Guess who finally updated?! It's about damn time, am I right? I finally got my writing muse back this week, so hopefully I'll be doing a lot more writing and finish up the rest of my unfinished stories! This fic will probably have one more chapter before it's finished. Exciting things! Anyways, feel free to leave a review. I love reading what you guys have to say!
Hamish was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement as he and his parents got ready to go shopping in Diagon Alley. Sherlock had taken him there once or twice when he was younger, but he hadn't been back since John found out. However, with classes starting in a few weeks, John reluctantly agreed to accompany them.
John was terrified. He was going to a place where he would be surrounded by magic folk of all kinds, where he would be looked down upon for being different. He stood in the bathroom, his knuckles white from gripping the counter tightly to keep his hands from shaking as he stared ahead at his reflection in the mirror. His face was pale, enhancing the lines across his forehead and creases by his eyes. Maybe he could just tell Sherlock that he wasn't feeling well? Or that he got called in to the surgery for work? The more he thought about bailing on their plans, the more guilty he felt. Hamish would be devastated and John had to be there for his little boy.
There was a knock at the door, but John didn't take his eyes off his reflection. "What?" He croaked, his voice hoarse.
He wasn't surprised when Sherlock opened the door and stepped inside, his brows furrowed with concern. "John? You've been in here for almost an hour. We need to leave now if we want to get there before the rush." Sherlock placed his hand on John's back, rubbing it gently.
"I just don't think I'm feeling up to it today…" John replied after a moment.
Sherlock sighed at his words. "Not feeling up to it or don't want to go?"
John bit his lip as he closed his eyes for a moment. "I can't do it, Sherlock. I can't. This is your and Hamish's thing. Not mine."
"He wants you there, John. He wants to share this experience with you. It doesn't matter if you're magical or not. You're his dad and he wants you to come with us."
John opened his mouth to reply, but was stopped by the sound of their son's voice. "Dad, come on! We need to go before all the shops fill up!"
John glanced at Sherlock, who was giving him the puppy-eyed look that he had always tried so hard to resist, and let out a heavy sigh of defeat. "I'll be right there, Hamish." Sherlock smiled and pressed a light kiss to John's cheek before going off to make sure that Hamish was all ready to go.
John pulled on his jumper before fixing his hair slightly and went out to meet them. Hamish handed John his coat, gripping his school supply list in his other hand. He took the jacket from his son and pulled it on before stepping into his shoes. They were finally ready to go.
Sherlock had wanted to use the floo network to get there, but John had advised against it. They couldn't scare poor Mrs. Hudson like that. So, the three of them went out to the street and hailed a taxi before piling in. "The Leaky Cauldron," Sherlock told the driver, who sped off towards the other side of London.
John stared blankly out the window as Hamish and Sherlock went over the list, figuring out where they would go first. He ignored them as he tried to calm his nerves.
After what had seemed like forever to John, they had finally arrived at the pub. He paid the driver before getting out of the taxi. He knew that Sherlock wouldn't; he rarely carried muggle money with him, especially on occasions such as these. By the time John had finally gotten out of the taxi, Sherlock and Hamish were already making their way into the pub. However, they would have gotten there sooner if it wasn't for John. Being a muggle, he couldn't get inside without them.
The three of them made their way into the Leaky Cauldron, John glancing around nervously. The pub was filled with people wearing brightly colored robes and cloaks, many of them wearing funny-looking hats. He didn't know what to make of it at first, since it seemed almost comical at first. Who in their right mind would wear those sort of clothes out in public?
As they walked through the pub towards the back door, John couldn't help but notice the menacing looks that some of the patrons were giving him. He subconsciously reached forward and grabbed onto the sleeve of Sherlock's coat. The detective glanced back at him with furrowed brows, but said nothing until they were out in the back alley behind the Leaky Cauldron.
He took hold of John's hand, lacing their fingers together as he pulled his wand out of his coat pocket. He gave him a reassuring smile as he reached out and tapped the brick wall with his wand, waiting to see John's reaction as the bricks began to move aside and open the way to Diagon Alley. The doctor's eyes widened and he squeezed Sherlock's hand, his own shaking.
John stayed close to Sherlock and put his arm protectively around Hamish, who was grinning brightly. "John?" The doctor looked up at Sherlock, chewing his lip as he leant down to gently kiss his cheek. "You'll be fine. I'll be with you the entire time." John nodded his head slowly and they started off into the busy area.
Sherlock led him through the streets, Hamish running ahead of them in excitement. "Hamish, come back here!" John called out to him as Sherlock let out a low chuckle.
"Leave him be, John. Just let him be a kid for once," Sherlock told him.
"Oh, that's funny coming from the one who is constantly making him study or practice playing the violin." He nudged him in the side before frowning slightly. "Sherlock, where, exactly, are we going?"
"To Ollivander's, of course," he replied as if it were the stupidest question he'd heard.
"What's that?" John looked up at him in confusion before looking back at Hamish, making sure he didn't get too far ahead of them.
"Mr. Ollivander is a wandmaker. He's the one who sold me mine when I was eleven."
The doctor nodded his head slowly, noticing the sign for the shop in the distance. Hamish stopped and turned around to look at them with a smile. "Dad! Father! There it is!"
