Thank you to all the peoples who reviewed for the last chapter!

animaniac-aizel012: Yes. Sort of. And thank you for reviewing at all!

: Your review made me smile! I'm really glad you like my story! I'm glad you like the 'little bits of history', I try to put a lot of thought into those parts particuarily XD

Tamha: Yeah, while there's def not going to be any lemons, I think giving myself more creative freedom by getting rid of that limitation will help many areas of this story in the long run. But, Thank you.

May the gods be ever in your favor!

~James

Book II: A Study in Identity

Sherlock Holmes woke up late on the morning of his twelfth birthday. He scowled, the only possibly reason that he woke up late was if Severus had drugged his evening tea with a sleeping potion. It had become something of a game for them, ever since Severus had learned his young ward suffered from insomnia the first night Sherlock lived with him. Severus had been woken up around three in the morning to a loud bang. Fearing the worst, he'd fled down the hall to the small ex-closet room and thrown open the door, only to be greeted by the sight of one bored Sherlock Holmes throwing (seemingly) random ingredients into a half-melting cauldron.

"I'm seeing how much the quality of the cauldron effects that of the potion," Sherlock explained off handedly as he dropped a handful of slimy lizard innards into the mess. The boy had looked as awake and alert as ever, which prompted a rather annoyed discussion on the appropriateness of staying awake and obnoxious after people had gone to bed after Severus had banished the pile.

The next night, Severus awoke at two thirty to the sound of melodic violin playing. He lay in bed for a while, thinking that at least it was better than exploding the building with "experiments", but that it was entirely too loud. He'd marched right back over to the small room and thrown open the door to find the tiny genius playing his instrument with his eyes fluttered half closed in front of his bedroom window. After seeing the genius tucked back into bed, Severus left the room ignoring the half-hearted glare being thrown at his back.

The next night, Severus hadn't woken up at all, much to his surprise. So, he'd crept silently down to the boy's room only to find it warded shut with locking hexes and silencing spells. The cheeky brat.

Thus, began Severus' habit of dumping sleeping potion into random food or drink items during dinner, or after dinner tea. Sherlock still had the habit that most previously starving people had of wolfing down food, barely tasting it. At least, he did when he actually ate of his own accord. Other times, Severus had to bully the boy into eating at all and it was getting concerning enough that the Potion Master had made an appointment with the Malfoy's personal healer to get his stomach examined, only to find the tiny boy's organs in a horrible state that explained his admittedly alarming size.

After that, sleeping aids weren't the only potions Severus habitually slipped into Sherlock's food.

The night before Sherlock's birthday was no different, and Severus had managed to mask the taste of several carefully prepared medicinal potions in a special tea he'd bought earlier that week that had a rather intense flavor. This lead to the boy in question waking up around ten o'clock feeling rested and relaxed…and hungry.

Sherlock sighed and shoved off his covers, planting his feet on the floor, shivering slightly as the blankets fell away from him and he was accosted by early-morning air. A glance to the right revealed that Severus had opened his window to let in fresh air sometime earlier that morning. The curtains fluttered slightly as the wind blew into the small room. Taking a deep breath, savoring the sweet breeze, Sherlock stood, rolling his shoulders, then padded in stocking feet over to his wardrobe.

He pulled open the thick oak doors and stared blankly at his growing collection of clothes. It would grow too warm later in the day to wear his coat, but it was currently rather chilly. Sherlock spared a moment to scowl unforgivingly out the window, hoping childishly that whatever being in control of the weather saw his displeasure. Then he grabbed a light shirt, muggle trousers and a stolen "John Sweater" that was only slightly too big for him.

It was nearly eleven by the time he was finished preparing for the day, and Sherlock was feeling ravenous. The smells wafting up from the kitchen weren't helping anything either. Omelets, light and easy on his stomach. Gratitude was a feeling that previously Sherlock only really felt towards John or, on occasion, Mrs. Hudson. However, it was frequently becoming a common emotion that Sherlock associated with Severus, now that he'd been staying with the man for little over a month and Merlin, where had the time gone?

"I was just about to go drag your lazy arse out of bed," Severus commented as he flipped the omelet he was cooking, adding in various ingredients and spices. The man looked relaxed today, his limbs loose as he moved about the kitchen, and his posture was as relaxed as Sherlock had ever seen him. "You're going to be late for the party," a plate was unceremoniously plopped in front of him, loaded down with food. A diced tomato rolled down the side of the pile and plopped onto the table. Sherlock looked at it thoughtlessly until a glass of white grape juice (probably laced with healing potions) startled him as Severus thumped it down onto the table cloth quite soundly. "I expect at least half of it eaten, or I'll ban your head minion from the festivities, today."

