Chapter 1
1 year, 9 Months Later
It was the first plead that woke her up. She shifted slightly, her grip on Teddy tightening.
"Please, I'll do anything. I just need another extension," the voice pleaded.
"You've already had two," a woman's voice said coldly. Harry opened her eyes, shifting silently. The dumpster she was in was cracked slightly at the top to keep them from suffocating, and the gap was just enough for her to see what was happening outside.
A woman as staring down a sniveling man. The man reminded her of Pettigrew, she realized disdainfully.
"I can get you the information you need, lead him into your trap. Just give me a bit more time," the man begged. Teddy stirred slightly in her arms. Harry rocked him gently, eyes glued to the scene in front of her.
"Too late. He'll know what you're doing if you so much as glance at him. You're done," she said. She moved closer and the man let out a gasp before collapsing on the ground, a pile of red quickly spreading from out from under him. The woman spun and strode out of the alley as the man's ragged breathes ceased.
Harry needed to get out that area, but she had to wait. She had to wait until there was no chance the woman would come back, but before anyone noticed the body. She slid her backpack on and shifted Teddy in her arms, waiting a moment before starting to lift the lid.
"Sherlock, there he is!" a voice shouted. Harry dropped the lid, moving back quickly. Her blood ran cold. She settled back farther in the dumpster, so she could still see out but so she was hopefully more obscure. Teddy's eyes opened and he blinked at her. Harry put a finger to her lips, signaling to Teddy that they had to be silent.
Two men appeared in the alley, a short man with blond hair who immediately checked the dead man for a pulse, and a tall dark haired man who was sending a text on his cell phone.
"He's dead. We just saw him five minutes ago," the blond said, puzzled.
"He ducked out to meet his contact. The contact knew he'd failed him, so he killed him. Lestrade's a block away," the dark haired man said.
Moments later, another slightly older man ducked into the alley, a policeman and policewoman following him. Teddy blinked up at her, opening his mouth. Harry covered his mouth desperately. They were in the wrong place. If the police officers spotted them, they'd be brought in. As a witness, she was sure. And she'd have to give her name. And then they could find her. She'd kept herself and Teddy safe for a year and nine months already. She couldn't afford for them to be found now.
The men were conversing, the blond telling the other man what they knew. The dark haired man just stared at the alley critically, eyes roaming the place.
"Something here doesn't quite fit," the man said, cutting the others off. Harry all but held her breath as the man took in the alley.
"It looks like a normal alley to me," the blond said.
And then Teddy sneezed.
Harry's heart stopped at the sound. She wrapped her arms firmly around Teddy, begging, pleading that they hadn't heard it.
And then the lid opened.
"Christ," the new man said, staring down at her and Teddy.
"Harry?" the blond asked, staring at her.
And Harry's heart sped up in fear. She had to get out of there. They had to get out of there. He knew who she was. She was up and trying to leap out of the side of the dumpster when the dark haired man ripped Teddy from her arms. Harry froze in her tracks, eyes glued to the man.
"Who is she?" the new man asked.
"Sorry. She looked like my sister," the blond said after he stopped staring at her. Harry released a small breath, eyes never leaving Teddy.
"Give her back the kid," the policewoman demanded.
"And have her run? She won't leave without the child. We need her statement and we won't get it if she runs," the dark haired man said, staring disdainfully at the child in his arms. Teddy seemed alarmed as well. He was staring at Harry with a look similar to her own – one filled with fear. All Teddy knew was Harry's arms. No one else ever held him, ever touched him. Not since he was really little, when his parents had held him before they died.
"How long were you in the dumpster? Did you see what happened?" the policeman asked.
"Of course she did. She more than likely spent the night there. She is the witness you need," the dark haired man said. Harry never took her eyes off of Teddy.
"Give her back her kid," the blond demanded of the dark haired man.
And Teddy began wailing.
The dark haired man cursed and all but threw the child at Harry. Harry curled herself around Teddy, rocking him gently as she whispered soft words to him. He relaxed at her voice, clinging to her just as tightly as she was clinging to him. Harry was grateful the charmed bracelet Severus had made for him was still on his wrist, keeping his hair or eyes from shifting colors on them.
"You obviously heard my deduction. All you have to do is say I was right and you can go," the dark haired man said.
"It was a woman," Harry whispered.
"A woman?" the dark haired man asked sharply. Harry nodded, still rocking Teddy.
"What's your name?" the man, who Harry realized was in charge of the police, asked her.
