Another one! :) I think this is the longest I've written till now but I hope you like it. :D Reviews:
Sarah: Yup. Theodore Nott, fellow Slytherin in Harry's year and how they came to be friends, maybe I'll write a one-shot? It'll be fun :D And I'm happy the characters are being brought out okay, I mean I kind of expected them to be lacking in some field of my description. lol
embir: Thank you so much! I'm really happy you like it! :D And see, I updated within 24 hours of your review! :D Thank you so much again! :)
And also, I kind of reupdated(?) Chapter 2, don't know if you noticed, it's not much though, rereading is your wish. Please do visit the bottom of my profile though, it's kinda important.
On with it: ENJOY!
Chapter 4:
"What's wrong?" John asked as soon as he and Sherlock were seated safely in the back of a taxi, taking them back to the subway, from where they could safely take another cab back to the flat.
Sherlock had been frowning the entire time, ever since they had set foot at the crime scene- a young man had been found dead on his own couch. He seemed to have been watching TV while he appeared to have stabbed himself. He had solved the case within fifteen minutes- since the door of the apartment had been locked from inside, no one could have left (the other doors and windows were bolted too). The reports had said that there was no kind of medical problem- no history of drugs, just some amount of alcohol in the body. Sherlock deduced that the drug had been mixed with a rare chemical which was found in the human intestines and was added to his drink, which he seemed to have consumed two days before. The only sign of the drug was laziness and most victims ignored it. The speciality was that it initiated a self-destruction phenomenon of such a kind that the victim felt he was hallucinating while he performed the likely acts which would take his own life.
Sherlock had explained it all in detail to Lestrade and then had kept mum about everything until they were seated in the taxi, where he sighed softly.
"Something was wrong. It looked too easy. Everything was too properly and easily placed, just… just sitting there innocently waiting for me to come and deduce. It was like a puzzle especially laid out in the open for me,'specially for me. Like, I don't know, like someone knew my style. And, that drug- it's not easy to get hold of, John. It's only available on special order. Special order. Only someone like Mycroft or the likes could get hold of that thing. I think it was a distraction. Or a set up."
"But then, how would the killer know, Sherlock? How would he know exactly that you'd be called in this time or… or if the body would be found at this time? I mean if it's a distraction, then from what exactly is it?" John argued, this time actually thinking that Sherlock's theory was a bit too far-fetched.
"You're right." Sherlock said after a few beats of heavy silence.
"And how it pains you to admit it, I can see very well."
Sherlock grinned at him then, his mind likely distracted. 'Well, time to work it properly then.' John thought before taking the dive.
"Did you notice it today? That scar?" he asked, hoping Sherlock would know what he was referring to.
"Ah yes!" his friend's face twisted in morbid curiosity and concentration, "I remember, I only saw the one on the wrist for a moment but it looked more like a scar. I even thought it was a tattoo of some sort with writing and all, but no, it was a scar. Pity we won't have a closer look at them any time soon though, since Hermione's been wearing long sleeves all the times I saw her. I do wonder where she got them; it's fascinating, isn't it?"
"Them? As in, plural? I only saw the one on the wrist." John asked, suddenly sitting straighter. No matter how hard he tried, he always missed something or the other.
"There was one on the neck. It was completely uncovered so I got a good look at it. A knife. Isn't it interesting John, that our newest flatmate is barely twenty-five and has already been held on knife-point at least once in her life?"
"I don't think it's that interesting." John replied, trying to sound off-hand-ish but Sherlock stared back at him with mirth shining in those blue-grey eyes of his, until he relented. "Oh fine, it's not very interesting in your way, just a bit curious."
"And the boy- he belongs to a rich family, spoilt in his childhood but most likely, something dreadful happened in his teenage years, because of which he had to take up on the drinking. He's not necessarily a drunk, only has been drinking since he was young. Also, most likely didn't have a proper childhood or homely atmosphere. Oh, and did you notice, he also had an antique sort of ring on his finger, not like Hermione, it just looked like an heirloom. And his origins are definitely from Italy; the accent was distinct. But.."
"But?" John prompted, admittedly not having noticed all of that.
"Well, don't you think something's off?" Sherlock asked with a frown, looking at John with concern. About what, he didn't know.
"Umm, no?" John replied uncertainly.
Sherlock exhaled, looking irritated, and pressed the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb.
"Well, I do, John. Something just feels missing. Though I don't know what, yet. And now that she's going to be around, I guess we can easily find out." Sherlock said, folding his hands in his typical thinking pose and staring at the seat cover in front of his face.
John immediately felt that he would have to improve his distraction tactics if he wanted to live a normal and peaceful life. Though it was obviously impossible with Sherlock, John personally felt that this Hermione Granger character was something more than what scratched the surface.
Her presence just, kind of, made him feel on high alert. As, inhumane, for the lack of a better word, Sherlock seemed to behave, John hardly thought the detective would have any of those feelings against Hermione Granger. Except, of course, curiosity in learning her life story.
