Chapter 6
The Wrath of Holmes
[Author's Note: Airport again! Meanwhile, thank you everyone! Title shamelessly stolen from…well, everyone knows where, eh?]
Mycroft Holmes excused himself from his meeting with the Arabian Minister at a signal from Anthea.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Dr Watson wants to speak to you urgently, Sir. It's about your brother and his ward."
Mycroft was instantly alert. "Let him in."
John hurried in as soon as the door opened and Anthea withdrew hastily.
"The Hogwarts Express was attacked by Dementors. They got to Harry," John said in a low voice. "Sirius and Remus got to him before they could do too much damage, but Harry passed out, and it took them nearly an hour to revive him. Sherlock has gone off to Hogwarts, and Emrys has gone off God-knows-where to recall the Dementors."
Mycroft was white with anger. Then he smiled dangerously. John took a step back. An angry Mycroft was a lot scarier than an angry Sherlock…or even an angry Emrys. Mycroft's formidable intelligence, once antagonised, obliterated his enemies. Emrys might be the most powerful sorcerer and Sherlock might be the best-known hero, but when someone hurt his family, Mycroft was the most dangerous Holmes.
"I'd like to help if I can," John offered.
"Thank you, Dr Watson. Your assistance would be invaluable.
John smiled to himself as he climbed into Mycroft's fireplace. The wizarding world would soon know that Harry Potter was not to be messed with.
XXX
Sherlock Holmes strode through the winding corridors of Hogwarts and burst into the Hospital Wing. His ward sat on a chair, staring at the floor listlessly. A bar of chocolate was loosely held in his hand. Sirius and Remus sat next to him, looking worried.
"Aren't teachers supposed to be at the Great Hall?" Sherlock asked them.
Startled, Harry looked up at his new guardian. "Sherlock?" he asked confusedly. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking up on you, of course," Sherlock replied. He arched an eyebrow at the Marauders, who nodded, hugged Harry and left.
Sherlock scanned Harry quickly and urged him to finish the chocolate. Harry did so meekly, and looked marginally better when Sherlock cleaned his sticky fingers with a snap.
"If I can't even stop one Dementor, how will I ever defeat Voldemort?" Harry said in a small voice, as if holding back tears. "I heard my parents, and even now, I keep wanting to hear them." He looked up at the detective beseechingly. "What do I do?"
"You are not weak, Harry," Sherlock said sharply. "Don't underestimate yourself."
"That's what Remus said, too. He explained what a Dementor is," Harry told him. "To think Sirius had to live with that for twelve years…!" The boy sniffed and Sherlock awkwardly patted his back.
"But Sirius is here now, for you, Harry," Sherlock said gently. "We all are."
Harry gave him a watery smile. "I'm all right, Sherlock. Don't worry. I don't want to interrupt your cases or your experiments."
"You take priority," Sherlock said sharply. "Never forget that." He smiled – the one John called his psycho-smile. He extended his hand. "Come along, Harry."
XXX
Emrys stood on Azkaban island, his body glowing with an eerie greenish-white light and his eyes flashing gold.
The Dementors, even the ones Fudge had sent to the Hogwarts Express and Hogwarts, cowered before his rage. A few had tried to get close to him, but they had been incinerated with a single strike of Emrys' staff. Immediately, the remaining Dementors had realised Emrys could destroy them in the blink of an eye.
"You do not touch my nephew, Harry Potter, do you understand?" Emrys boomed. "You are not to come within one hundred feet of the boy."
If the Dementors could nod, they would have.
"You will stay in Azkaban and guard the prisoners. If I ever see you harming – or attempting to harm an innocent magical person, I will wipe out your entire race," Emrys ordered.
The Dementors meekly returned to their posts.
Emrys smiled. His job was done.
XXX
Cornelius Fudge was sweating profusely. Mycroft Holmes stood before him, regarding him as if he were a particularly annoying insect. John resisted the urge to grin and leaned against the wall, content to watch a Holmes perform.
"Need I repeat myself, Cornelius?" Mycroft asked silkily.
"Look here, Mycroft – you may be Lord Holmes, but you can't just walk into my office and demand my resignation!" the red-faced Minister for Magic burst out.
"Idiocy has only limited uses, my dear Cornelius, and I am afraid yours has run out."
"Are you threatening me?" Fudge turned redder.
"I do not indulge in such juvenile behaviour," Mycroft said calmly.
"And if I refuse to resign?" Fudge asked.
Mycroft's eyes flashed a brilliant blue and he smiled. "Do you really want me to answer that question, Cornelius?"
Fudge stepped back, trembling with fear and fury. "I just wanted to catch Pettigrew!" he cried.
Mycroft pursed his lips. "Tell me, Cornelius, how does terrorising the students of Britain's only magical school assist in that agenda?"
"He could have gone back to the Weasley boy! He lived with the boy for years!"
Mycroft smiled tightly. "Yes, it makes perfect sense, Minister. A fugitive would run back to the one place where the two wizards who know both his forms would be in charge."
"It made sense when Dolores explained," Fudge mumbled.
Mycroft pricked his ears. "This would be Dolores Umbridge, yes?"
Fudge sighed and nodded. "I was only trying to help," he pleaded.
Mycroft's eyes flashed blue again.
Fudge's shoulders slumped. He could not afford to go against Mycroft Holmes. He wrote out his resignation letter and signed it.
