Here's another chapter. Again, I'm so sorry about these delays. I'm pretty busy trying to figure everything out in a foreign country.
Chapter 6:
Sherlock led Harry down the streets and to a small Italian diner, one that looked to be quite full.
"Are you certain we can get a table here?" Harry asked dubiously, tightening her grip on Teddy.
"Of course we can. I have a standing reservation," Sherlock told her, one corner of his mouth twitching upward in the semblance of a smile.
Sure enough, there was a table with his name on it. Not just on a card – the name was actually engraved on the table. Harry stared at it in disbelief.
"What did you do?" she asked him. The other corner of his mouth rose. Before the words could leave his mouth, a large man came bounding over, wide grin on his face.
"Sherlock! You've brought a date!" he said cheerfully.
"I did," Sherlock said with a nod.
"A female date," he emphasized. If he grinned any more, his face would have split in half, Harry surmised.
"John was never my date. Just a friend," Sherlock corrected him.
"My name is Angelo," the man said with a smile, holding his hand out to Harry. Harry slipped her hand in his.
"This is Harry Watson. And our son, Theo Holmes," Sherlock said. Angelo's eyes widened.
"A son?" Angelo asked in disbelief. Sherlock nodded as he picked up the menu.
"Indeed. I appreciate having a carbon copy of myself around," Sherlock stated as he perused the menu.
"What would you like, Harry dear? Angelo makes a fine fettuccini," Sherlock suggested. Harry nodded. She doubted she would be able to eat much of it – but Teddy could. Teddy could and would eat whatever she offered him.
"That sounds fantastic. I believe I'll share with Te-Theo," Harry corrected herself. Teddy stared up at her dubiously.
"It'll taste good," Harry promised. She'd had a fettuccini once at Hogwarts and it had been quite fantastic. Angelo nodded and wrote it down, turning to Sherlock.
"Same for me. Three glasses of water, as well," Sherlock said, waving the man off. Sherlock sat the menu down and stared intently at her.
"Now, you seem to have recovered relatively quickly," Sherlock said.
"Pardon?" Harry managed, staring at him.
"You had pneumonia. Walking pneumonia. Then you lived on the streets for a month with it. Not only did Theo not contract it – we tested him – but you were only a bit worse than you were when you ran off from the hospital. Was that part of your magic?" Sherlock asked her, his voice low.
"I guess. I knew I couldn't get too sick – I couldn't help Teddy if I was that bad. And I knew Teddy couldn't get sick. I willed it to be, and my magic helped," Harry admitted, her voice equally quiet.
"So you could do that, but you couldn't do anything to help yourself? What about creating money?" Sherlock asked.
"Before, I had my bag. It had my money in it. You can't create money or food," Harry informed him.
"The others. You told them you didn't have a…wand. Which I am assuming is what they all used. You can still perform magic without it?" Sherlock asked.
"I can. For the most part. Most people cannot. That's where it gets complicated," Harry admitted ruefully.
"I see. I will have to do my research," Sherlock mused before smirking at the window. Harry glanced the same way, making sure she didn't look obvious. Nothing was out there.
"What are you looking at?" Harry asked.
"My brother has spotted us. Took him long enough. It was bad enough, when I brought you and Theo to the hospital last month. Some sort of national crisis distracted him and he never noticed you. But now? This is just sloppy," Sherlock said disdainfully.
"Before, I thought you wanted to keep me from him?" Harry asked.
"I did. Now I need an identity for Theo. One for you would be nice, but the only identity he will offer me for you is that of my wife. We'll wait awhile on that one," Sherlock said. Harry felt a wave of panic well up inside of her. She quickly suppressed it.
"And what if I don't ever want to?" Harry asked, unconsciously reaching to grip Teddy's small hand in her own.
"Don't want to what?" Sherlock asked, his attention shooting back to Harry.
"What if I don't ever want to marry you?" Harry asked, steadying her voice in a last ditch effort at confidence.
"I'm afraid you ought to have thought about that before you procreated with my brother."
The voice came from behind Harry and she had Teddy in her arms as soon as it began. It reminded her of Severus, back in the beginning days when the class he taught was all snarls and hate-filled petty insults.
"What took you so long in arriving?" Sherlock drawled, leaning back in his seat. The man took a seat in the chair Harry had just tugged Teddy from, a woman standing a foot behind him with her cell phone planted firmly in her hands.
"Had to run facial recognition. Pesky thing. A couple possible matches. Now. The question is this: are you wearing contacts?" the man asked her.
"She has poor vision. John said he was lucky enough to have inherited his mother's eyesight," Sherlock said, rolling his own eyes.
"But Harriet Watson is not in London. Nor is she heterosexual," the man said with an air of disdain.
"What do you mean by that? Are you saying that I have no choice? I have to marry him because I had a kid with him? That's not how society works anymore," Harry said, not liking what Sherlock's brother was implying. Especially not since she truly hadn't had a kid with him.