Sherlock gave his guardian a token glare and out of spite began eating his breakfast with his hands, smirking at the overly heavy sigh he was rewarded with. He nearly managed three quarters of his plate before a hint of the familiar lumpy sensation in his gut made him stop and refuse to eat anymore, though a look from Severus had him gulping down his juice, which settled his stomach somewhat.

***1047***

Neville and Sherlock were having a joint party, as they had mostly the same group of friends, and Sherlock didn't feel like attending two large social gatherings in a row. It was held on a mostly wooded property that the Longbottom's owned, tables and decorations set up in a large clearing. All of the first years from all four houses, the Weasley children, the Lovegood girl, and a few older students (like Diggory from Hufflepuff or Flint from Slytherin) who were friends or friendly with the birthday boys were in attendance. An area for a mock Quidditch game and other party activities (like pin the fangs on the Basilisk or a scavenger hunt and a piñata) were set up. On a circular table, a huge red and gold eighteen layer cake with twelve candles on the lowest layer and twelve on the top most, flickered as Mr. Weasley and Professor Flitwick lit them one by one.

Most of the professors came for the occasion, except Dumbledore who claimed to be too busy, and professors who were yet to teach either birthday boy like Sinestra or Babbling. Minerva and Molly were balancing the enormous two tables filled with presents (one for Nev and one for Sherlock), Sprout and Hooch were attempting to help organize a Quidditch game with three times the ordinary number of players, and Neville was dragging his friends around on the scavenger hunt looking for various magical plant specimens.

"Who created this list?" Sherlock asked in disgust. "Eucharis grandiflora aren't even native to this area!" ("Ten points to Gryffindor!" shouted out Sprout who was just barely within earshot. "That doesn't count!" declared Severus. "We'll just have to mark it down come start of semester" retorted Minerva.)

"I found a leprechaun mushroom" said Luna Lovegood happily just before taking a bite of it. "They give you good luck in finding gold and manure deposits." She chewed thoughtfully, closing her eyes in bliss as though she were eating caviar and not a slightly muddy fungus she'd pulled off a rotting, fallen tree.

"That was a Tulostoma Niveumis," corrected Neville shyly, looking appalled that she'd just taken a bite out of it. Luna sniffed it lightly, her nose twitching like a rabbit. "I can't remember if it was poisonous or not..." ("Five points to Gryffindor!" "Still doesn't count!")

****1047****

It was nightfall by the time all of the activities, cake supply and mountain of presents had been exhausted, and the children were feeling just as worn out. With the number of adult wizards there, clean up was short work, so by the time the last child was picked up the clearing looked pristine, like it was still untouched by human hands (if you ignored the many various plants which had 11-year-old-girl-sized bites missing from them).

"Alright, boys, Ginny, time to go!" Arthur called out cheerfully, feeling slightly regretful when he saw his smallest boy and Sherlock sitting cuddled up together underneath a tall pine tree. "Come on, now, Ronnie," Arthur said soothingly. "We're going to the Alley together tomorrow, remember?" he asked as he approached the two, who were looking very sorrowful indeed.

"Even Severus?" asked Sherlock. Arthur shook his head.

"He has to prepare for the school year," Mr. Weasley explained. "There's a staff meeting at Hogwarts he can't miss, so he asked for my family to care for you tomorrow instead."

"It's getting late, and unless you want a certain something forcibly poured down your throat tonight, I suggest you hurry up and get over here," called the stern voice of the Hogwart's Potion Master. Arthur looked confused and the twins looked alarmed.

"He makes me take potions," Sherlock whined to John.

"Good" said the little Weasley, looking entirely unsympathetic. Sherlock harrumphed and stood up abruptly, marching irately over to his guardian while the Weasley Clan giggled together behind him as Severus placed a firm hand on Sherlock's shoulder and apparated away.

*****1047*****

"…if I hear one word from Arthur that you misbehaved at all, you'll be grounded until school starts. Do I make myself quite clear?"

"Yes," Sherlock nodded firmly. "Bribe the Weasleys to keep quiet. With how poor they are it shouldn't be too ha—ow!" Sherlock was cut off by a sharp yank to his ear. "That's how Edison went deaf, you know" Sherlock informed Severus sullenly.

