Chapter 12
Deus ex Mycroft
Mycroft Holmes was not a man given to fits of rage. No, he was The Iceman, largely thought to be devoid of emotions and feelings and anything that might be taken for a weak spot. When required, he could detach the rest of his brain from his amygdala and take decisions which others would see as heartless.
Of course, they were fools. Mycroft lived in a world of goldfish. Even his own brothers – the cleverest men he knew – seemed slow to him.
Which is why he needed Sherlock out of the way for now. Sherlock's place was by Emrys' side, not Mycroft's – not when Mycroft was about to walk into a trap. Field work was not his natural milieu, but for the protection of his family, Mycroft Holmes was no less than a warrior god.
XXX
Moriarty and Voldemort fought for dominance over the resurrected body of Jim Moriarty.
"I will have my own body back when Sherlock Holmes brings Harry Potter here," Voldemort hissed angrily. "I will no longer need your filthy muggle form!"
"You are an idiot if you think Sherlock will come unprepared," Moriarty told the Dark Lord. "He is as devious as I am. And, if you hate my body so, Snake-face, why don't you leave it to me? Afraid of the competition? Look at me – I'm a heartthrob!"
"Cease your ranting at once!" the Dark Lord ordered.
Jim giggled. "Or what?"
"Wormtail!" Lord Voldemort shouted. "Have you prepared for the ceremony?"
Peter Pettigrew, who had been cowering in a corner, answered with a meek, "Yes, Master."
"Look at you, you've got a rat," Jim said, giggling again. "Even Sherlock's sidekick is better than this snivelling creature."
Lord Voldemort's furious scream fell a nearby tree.
"Enough!" a female voice snapped.
"Hello, Dolly," Jim said. "How nice of you to join us."
"Shut up, muggle," Dolores Umbridge spat. "I have no interest in you."
"You used him to bring me back to life!" Jim sang.
"To get to Harry Potter, who happens to be in the care of Sherlock Holmes," she said.
"Sherlock's mine, mine, mine!" The consulting criminal spun around like a ballet dancer.
Umbridge rolled her eyes. The sooner the Dark Lord regained his powers, the sooner they would be rid of this annoying maniac. Unfortunately, till then, they need him to keep Holmes on his toes.
She threw a vial of blood at Pettigrew. "Just in case. If the plan with Potter fails, we'll need that. It's the blood of a powerful enemy."
"Who?" Pettigrew asked.
"Albus Dumbledore. And yes, it's forcibly taken."
XXX
Sherlock Holmes was shaken awake by Mrs Hudson. She looked worried and drawn.
"Are you all right, dear?" she asked him, wringing her hands. "What happened?"
Sherlock jumped up and ran to the front door. It wouldn't budge. His eyes flashed silver as he tried to open it with magic. It was futile. Mycroft had locked them in.
Sherlock screamed inside his head. MYCROFT! I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS!
A long way from London, Mycroft winced his seat in a helicopter. Tend to Emrys, Sherlock. Please. Keep him alive till I return.
You betrayed me. Sherlock was hurt and confused. You need me, Mycroft. You will not be able to defeat Moriarty and Voldemort alone.
I have no intention of defeating either of them, Sherlock. I just need a cure for Emrys. Further, I need your assistance. Emrys is likely to awaken once the snake venoms have been counteracted. Please attempt to gather the exact location of Isle of the Blessed from him, Sherlock. If Moriarty and Voldemort do not have an appropriate cure, which, unfortunately, I believe to be quite likely, the life-water from the Isle would be our only chance.
Sherlock ran up the stairs.
XXX
Sherlock Holmes strode through the graveyard at Little Hangleton, his Belstaff coat billowing behind him. He stopped at the ornate grave of Tom Riddle senior.
"Hello, sexy," Jim Moriarty greeted him.
"Hello, Jim."
"Where's the boy, Sherlock?" Jim asked.
"Safe. At home."
"I wouldn't have taken you for a fool, Mr Holmes, leaving your ward to die," Dolores Umbridge said, walking over to them.
"You must be Jim's Dolly," Sherlock said, smirking. He turned to Moriarty. "Really, Jim, couldn't you find a better looking or at least a younger one?"
"Shut up, you muggle-lover!" Umbridge cried, aiming her wand at Sherlock and shooting forth a jet of purple light.
Sherlock waved a casual hand and the curse dissipated.
"You're a bigger idiot than I thought if you think I'd let Harry open an unmarked package," Sherlock told her smarmily.
Umbridge shot another curse at him. Sherlock's eyes flashed a brilliant blue and Umbridge was thrown to the ground, unconscious and neatly tied up with thick rope.
Jim levelled a glare at the detective.
"I know you, Sherlock," Jim said shewdly. "You were upset. If the boy didn't open the package, who did?"
"Very good, Jim," Sherlock drawled. He sobered as he confessed softly, "My brother."
