A/N: Hello all! This is my first adventure into a crossover story. I REALLY hope you like it. I would love your opinions, reviews, thoughts, what you like, what you didn't.
-Summary: 13 years of pain, suffering, & a wish for death is suddenly taken away when a man with slate/blue eyes gently grabs my wrist and just gives me a smirk.
-Story revolves mostly in normal London, with some mentions of the WW, maybe an 'adventure' to it later on. fem!harry, nonromantic john/sherlock, differentish Mycroft (to a point) and Greg just being Greg.
Ok this one covers the after effect of leaving then (drum roll) London.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but original characters. Duh. That is all I will say.
It's still dark when I arrive in the park, my feet slipping on the ice beneath me on the sidewalk, causing me to fall onto the hard grass. I land awkwardly, the hard ground rocking my still bruised form.
'I can't go back now, Vernon will flip. No, I'll have some chance with just Aunt Petunia.' I let this thought pass while I stand again, eyes scanning the park.
I finally find my target; the gardener's shed. It might not be warm, but it will at least give me a place from the elements. I almost regret leaving Malfoy Manor, but I know the longer I would have lingered, the greater the chance I would be dragged back to Hogwarts, only under heavy guard and charms. The door sprang open at my touch, allowing me the chance to quickly move in and close it. As I thought, it wasn't much better in here, but at least the ground wasn't wet. I slide down and curl into myself, letting the thought of the last two hours come back. So much had changed in such a short time, but, for the better. I let my wand slid out of my sleeve, the wood warm underneath my fingers as I grip it.
'If I want to truly leave, I know what I need to do.' I remember reading an odd book one night, after a particular horrid nightmare. I had found myself wondering the halls under my invisibility cloak until I reached the silent and darkened library. I wandered aimlessly, no title in mind when my fingers came across I legal tome for those trying to break free of all kinds of situations, mine being one of them. The easiest way of removing one's self from the wizarding world without losing my memories or being expelled, was this.
I quickly place my wand in both hand before pushing down, cracking the Holly wood in half, violent red sparks arcing out of the rod before they died, it being reduced to being a simple stick. Dropping the fractured pieces, I watch them as they roll away into separate areas of the shed. No more tracking me that way; besides, my magic reacts to my needs when I need it to, but I am no invalid like most of the wizarding world. I don't need magic to live my everyday life; no I can get by, thank you very much. I remember the satchel that Madam Pomfrey had given me, hoping she had packed a dreamless sleep potion. Quickly finding the dull pink vial, I down the contents & lean back against the door, my jacket wrapped tight around me before I drift off into a cold night's rest.
When I wake up, I can see the sun peeking in through the small window of the shed. Looking at my watch, I find it is half past nine in the morning. Uncle Vernon will be off by now and even better, Dudley will be at school. Aunt Petunia should be up with her morning tea, watching the telly while reading the local gossip column. Stiffly, I stand and dust off my clothes, seeing that nothing is out of place. Carefully I ease the door open, seeing no one in the park, blissfully. I close the shed and begin the five minute walk to the house, hood drawn up around my face; it is still January and is still very cold, though not as bad as Scotland.
Walking down Private Drive with no one watching you was rare, but this was luckily one of those times. Making it to number 4, I am happy see that yes, Vernon is off to work and I can see Dudley's footprints walking off from the front step. Walking quickly up to the front step, I hesitate before opening the door; it blissfully unlocked. Warm air blasts my face, but is welcome as I close the door behind me and pull my hood down. I can hear the telly in the living room on, but I also hear my aunt in the kitchen with the kettle.
"Vernon, is that you? What did you forget?" Petunia's voice calls out.
I find myself frozen, not knowing what to do, but I know I need to say something.
"No." My voice is soft but it carries to the kitchen, where I hear the kettle drop and my aunt's footsteps head towards me.
"What are you doing he-" She stops in the doorway, eyes wide as she takes me in.
I know I still have massive bruising around my face and neck, but I did not think she would care about that. I know I have lost some weight in the past four days, having no appetite, but it can't have shown already right? I mean, I can't put weight on no matter what I do, so why would it show?
"What happened to you?" Her soft voice startles me, seeing what looked like concern in her eyes.
"I…" I try to respond, but fail to find the courage. Draco had told the twins and Neville for me, and Madam Pomfrey and the professors knew, but I had not said the words out loud or even internally.
"Why are you here?"
