically hurt him. Mary made a mental note of him.

"He" John said. And Mary was surprised, he hadn't thought John swung that way. "It's not like what you're thinking. Not really. I did…He was my best friend. An absolute maniac. Completely bonkers. But a genius. He…he…he's…we…" John stopped talking again…shaking his head. Mary reached across the table and picked up his hand.

"I had three best friends," Mary said quietly. "They were my best friends in the whole world. For years, it was us against everyone else. We did everything together. And then, one day. Something happened, I'm still not quite sure what…but all three of them…they died that day." Mary fell silent for a moment, remembering, then asking herself why she was telling him this, she looked back up and met his eyes. "I understand, John. I do. It feels like I was gutted. Like I'm missing pieces."

"Yeah" John said hoarsely. The rest of the meal was quiet, but not uncomfortable. They ate and paid their bill. Then John took her home. When they saw each other the next day at work, Mary smiled at him. And John smiled back.

Time would show that John Watson was a good man, in every way. He was kind, but firm. Strong and gentle. Intelligent (he had to be, to become a doctor of his caliber) but he tended to see things far more simply than most people. He was protective and loving, and warm. Often times he'd grow distant, things would trigger memories of his friend, Sherlock. But Mary didn't care. Sherlock was dead and John was hers.

Until he wasn't.

John was going to propose; she knew he was. She could see the outline of the box in his pocket. She could see him trying to work up his nerve, so she just sat there, smiling encouragingly, already knowing she would say 'yes'. Then a really bad French accented interrupted them, asking about wine.

At first, Mary had no idea what was going on. Just that John went as pale as a sheet and decked the man across the schnozzle. After they got thrown out (of several places), John had begun to sob. Mary hadn't seen him cry, never. But suddenly John was breaking apart and then that blasted man was wrapping his gangling arms around her John, pressing his face into John's hair, hiding his own wet eyes.

And yet, John married her anyway. At first, she thought this was a sign of her victory over the detective. But she soon realized that John was just going through the motions, because he was a nice guy who didn't want to hurt Mary after having lead her on for so long. Then, at the wedding, Sherlock first the first time showed the entire room just how much he loved John, and the two men embraced. Mary had sat there, looking like she thought it was just as precious as everyone else in the room as Sherlock looked around at the emotional crowd he'd moved with his speech and cautiously asked John "Did I do something wrong?"

Honestly, it was only a matter of time before she shot him. But had she known about…she would have waited. And then maybe John would have stayed. She should have killed Sherlock. She could have! Would have except she loved John, and she knew Sherlock dying (again) would have crushed him (again). But then John would have never known, and he would still be here with her and their child. Alive.

But as soon as he realized it was his own wife who pulled the trigger, he looked at her with a face so full of loathing. She'll never forget it. Not as long as she lived.

"You forgave him!" she cried as John told her to leave, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest there at Baker Street. "He hurt you. For YEARS and you forgave him!" Sherlock winced, hearing that. He was standing awkwardly several feet away, half in half out of the kitchen holding a cup of tea that was meant for John, even though according to his doctors (all of them) he should be in bed, recovering.

"Exactly, Mary," John had said calmly. "He hurt me. He did. Sherlock hurt me. But you" John spat at her. "you hurt him. And that I cannot and will never forgive. Get. Out. And don't come back."

Sherlock's brother ensured that the divorced was finalized before the end of the day. Two weeks later she realized she was pregnant. She tried to contact John, KNOWING that if he knew they had made a child together, he would take her back, if only for the baby. But every time she tried to get close to them, Sherlock's brother's men would keep her away. Several times even threatening her at gun point. In desperation, she tried leaving voicemail and text messages and emails. But John never showed any sign of having received them. She didn't know if it was Mycroft or Sherlock deleting it.

Four months later, John was dead.

She had sobbed and sobbed and considered aborting the baby. But she couldn't. Couldn't. It was the last piece of John she'd ever have, and she did love him. Truly and completely. Just as much as she'd hated Sherlock for taking him away. Truly and completely. She was still pregnant when she met Peter. Peter was kind and gentle, not John but something. Mary didn't love him, but he was taken with her. Colin was born and Peter doted over him, treating the baby like his own.