"Her name doesn't matter. She told us what we need to know," the dark haired man waved it off.
"We need her name so we can take down a witness statement," the man argued.
"No." The words bubbled out of her mouth before she realized it.
"No?" the man asked.
"No. I won't make a statement," Harry repeated, voice still quiet.
"You basically just did though," the blond pointed out.
"But she didn't have to say her name. That's what it's about. You're hiding from someone. Someone who must have a lot of influence if you're frightened to tell anyone your name and hiding in dumpsters to keep unseen," the dark haired man said rapidly. Harry kept her mouth closed. If he could tell that much from her one sentence, what could he gleam from another?
What if he was could do legilimency?
Harry's eyes dropped instantly, slamming her shields up as firmly as she could. She felt an odd feeling, as if he was trying to prod at her shields and almost succeed.
"Lestrade, you have her statement. She witnessed a woman killing the victim, the same woman who hired the man to follow me," the man said suddenly.
"I don't have a name," the man who'd been referred to as Lestrade pointed out.
"Of course you do. You heard John refer to her by name earlier. Harry. Harriet Watson. His sister," the dark haired man said. Harry forgot herself – her eyes shot up quickly.
"But John said she wasn't his sister," the policewoman pointed out.
"He never said that. He said she looked like his sister. And I'm saying she is. If she looks enough like Harry Watson that her own brother would think it were her, so would anyone else. You have your statement and she has her identity," the dark haired man concluded. Lestrade sighed.
"Fine," he said.
"We'll be going now," the dark haired man said, pushing the blond – John? – out of the way.
And firmly grasping Harry's arm.
"Let me go," Harry hissed as the dark haired man dragged her out of the alley.
"Not yet. I have some questions for you, and I'd rather you sterilize yourself before I continue," the man said disdainfully.
"Sherlock! You can't say that to someone!" John said, appalled, as he all but jogged to keep up with them.
"To be frank, she smells appalling. If I'm to handle the conversation, I'd rather not be disgusted," the man John'd identified as Sherlock said with a sniff and a scowl.
Harry was calculating. It'd make a bigger scene for her to break away and try running, and from the physique of Sherlock and the intelligence he'd shown already, she had no doubt he'd track her down before she could get far.
"Hungry," Teddy said as they climbed into a cab.
"Soon," Harry responded. Teddy's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her, as if trying to figure out what the correct response was.
"Hungry," Teddy finally repeated. Her backpack was firmly placed on her back – and given all the charms on it there was no way she could dig through it for any semblance of food.
"Yes," Harry said. Teddy watched her for a moment before fidgeting in her arms. Harry missed the days he could be breast-fed. It was much easier to take care of him when she was feeding him breastmilk.
She had to appear boring. That was the only way they'd leave her alone. Sherlock seemed to find her intriguing, and the character she got from him was that he would act this way unless she bored him.
"Why did you think she was your sister?" Sherlock finally spoke up.
"Harry has the same color of hair, same texture to her hair. Comes from our father and his side of the family. Same facial structure as well. The eyes are the only difference. Hers are hazel, not green," John explained.
"Father? You've never mentioned a father," Sherlock said, perking up. Harry was grateful. If Sherlock got more interested in his friend, she might be able to sneak off as soon as they get out of the cab.
"He died when I was younger. Twenty-one years ago now. My entire father's family died. My father, my uncle, and my cousin. I don't know what happened. They just…all died," John said.
Twenty-one years ago.
Voldemort. That was during Voldemort's reign. The beginning of it, before her parents had been killed.
And if he didn't know, then there was a good possibility that Voldemort had killed them. Harry's heart went out to John.
"You never mentioned any of them," Sherlock said.
"I didn't really know them. Mom told us Dad was disowned from his family when he was younger for something or another and Uncle James only stopped by once before him and his family were killed," John explained.
Harry had to work really hard to keep on choking at his words.
James. No. But it'd make sense.
Especially if Harry was a name that ran in the family. It would make sense for the squib branch to try connecting with the family despite everything. And it would explain why she looked so much like this sister of John's.
"I'll have to look into that. It sounds like a solid four," Sherlock murmured.
"Why don't you focus on your current mystery before the toddler eats your magnifying glass," John said wryly. Harry glanced down to see that Teddy had a piece of plastic in his mouth, gnawing happily away.
She gently eased it away from him, ignoring the hurt look he gave her when his newest toy was taken from him. Sherlock swiped it from her hands, giving the child an indignant look.
"That's mine," Sherlock told the child coldly. Teddy matched his glare fiercely.
