Sherlock knew how to torture me. He didn't know that, but he really was very good at it.

"No one will buy it."

"I'm an excellent actor, and you are passable. We know each other well enough that it would work."

"What if people in the Muggle world found out?" Anything to get out of this torturous plot.

"It would be amusing. And anyway, if there's such a separation between the magical world and our world, then no one should have any reason to see us."

"But, Sherlock-"

"There is no reason to protest so much. Unless you have some kind of problem with homosexuality."

"Jesus! Of course not. My sister is a lesbian."

"That doesn't automatically absolve you of all homophobia."

He had me backed into a corner. If I didn't go with him, he'd just sneak into Diagon Alley on his own and get caught. At least I'd be able to keep a tight rein on him if I accompanied him. Anyway, it was the best way to investigate Zariel's death. With all this conflict with Sherlock, I hadn't had a chance to do much. With Sherlock's big brain on the case I might actually get somewhere. I had ways to investigate, but with him helping, I'd get much more accomplished.

"Fine, Sherlock. I'll do it. Just-what is this going to involve?" Better get prepared. Who knows what he'd be throwing my way.

"Not much. Mostly just appearing in public together. You telling people that we're partners when they ask why there's a non-magical person in their space. A bit of public affection."

Thanks, Sherlock. That was sooooooo helpful. "Okay." I sat there awkwardly for a moment before standing up. "I'll, er, I'm going to go take a shower."

"Good. We need to get going as soon as possible." Nope, not even any chance for me to adjust to the idea. "What should I wear?" Ah, yes, the man with that huge wardrobe and a millions disguises.

"Your normal clothes. There are plenty of people who dress in Muggle clothes." Sherlock nodded. He actually seemed a bit disappointed. "I'll just go get dressed then."

Since Sherlock didn't react, I decided there would be plenty of time for a quick shower. He wasn't going to do anything until I left the room. I ran upstairs quickly and grabbed my thing before coming back down to the shower. Sherlock was still in his chair as I passed, but I wasn't concerned. He'd be up before long.

As the water was warming up, I mulled over how this would work. I left the wizard world around twelve years ago, not long after the war. It had been too much. As soon as I'd left St. Mungo's, I put my wand away and almost never went back. Now Sherlock was forcing me back into it full-fledged. With any luck, my old school friends and my few work friends wouldn't notice me. Besides them, there really wasn't anyone I had been close to. The only person I really missed was Lior. Not that I could visit him. Not after the war. Not after what he did.

Stop that, I told myself sternly. No point dwelling on the past. I stripped quickly and got into the shower, thankful for the warmth. As long as I kept it together, everything would be okay. The only thing that was concerning was the whole affection thing. Still, how bad could it be? A bit of hand-holding, maybe a smile or two. After all, that wasn't Sherlock's "area."

I felt much better as I emerged from the loo freshly showered and dressed. Sherlock was sitting at the table with my laptop open. He was, of course, immaculately dressed.

"Ah, good. You're ready." He stood and pulled his coat on, which had been draped across the back of his chair

So much for breakfast. "Yeah." I patted my pockets, checking to see if I had everything. Oh, yeah. My wand. "Can I have my wand back?"

Sherlock picked it up from the table and handed it to me, a sort of longing in his eyes. "Let me just go grab my holster for this." I ran up the stairs before Sherlock could ask me any questions. I pulled the holster from my wardrobe (I had dropped it in there without my wand the night before) and strapped it to my forearm. No need for a gun when you had a wand.

I quickly trotted down the stairs where Sherlock was waiting. "Ready now?" he asked.

"Mhm. Let's go." Sherlock started down the stairs just ahead of me, but by the time I'd gotten down them, he was half-way out the front door. "Sherlock, wait."

"Yes? I thought we were leaving." He was bristling with irritation. Amazing how excited he was for this.

"Yeah, we are, but there's a faster way?"

"Really?" he asked. He was definitely interested. "I'm assuming it uses magic?"

"Uh, yeah. It's not really comfortable, but it's really fast."

"As I've said many times before, John, it's just transport."

I raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything. Instead I turned around and headed into 221C. I heard Sherlock's footsteps behind me, muffled by the slightly dusty carpet. He was starting to concern me. Letting me take the lead with almost no questions? That really wasn't like him.

I opened the door to 221C, which I had charmed so that only Mrs. Hudson or I could open it, and stepped inside. Sherlock gasped as he walked in the room. I guess that was to be expected. The first thing anyone would see walking in the door was my collection of books. Textbooks, books from Auror training, and all the various books I'd picked up out of interest lined the back wall. To be fair, the second wall covered in books was Mrs. Hudson's. She had a more impressive collection than I did.

I turned to look at Sherlock. He was frozen on the spot, mouth gaping open. I'd never seen him like that before, excluding last night when he fell into the wizarding world.

"Are you okay, Sherlock? If it's too much, we can do this another day." His mouth snapped shut. "Or, you know, not at all," I added hopefully.

"I'm fine. Let's get going."

"Hold on. One more thing." I crossed to the bureau next to the door and pulled open the top drawer. Inside, I pulled out the cloth pouch that was tucked into the corner.

"What's that?" Sherlock asked.

"Money. You want to see?" He didn't respond, but the glimmer in his eye was enough of an answer for me. I pulled the strings back and dropped the some of the coins into my hand. I didn't have that much, but I had closed my Gringotts account a few years ago so I didn't have to deal with it.

Sherlock picked up a bronze Knut from my palm. "This is…?"

"A Knut. The silver ones are Sickles and the gold are Galleons."

"Interesting names. One shares its name with a type of ship, one with a piece of hardware, and the last with a farming implement."

"Really? That's interesting."

"No, it's merely evidence of how nomenclature can be bastardized for everything."

"Er, if you say so." Sherlock shook his head in disgust; he always hated it when I didn't keep up with him.

"How much are they worth?"

"One Galleon's worth about five pounds. Seventeen Sickles equals one Galleon, and twenty nine Knuts in one Sickle."

Sherlock snorted.

"What?"

"That's ridiculous. Their numerical basis for their monetary system is irregular making it difficult to calculate the sums necessary to make up one denomination. For example, if one had five hundred Knuts, it would take far too long for the average person to convert the rate to Galleons."

My head was starting to hurt. "I don't know, Sherlock. It's the goblins that are in charge of that sort of thing."

"Goblins?" he asked, perking up immediately. Great.

"Yeah. They're short stumpy looking creatures. Although I'd never say that to a goblin's face. They can be vicious."

"So, there are magical creatures as well?"

"Yeah. Some of them are intelligent, but some of them are evil. I heard the gamekeeper at Hogwarts had some nasty creatures at some point. Blast-Ended something. They were evil from what I heard."

"They sound exciting. Where would we find them?"

"Jesus, Sherlock," I sighed. "One thing at a time, please."

Sherlock pouted, but agreed. "As long as we get to look at them as some point," he added after a moment's thought.

"Are you ready to leave?" I was getting tired of standing around the damp basement flat. Anyway, I wanted to get Sherlock out of there before he saw Mrs. Hudson's potions set-up in the next room.

"Ah, yes. Our magical means of transport. Please lead the way."

I took Sherlock's arm and looped it through mine. "So you're warming up to the idea of us posing as a couple, John?"

"No," I snorted. Anyway, there wasn't any warming up necessary. "Hold on tight." I tightened my own grip on his arm to be sure I didn't lose grip, and then pulled out my wand. Sherlock had just opened his mouth to most likely ask another annoying question when I turned on the spot, and we disappeared with a pop.