"If that ever happens I shall heal you straight away," assured Severus. "So that I may do it again." Sherlock scowled. "No frivolous spending. I don't care if you get extra things, but I don't want your room filled with meaningless junk. And don't go into Nocturn Alley." Severus' hand had migrated from Sherlock's ear to the back of the boy's head, forcing the now twelve year old to look the professor in the eyes. Sherlock jutted out his bottom lip, looking more adorable than either of them cared to admit.

"But you took me there."

"Exactly. I did." Severus gently, almost playfully yanked a handful of Sherlock's hair. "Arthur wouldn't know the first thing about staying safe in such a place. You'd probably get yourself eaten by a vampire or sold to a werewolf for meat."

"…is that a thing?"
"I'm sure I don't want to know. Now, give me your hand."

Severus apparated them both to a back alley near the Leaky Cauldron, then walked Sherlock the short distance to the dingy pub where the Weasley clan were already waiting for them to arrive. "Right on time!" Molly said cheerfully, looking at Sherlock with a critical gaze that filled him with the irrational desire to hide behind Severus. The pub seemed to be less crowded than normal, but nevertheless every eye in there seemed to be trained on him, same as every time Sherlock had come in here before, even when most people didn't recognize him as the "Boy Who Lived".

"Obviously" Severus' hand left Sherlock's and with a final "Be good" the man walked away swiftly, and out the low door, his outer robes whipping noisily as he went. The Weasley's watched him go in part amusement, part resignation.

"Cheerful, isn't he?" muttered George, making the stink eye at the door Severus had just slammed shut. Arthur rubbed at his mouth, trying to cover a grin.

"Right ray of sunshine" his twin agreed.

"He doesn't like teacher meetings" Sherlock felt the need to explain as he reached for John's hand, pulling the slightly taller boy closer. "I need to stop by the bank first. I spent all the money I had on me over the summer."

"On what?" John asked, amused as he wrapped his arms around Sherlock.

"Experiments John," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "And books on mermish. It's a much harder language than Aeldin led me to believe."

"Who's Aeldin?" asked Percy as the group of children followed the two adults into the busy chaos of the Alley.

"The boy who lives in my head." Sherlock answered. "He's very knowledgeable about the wizarding world." The redheaded prefect obviously didn't know what to say in response to that, so he wisely said nothing at all, instead deciding to call out to Ginny, who was trailing red-faced behind the rest of the pack.

"Luna said your sister is infected with wrackspurts," Sherlock said to John, low enough that the girl couldn't hear him. "Is that why her face is always so red?"

"How should I know?"

"You're a doctor."

"For muggles Sherlock. I don't even know what wrackspurts are."

"They live in your head and make your thoughts fuzzy."

"You really shouldn't listen to Luna."

"But she's so fascinating. Did you know she watched her mother explode, right in front of her? Now she and her father go theastral watching every late summer."

"Merlin, Sherlock. You seriously didn't ask her about her dead mother, did you?"

"She asked about mine, and you told me once that it was polite to return a question after answering it. I was just being nice."

"Sherlock! There's nothing nice about asking about exploding mothers!"
The bickering lasted all the way down to Sherlock's vault. They were accompanied by a goblin and Arthur, as Molly was going to the Weasley vault. To Arthur's credit, he didn't even bat an eye when Sherlock's vault door opened to reveal an enormous amount of gold, silver and copper coins. "I'm buying my John's things," Sherlock told his friend's father as John blushed furiously. "You needn't worry about him at all."

Arthur seemed to be fighting a frown and a smile at the same time. "Sherlock, kiddo, as his parent it's my job to provide for him."

"No"

"Sherlock— "

"I want to." Arthur just looked at Sherlock carefully, then at the money pile remaining in the vault and sighed, looking resigned, but grateful. "Alright," said Arthur. "Just this once." Sherlock didn't agree to that, but he did smile blindingly, which eased some of the immense guilt in Mister Weasley's stomach.

***1047***

The day was hot, and there was only a sparse amount of clouds in the sky overhead. All this adding with the impossible number of people crammed together in the dusty, noisy Alley was starting to give Sherlock a headache.

And Sherlock didn't like headaches. So, when asked where the children wanted to go, Sherlock immediately demanded they go to the bookstore, remembering that all the past times they'd been in there it had been mostly empty and blissfully quiet. Arthur had volunteered to take the twins to get everyone's potion supplies while Molly eagerly stated she'd loved to visit the bookstore with the children.