"Mine," Teddy repeated furiously.
"No. Not yours," Sherlock corrected the child.
"Mine," Teddy claimed.
"Teddy," Harry chided. Teddy sent her an indignant look before glaring back at Sherlock.
"I see you're great with children," John muttered.
The cab stopped and Sherlock got out, grasping Harry's arm the moment her feet touched the pavement. So much for escaping, Harry thought with a sigh.
"I need to call Mary and let her know I'll be home later," John said as they entered a building.
"You don't have to stay," Sherlock pointed out, pouting.
"I think I do. I don't want to know what you'd do to the poor girl if I didn't stick around," John said, following them inside while pulling out his mobile.
Sherlock locked the flat behind them, slipping the key in his pocket before manhandling her to the bathroom. Only to sit there, arms crossed, staring at her expectantly.
"What?" Harry finally asked.
"You can go ahead and bathe," Sherlock told her, waving at the tub.
"With you standing there?" Harry asked, feeling sickened at the thought. Sherlock plucked Teddy from her arms, ignoring Teddy's squawk of protest.
"I'm not about to leave you in here alone with the child. You'd find some way to escape. I gather that you're highly resourceful. So you can either bathe with me standing here, holding your child, or I'll leave the room but keep the infant with me," Sherlock told her.
"You're not leaving my sight with him," Harry threatened instantly.
"Then we have an agreement. I'll be right here," Sherlock said.
"And you won't be watching?" Harry asked for clarification.
"Why would I watch you bathe?" Sherlock asked her seriously. Harry didn't respond.
"How am I supposed to clean Teddy?" she asked.
"I'll clean the infant," Sherlock said, his lip curling in disgust with the words. Harry stared at him for a moment before moving to the other side of the tub. She turned the water on, still watching Sherlock and Teddy. Sherlock was filling the sink with water, trying to keep Teddy from squirming.
"The bracelet doesn't come off," Harry said as Sherlock started removing Teddy's clothes. Sherlock's eyes slid over to her. Taking in the fact that she was still standing there, fully clothed, as the tub filled with water. He nodded briskly before turning his attention back to the child.
Harry, in turn, poured some body wash into the water and watched the bubbles build up.
Once there was a sizeable amount of bubbles, she stripped of her pants and undergarments, leaving her oversized shirt to cover her form as she stepped into the tub. She lowered herself slowly, keeping the bottom of the shirt just above the water as she did. Once she had sunk low enough that most of her body was covered, she finished removing the shirt and dropped it in the pile of dirty clothes.
With her eyes glued to Teddy and Sherlock, she began scrubbing the grime off of her arms. Teddy was whimpering as Sherlock pulled the cloth diaper off and dipped him into the sink full of water.
"Do you have any scissors?" Harry managed to ask. One hand still on the child, Sherlock rummaged through the mirror cabinet and stretched his arm out, offering Harry a pair of scissors. Harry gave him a quiet thanks as she pulled her ratty hair into a high ponytail and cut it off.
Now, not only did she not have to untangle the thirteen inches or so that she'd just cut off – but she'd look less like Harry Potter and more like someone else. A boy, she figured. She was fine with that.
Head feeling much lighter, Harry washed the remaining strands of hair as quickly as vigorously as she could. Teddy was still whimpering as Sherlock wiped him down. Harry was just about to climb out of the tub and wrap a towel around herself when the door opened and John walked in.
"SHERLOCK!" John roared, causing the man in question to jump and spin around.
Releasing his hold on Teddy.
The moment Teddy started sliding under the water in the sink, Harry was on her feet and out of the tub, ignoring her lack of clothes. She pulled him up as he coughed and sputtered the water up, eyes wide in fear. Harry sank to the ground, stroking Teddy's hair as she did. Her entire body was curled around Teddy.
"What the hell are you doing?" John demanded of Sherlock, moving quickly to Harry and Teddy. He grabbed the towel next to the tub and wrapped it around Harry as he examined Teddy.
"He's fine," Harry said quietly.
"He almost wasn't," John accused Sherlock.
"Honestly, if you hadn't barged in, yelling at me, I wouldn't have miscalculated," Sherlock pointed out.
"I wanted to know what you were doing in here. You could have held the child outside of the room while his mother bathed," John pointed out.
"She wouldn't allow the child out of her sight, and I wouldn't allow her out of mine," Sherlock pointed out.
"So you watched her bathe?" John demanded.
