Thank you all for reading and for your patience... and for the lovely reviews of course :D

(SeverusDmitri18) Well, here it is.

(Sailor Celaeno) :) Glad you think so.

(forTheLoveOfHades) Well, I think he lasted pretty long :)

(Sarah) Thank you :) Technically he lasted just few hours of one morning in Sherlock's presence, but I still think he deserves a pat on the shoulder for trying.

(Erydanes) :D I know he is... he will get better.

(mervoparkite) Yeah, I think so too... keeping the anger bottled up can do bad things to one's health... that and Sherlock sometimes needs to be told off.

(lulu) Thanks :) Yeah, things will get better. Imagine no longer :) George & John chapter is here :D I try to get in bits and pieces of HP history whenever possible, so I am sure it will be here and there...

(0Harry. J. Potter0) Thank you :)

(BlueMoonMaples) I'm glad Ron had that rant too :D I will see what can I do.

Chapter 22

"Well, Sherlock, this morning was a brilliant display of how you do not behave around people," started John once they were halfway on their way to Charing Cross.

Up until this point neither of them refused to start a conversation and the only words spoken were to the cabbie, when Sherlock told him where he should take them.

"You're lucky Ron's loyalty to Harry is stronger than his desire to punch you in the face, because that's what you deserved. Tomorrow you will apologize and hope this will not have any consequences," continued the doctor. "I'm not even sure if I really want to go to the Alley, after all this."

"Don't be ridiculous, John. I doubt this diminished your curiosity about everything," replied Sherlock.

"You don't even feel guilty, do you?" questioned John.

"And what will that accomplish," said the other man. "I will apologize, if it is necessary, but not once did I say something that is untrue. He is mediocre, easily overlooks what should be obvious and doesn't want us along. Probably thinking wizards can do everything better because they have magic, not even trying to learn basics about us."

John gaped. "You can't possibly think that! So stop behaving like a bastard and if you have nothing decent to say at least shut up." He ran his hand over his face tiredly. "And I really do wonder why he doesn't want you along. It's so hard to find a reason. Because, he really was okay whenever you were gone. That should tip you off! He is not against this idea, he is just afraid how the whole thing will end up. Even Mycroft! Weren't you listening? It's something that goes against their very laws; of course even those who support it would be wary! And if you must know, you aren't really helping with your attitude."

"I will apologize," repeated Sherlock dully.

It was useless. Unless the man himself admitted it was uncalled for, he wouldn't be moved. John just sighed.

The rest of the ride went in silence. Soon they found themselves in front of the familiar pub, where Hannah greeted them just like the day before. They didn't stay inside for long and after the entrance was opened for them, John looked around.

"Well, Apothecary then?" he asked somewhat blankly. His enthusiasm for this trip was marred by that day's events.

"Bank first, I believe," replied Sherlock and started walking towards the familiar white building.

"Right," nodded John as he caught up with him. "Do you have money you can exchange there? I didn't see you take much cash when we left this morning."

"I took one of Mycroft's cards I have and stopped at cash machine when I was with Agatha," explained Sherlock.

"So you were always planning to come here today?" asked John.

"Not really," replied Sherlock. "I wasn't sure how the day would go, but I needed to take it, just in case."

"And it went just perfectly, didn't it?" muttered John.

"What was that?" asked Sherlock as he started moving again.

"Nothing. Listen, would you mind if I just look around, until you're back? We'll bump into each other somewhere, it's not like I need money. I'm not buying anything."

The detective stopped and frowned at his friend. "What if you get lost? We should keep together; we still don't know this place that well."

"It's an Alley, Sherlock, not a labyrinth, I think I can manage," retorted John dryly. "We also wouldn't have this problem if you hadn't driven the wizard that accompanied us away."

"He would still have left. Don't you remember, he needs to see his brother," Sherlock reminded him mockingly. "So if you think…"

"His brother has a wizarding shop!" John lost his patience. "Where do you think it's located?! In Scotland?!"

This was new information for Sherlock. "And he refused to take us despite apparating here himself?!"

"And you're surprised?" asked John exasperated. "So do you mind?"

"Not really," shrugged Sherlock, "if you need to find me later, I will either be in the Apothecary or in the wand shop…"

"Or the one with cauldrons," added John, though Sherlock apparently didn't agree.

"That would be just a quick stop. I will undoubtedly spend more time in the establishments I mentioned."

"Why can't we just meet in the Leaky Cauldron?" questioned the doctor.

"We can," agreed the detective and left John standing not far away from the entrance.

He wandered aimlessly for a short period of time, before deciding to enter the sport shop he was eyeing the day before.