Unfortunately for Sherlock, Florish and Blotts did not provide the calm that he'd been wanted. Instead witches of all ages seemed to have decided that right then was the perfect time to form a mob inside the store. Dozens were calling, screaming out to somebody. Dozens more seemed to be crying, whilst waving their arms. The few that weren't practically foaming at the mouth were still awkwardly craning their heads around the other people, trying to get a look at something.

"Disgusting display," drawled a voice to Sherlock's left. There was Lucius Malfoy arm in arm with Narcissa, his other arm gracefully cradling some sort of bundle. Mycroft had his nose stuck in a book, though he quickly put it down when he realized who they were standing near. "Honestly," Lucius sounded very close to whining. "I went to school with that plebe; he's got the brains of a flobberworm and the personality of a peacock in heat."

Narcissa coughed delicately into her hand, while Molly looked scandalized. Percy had to try very hard to cover up a snort of mirth. "Who?" Sherlock asked, fingers clinging to John's robes, his eyebrows drawn together and voice tense. John looked at him in concern.

"Lockhart something or other. Some famous author Mum likes. I think he's supposed to be some sort of explorer or the like. Haven't read any of his books though."

"Lockhart…" Sherlock frowned deeper. "His books were on the list for Hogwarts this year."

"The esteemed headmaster" Lucius drawled, hearing the boy, "has deemed the honorable Gilderoy Lockhart a suitable candidate for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor." He then turned to his wife. "I vote for just owl ordering the entire mess. Or, better yet," he looked over at his son "how do you feel about Durmstrang?" Both mother and son rolled their eyes.

"We're already here, darling," Narcissa said plaintively. "We may as well grab the books, come Sherlock, we can get yours while you're at it."

Sherlock instinctively moved after the tall, willowy woman, not really hearing Mrs. Weasley's indignant "He doesn't have to listen to the likes of you!" as he moved into the crowd. He drug John along with him, prompting the two other Weasley children present to follow as well. Ginny grabbed a spare shopping basket and grabbed a discounted potion text book off of a shelf.

"Where are the Lockhart books?" she asked "None of them are under the L section—oh," she stopped because they're reached the center of the store. And there was the man himself surrounded by sobbing/screaming/handsy witches and reporters at a table filled with his merchandise. Lucius flicked his wand and several copies of each book lazily floated over people's heads and into the hands of each of the children, including and extra two copies for the twins.

"Thank you, Lord Malfoy," Percy said, genuinely, prompting a small smile from the blonde man. But before Lucius could say anything in return, they were interrupted by a grating voice shouting out "Good Lord! Is that Harry Potter?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the man, taking in his appearance despite his pounding head. Overly kempt appearance, probably gay but closeted and so flounces about with beards. Muggleborn than, wizarding families don't hold to such bigotry. No, half-blood. Muggle father, but witch mother, who spoiled him. Colorblind…just look at his robes. Very obviously, a Narcissist. Suffered from insecurities as a young child, due to unrealistic expectations from parents. Still suffers: too dumb to be worth anything but smart enough to know it—

His brain was cut off by a hand pulling him forcibly away from John, causing both boy's to instinctively cry out and reach for each other. A camera flash caught the moment while further causing Sherlock discomfort as he blinked rapidly trying to regain his vision. "Lucius!" He tried to called out, though an arm muffled his cry. "Harry, my boy!"

Sherlock tried biting the arm that was covering his face but it moved too quickly. "What an opportunity! Smile for the camera's my boy! Together, you and me are most certainly worth the front pa—ah!" Sherlock flipped the curly haired wizard over his own shoulder, and Lockhart gasped for breath as he lay on his back, the camera's flashing repeatedly.

Without wasting another second, Sherlock ran back to where the Malfoy's and Weasley's were waiting. By this time, Arthur was just appearing, and was looking rather livid. Lucius looked reading to murder the author. In his haste, Sherlock collided with the Malfoy matriarch, who bumped into her husband, causing the contents of his bundle to spill onto Ginny, who in turn dropped her basket of books. Lucius apologized quickly to her before leaving the girl and Mycroft to pick up the various items before turning worriedly to Sherlock to inspect the boy.

"Are you alright?" Lucius asked, kneeling, at Sherlock's nod he rapidly rose, drawing his wand and training it on the still gasping Gilderoy. "Listen here, Lockhart," Malfoy sneered at the man. "Sherlock Potter is under the protection of the Malfoy family, and should you lay hands on the child again I will see you in court before the Wizengamot!"