"Why is it that everyone believes I wish to watch women bathe? My only suspicion has yet to be confirmed, as she has kept her back to me the entire time. My deduction is relatively sound, however," Sherlock pointed out.
"So you did watch her bathe," John said, his voice almost eerily calm.
"Of course I was. I was searching for the signs of abuse so I could learn if she was running from a partner or a guardian," Sherlock stated. Harry wrapped the towel tighter around herself and Teddy and reached behind her, grip tightening on her backpack and purse. She slowly slipped them on, keeping an eye on the pair.
"So you thought it was okay for yourself to watch a woman bathe while holding her son hostage?" John asked, his voice rising.
"Not good?" Sherlock guessed.
"You're bloody right it's not good!" John exploded. Harry slid herself a few feet on the floor, eyes glued to the two of them. She made sure she had a good grip on the floor with the soles of her feet.
And she dove for the door.
She was out the bathroom door before either man realized what was happening.
Her luck ran out rather quickly when a slight weight collided with her. She collapsed to the ground, the weight on top of her. Teddy squawked in protest at the weight. The man on top of her retched the backpack off of her and flipped her, pinning her to the ground with his own body.
Sherlock.
"I have questions for you. I already informed you of this. I do not appreciate you dashing off like some madwoman at every occasion. Now, since you obviously cannot be bothered to answer my questions at a leisure pace, I'll pose them to you now. Partner or guardian?" Sherlock asked her.
"Sherlock! Get off the poor girl," John shouted at him, but Sherlock remained firmly placed on top of her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied, staring at a spot over his shoulder. They appeared to be Muggles, but she couldn't dismiss that niggling she'd felt on her mind's shields earlier.
One of Sherlock's hands traced a scar on her collarbone. It then moved to her upper left arm before tracing her right shoulder. All fading scars.
"Judging from the shade and texture of the frontal scars, I would deduce it was a childhood guardian that caused these injuries. When you ran, your back revealed a handful of more, equally faded scars. However, there were a handful of new scars as well, one to four years old at the most. Was your abusive guardian traded in for an abusive, powerful lover?" Sherlock guessed.
"I have no lover," Harry responded automatically.
"No lover, and a child. I see," Sherlock mused.
"Your response was too automatic to be a lie. You genuinely do not have a lover, or any lover who could be coming back for you. Therefore, someone else is after you. The causer of the newer scars? Oh. No. Certainly not. I see. Powerful, yes, but they haven't been given the chance to lay a hand on you yet," Sherlock stated as he stared at her. Harry squirmed underneath of him, trying to get some bit of leeway. Teddy had his head craned around, staring up at Sherlock with a combination of curiosity and disgust.
Something only Teddy could manage, Harry thought wryly.
"Now, this woman. What did she look like?" Sherlock asked.
"For God's sake, Sherlock, get off of her," John protested, yanking his friend up. He then helped Harry up, gripping her towel tightly when it started to slip.
"Go get your bathrobe," John ordered. Sherlock grumbled but left the room, coming back seconds later with a blue robe. John turned Harry away from Sherlock and slipped the robe on her shoulders, allowing her towel to drop as he wrapped the robe firmly around her. Teddy peeked his head out from the robe, eyeing them up.
"Now, what did this woman look like?" Sherlock asked even as John was guiding her to the couch, her backpack in his hands. She sat dutifully where he all but placed her, making sure she was on the edge of the seat.
"Black hair. Caucasian," Harry said.
"Anything else?" Sherlock asked, obviously frustrated.
"I couldn't see her very well," Harry said.
"No. I'd daresay you didn't. Not with that squinting going on. What happened to your glasses?" John asked her. Harry barely managed to keep from stiffening at his words. The glasses had been broken within a week of being on the streets and she realized the benefits of not having them. They were one of the many things that made her look more like Harry Potter than not.
"What glasses?" Harry lied. Sherlock waved the question off.
"Not important. Fine. You can't tell us anything about appearance. What were they saying?" Sherlock demanded.
"He said he could do better, she said his target would be suspicious now, and she ran him through with a knife," Harry recited dully.
"So I was the target. Fascinating," Sherlock mused.
"You seem fairly calm for having just watched someone die," John pointed out.
"She's seen death before. It doesn't bother her anymore," Sherlock waved it off.
"Then how do you know she's not the killer?" John asked.
"She had no blood on her, had a baby in her arms, and was firmly nestled in the dumpster for around five hours, I'd wager. She didn't have time to root herself so firmly in the dumpster," Sherlock waved it off.
"Now, why did you react to John calling you Harry? That was a quick, fearful reaction to being falsely recognized," Sherlock pointed out.