Peter looked nothing like John. Where John was blonde and muscular and slightly on the short side, Peter was tall and willowy and redheaded. She told him she was a widower. He believed her. Peter, impulsive and excitable Peter, proposed not even three months later. She said yes, simply because it would better benefit her and John's child more than if she said no. Still, she grew to care about him, even if she didn't truly love him like she had John, and little Denis was born into a seemingly happy family two years later.

Peter loved both of the boys, and adored her. She was content, if not happy. The boys were both hardy and happy. Life was…good. And then Colin became a wizard. Or, apparently he'd always been a wizard, and Mary couldn't help but wonder if he'd gotten his magic from his Dad (even though later, Denis, his half-brother, showed signs of magic as well). The year Colin turned eleven, her little piece of John was whisked away to Scotland to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

And he wrote home with tales of his new friends. Among which were "Two funny kids name John and Sherlock. They're really neat! Sherlock's super smart and John's really nice! They're best friends, but I think they're my friends too!" And her heart just stopped.

Eventually, through the letters she realized that the two boys were just fans of her late-husband and the consulting detective, even if they share a few vague personality traits. After all, how ridiculous was it to think it was actually John? It was just a weird coincidence that got painful after Colin received that blasted book about The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes for Christmas.

But she let him keep it, because his father had written those words even if it was a stranger who'd complied them. And she'd even agreed to let him invite his little friends over for his birthday party.

And then she saw them. True, they were tiny; the same age as her own son. Their son. But it was unmistakably John and Sherlock. Sherlock even wore an identical, miniature, coat! She stood there, gaping. Dimly, she realized that Colin was looking at her strangely. John's eyes were wide with horror. Sherlock and the boy and girl standing close to him looked…calculating.

She swallowed her emotions and said "Sorry, you look like old friend of mine. The resemblance is uncanny!" John's frozen expression didn't change, but instead it shifted over to where Colin stood.

"Quite alright, Mrs. Creevy," said mini-Sherlock, and it took everything in Mary not to reach down and strangle that tiny throat. "By the way, me, my brother and my friend here had a question about the gift we three bought Colin. But we don't want to ask you about it here, you know, surprises, would it be okay if we talked to you about it in private?" John's head swiveled over to look at Sherlock, and the platinum blond boy (his brother, Mary guessed) seemed to nod solemnly.

"Of course, of course!" Mary said with forced cheer. "Right this way, we can talk about it in my room!"

As she led the three boys down the hall, Mary couldn't help but feel like she was walking to her doom.

*****1047******

"Lucius" Severus greeted uncertainly, rising from his desk. "Is Mr. Potter alright?" The Malfoy Lord shook his head, fists clenching and magic pulsating anxiously. "Where is he? What's wrong?"

Lucius held up a hand. "As of right now, he's in perfect health. I saw to that myself before I came."

"Than what—"

"However," Lucius cut him off, which normally would have made Severus livid, but he was too concerned to even register the slight. "If your dear Headmaster has his way, he would see Sherlock returned to those abusive…creatures."

"The abuse has been confirmed?"

"You knew?"

"Suspected," Severus corrected him. "Lucius, I'm not in a position to do anything. Why—"

"You're to come pick him up and take him back to the muggles tomorrow," Lucius cut across him again. "Dumbledore told me himself. I'm sure we can think of something!"

Severus was quiet. "I could bring him here." Lucius looked around Severus' small house in Spinner's End, surprised. "Dumbledore wouldn't expect me to care enough about the spawn of my childhood rival to bring him into my own home. But…he would know if the wards keep weakening."

"Wards? What wards? Is that why he's so adamant about Sherlock leaving us?"

"Yes," Severus answered quietly. "The night Lily died, her magic wove protectively around Potter which kept him alive. Dumbledore used this to place bloodwards around Privet Drive before the magic naturally dissipated. If it had worked, it would have been strong enough to keep the Dark Lord himself away."

"If it had worked?"

