Slight mature content warning. There's some sensitive topics in this one.


"Wow, Sherlock! Your house is so cool!" John looked around the mansion in awe, ducking quickly as a tea kettle floated past his head.

Sherlock just shrugged. "It's just a house. All old wizard families have similar ones."

"Yeah, well, my parents are teachers, so we don't have anything close to this." John jumped as an owl landed right in front of him. The tawny avian ruffled it's feathers and dropped a letter at Sherlock's feet, before taking off again.

Sherlock picked it up and read the short letter, before tossing it in a nearby bin. "Mum?" Sherlock called through the house.

A tall, beautiful woman with long raven hair cascading in curls around her pale face came into the entryway from another room. Her bright blue eyes shone with warmth as she walked over and pulled Sherlock into a hug. "Oh my dear Sherlock. Did you have fun at school?"

The twelve year old smiled at his mother. "You know how I feel about school."

"But I see you've made a friend." Mrs. Holmes extended a long, elegant hand to John.

"Mum, this is John Watson. Is it OK if he spends the night?"

"Of course. I'll ask Carmen to make something special for dinner tonight." She ruffled her son's hair. "Watson... I haven't heard that name before."

"John's a muggle born, Mum."

"Oh! Well, our home is your home. Be sure to ask if you need something." Mrs. Holmes turned to leave, but Sherlock caught the sleeve of her dress.

"Uh, Mum?" He said quietly. "Dad's not home, right?"

She put a comforting arm on his shoulder, "No dear. He shouldn't be home until tomorrow."

Sherlock visibly relaxed, then grabbed John and said, "C'mon, John! I want to show you my lab!" He started pulling John towards a flight of stairs. "Oh, and Mycroft said he won't be home for a few days. Interning with The Minister."

"That's fine." Mrs. Holmes said, before John and Sherlock were out of earshot.

John got a full tour of the house, and was awe struck at all the features of the house. Sherlock had his own potions lab, and his room was huge. The family had a very large garden and several swans and peacocks roaming the grounds. Then, after exploring the secret passages under and through the house, they sat down for a large steak dinner at a huge dining room table.

"You have a great house, Mrs. Holmes!" John complimented as they went upstairs to get ready for bed.

"Thank you, dear. You're welcome back at any time."

They brushed their teeth, then crawled into Sherlock's over-sized bed, the color scheme of the sheets brown and blue for Ravenclaw. They stayed up for most of the night, talking and cracking jokes, Sherlock listening to John rant about his crush on the Hufflepuff girl, Sarah. Just as they were about to fall asleep, however, a loud voice boomed through the house. "SHERLOCK HOLMES!" The S's were slurred just a bit.

Sherlock curled up under the sheets and began to tremble. John pulled the comforter up over his head and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Sherlock?"

They heard Mrs. Holmes' voice next. "David, no. Leave him alone. Please!"

"Get off me, Victoria!" There was the muffled sound of a small struggle, then, "Sherlock!"

"Please, David! He has a friend over! Please stop!"

Sherlock sprang out of bed and out the door, closing it behind him. John got up and pressed his ear against the door. He heard Sherlock say softly, "Father."

Then John jumped in shock as he heard the sound of fists on skin and bone, and Mrs. Holmes' soft sobbing the background, the word 'please' set on repeat. All the while, Mr. Holmes kept shouting, "You didn't ask me to have a friend over! You just barely passed your Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year! Why can't you be more like your brother?"

The sounds stopped, and John realized he had covered his mouth and begun to cry. He scrambled back away from the door, as it opened roughly, and the soon-to-be third year was practically thrown into the room. Then they heard, "Shut up, Victoria! Quit your crying, or I'll give you a reason to cry!" The house was silent again.

John pulled out his wand and lit the end of it with a timid 'Lumos'. Sherlock stared at his feet, his lip bloody and a nice bruise forming on his fragile cheekbone. John got up and moved slowly to his friend, then slowly took his hand and pulled him to the bathroom. There, he washed away the blood and tears. Neither of the friends said a word about what happened.

As soon as Sherlock's wounds were patched, he fell into John's arm with a choking sob. John held his friend as he cried, a display Sherlock never let anyone else see. When the younger boy could breathe again, he croaked, "I'm sorry you had to hear that. Please don't leave me."

"Sherlock, it's OK. I'm in too deep now to leave." The two laughed quietly. "You are my best friend, after all."