That, and she didn't know how Sherlock planned on distracting him from his current thought process. He had an air to him, Harry decided. An air of authority. And the fact that he was able to hack the CCTV and run facial recognition on her so easily – that alarmed her. Who knew what else he could do?
"The rest of society may be full of degenerates, but the Holmes family is still rather prestigious. We will not have bastards running around," the man said disdainfully.
"You will if I have anything to say about it!" Harry shot back, barely managing to keep her voice down as she did. It took a lot of effort to suppress her Gryffindor urges and engage the pompous man in a fist fight right then and there.
Wow. She hadn't felt so Gryffindor since the war ended. It was in interesting feeling.
"I can see the family resemblance. She is uncannily like John, isn't she? A female John. No wonder she caught your attention," the man said.
"Why exactly are you here, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, finally deeming it worth his time to interrupt the fight Harry had engaged in.
"Your son is unregistered. There is no records of him. No facial recognition matches, nothing. I don't know how you managed to hide him and the girl, but you did a great job. However, now that I've been informed of this oversight, I'm here to fix it," the man Sherlock called Mycroft said.
"Register him then. Theo Holmes. Short for Theodore," Sherlock said with a wave of his hand.
"What if I don't want him registered?" Harry asked, glancing between the two brothers.
She did. If she could register him as Theo Holmes, it would mean she would have a safe identity for him to fall back on. However, if she just agreed to it without agreeing to her own identity, she would look suspicious. She had to offer just the right amount of resistance.
Besides, it wasn't as if this Mycroft wasn't going to leave without securing the information he wanted.
"We already talked about this," Sherlock warned her, staring at her.
"We may have talked about it, but that doesn't mean I want it. I'm not registered, and neither was my father. Why should my son be registered? We survived just fine, thank you very much," Harry said firmly. Both Mycroft and Sherlock were observing her – Sherlock seemed to have caught on to what she was doing by that point.
"I don't think you understand. In today's society, everyone has an identity. You do not. That is unacceptable. What were to happen if you were picked up by the police? Or stopped at an airport? You'd be thrown in prison for being suspicious before you could even open your mouth. Everyone had identification nowadays. Except for you and your son," Mycroft informed her, staring intently at her.
"I don't care," Harry said, jutting her chin out.
"Fine. But we have to register Theo. How are we going to send him to school without an identity? Schools have changed in the last ten years or so," Sherlock told her. Harry bit her lip, thinking intently. Not over what he said – but if Mycroft was like his brother, he would be able to tell if she was thinking or not. She made sure not to make eye contact as she mulled stuff over in her head a few minutes. Her identity was going to have to be carefully crafted, she realized.
On top of that, Mycroft said he hadn't seen her face before.
It made sense, Harry decided. She was always bruised or had a broken nose when she was sent to school before eleven. Any time she went out she was covered in some sort of bandages or long hair to cover the mottled colored skin from a thrashing she'd received.
Who knew all of that would actually be a blessing to her now?
"Fine. You can register Theo," Harry said quietly. The secretary woman behind Mycroft moved closer.
"Name?" she asked.
"Theodore Holmes," Sherlock supplied.
"Date of birth?"
" April 30, 1998," Harry said. The woman scribbled it down.
"Parents' names?" she asked.
And Harry froze.
Because of course they would need parents' names on it. If she just put Sherlock's name, he could take Teddy away from her. And if she put her name down, then Mycroft could register and they'd find her.
"See, dear, this is the problem," Mycroft said, staring at her.
"Harry Watson," Harry finally said.
"We established earlier that you are not Harry Watson," Mycroft said with a sigh.
"I'm John's cousin. My last name's Watson as much as his is," Harry shot back with a hiss.
"And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?" Mycroft asked, eyes glinting.
"John's branch of the family was disowned and changed their names. They too, were unregistered. Any records of their existence is under then name Watson. And so will mine," Harry said with a tone of finality.
"Harry Watson? No middle name?" the secretary asked.
"Jaime. Harry Jaime Watson," Harry said.
"Date of birth?"
"August 1st, 1979," Harry said, giving herself another year. That could only help her, she decided.
"She's a bit young for you," Mycroft said.
"She was eighteen," Sherlock pointed out.
"And you were in your late twenties," Mycroft added. Sherlock waved him off.
"You got both their identities. You can leave now," Sherlock said.
"I just need one more thing," he said, pulling a sheet of paper from his briefcase. He slid it over to Sherlock.
"She just said no to that," Sherlock pointed out. Harry leaned over, frowning at the word marriage.
"I'm not ready to marry anyone," Harry decided.
"Unfortunately, if you do not agree to the marriage, I will be forced to place custody of the child in Sherlock's name, and he would be removed within the week for negligence," Mycroft said with a superior sneer.
"Oh Mycroft, do your research. Harry and Theo live with me," Sherlock retorted, leaning back gracefully in his chair. Mycroft gave him one last sneer before standing.