"Come on, Sherlock. She's not my sister. She looks just like her, yeah, besides the eyes, but Harry doesn't have a son. She's lesbian," John pointed out.
"No. She's not your sister. But you didn't say she was. You called her Harry and she tried to flee. Which means your name is either Harry, or the men searching for you call you Harry," Sherlock pointed out.
"So you're trying to tell me that not only does she look just like my sister, but she has the same name? Come on," John said, exasperated.
"You said your father had a whole family still out there. Harry could be a family name. And if your grandfather disowned your father, what's to say he wouldn't disown another member of the family?" Sherlock pointed out.
"Christ. And they were rich," John cursed quietly.
"Which would mean it would be your family searching for her. Probably to dispose of her and her illegitimate child, I would assume," Sherlock decided. Harry didn't make a move to correct him.
"But that family's dead. Dad said his father, James, and James's family was killed in some accident," John said.
"Did he say the entire family was dead? How old are you?" Sherlock asked her.
"Twenty," Harry said. At least, she was close enough. She wasn't sure of the date, so she didn't know for sure, but she was certain it was near her birthday.
"James died nineteen years ago," John said slowly.
"And you mentioned having a cousin," Sherlock pointed out.
"So we just happened upon my thought to be dead cousin?" John wanted to know. But Sherlock was already moving on.
"I'm assuming this means you'll want to be keeping her," Sherlock said.
"What?" John asked, Harry repeating him seconds later.
"You're always talking of how you wish you were closer to your sister. And that you wish you had more family. Here's an early wedding present," Sherlock said.
"I'm no one's present," Harry said, feeling anger bubble up in her at the words.
"I don't plan on keeping anyone!" John pointed out.
"So you're fine with us turning her out on the streets, never to see her again?" Sherlock asked curiously, "I thought that was something only I do."
"No, I don't want to turn her out in the streets!" John roared at his…friend. Sherlock only grinned at his words.
"Good. I was hoping to keep her nearby to study for awhile. And I'm certain Mrs. Hudson would love the help," Sherlock said.
"What?" John asked, staring at him.
"We'll have to tell people she is your sister to keep people from going after her," Sherlock decided.
"You can't just decide to keep someone without their permission!" John pointed out angrily.
"Of course you can. Isn't that what you do with pets?" Sherlock asked.
"She's a human being, not a pet!" John roared. Sherlock stared at his friend before turning to Harry. Harry's shields immediately went up.
"You care for your child, yes?" he asked. Harry didn't answer. She didn't need to.
"It's going to be a rough winter. The chill's already set in. It's going to rain a lot," Sherlock pointed out.
"We've already survived winters," Harry pointed out before she could stop herself.
"Fascinating," Sherlock said before shaking his head, "Yes, but this year is going to be significantly worse than last year. It's already to the stage where John wouldn't let me out of the flat without my coat, if he were still living here. Your progeny already has a runny nose. He won't last another winter," Sherlock pointed out. Harry glanced down at Teddy, horrified to see that Teddy did, indeed, have a runny nose. Harry cradled him closer to her, Teddy snuggling into her chest in return.
"On the other hand, our housekeeper broke her hip a few weeks ago. She's been unable to do much of anything, and her daughter-in-law left today to go home. I'm certain she would hire you to help her out. She also has a soft spot for children," Sherlock pointed out.
"And I'd be Harry Watson?" Harry asked softly. Sherlock turned to John for confirmation. He sighed after a moment and nodded.
"Yes. To everyone except for Mary and possibly Lestrade who already met you, you'll be Harry Watson. My sister," John said.
"What do you expect in return?" Harry asked, glancing between John and Sherlock.
"Want?" John asked, surprised.
"She's expecting for us to demand sex from her in place of allowing her such conditions," Sherlock said.
"You're my cousin. I wouldn't demand that of you!" John said. He turned to Sherlock, expecting Sherlock to agree with him, only to see Sherlock eyeing her body with an analytical gaze.
"I have no need for sex," Sherlock finally announced. John nodded before glancing at his watch.
"If this is what we're doing, I'll take her down and introduce her to Mrs. Hudson. Why don't you go out and buy a few supplies for the child?" John asked.
"Me?" Sherlock asked in disbelief.
"You're the one who wanted her to stay here. She'll stay here. You can buy things for her. I'm assuming you're going to have her stay in my old room. Do you need a list?" John asked. Sherlock continued to stare blankly at him. John sighed and rummaged around for a notepad and pen before glancing at Harry.