Jim Moriarty threw back his head and roared with laughter. When he finally stopped laughing, he wiped the tears of mirth from his face and cooed, "The Iceman is melting…the Iceman is dying…the Ice will be gone and the songs will be on…"
"Whatever you want from Harry, Jim, I will give you. Just let me have the cure for my brother."
"Oh, no, no, no," Jim sang.
"You fool!" Lord Voldemort shouted. "I need Harry Potter's blood! You are useless to me! Avada Kedavra!"
Sherlock waved away the green light. Voldemort staggered. "Impossible," the Dark Lord muttered. "Who are you?"
"A Holmes," Sherlock said curtly. "Go away, Tom Riddle. I need to speak to Jim." His eyes flashed a brilliant blue and the Dark Lord was torn from the body of Jim Moriarty. The spirit fled into the waiting arms of Peter Pettigrew and Apparated with a sharp crack.
"Thanks, Sherlock," Jim sang. "But I'm still not going to help you have the Iceman."
"You will help me save my brother, Mr Moriarty." Sherlock's features melted away into Mycroft's as his eyes flashed.
"NO!" Jim yelled. "Sherlock got bitten by the snakes?!"
Mycroft didn't respond.
"We have counteracted the snake venoms," Mycroft told Jim. "What do we do with the Ravn?"
Jim kicked the nearest gravestone angrily. "There's no cure for the virus! Sherlock wasn't supposed to die! Why did you let him open the box?!"
Mycroft pursed his lips as the madman ranted and raved.
"Enough," he said finally, eyes flashing.
Jim Moriarty fell to the ground, unconscious and trussed up like Umbridge.
XXX
Emrys stirred as Sherlock burst into the flat.
"Where's Mycroft?" Arthur asked.
"Gone," Sherlock said. He turned to John and Severus. "Have you counteracted the venoms?"
The doctor and the potions master nodded. Emrys groaned and opened his eyes.
"Emrys," Sherlock said, kneeling on the carpet. "Listen to me carefully. I need you to tell me the exact location of the Isle of the Blessed."
"No," Emrys said hoarsely.
"Please, Emrys," Sherlock begged.
"I won't let you exchange your life for mine," Emrys whispered, gasping for breath.
"I won't. I promise," Sherlock assured him. "I will stay right here. Just tell me where it is."
Emrys shook his head.
"Forgive me, little brother," Sherlock murmured and delved into Emrys' mind, eyes flashing silver.
Emrys' eyes flashed gold and Sherlock was thrown across the room. The detective had extracted the data he needed, though.
XXX
There is no cure, Sherlock. Mycroft's tired voice sounded in Sherlock's head as he picked himself up from the floor and ducked into the kitchen to get away from Emrys' accusing glare.
I have the location, Sherlock replied. There must be another way, Mycroft. From what Emrys said, it seems the price of a life is a life. He will never forgive you or me if you died for him. He is furious.
I would never forgive myself if I didn't do everything in my power, Sherlock.
Come back, Mycroft. Let me go instead.
No.
Sherlock slumped as Mycroft's mental shields pushed him out. He made his way to the living room. Everyone glared at him.
"What are you up to?" John asked angrily.
Sherlock fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
XXX
It was rather convenient that the perks of being the British Government included instant use of a helicopter, Mycroft thought gratefully. He glanced at his prisoners; both were out cold.
Mycroft sighed as he landed at the Isle. He didn't particularly wish to die, but if there was no other way to save his brothers, he would give his life without hesitation.
He found a beautiful witch waiting for him.
"Mycroft Holmes," he said, holding out his hand.
The woman grasped his palm with surprising strength. "A worthy brother of Emrys, indeed," she said.
"May I enquire who I have the pleasure of addressing?"
"I believe my half-brother is a friend of yours," she said. "I'm Morgana Pendragon."
"Charmed," Mycroft said.
Morgana laughed. "Oh, but you are deliciously duplicitous, Mycroft Holmes. Has Emrys not spun tales of my evil deeds?"
"Emrys grew up," Mycroft said quietly. "He is not the naïve, fearful little idiot he was when you knew him. And, even though he ended your mortal life, I believe he was quite fond of you."
Morgana looked thoughtful. "He did, didn't he?" She blinked. "And how's Arthur faring?"
"He is well."
"So why are you here, Mycroft Holmes?"
"I am sure you are aware of my purpose, Lady Morgana."
Her face turned serious. "Tell me, Mycroft Holmes, why should I help you save the life of the sorcerer who ended mine?"
"Because you know as well as I do, Lady Morgana, that Emrys never really was your enemy."
"Clever," Morgana murmured. "So what do you offer me in exchange for your little brother?"
"I have three lives to offer you – my own, Jim Moriarty and Dolores Umbridge. Take what you will."
Morgana frowned at him. "Strange. You do not seem very afraid to die."