The shop assistant was helping some man pick an appropriate toy broomstick for his kid, so John had time to look around uninterrupted. It was very interesting inside. Colourful badges and scarves supporting different teams. Red balls (which he recalled being called Quaffles), though the other two kinds were nowhere to be seen. Various broom-care products, either displayed as stand-alones or in kits. Compasses and other accessories and, most importantly, different broomstick models. John suspected there were a lot more, but people would need to choose from a brochure, because there was no way they could get dozens of brooms into this cramped shop.

And then there was one broom in a showcase with a golden plate. It read Firebolt – Ginny Potter nee Weasley, Holyhead Harpies, 2000 – 2004, Chaser.

It was a beautiful broom. Even John, who until recently regarded those as a household tools, could see that; but it was also obviously used a lot. Some of the twigs were sticking out and the handle had lost the shine other, new, brooms displayed.

"Admiring the best?" asked the shop assistant when he waddled towards John. "We have it on loan for a few months. Till the end of July, actually. Otherwise the Harpies keep this one locked up. We have another famous one in our other shop in Hogsmeade. But that's the point, the company got it from the teams as a promo. Spudmore is going to release a renovated version during the summer. Potter is one of the people who was asked to write reviews, so she will get her hands on one of the first ones that will be produced. I've got to say, folks are pretty excited about this. It's the biggest deal in Quidditch right now. The teams and people are ready to place orders as soon as possible. But if they are going to make them in such quantities and at the same price as the old versions, not many will get them."

John was just nodding along, not understanding everything, but still getting the main idea. He just wondered how to ask more about Ginny Potter and not sound too ignorant. But that was unnecessary, because the man didn't need any prompting.

"I tell you, it was just bad luck that England didn't get the cup when she was in representation. But still, finals, right? Not everyone makes it that far."

"Yeah, brilliant," agreed the doctor.

"So you wanted something?" asked the shop assistant.

"Oh, no, thank you, I was just looking," said John hurriedly.

"Very well." said the man, "If you change your mind, I'll be over there." He pointed towards different section and soon enough John heard him explaining to a young woman what the difference was between two brands of polishing wax.

He didn't stay for long after that and left the shop, wondering where to go now. He could have looked for Sherlock, but he didn't want to yet, so he decided to just walk around and observe the hustle and bustle of the street. It was surprisingly enjoyable and it helped to clear his mind. But it didn't last for too long.

Soon he came across a very eye-catching shop that clashed with everything around and yet it unmistakably belonged on this street and nowhere else. To his surprise, this must have been the shop Ron talked about, because how could it not be, when the name said 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' in giant letters.

He wanted to turn around and leave, but as luck would have it a window opened and a ginger head stuck out and beckoned him in. Ignoring the 'closed' sign, John obeyed and closed the door behind him carefully.

He needed a moment to get used to the shop – it was a whirl of mismatched colours, and shelves upon shelves of fantastic things he longed to inspect more closely. The man who invited him in must have been the brother Ron mentioned, though he was stockier than the lanky Auror, the resemblance was still there (as was the red hair that framed his face). His clothes were as fascinating as the shop itself – from the purple and green hat down to the ridiculous green (leather?) boots.

"Hi," he said. "I am George Weasley, businessman extraordinaire. You are John Watson, right?"

The doctor nodded. "How do you know?"

"Oh, I am also a mind-reader," waved George carelessly. "Right now you're thinking how you've never seen such an amazing place as this. But now, please close the window, we're testing new materials here and we don't want the competition to get a whiff of those, do we?"

John just looked at him funnily, but moved towards the window. Just before he closed it a bug flew out of curtain, as if it knew it would be trapped inside if it waited for a moment longer.

"I told him," he heard suddenly and as he whirled around he saw Ron emerging from back of the shop with a giant box in his hands. He put it, none too gently, on the floor and his eyes landed on his brother. "Please, get rid of that ridiculous thing. I have no idea why you bought it."

"Right. Spoil everything, why won't you? Don't mind that I'm trying to make an impression here." George rolled his eyes as he put the hat on the counter. "And try to be more careful. That's my living you just dropped. You won't be amused when I have you repay the damage."

If John wasn't a retired soldier, he wouldn't be able to maintain a neutral facade. When the man removed the hat, it moved his hair in such way that revealed he was missing an entire ear on the right side (instead there was just a gaping hole), before it fell back in place.

Ron just shook his head and addressed the doctor, "I saw you and thought I would call you over. You can get a good look around now that we're closed for today. Pretty neat, huh?"

"You're bragging? About my shop? Brother dear, if I was not horrified at the means you would use to boost your popularity, I would be honoured," commented George smirking. "But using my poor innocent shop like this…"

"As if I haven't helped here," retorted Ron lightly. "Some of these products are even my idea."