"What size diaper?" he asked. Harry stared at him blankly.
"I've never bought disposable diapers," she admitted.
"How old is he? They tend to be based on months," John pointed out.
"Two years old?" Harry guessed. Teddy would be twenty-seven months old when she turned 20, so she figured she'd keep with those dates.
"He's tiny for a two year old. We'll get him eighteen month old stuff. So diapers for a eighteen month old, some baby clothes, wipes, baby powder, baby lotion, baby shampoo, and a playpen. For starters," John said as he scribbled the words down.
"Is he eating solid foods?" John asked.
"When I can get it," Harry said quietly.
"Get whole milk as well, and an assortment of baby food. There should be a section with baby food. He'll need quite a bit to get him up to normal weight," John decided. He finished the list and handed it to Sherlock. Before taking it back once more.
"Hold on. You also need to get some real food in the house. For Harry. Because she needs to eat too," John said.
"I didn't sign up for this," Sherlock complained.
"Yes. You did. When you decided she would be staying, you took responsibility for her," John said. Harry waited for him to say he had changed his mind, but Sherlock just watched as John added a few food items to the list and shoved it back into Sherlock's hands.
Sherlock grumbled as he walked out of the room. John took Harry by the shoulder and guided her gently to a bedroom, where he started opening drawers. He pulled out a shirt and tossed it at her, followed by a pair of boxers.
"Here. Slip those on. I'll see if Mary has any clothes she isn't using tonight and I can bring them over," John told her.
"I have some clothes," Harry said.
"But I'm sure they're all dirty. If you've been living on the streets a few months, they could all use a good wash before you wear them again. I can't think of anything for Teddy to wear though," John said apologetically as he turned around. Realizing that was as good as she was going to get, Harry slipped the robe off and the shirt – Sherlock's shirt, she realized – on. She was short enough that it looked like a short dress on her – her breasts didn't help that out though, she thought irritably. She used to be able to wear boy clothes without much problem, but after she got pregnant she actually seemed to have developed breasts.
When she cleared her throat, John turned around.
"That'll have to do. After I introduce you to Mrs. Hudson, we can throw your clothes in the wash," John told her. Teddy didn't like that he didn't have any clothes on, Harry realized. He was also still hungry.
"Can I get something out for Teddy to wear?" she asked him. John nodded, looking awkward.
"Yes. Go ahead," he said. Harry took her backpack and dug around the top of it, pulling out the cleanest cloth diaper and shirt she had for him and slipped it on. It still looked grimy, Harry realized sadly. She also pulled a small piece of bread out, one from the previous night, and broke a small piece off for Teddy.
Teddy shoved the piece in his mouth happily, chewing quickly before swallowing and reaching for more. Harry stood to follow John, feeding Teddy small pieces as she did. She followed him down the stairs where he knocked on a door.
A breathy come in was shouted to them and John pushed open the door.
"Mrs. Hudson, it's John! I've brought someone to see you," he shouted back as he entered the kitchen, still grasping Harry's arm.
"Oh John! You don't visit enough!" an elder woman said as she reached for John. John crossed the distance, giving her a hug.
"Mrs. Hudson, this is my sister, Harry. Harry recently lost her job and home, so her and Teddy came to me. Sherlock was thinking of having them live with him for awhile, and I was thinking you could hire her to help you around the house while you're unable," John suggested.
"Like a housekeeper?" she asked with a bright smile. John nodded.
"Exactly. She could keep her son with her if she worked for you, unlike anywhere else. And Harry's very attached to Teddy," John said.
"She's also wearing Sherlock's favorite shirt," Mrs. Hudson said with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Yes. We had a mishap with Teddy spitting up on her last clean shirt, so we still have to wash her things," John explained, sharing a look with Harry.
"Well, yes, I would love to have her help. I have so much cleaning I need done, and I'm unable to get in my office to manage my finances. I could use the help," Mrs. Hudson said.
"Great! I'll send her down later today. I think today we're going to make sure Sherlock's flat is safe for her and Teddy. Then she'll be down," John told her with a smile.
"I'll look forward to it! Come down around four and we can have tea before going over what needs done!" Mrs. Hudson suggested. Harry nodded and followed John out of the flat.
"Now, I will warn you. Sherlock and I, we're trusting you here. If you so much as look at Mrs. Hudson wrong, Sherlock will hunt you down and hurt you. He's very fond of the landlady. Now, I wasn't kidding about the cleaning thing. That apartment is a health hazard."