"It's weak and weakening," Severus growled. "In order for the magic to truly take, Potter must feel safe and call the area home. But if what you say is true and Potter is being abused…"

Lucius swore. Then his eyes widened. "What if you take up the ward stone and put in on the grounds of Malfoy Manor? We are distantly related, through his father. The blood wards should hold. They'd grow stronger, but not too much as to arouse suspicion as he will be primarily living here."

"I'm not sure if it will work," Severus said, massaging his eyes. "Dumbledore said that it had to be Lily's family, because Lily was the one to give her life for him."

Lucius frowned. "Didn't Potter Sr. also die for Sherlock that night?" Severus froze.

"Morgana, I'm an idiot."

"So it would work?"

"Maybe," Severus said. "Just maybe, but if we aren't careful, Dumbledore would know the stone is being moved. It would take a master…" Severus trailed off and looked at his friend with contemplative eyes.

"What now?"

"William Weasley?"

"I beg your pardon?"
"The eldest Weasley is a warding prodigy. The Goblins snapped him up right out of Hogwarts and shipped him off to Egypt to stabilize the pyramids. If anyone could do it, it would be William." Lucius grimaced.

"I cannot go to him for help, you will have to."

"Why?"

"The feud, Sev, the feud!" Lucius pulled at his hair. "Though I'm of half a mind to break it anyway," he admitted. "Because of little Sherlock's relationship with the youngest Weasley. If I try to cut off communication after he becomes a Malfoy I'll have a revolt on my hands. 'John' is all he ever talks about."

"Becomes a Malfoy? You want to adopt him?"

"No, well, in a way. Dumbledore has agreed to bind him to Draco with a marriage contract." Lucius explained. Severus decided just to not say anything about that, instead returning to the issue of the feud.

"What even started the feud, why continue it?" Severus asked.

Lucius sighed and sat himself down on Severus' couch. "Four generations ago, the eldest Weasley son was betrothed to a Malfoy daughter. But, the Weasley broke the engagement in order to chase after a Muggle woman. In retaliation, the Malfoy family humiliated the Weasley's by buying up their assets and destroying their reputations. Within a year, they lost Lordship and Ancient House status. They then cursed the Malfoy line with the…they call it the pruning curse."

"Pruning curse?"

"Crude, I know. In that it slims down the family tree. By this time, the Malfoy daughter had married another and was expecting her first child. The wife of the Lord Malfoy was expecting her second. The curse…it causes there to be but one heir, nothing more. That Malfoy daughter had a miscarriage. It was discarded as an accident, but then Lady Malfoy also lost her child. When, ten years later, they were unsuccessful at having any other Malfoy children in any branch of the family, the feud was declared and days later the muggle wife of the Weasley patriarch was found dead."

"I see," Severus said. "And in order to break the feud?"

"I'd only have to aid in restoring the Weasley family to their old status, and they in return would have to lift the curse."

"…a good way to start would be hiring the boy."

******1047*******

The door closed behind the group. "Alright," Sherlock clapped his hands, making Mary flinch. "Mary, it's good to see you doing well. How have you been?" John felt rather horrified at first when Sherlock just out and out said it. But then he resigned himself to the fact that Sherlock probably had a plan. And if Sherlock didn't, John knew Mycroft would.

"So…" she said quietly. "It's…it's really you?" She looked at them all uncertainly, lingering quite a bit longer on John. "John?" John took a step back and Sherlock gripped his hand tightly. Mary's heart clenched, seeing how young they all were.

"Yes," John said faintly. "But enough of that…tell me…" John took a deep breath. "Tell me, is Colin…" John couldn't finish the sentence. Mary didn't know what do feel. A day ago, she would have given anything to have John alive and knowing that Colin was his son. But now…now John was just a boy.

"He's yours," Mary said quietly. "Ours." John was standing very still. "I tried to tell you, John," she said, tears gathering in her eyes. She hadn't cried once since John died. "I swear it! But I was never able to get close enough! It's all his brother's fault!" Mary flung an accusing finger at Sherlock. John turned to look at the third boy, who Mary hadn't been able to recognize.

"Is that true, Mycroft?" John asked, looking betrayed. "Did you know I had a son?"

