Author's Note: Hey lovelies! So not only are you getting an update for this story, it also happens to be the one year anniversary of Nights in Diagon Alley! I can't believe it's been a year since I've started this series. I'm so happy to have all of you lovely readers coming along for this ride. I'd also like to remind you that, Nights in Diagon Alley has made it to the Finals in the Enchanted Awards over on the GES Facebook group. Thank you if you voted in the Semi-Finals! If you wouldn't mind taking a few minute to pop over and vote for me again, I'd love you even more. I'm also up for a few other stories/categories. I'll list them below. The voting link is there too! Thank you in advance if you happen to vote!
*When Worlds Collide: Best Crossover*
-Nights in Diagon Alley
-Wolves without Teeth
*All the Feels: Best Angst*
-Teardrops & Teacups
VOTE HERE: h*t*tps:/drive*.*google*.*com/drive/folders/0B3wiwGvGfgYMUVZKZWF4ZkZMWUE?usp=sharing(remove the * to access the link)
Thank you GaeilgeRua for beta reading for me! So much love for you! xxDustNight
Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, and information belongs to J.K. Rowling, BBC, or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.
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Nights in 221B
Rated: M
Pairing: Hermione/Sherlock, Sherlock/John (implied)
Summary: When Hermione leaves the wizarding world behind, choosing to aid Sherlock in his desperate search for Moriarty, she learns much more about the consulting detective than she ever thought possible.
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Chapter Eight
"When was the last time you slept?"
Sherlock merely glared at Hermione, his eyes lifting from his laptop screen for the briefest of moments before returning to whatever he'd been furiously typing. When he didn't respond to her question, Hermione heaved a sigh and forcefully shut the lid of said laptop. It earned her a strangled sort of sound from the detective, who promptly tried to reopen the device.
"You haven't slept in days, Sherlock. It's not healthy," Hermione scolded, picking up the laptop and cradling it to her chest before backing away from her lover. "You need a break."
"I'm perfectly fine. I've trained my mind and body to go long periods of time without certain luxuries." Sherlock was frowning at her, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as if that was going to make her give back his research materials.
"Sleeping and eating are not luxuries-they're necessities!" Completely aghast at Sherlock's lack of self-care, she stormed from the room. Unsurprisingly, he followed along right behind her, practically stomping as he did so. Whirling around, she pointed a finger at his face. "You stop that right now. It's late and Mrs. Hudson is probably fast asleep!"
"We have a case to solve, Hermione! I do not have time for simple things like eight hours of uninterrupted sleep or a proper meal!" Raising his voice, Sherlock tried desperately to grab for the computer, but Hermione backed away. "Now, give me back my laptop so I can finish the email I was sending to the Prime Minister."
"What!?" Yelling herself now, Hermione did the only thing she could think of: She opened the top drawer of Sherlock's dresser and placed the laptop inside before sealing it with a locking charm. "That's it! I'm forcing you to take a break this instant! You can't just work yourself until you're on your last leg."
"It's never harmed me before," he practically whined, ducking around Hermione to frantically try and open the drawer. "Open this at once."
"No," she firmly stated, placing both hands on her hips and leveling him with her hardest glare. It was the one she used to use on Harry and Ron when they refused to do their revisions back at Hogwarts. "You're going to have some soup and then sleep. Until at least seven."
When he opened his mouth to protest, she raised an eyebrow, daring him to argue further. Inhaling, he puffed out his chest before exhaling in a huff. "We're so close to finding Moriarty, can you not feel it? I have warned you previously about my peculiarities. Call John. He will confirm them. "
"Sherlock," Hermione sighed, shoulders sagging as she closed her eyes. "It's different now. I do not need to call John… I don't want you to wear yourself down to the point where you do or miss something because of carelessness."
"I will not."
"Don't." Her voice was firm, laced with a sadness that nearly made Sherlock falter. "Please don't make me do something I regret. You need your sleep… I need you to sleep. Do it for me..."
Blinking, Sherlock tried to calm the flash of anger that threatened to overtake him. He did not want to fight with Hermione, nor did he want to unintentionally make a mistake when it came to Moriarty. She had a point, but he did not want to give in. Not now, not when he was so close to the end he could taste it. Watching as she opened her eyes, he met her stare. Knowing he would not win this battle, he stepped forward and carded his fingers through her curls.