The sight that greeted them when they reached back home at 221B, was really not what John had been expecting. Well, he had expected everything a little more messy, at least.
Hermione was sitting on the couch, inspecting what looked like pancakes. And the unknown boy was fiddling with another one with a knife. Cutting it open or something?
Hermione looked up as the door opened and smiled warmly at seeing them.
"Ah, you're back. Exactly in time actually, I just made pancakes." She said, getting up from the couch and quickly rushing to the kitchen. Her blue button down shirt's sleeves were drawn over her arms and she had a red and gold thick scarf hanging around her neck.
"I don't think we were properly introduced." The dark haired man said, abandoning the knife and piece of food, and stood up from his place to shake John's hand. "Theodore Nott. Nice to meet you. You've got a great place here, by the way."
John smiled uncertainly. What kind of weird people were they suddenly meeting these days, who seemed to take an immediate liking to their unorganised little flat-laboratory?
"John Watson. Ex- Army Doctor. Good to meet you too."
"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said, thrusting his hand out for the man to shake.
Theo looked uncertain for a second for shaking Sherlock's hand firmly and nodding at the detective.
"We'll just change in a bit and be back." John said as Sherlock left the room before him without any prologue.
John indulged himself in a quick shower, while smelling freshly baked pancakes and soon returned to the living room where Hermione was already back with another plate and tea.
"Did you try that trick with the insides?" Theo had been asking and Hermione returned his question with an irritated glance and by plucking the knife out of his hands.
"I really don't like that trick, when will you get that in your fat head?" Hermione replied, flipping through the book John had been reading earlier that day.
"Oi! No part of my amazing body is fat! Except-"
He was graciously silenced by a pancake being shoved into his mouth by a ticked-off looking Hermione.
"Have some." Hermione offered politely and John took one, even though he thought she looked kind of scary since her hair seemed to stand on end, a bit.
Sherlock entered then and took a pancake, silently offered by Hermione.
"So you two are friends?" Sherlock asked innocently.
"Yeah." Came the scuffed reply from both the sides.
"How did you-"
"Mate, I heard you've got frog's eyes in here?" Theo asked suddenly, obviously not having paid attention to what Sherlock was saying.
"Under that." John pointed quickly before Sherlock could protest.
Theo had retrieved the substance in question from the pointed place and was inspecting them closely. "Ah, these are the normal ones, aren't they? Can I borrow them? Thanks." He said, moving to the kitchen without waiting for any reply or a backward glance.
"Don't look so shocked Mr. Watson." Hermione chuckled, "He's basically a chef and he also loves experimenting with his ingredients."
"They're edible?" John asked, almost gagging on the pancake.
"Yes." Hermione laughed, "Though I made the pancakes so they're safe."
"Are you going to stay the night Ms. Granger?" Sherlock asked unexpectedly, though that was only for John, Hermione must have thought it to be polite on the man's part.
"No, actually, my paperwork is still at the old place and half of it is at work and this brat's got an appointment tomorrow. I bet he doesn't even remember it." She replied, finally placing the book back and hollered loudly towards the kitchen "THEO!"
"I'm coming, Rowdy." The boy muttered impatiently.
"We're going?" he asked, seeing Hermione standing up.
"Yeah. Do you remember that appointment tomorrow?"
Theo's eyes widened comically in shock and he slapped a hand to his forehead. "Shit! Oh NO!"
"Exactly." Hermione said, mostly to John, and departed, after promising to meet them tomorrow at 4 in the evening, then following Theo closely as he ran down the stairs.
"Don't touch the eyes in the kettle!" John heard Theo shout before the front door slammed downstairs.
As soon as that happened, he was called by Sherlock hissing his name from the window.
"John!" Sherlock said, pointing outside. The unmistakable mass of Hermione's hair disappeared into an expensive looking black car, which soon zoomed at a relatively high speed through the traffic.
"That's Benz S-Guard 600. Impressive. It's not even normally seen outside a palace. High security car." Sherlock whistled almost inaudibly after that.
"Quite rich then." John agreed quietly, not really knowing what to say.
Sherlock went back to his- doing something and John decided that he wanted to catch up on the blog since he hadn't really got much to do for quite some time.
In hindsight, John never expected that mentioning that a Hermione Granger now sharing a flat with him and the famous detective would have earned such an extreme response.
Note: This chapter has been edited/Beta-d as of 25/3/14.
TADA! How was this? Is anyone excited about what's going to happen? Hermione isn't even in yet and John will be at his wit's end soon, Sherlock following closely, lol. :D
Anyway, the next chapter won't be what you think it will be, zzz. :D
Please review! I love reading your opinions on this! And it helps me to write sooner and update faster, not to mention, my day goes really well. :)
Oh, and before I forget, if you guys want any specific scenes or anything, please give me a prompt and I'll try my best to include it! I haven't done it before but I think it'll be fun! :D PM me or mention it in the review, your wish entirely! :)
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