"Logic dictates that if my death serves a greater purpose than my life, I should die. There is no reason for me to be afraid."
Morgana smiled. "I like you, Mycroft Holmes," she said. "Pity. We could have been friends."
"We could be," Mycroft agreed.
Morgana's eyes flashed gold, just like Emrys. Rain poured from the skies. She filled the cup of life with rain water and the rain stopped as soon as the cup was full.
"Jim Moriarty is hardly more than a wraith," she said. "His life is useless."
Mycroft nodded. "I thought as much."
"This woman, however, is rather vile. I will accept, on behalf of magic, her life for Emrys." Morgana smiled at the British Government. "On one condition, Mycroft Holmes."
Mycroft arched an eyebrow.
"When I ask you to, you shall take me to London with you."
"How many times?"
Morgana started. "Just the once," she said.
Mycroft smirked. "Certainly, Lady Morgana. I'd be delighted. I do hope, though, that after your visit, you would like London enough to visit again. And I may, perhaps you would enjoy a visit to Scotland as well?"
Morgana stared at him. "Perhaps," she said finally.
She filled a vial with the life-water and threw it at him. "Godspeed, Mycroft Holmes. I shall see you soon."
XXX
Mycroft dropped off Moriarty with MI6 before heading to Baker Street. As soon as he entered 221B, however, a teary-eyed Sherlock punched him.
"You arrogant bastard!" the detective yelled.
Mycroft pulled out a pristine handkerchief from his pocket and applied it to his bleeding nose. "Now, Sherlock, you know perfectly well Mummy and Daddy were married for several years before I was conceived."
Sherlock raised his arm again, but John caught him.
"Not now, Sherlock," the doctor said.
"Whose life did you bargain away, Mycroft?" Emrys asked feebly. He looked as if he was hanging on by a thread.
"An enemy's – the perpetrator of this mischief. Dolores Umbridge, former Under-Secretary to the Minister for Magic. She instigated Lord Voldemort to use necromancy to resurrect James Moriarty, promising him assistance with a rebirth ritual."
"And why would Morgana take this woman's life in exchange for mine?" Emrys demanded.
Arthur sucked in a sharp breath.
"A living Mycroft Holmes is more useful to her than a dead one," Mycroft said simply. "I will bring her to London at a time of her choosing."
Emrys stared at him. "Show me," he demanded.
"After you have drunk the water, Emrys," Mycroft said.
Emrys shook his head. Mycroft sighed.
"What is done is done, Emrys," Arthur said quietly. "You may as well take the water."
John and Arthur helped Emrys sit up and Sherlock gently tipped the vial, letting him drink. There was a blinding flash of light and Emrys was left healed in its wake.
Mycroft smiled, but his smile faded as Emrys and Sherlock glared at him. Emrys glared at Sherlock as well.
Severus Snape cleared his throat. "Lord Holmes, if you could remove the barrier, I'd like to return now."
"Apologies, Professor," Mycroft said smoothly. His eyes flashed. "You are free to leave." Severus Disapparated.
"Perhaps Sirius and I could take the children to Grimmauld Place for the day? We will be back in the evening for dinner and gifts." Remus suggested mildly.
"We have scanned the gifts," Sirius added quickly. "The rest are all marked and safe."
Sherlock's face fell, but he nodded. Harry cast a worried look at the detective.
Sirius and Remus left with Harry, Hermione and Ron.
"Get me out of here," Emrys told Arthur. "I don't care where, just away from them."
Sherlock suddenly looked lost and vulnerable for a moment before turning to glare at Mycroft. Mycroft remained impassive.
"That's no way to speak of your brothers, Emrys Holmes," Mrs Holmes chided from the doorway. "They were only looking after their baby brother."
Emrys flushed, but didn't reply. Mycroft and John shared a meaningful look and John understood the unspoken danger night.
"The townhouse is at your disposal, Mummy, and yours, too, Arthur," Mycroft said quickly in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "I must travel urgently, but Emrys and Sherlock both have keys and a car is waiting downstairs." He kissed his mother's cheek and hurried out.
Mrs Holmes stepped forward and hugged Emrys. "Let's go, then, shall we?"
Arthur and Mr Holmes helped Emrys up. Mrs Holmes patted Sherlock's cheek reassuringly.
Emrys, Arthur, Mr and Mrs Holmes left. Sherlock watched from the window as the black car drove away.
"Damn Mycroft," Sherlock muttered.
"He saved Emrys," John pointed out. "With your help," he added quickly.
"Emrys hates me now," Sherlock said in a small voice. "I looked into his head forcibly."
"Yes, but you did it to save his life," John said softly. "He'll come around, Sherlock, don't worry. You're angry with Mycroft – I can understand, but he too did what he did only to protect both of you."
"This is why caring is not an advantage, John."
"Come on, Sherlock. Let's get some rest, yeah? I've texted Greg and Molly."
Sherlock allowed John to tug him away.