"Christmas is next week, brother. Mummy would be very displeased if you and your…unattached family…did not show up with you," Mycroft said.
"I had no intentions of going," Sherlock said with a sniff.
"Of course you didn't. Mummy was just complaining that she's only seen you twice since your miraculous revival," Mycroft said.
"Mummy is always complaining about what she likes to refer to as my dismal manners," Sherlock drawled.
"Mummy will be a force to be reckoned with if you do not present her with your son," Mycroft said.
"Oh look, Mycroft. Here comes our food," Sherlock said. Mycroft gave one final sneer before heading out the door, the woman following him closely.
Sure enough, the man who'd greeted them when they sat down placed food in front of both Sherlock and Harry, before placing a smaller empty plate in front of Teddy. Harry immediately began cutting the pasta and chicken into small pieces and transferring them to Teddy's plate. Once she'd sufficiently filled his plate, she helped him maneuver the silverware. Teddy wasted no time acclimating himself to the cutlery and was shoveling food into his mouth as fast as Harry would let him.
"It's okay. You can eat slower," Harry told him in a soothing voice. Teddy gave her a look of doubt but appeared to try slowing down a bit.
"You ought to eat as well," Sherlock pointed out.
"So should you," Harry shot back. Sherlock's eyebrow went up slowly as he regarded her carefully. As he did, he picked up a fork and began eating. Harry matched his movements.
"Was that good?" Harry asked, making sure not to move her lips as she did.
"Adequate," Sherlock agreed. Harry nodded.
By the time Teddy had finished eating, he was falling asleep into his plate. Before Harry could move to lift him into her arms, Sherlock had him.
"Are you finished as well?" Sherlock asked. Harry nodded, trying to ignore the part of her that said she couldn't waste the food and had to finish eating it. Sherlock pulled her to her feet and guided her out of the restaurant with a nod to the man who'd served them.
"Don't you need to pay?" Harry asked him.
"Angelo refuses to allow me to pay. He will to you too, if you come in with Theo," Sherlock said. The two of them walked a ways in silence, Sherlock's hand still on the small of her back.
"Why did you leave?" Sherlock asked her after a few minutes.
"I thought you already knew that," Harry said, swallowing.
"I deduced a reason, but I would like to hear it from you," Sherlock said.
"I didn't feel safe."
Her words were met by silence. A glance out of the corner of her eyes said that Sherlock was thinking it all over.
"And what would it take to make you feel safe?"
It was Harry's turn to think. Feeling safe. She'd have to think back to the last time she'd felt safe.
But when was that?
When had she ever truly felt safe? Hogwarts did nothing but try to kill her. Her relatives did the same. When she was last at Grimmault Place, she was hiding in hopes no one would find her.
Had she ever felt safe?
"Security," Harry finally managed to say.
"Identity security, child security, food security?" Sherlock prattled on.
"Yes."
Sherlock nodded thoughtfully at her words.
"I'll take care of that," Sherlock promised.
At Baker Street, he held the door and led her up the stairs. Mary and John were still there, sitting at the table. John looked ecstatic to see them returning. He was over to them in an instant, throwing his arms around Harry. Harry's automatic reaction to stiffen took a lot of fighting to override.
"How did dinner go?" Mary asked them.
"Good. Say hello to Harry Watson, your cousin, and Theo Holmes," Sherlock said.
"So Mycroft took care of everything?" John asked.
"He did try to push the marriage certificate, but we ignored it," Sherlock said, waving it off.
"And he just gave in?" Mary asked, staring critically at him.
"He did say we had bettered show up for Christmas dinner, but I rarely go to Christmas dinners," Sherlock said.
"But Theo's never been to a Christmas dinner," Mary said.
"Why do you say that?" John asked, only for Mary to give him a frown.
"Oh. Right," John corrected.
"It's okay. He doesn't need to go to a Christmas dinner," Harry said, her voice quiet.
"Everyone has to go to Christmas dinners every once in a while. They're a unique occurrence," John told her with a smile.
Harry only shrugged.
"Harry….have you ever been to a Christmas dinner?" Mary asked her softly.
"They aren't that important," Harry murmured.
"You've never been to a Christmas dinner?" John asked in disbelief. Harry could only shake her head.
"We had dinners at the school, but it was usually just a few kids who didn't have families to go home to and the teachers," Harry explained.
"And your relatives wouldn't let you come home?" John asked.
"My relatives never let me eat in the three days surrounding Christmas when I was home," Harry said bitterly, pulling Theo gently from Sherlock's arms. She made her way back to the room she'd woken up in – Sherlock's room – without another word.
"You should go this year," Mary said gently to Sherlock.
"Because she's never gone?" Sherlock asked. Mary nodded.
"I doubt she has good memories associated with Christmas. Make a few with her," Mary ordered him. Sherlock frowned but nodded.
"I guess we're all going to Christmas dinner at Mummy's."