"Go on inside!" Sherlock called back to him. "We'll be right there!"
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" John asked worriedly.
Sherlock came to a stop with a heavy sigh and turned John to face him, taking both of his hands in his own. "John, this is normal. All of this is. I just… I need you to trust me." He carefully brought one of John's hands to his lips, taking in his still worried expression. "You're not still scared, are you?"
John glanced around nervously, not meeting his eyes.
Sherlock let out a sigh and gently turned the doctor's head to make him look at him. "John, you have nothing to be afraid of. I'm right here with you and I'm not going anywhere."
"I know," John replied quietly. "I'm trying, Sherlock. I really am. It's just… With all the stories you've told me… Can you really blame me for being so scared?"
"I would never let anything happen to you. You know that. Now, come on. Hamish has probably gotten his wand by now."
John nodded his head, forcing a small smile. He had to at least try to show that he was happy for his son. Sherlock led him into the shop as Mr. Ollivander was returning a wand to its box and handing it over to Hamish. "You've got your wand picked out, I see?" John asked him.
"No, Dad!" Hamish responded with a roll of his eyes. "I didn't choose it. It chose me."
Sherlock chuckled softly as he went over to pay the man for the wand as John stared at them all in confusion. The three of them left the shop and headed for the bookstore. "Flourish and Blott's," John read the sign aloud. "Interesting names."
"Old wizarding families," Sherlock replied. "Not nearly as old as the Ollivanders, but they've still been around for quite a long time." John nodded his head in understanding as Sherlock turned to their son. "Hamish, why don't you and your dad go browse for a bit while I get your school books?"
The little boy nodded his head with an excited smile as he grabbed his dad's hand and dragged him down one of the many aisles. The two of them found books of all sorts. There were books about dragons and other magical creatures and John could never have dreamed were real. There were books on magical medicine, wand making, famous wizards from every century.
John was reading a book about merpeople aloud to Hamish when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Enjoying yourselves?" Sherlock asked them with a smirk.
John smiled at him slightly as he put the book away, Hamish telling his father all about the different books that they had found. He took Sherlock's hand and the three of them exited the shop.
An hour later and they were nearly finished with their shopping. They had gotten everything that Hamish would need. From quills and parchment, to a cauldron and potion ingredients. They had only one thing left to buy before they could head back to Baker Street.
Hamish pulled his parents along as they made their way to the apothecary. He kept babbling on and on about how he couldn't decide whether he wanted an owl, cat, or toad. John simply listened as Sherlock explained to their son why an owl would be the best choice, and he agreed. How else would they be able to stay in touch with him while he was away at school?
When they had arrived at the apothecary, Hamish quickly made his way over to the owls. John was in awe of how many different breeds that they had there: snowy owls, great horned owls, barn owls. There were so many, he didn't know how Hamish would be able to choose just one.
After Sherlock had given him a synopsis of each of the breeds, Hamish finally chose a beautiful eagle owl. They purchased the bird and decided to take the floo network back home. They didn't know how a taxi driver would react to them having an owl with them.
They used the apothecary's fireplace, Hamish going first with the owl, which he fondly named Archimedes. Next, John and Sherlock stepped into the fireplace together, fingers entwined. "221B Baker Street," Sherlock said as he dropped the floo powder and they were whisked away to their flat.
John was a bit uneasy on his feet at first and nearly fell over when he took a step. But Sherlock kept his arm around his waist to steady him and carefully lowered him down into his chair. Hamish was up in his bedroom, putting his things away in his trunk.
Sherlock sat down on the arm of John's chair and affectionately ran his fingers through the doctor's hair. "Was it as bad as you thought it would be?"
John let out a quiet sigh. "No, but that doesn't mean I'm itching to go back anytime soon."
Sherlock chuckled, gently lifting John's chin and pecking his lips lightly. "I won't force you to go back."
John smiled at him as Hamish came bursting into the room. "Father, I can't find my wand!" Sherlock reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the wand box, handing it to Hamish who smiled in relief as he took it from him. "Thank you," he said as he ran back upstairs.
John shook his head at the boy. "I swear, he gets more and more like you everyday. I mean, Archimedes? What eleven year old names their owl that? Let alone know who he is."
"He's so much more like you than you think," Sherlock replied. "He was telling me just the other day how he wanted to work at St. Mungo's once he's finished with school."
"I'm sorry, is that supposed to mean something?"
"That's the wizarding hospital, John. He wants to be able to help people. Just like you do."
"And what do you do? Sit around in your house coat all day? Sherlock, you help people, too. Do you have any idea how many lives you've saved? How many times you've saved me?"
"Yes, but I did that because I had to. You do it because you want to."
John let out a heavy sigh, remaining silent for a moment. "Two more weeks until he leaves… I don't know how I'll be able to handle it."
"You'll be alright. I promise. He'll be back before you know it. And know that Mycroft is one of the school governors, we'll always know how he's doing, if he's getting into trouble."
John nodded before resting his head against Sherlock's side. He silently hoped that Hamish would change his mind and no longer want to go away to Hogwarts, but he knew that would never happen.