"I shall doze until five, and then have breakfast. That is my compromise." Staring down in her eyes, he was fairly certain she was going to fight back still, force him to rest longer, but she gave him a simple smile. Forehead creasing in confusion, he suddenly realized he'd been played. "You knew all along I would never agree to your original terms. You tricked me."
"Indeed, I did," she replied with a quiet laugh, moving to turn down the covers on their bed. "Come now, you agreed to sleep."
"You have been spending far too much time with John…" Irritated with himself for falling for such a simple trick, Sherlock removed his shirt and stripped down to his boxers before sliding into the bed. He rolled onto his side, his back facing Hermione in defiance. He would never admit to how good the bed felt or how tired he suddenly realized he was.
"Don't pout, Sherlock," Hermione teased, crawling in behind him and wrapping an arm around his waist. She kissed the back of his shoulder, lingering a bit longer than she ought to. He hummed in approval, but she knew he was far too tired to do anything more than sleep. Hell, she was too, but it felt good to be wanted. "You can fight with me in the morning about what we'll eat for breakfast, alright?"
"Yes. Fine."
He was already fading, and Hermione smiled as she willed the lights into darkness. Moriarty needed to be caught, but Sherlock would be useless against such a villain if he was exhausted to the point of recklessness. As sleep took them both, Hermione's last thought was of what it might be like to enjoy nights in 221B after the danger was destroyed.
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Feeling as if she'd just rolled over, Hermione was jostled awake by someone's hand on her shoulder. She knew it wasn't Sherlock because she could feel his warmth snuggled up against her back, his head nestled in the crook of her neck. Blinking, she tried to see in the darkness, not wanting to turn on the lights and wake her lover.
"John?" She questioned as his shape took form in the minimal street-light coming through the window. "What time is it?" Carefully, she extracted herself from Sherlock's grasp as she sat up and rubbed the remaining sleep from her tired eyes.
"Just after four," he replied almost apologetically. He took her hand to help her from the bed and then led her from the room, shutting the door behind them. "Come on. I know it probably took you ages to convince Sherlock to sleep. We can talk in the front room."
"What's happened? Why are you here so early?" She moved to sit in her chair, using her wand to light a fire in the fireplace. "We weren't expecting you until later this afternoon."
"Lestrade was trying to get in touch, and when he couldn't, asked me to come by again. I was surprised to find the flat dark and you two sleeping." As he explained, John rubbed at the back of his neck as if uncomfortable. When he looked at Hermione, he shrugged. "I figured you'd still be awake, or at least Sherlock would be."
"He was going to crash if I didn't trick him into at least half a night's sleep."
Silence fell again, and Hermione found herself watching the fire burn and flicker in the hearth. John was overly careful around her lately, a repercussion of the discussion he and Sherlock had she supposed. It certainly made things a bit awkward, but she didn't mind. John knew Sherlock first, so she would just have to bear with the uncomfortableness. Sighing heavily, she ran a hand through her sleep tousled hair and decided to break the silence.
"What did Lestrade want?"
"He simply wondered if Sherlock figured out any leads. Everyone seems to be stumped with this case." Meeting her gaze, John looked as if he wanted to say more but stopped himself. "Anyway," he did say after a while, "You'll learn that Lestrade relies pretty heavily on Sherlock for cases such as this. Sherlock enjoys the work so he doesn't typically mind, but it can be detrimental to his health and mental state."
"That's where you came in, right?" Hermione gave him a smile, curling her legs underneath her on the chair. "He told me bits and pieces of your relationship over the years, and I've read your blog, but I'm not sure I know the entire situation."
"In essence, Sherlock saved my life…" John cleared his throat and glanced away, his eyes shining. Hermione didn't say anything, not wanting to spoil the moment. When he was ready, John carried on. "I think I saved his as well, but he's a private type. Doesn't open up much. Actually...I was rather surprised by what he revealed to me two weeks ago."