"Point taken," said George. "So, how can our humble selves be of assistance?" he asked, once again turning his attention to John. "Oh, I know. Ronniekins –"

"Stop it!" protested the man in question.

"– enjoyed those… gummi?" he took out a jar with jelly shaped in the form of various animals and offered it to John, who hesitated for a moment, but took one out and plopped it into his mouth.

"Good choice," approved George. "Ron took out a fish and then refused to tell me what he thought. So? Good?"

John wanted to thank him for the candy and say that the apple flavour was rather tasty, but when he opened his mouth, he croaked not unlike a frog. His hands flew to his throat and he looked at both men accusingly.

"Joke shop, remember?" Ron reminded him. "It lasts for one sentence. You can talk now."

"That was…" tried John and to his delight, his voice was really back.

"Yes?" prompted him George.

"… amazing," he finished. "But next time warn me."

"I'm going to give you a warning. Be wary of everything you find here," Ron told him and listed a few items as John listened bemusedly. "The food? Be glad you just croaked. You could have ended up vomiting. Or with a tongue the length of a snake. Those binoculars and telescopes? They punch people. The quills and ink? At the least they won't write properly, at worst they will cause small explosion…"

"Ouch," the elder brother faked a hurt expression. "So much for your prankster pride. So Mr Watson…"

"He's a doctor – Muggle Healer," corrected him Ron.

"Dr Watson, then," said George, "would you mind me asking… Where did you leave that bat out of hell that Ronnie here complained about? I was looking forward to meeting him."

John really didn't like the evil glint in the man's eyes, as he glanced towards some silvery instruments lying on nearby shelves. "You mean Sherlock?"

"No idea," admitted the wizard. "Do I?" he turned to his brother.

"Yeah, well… I was mad. Sorry I forgot to mention the name as I rambled," replied Ron sarcastically.

"Yes, because he would have the names you did mention only if his parents hated him a lot," agreed George, then added solemnly. "You're forgiven. Don't forget next time though. Imagine if I came across some other tall, dark and broody individual and started telling him off while he didn't have the foggiest what I'm talking about."

"Or you can just stop poking your nose into my business," suggested the younger redhead.

"Ah-ha! But you dragged me into it, when you started complaining. And it's my brotherly duty to nose around!"

"Oh, bother," murmured Ron, but he didn't seem all that unhappy.

"I really am sorry for all that happened earlier," said John once again, though of course he knew it meant nothing, until Sherlock took the blame too.

"Not your fault," replied Ron. "Though, please, keep your friend away from me if possible. Where is he anyway?"

"He went to exchange some money and then find stuff for his experiments, I guess. So we split up. Apothecary doesn't sound that appealing to me," replied the blonde man.

Suddenly the other brother interrupted them. "Well, Ron, enough of this chattering. I don't need you to laze around. We need to have this done, so would you mind taking that box back. I noticed you took the wrong one. I told you the one with blue lid, not the green one. And after the work is done, we can finally have some lunch."

"I'm going. I'm going," grumbled Ron, picking the box again. "Though you definitely didn't say that."

"Word of advice, Dr Watson," George turned to John as soon as Ron left, his jolly demeanour gone for the moment. "Make sure that your friend stops before it's too late, or this might not end well."

John blinked, not expecting something like that.

"That's not a threat," explained the wizard, after seeing the man's confusion, "but make sure your friend doesn't make the mistake of attacking Ron again. He is as much war hero as Harry, along with a lot of other people. A lot of people who won't stand for this kind of attitude. I would be first to admit that Ron may have his moments, but I haven't seen him so upset over something like this for a long time. Tell Mr Holmes that his words were both unnecessary and uncalled for."

"Of course," said John miserably. Great, now thanks to Sherlock's behaviour, the whole Weasley family would look at them differently. There was not really any reason not to expect it. If the two brothers shared this, within the day all of the others would know it too. He remembered the nice older wizard, who was so enthusiastic about meeting them in Harry's office and wondered what he would think after today…

"Is this the one?" shouted Ron as he was returning with even bigger box than he had before.

"Yeah," nodded George, his previous sombre mood gone. Suddenly he smiled at others wickedly. "So who wants to be the first one to try out this newest addition to the line of supreme WWW products? It's an improvement of one of the oldest ones. We're keeping those too, of course, but these should get popular in no time!" He opened the box with flourish and took out one of the things that were stored inside. It was a simple, innocent looking bottle. "It shouldn't be dangerous at all. This is supposed to be one of the final tests."

Ron and John just looked at each other and simultaneously backed away.