"I'm done with them, Aunt Petunia. I've left the world. I snapped my wand."
She drew in a breath, bringing my eyes to hers.
"Lily once told me that to do that is like signing a death warrant. You can't go back to that school of yours."
"That was the point; I don't want to go back."
"You are 12, what do you think you are going to do? Go back to primary school here, oh no. I do not think so."
I actually freeze at this. I hadn't thought that part out, but what was I going to do? I can't sit at home all day; we might actually kill one another. I would still do chores, but what else? I can't do yard work; it's the dead of winter.
"I'll figure it out Aunt Petunia. May I go to my room now? I'm very tired."
"Not until you tell me why are all black and blue."
I watch her carefully before I walk into the living room and drew the curtain close, stripping my jacket off. As I pull another article of clothing off, bruises are revealed to the light until I am standing there in my small clothes, my aunt is actually crying before telling me to dress again.
"Go lie down; I'm going to make a cup a tea."
I quietly make my way up to the second bedroom, opening the door to find the room dusty, but a surprise outside my window.
"Hedwig!" I cry out before rushing to the window, free of bars now, before letting in my first friend.
She gave a soft hoot before nibbling my fingers, not leaving my arm as I back away from the now closed window. I try to be happy before sadness overtakes me; I know what has to happen.
"I'm sorry girl, but you can't stay. Everyone knows you and it won't be safe for you to be here. Go to…go to Draco, ok? Let him know I am ok. He'll be good to you sweetheart."
If birds could glare, she would have but eventually she gave another gently nip before allowing me to reopen the window & fly out into the cold air. After again closing the window, I watch her until she disappears, leaning against the wall. She'll be safer away from me and this house & she's too noticeable; who ignores a snowy white owl with a pre-teen? I turn when the door opens and Petunia walks in, a tray with two cups of steaming tea balanced on her hand. She sees me standing by the window and frowns.
"Thought I told you to lie down." She says, looking at me while moving to the desk, setting down the tray before turning to me with one of the cups.
I look up at her, confused. But I gingerly take the cuppa, letting the warmth sink into my fingers. I move and sit on the bed, legs tucked underneath me while she carefully sits on the chair. I watch the steam rise and move from the tea, unsure as to when it would be taken from me, but my aunt dismisses my thoughts.
"Drink it before it gets cold, please. You will not waste my good earl gray."
Nodding, I sip the warm liquid, a small moan leaving me as the warmth travels through me.
"Now, I will talk to Vernon when he arrives home. You will stay up here until I say otherwise; no noises, just be silent and…and please rest."
"Yes Aunt Petunia." I reply, drinking the last of the tea.
She rose, took my cup, the tray and left the room, leaving me on the bed, still in my jacket. After a few minutes, I stood and pulled my trunk from my pocket and placed it on the floor. Kneeling down, I place two fingers on the lid and whisper
"Agrandir, ouvrir."
The trunk grew quickly and popped open, allowing me to pull the soft fleece throw from its depths and pajamas out. Stripping out of the jacket and transfigured clothing, I pull the pajamas on and wrap the throw around myself before closing the trunk and whispering
"Rétrécir, proche." With the trunk small again, I hide it in the nightstand before lying down on the bed, curling into a small ball, letting sleep take me again.
I wake up to voices talking loudly downstairs before heavy footsteps bolt me up.
"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia's voice is strained and yelled up after him.
But he doesn't stop, causing me to scramble up, grabbing my glasses and shoving them painfully onto my nose just as my door bursts open. My uncle is just as large as when I last saw him in September; just as puce and just as terrifying.
"So, you think you can just come back, like you belong here?"
He advances and grabs my arm, ignoring my screech or the massive lurch I try to take away from him. He pulls me until I'm within inches of his face. His beady brown eyes are looking over my bruises and he seems to approve of the damage.
"Good, someone finally taught you a lesson. You will not be saying. I will be taking you to London, where I will throw you to the nearest detention center that will take you; no questions asked. Now, get up and fix dinner."
He drops me and leaves the room, ignoring my sobs of pain and fright. My eyes close as I try to even out my heartbeat and stop the shakes. When he yells up the stairs, I jump off the bed and race down the steps and into to the kitchen. I don't pay attention to what I'm making nor when I'm serving it. I wash all the pans before I escape back to my room, closing the door and sliding down until I meet the floor.
'I shouldn't have come back.'