"Obviously," Lockhart said, getting to his feet and resuming his confident pose. Though he wasn't addressing Malfoy, but rather the press. "Mr. Malfoy as a confirmed Dark wizard would hold me in low esteem after all I am after all Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class; Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League; and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile." He then flashed said smile, but a calm voice spoke up which was heard over the clamoring of the reporters and fangirls.

"Excuse me," said Arthur Weasley, his wand also out and joining Lord Malfoy's in the air. "But I'd rather you didn't slander my friend in public. My friend, who, I might add, was never voluntarily involved in the Dark Arts. Or, do you consider yourself above the Wizengamot?" Lucius threw a money bag at the counter, then lead his family and the Weasley's out of the store.

"Honestly, Draco darling what do you think of Durmstrang?" Narcissa asked

"I here Bulgaria is beautiful this time of year," Arthur added in good humor, causing Lucius to chuckle.

"Arthur—" Molly tried to say something, looking both irate and puzzled, but she went unnoticed when Ginny thanked Mycroft for helping her pick up her things, which Mycroft graciously waved away.

"I must be going," Lucius said, "I've an appointment to keep. But I do hope your day improves from here." Arthur returned the remark and then watched as the Malfoys turned down the street and disappeared into the crowd.

"Arthur!" Molly said, reprovingly. "You just aligned our family with the Malfoys! In front of the press!"

"The Malfoy's have been good to Sherlock," Arthur said sternly. "And they are kind to Ronald. Furthermore, young Draco is a good lad. I've heard from numerous sources that he doesn't act at all like those other entitled purebloods. He never calls anyone out for their blood or affinity. Hagrid himself told me that Draco's 'a real sweetheart'. Hagrid, Molly. Hagrid said that."

"Hagrid likes everybody!"

"Let's go, John."

"Coming."

"Wait for us, mate!"

"Lead on oh, fearless leader!"

"I'm in."

"Can we get ice cream?"

"Boys? Boys! Ginny! Where are you going?"

"Hold up!"

"Arthur! Get back here!"
*****1047*****

The teacher meeting got over reasonably early, mostly due to the fact that their new DADA teacher had deemed it more worthy of his time to schedule a book signing rather than attending. So, Severus had made his way to his quarters in the dungeons, reveling in the fact that his ward was taken care of for the day, and so he had a moment to himself for the first time since he'd taken in the brat.

Of course, the moment he'd poured himself a glass of Ogden's Best, the all—too familiar sight of a ministry owl swooped in through the floo. With a growl of frustration, Severus slammed his glass onto his counter with enough forced to cause a hair-line crack to form, beads of alcohol forming and dribbling down the sides, to pool around the base of the cup.

Severus glared at the little bird, who calmly ruffled and preened its feathers, all with its leg still jutted out as it stood on the back of one of Severus' wooden chairs, balanced like some sort of circus tightrope walker. The small scroll tied to the extended appendage was marked with the familiar Wizengamot seal. The owl hooted once, and almost seemed to shake its leg in a Go on, I haven't got all day, gesture.

Severus snatched the scroll, causing the thing to squawk in anger and fly at him, talon's raised. Severus snarled at it, even as he ducked to avoid a collision between the bird and his face. He batted his arms at it, making his loose teaching robes flutter about like the wings of the bat-creature all his students swore he was.

"Out!" Severus commanded the owl, shooting a beam of harmless light at it. The owl swooped and dodged and hissed before leaving once more. "Blasted Ministry flying rats" Severus mutter darkly as he sat heavily down. He only bothered reading the first few lines before throwing the entire thing into his fireplace.

"To the honorable Lord Snape-Prince,

You are requested to join the Wizengamot for an emergency meeting concerning the arrest of once Mundungus Fletcher, who as caught dancing nude atop a Muggle residence loudly declaring wizarding information, such as where to locate—"

Shouting a few uncharitable things about Mr. Fletcher, Severus summoned a quill, ink pot and roll of parchment to him. Seeing as he already managed to obtain Lordship, there was no reason to keep the damn position any longer. Severus smiled maliciously, but there was no reason to not spread some good will around, he thought as he began to pen Arthur Weasley's name onto the sheet.

****1047****

IDK, it seemed a bit rushed to me. Hey, guys! If there's anywhere that I could improve on, or a point you'd like me to expand on, just let me know in the reviews! Also, in answer to a PM and to any future requests, you may most certainly write a parody of my story, or your own version or whatever. Just please let me know so I can read it, and also it'd be nice of you to mention Magic of Deduction in the summary or AN or something.

Anyway, Hope you guys liked it!