The third boy, Mycroft, looked lost and incredibly guilty. "I knew that's what she was saying she wanted to meet with you over, John," he said quietly. "But I'd been certain she was lying. She showed no outward changes in appearance or activity. She bought no maternity clothes. She never went in for doctor's visits, and…Please understand, she'd just tried to kill my brother." Mycroft said stepping closer to the other two boys. "If I have known she was telling the truth I would have told you. But I didn't want to give her a second chance at killing Sherlock."

John wanted to be angry at Mycroft. He really did. But he didn't expect anything less from Sherlock's older brother. But there was still the matter of John having a son. A son who'd grown up without him.

"Does he know?" John addressed Mary. Mary hesitated.

"Know who his father is? N-no. He only knows that his father passed away before I met Peter. I never gave him a name." John nodded, feeling a weight rest on his heart. His son didn't even know who he was. And, oh, he'd treated Colin so horribly this semester.

"And Denis?"

"Mine and Peter's" Mary said quietly. "John, I—"

"No," he said coldly. "I don't want to talk to you anymore. Ignore us for the rest of the day, and then you'll never see any of us again."

"But, John!"

"John," Sherlock ignored her and looked directly at him. "Are you sure there's nothing else you wish to ask her?" John was confused. He shook his head. "Mycroft, restrain her." Instantly, Mycroft's wand was in his hand and thick purple ropes were binding Mary. A gag was even placed in her mouth.

"Are you crazy?" John hissed. "We can't use magic out of school!"

"You can't" Mycroft said with a slow smirk. "My wand has no trace. Perks of being a Malfoy." John managed a smile back at him, and saw relief in Mycroft's eyes.

"What are you going to do?" John asked Sherlock as his friend drew his hand away and approached Mary, who was staring at them with wide, terrified eyes.

"I friend taught me a trick I've been meaning to try," Sherlock said distantly as he knelt in front of John's ex-wife. "Don't worry, it won't hurt her." So saying, Sherlock peered into Mary's eyes and whispered "Legilimens". Aeldin had been teaching him about the mind arts ever since Sherlock had found a tome in the mirror about it. Aeldin had apparently been a Master at it in life. It was one of the way he kept his minions in line.

Sherlock did his best to be gentle, more for Colin's sake than anything, as he searched for every single memory about John Hamish Watson. Every time he came across one, he destroyed it viciously, much the same way he deleted particularly unpleasant memories in his own head. For Sherlock, who had spent two lifetimes keeping his brain neat and tidy, Mary's brain was filled with a disgusting amount of clutter. Even still it was as easy as strolling into somebody else's house, piling all the cook books up on a table, a destroying them with a (mentally conjured) flamethrower.

He took a great deal of enjoyment from utterly obliterating the memory of John and Mary's wedding night.

Before long, Sherlock was leaving Mary's mind and Mycroft had the ropes vanished in an instant. Mary sat on the floor on a bit of a daze. "Mrs. Creevy?" Sherlock asked, using the same tone he adopted when talking to Narcissa. "Mrs. Creevy are you alright?" Mary blinked once, then twice.

"Oh," she said, his eyes slightly unfocused. "Sorry, what were you saying, dear?" Then she frowned. "What was your name, again?"

Sherlock smiled at her. "I'm Sherlock. Here for Colin's party, remember? I was asking if you think he'd like a new…" Sherlock trailed off, trying to remember what it was John had said they'd bought their friend.

"Camera," Mycroft finished helpfully. "You got him a camera."

Mary's eyes cleared somewhat with understanding. "Ah! Yes, of course! He's told me all about you two. And I'm sure he'd love whatever it is you've gotten him. Come along now! Let's get back to the party, I'm sure Colin will be wondering where you've gotten to!" John was feeling a little unbalanced, unsure of what had just transpired.

"I made her forget," Sherlock whispered in John's ear. "I was careful, she's unharmed." John nodded as the three of them followed the oblivious Mary back to the main room, where the rest of the guests had arrived while they had been…preoccupied. Colin beamed at them and waved them over.

"Just in time! We're going to be heading over to the Oof-!" Colin was interrupted by John throwing two slightly trembling arms around the slightly shorter boy. "John, are you okay?" John nodded, hugging him a bit tighter then letting go, smiling tightly.