Mycroft smiled. His job was done.
XXX
Sherlock took Harry's hand as they stood before the doors of the Great Hall. He grinned at the boy.
"Ready, Harry?"
Harry, who looked much better now, smiled up at his guardian.
Sherlock's eyes flashed silver and the doors opened. All eyes in the Great Hall turned to them and silence fell.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Sherlock called, his baritone almost a purr. "I would not have expected you to condone placing your students in mortal peril."
"Hardly mortal peril, Mr Holmes," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Unfortunately, the Minister believes that Pettigrew might approach the school and hopes to apprehend him. Nonetheless, I made it clear to Cornelius that the Dementors should not harm any of my students. I shall speak to him about the Hogwarts Express incident. Meanwhile, as I just warned the students, it would be best to stay out of the way of the Dementors here at Hogwarts." He glanced at Harry and his eyes twinkled. "How are you feeling, my boy?"
"A bit peaky, Professor," Harry declared.
"Naturally," Sherlock said, drawing Harry close. "It is not easy for a child to be well when he has to watch Voldemort murdering his parents again."
There was a collective gasp from students and teachers alike. Harry flushed, but Sherlock squeezed his shoulders reassuringly.
"Surely it cannot be that the great Albus Dumbledore did not anticipate Harry's reaction to a Dementor," Sherlock continued smoothly. "In which case, it seems to me that you have been grossly negligent in your duties towards my ward."
Dumbledore's face hardened. "I am not pleased with the Dementors' conduct, either, Mr Holmes. Unfortunately, a Headmaster cannot overrule the direct orders of the Minister for Magic, and the Dementors are notoriously difficult to control."
"So you permit these uncontrolled, vicious creatures to attack your students just because the Minister said so? Why were the parents and guardians of the students not warned of this? Even if the school could not, at least we would have taken measures to protect our children."
"What measures?" Fred – or George – Weasley asked loudly.
Sherlock's eyes flashed silver again and a swarm of Patronus bees swirled around Harry. "The Patronus Charm repels Dementors," Sherlock announced. "Some of you might already know of this – and those who do not might want to consult your new Defence against the Dark Arts professors; both of them are proficient in this charm and saved Harry today. The incantation is expecto patronum and it is powered by a happy memory. The happier the memory, the more powerful the patronus."
"Mr Holmes, the Patronus Charm is a difficult spell, and an off-site, corporeal patronus is nearly impossible to sustain over a long period of time," Professor Flitwick spoke up.
"You're right, of course, Filius," Remus said mildly. "But if the parents, or even Sirius and I, had been informed in advance, we could have patrolled the train and handed out chocolates as a preventive measure."
Dumbledore held up a hand. "I apologise, Mr Holmes, for the inconvenience and I appreciate your concern for young Harry. Rest assured, we will ensure all our students have a plentiful supply of chocolate at all times, and the teachers will take turns forming a Patronus perimeter around the castle as long as the Dementors are here."
"Excellent," Sherlock said. "Thank you, Headmaster. I hope you would not mind if I left a residual patronus with my child?" The glowing bees swirled happily around Harry.
"How will you maintain it from London?" Professor Flitwick asked.
"My brother is more than capable of such a feat, Professor," came Emrys' voice, followed by the man himself. He was accompanied by two Dementors. In an instant, all teachers had drawn their wands.
"Oh, do put down your wands," Sherlock snapped. "Isn't it evident that Emrys has them under control?"
"Indeed," Emrys said. "You will be glad to hear, Headmaster, that the Dementors will not hover close to your students. They are all back at Azakaban. These two are just here to confirm the same." The Dementors bobbed, as if in acquiescence.
"But the Ministry…" Dumbledore began. He was interrupted by the appearance of Mycroft, with John at his heels.
"The Ministry order has been rescinded, Albus," Mycroft informed him. "The Ministry will not send any Dementors out of Azkaban without Wizengamot approval in the future, and, as Emrys said, the Dementors themselves will not venture near innocents."
Dumbledore smiled, but his eyes missed their twinkle. "Glad tidings indeed, Mycroft, my friend. I am glad Cornelius had agreed to withdraw the Dementors."
Mycroft smirked. "Cornelius has resigned, and Kingsley will be the interim minister until the elections. Sherlock and John are taking over the Pettigrew case, with assistance from the Auror Department and Scotland Yard."
Whispers broke out immediately. Emrys and Mycroft came up to stand on either side of Sherlock. John drew Harry aside.
"Magnificent, aren't they?" John whispered in Harry's ear.
Harry stared at the three Holmes brothers standing tall and proud, eyes flashing with powerful magic. They could be easily mistaken for gods. And they were here for him. A strange mix of emotions bubbled up inside him.
Dumbledore raised his hands. Silence fell.
"Thank you for the news, Mycroft. I am sure our owls will be flying out right away! Please do join us for dinner, and perhaps a coffee later in my chambers?"
"Thank you, Albus," Mycroft said. "We would be delighted."
Emrys sent away the Dementors. Harry and John made their way to the Gryffindor table, Sherlock's bees buzzing happily around them. The Holmes brothers exchanged a quick look and followed the Gryffindors.
Harry introduced the adults to his friends, and as predicted, Hermione jumped at the chance to speak to Sherlock. Sherlock watched Harry laugh and eat with his friends, his misery forgotten.
Sherlock smiled. His job was done.