I wrap my arms around my knees, ignoring the pulsing pain from the arm Vernon grabbed. It was like I never left last year; nothing has changed about my role in my uncle's eyes. One jail cell to another, just great. I finally stand after an hour on the floor to the bed, sitting on the edge. I look down at the pajamas I'm still wearing before deciding to be ready to run; I enlarge the trunk and find the cleanest pair of trouser and the warmest long sleeve I can find before pulling my trainers on again, lacing up the years-old items. I debate on sleeping in my jacket; I know if Vernon sees the expensive item, he would destroy it, so I shove into my trunk again. Shrinking the trunk, I place it my pocket before lying down under the throw, letting my eyes droop close, watching the moon light shadows dance before sleep takes me.
Vernon's heavy footsteps wake me before he could; allowing me time to sit up and compose myself before he unlocks the door, 'when did he lock them yesterday?', and swings it open. He only glares at me before motioning for me to stand up and follow. Glancing down at the throw, I sadly drop it and follow him out of number 4 Private Drive into his vehicle. I sit as close as I can to the door the whole trip, always an eye on him, trying to form a plan in my mind. The two hour drive to London is in silence, made only worse by Vernon grunting every time he looks at me; that is never a good thing. I was never good with car rides, they always made me dizzy and tired, but I force my mind to concentrate the whole trip. I'm acutely aware of my uncle's every move, every shift, and every change in his breathing.
We arrive in light London traffic, a fog in the mid-morning streets. We drive for another five minutes before Vernon parks and pulls me out of his side of the car. I try to hold back the cry as he grips his favorite arm apparently, but I can't, drawing attention to myself & Vernon. I don't see a group of men watch us and neither does my uncle, who starts to berate me in a low voice, neck turning red.
"You do anything, I will kill you." He hisses.
I somehow pull my arm out of his grip and back up, shaking. My eyes are darting around, trying to find the best route to run while Vernon was advancing again. I felt a presence behind me, but instead of fear, a great sense of calm over takes me when my back meets another form and Vernon freezes in place. I tilted my head back to see a tall man with short, curly black hair behind me, a shorter man with sandy blond hair next to him, another man with very short brown hair leaning on an umbrella next to him and finally, the last man with salt and pepper hair standing behind the first. The aura around these men is fascinating and despite everything that had happened in the past five days, I felt…safe? I wasn't sure, but the man behind me was glaring very harshly at my uncle, making him a…good guy?
He suddenly looks down and slate/blue eyes stare into mine, as if he was looking at my soul. He frowns and returns his glare to my uncle.
"What sort of man abuses a young girl?" His voice was a soft, low tone, but it seems to cut into Vernon.
The salt & pepper man moved forwards quickly and kneels in front of me while the others continue on.
"A right bloody coward, that's who." The blonde responded, his fingers gripped in a tight fist.
The other man is quiet but his own fingers are twitching on his umbrella handle. But my focus is on the man kneeling in my face.
"Hello sweetheart, my name is detective inspector Greg Lestrade; I am from Scotland Yard. Now, all you need to do is tell me you don't want to be near that man and I will make it happen. Is he abusing you?" DI Lestrade's voice is soft, his brown eyes watching me carefully.
"I…" My voice cracks, the last two days coming back to me in force. "Yes." I whisper this, eyes instantly shooting up to my uncle, whose face was bright red and suddenly inches from mine.
He wraps his meaty hands on my wrists and pulls me forward, spitting in my face, but before he can yell, two hands crack down on his wrists, forcing him to release mine, causing me to fall back, into arms cradling me.
"No, no let go!" I cry out, panic welling up again.
"Shhhh, it's alright."
That man's voice again. He talks very low as he kneels down, allowing my feet to touch the ground but not move from his arms. He is also whispering to the blonde man because the salt & pepper man had subdued Vernon while calling for back up, the umbrella man on what looked like a mobile a few feet away.
"What's your name, little one?" It was the blonde this time, his blue eyes watching me.
I look back and forth between the pair. "Stella." My voice was low, shaking violently.
"Pleasure to meet you, my name is John and this is Sherlock. Stella, I know you're scared, but you're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore, ok?" The man, John, whispered.
Before I could reply, my eyes rolled up and I blacked out, my last moment wrapped in warm arms.
A/N: oh my, so much love. So here is the deal, I was not expecting this past bit to take this many chapters, but my fingers are flying and all the emails I get concerning this story makes me write more. So thanks to all who have favorited and follow this and those who have reviewed. I love all of you.