"Yeah, just," John ran a hand through his hair. "Happy Birthday, Colin." Colin smiled at him. By the end of the day, Colin was feeling extrememly confused as to John's sudden change in behavior. Whereas John had been slightly shy towards him before, how John seemed to always be at his shoulder, asking him if he needed anything. It was nice. Colin hadn't had any friends before going to Hogwarts. As John hugged him one last time before leaving that night, Colin wondered to himself if this was what having a best friend was like.

*****1047******

Earlier that day, Arthur Weasley was shocked to find Lucius Malfoy standing at the door of the Burrow. Good manners forced him to greet his unexpected visitor with a smile, though it was obviously strained, as he opened the door. "Hullo…Mr. Malfoy," Arthur said uncertainly. "To what do I owe this…visit." Lucius returned the smile, just as unsteadily.

"It is out of concern for Sherlock Potter," Lucius said quietly. "I must ask for your help, in order to prevent an innocent child being sent back to an abusive home."

Arthur felt familiar ire rising up "Just because they are muggles—" "That has nothing to do with it, Arthur," Lucius snapped. Mr. Weasley felt his anger fall away.

"W-what?"

Lucius sighed. "May I come in?"

"…of course, Lord Malfoy."

*******1047********

Dumbledore looked up from his leisure reading when he felt the wards being triggered on his gargoyle. Somebody was coming up the stairs. Waving his wand at the window, it revealed his guest to be none other than Severus Snape. Surprized but pleased, Dumbledore cheerily called out for Severus just "Come in, come in, dear boy!" when he came within a foot of the door. The door was opened and revealed the Potion's Master, who was wearing a very troubled look.

Dumbledore frowned. "Whatever is the matter, Severus?"

"Headmaster," Severus said, coming to stand in front of his desk. "I have been thinking about Potter," he hesitated and Dumbledore gestured for him to go on. "If what we fear is true, and Voldemort I really back…I ask for permission to seek a Fidelious Charm be placed over Privet Drive." Dumbledore's eyes widened. "I offer myself as secret keeper, I'll not trust Sherlock's safety with anyone but myself." Dumbledore grinned.

"Severus," he said delightedly, but patronizing as though speaking to a child who had just shown him a colorful scribble. "I'm so pleased you've come to care for him. Of course you have my permission! It shouldn't take long to get someone from the ministry to go out and place it. In fact, it should be done by tomorrow afternoon. Surely you don't mind sticking around for a few hours?"

"Sir?"

"Oh, yes, I haven't asked you yet. Severus, would you please pick Harry up tomorrow? I'd do it myself but I'm far too busy preparing for the school year, dealing with the governors and such. And Cornelius is trying to get one of his people in the DADA position again." Dumbledore leaned back and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "The boy trusts you, it seems. And obviously you can be trusted to care for him."

"I will, to the best of my ability," said Severus solemnly. "You have my word, Headmaster."

*******1047*********

Owen sat with his mates in the small house their employers had placed them in for their duration in Egypt. They'd just finished a rather hard day in one of the smaller pyramids. One of the muggle tourists had accidently caused a triggering of an ancient curse, and it took their best man ten hours to neutralize it. They were all exhausted. The man in question, Bill, was all but passed out on the table, when a messenger boy came in and told them "Floo call for Mister Weasley!" Bill groaned.

"Probably Mum," he said exhaustedly. "Checking to make sure I've been changing my underwear." The men all chuckled and watched as Bill slumped to the next room to take the call. "Hey Dad!" they heard Bill say with forced energy. "Of course, what do you need? When? Now? Really? No. No. Yeah. Maybe. Sorta. But Dad—! Seriously? Malfoy? Sherlock? What about him? Muggles? Snape? Dad are you feeling okay? But—But—But—No, but—Dad!" The men started laughing again.

Bill walked in some minutes later looking a bit befuddled. "I'm going to be taking my vacation days now, I guess." He said.

"Family trouble?" asked one of the men sympathetically.

"Yeah," said Bill shaking his head. "My Dad's gone insane."

*****1047****

Hope you guys liked it! By the way, I'm looking for some quality fics about Avengers or Supernatural, but I'm feeling like I already read all the ones worth reading. Any suggestions?