"I think he was just as surprised as you were by his revelation," Hermione murmured, tipping her head thoughtfully. "To be honest, he's not particularly vocal about his affections. I've told him I loved him, but he's only ever responsed that he adores me or feels exceptionally close to me."
"He hasn't told you he loves you?"
"Not in those words, no," she admitted, frowning. "He's showed me in other ways, though." Feeling her cheeks warm, looked to the fire.
"He loves you."
Sighing, Hermione nodded and then looked back to John. "I know he does, but I worry, you know? The last relationship I had ended so horribly. It would be nice to have something solid to verify his true feelings for me."
"Maybe once this case is solved and all our lives return to normal, he'll be able to tell you how he really feels. The case could be mentally blocking him from what he really wants right now, which is you…"
"I think there are other things that he needs, too, before he can fully give his heart to me." Meeting John's eyes, she gave him a pointed look. She wondered if he realized just how much Sherlock loved him, and to what extent. Sure, Sherlock was probably experiencing some sort of emotional block in regards to their relationship, but there was something else there too.
John.
He was the one that got away. The one that was still there, day after day, reminding Sherlock of what he could have had. Hermione knew he cared for her, possibly loved her even, but with John still right there, just out of his grasp, he was technically still holding out hope for something he possibly couldn't even have. Whatever the outcome of this case, Hermione knew that there needed to be some sort of closure between Sherlock and John before he would be able to commit himself fully to her emotionally.
And oddly enough, she was okay with that.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the immensely stressful case, but Hermione felt rather relaxed about the Sherlock and John situation. Watching John as he sat across from her, she tried to deduce him like Sherlock would. The flickering of the firelight played across his features, making him appear much older than he probably was. Hermione knew he had Mary and a daughter at home, but why was he still here? He'd delivered his news, but he remained in 221B. Maybe that meant not everything was going well between he and Mary. Or maybe, after all this time, he felt more for Sherlock after all.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
There were far too many maybe's running through her mind. With a start, she realized that John was staring at her too, watching her observe him in the early morning hours. Her skin prickled as his eyes raked over her body and she remembered the way his hand felt on her leg when he'd touched her not so long ago. Was he attracted to her because she was with Sherlock, or just because he found her enticing? Hermione let out a shuddering breath, her body warming as she imagined what it might be like to be with not just Sherlock, but John as well.
"John…" She started to say, and he rose from his chair to kneel on the floor at her feet. They stared at each other for only Merlin knew how long, neither quite knowing what to do next.
Eventually, John lifted a tentative hand and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear before cupping her cheek. To anyone else, the move would appear innocent, just a friend fixing her hair, but Hermione knew it was more than that. That was why she jerked backward when she realized Sherlock was standing in the darkness of the kitchen, watching them intently.
"Sherlock," she gasped as John stumbled to his feet, having realized where she was looking. "You're awake." She stood too, lingering by her chair as John moved away, his eyes never leaving Sherlock as if afraid he would get angry that he'd touched her.
"We need to go to Hogsmeade," Sherlock stated, stepping into the front room fully dressed. "Immediately."
"Hogsmeade," she questioned, canting her head in confusion. "The wizarding village?"
"Yes," Sherlock told her, turning his back on the both of them to glare into the fireplace. "John you will accompany us as well." He said nothing further, instead grabbing his mobile from the mantel and flipping through the countless missed calls and messages from John and Lestrade.
"Uh, well...I suppose that would be all right," John mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I think there are a few of my belongings still in the upstairs bedroom I can pack."
Sherlock merely nodded his reply, turning to face Hermione. He addressed her, his voice clipped and his eyes dark. "I've packed a small bag for you and left it on the bed. We will only need to spend the one night. By the time you dress, the cabbie will be here to take us to the train station."
"Okay," she replied, a bit taken aback when he stormed past her to don his jacket and scarf. John shrugged his shoulders when she looked to him before he disappeared upstairs. With a sigh, Hermione resigned herself to the fact that Sherlock obviously read more into what he'd seen happen between her and John just moments ago. As she entered their room, she quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a warm jumper before grabbing the overnight bag sitting in the middle of the bed. She'd have to rectify the situation when they were alone, which probably wouldn't be until they arrived in Hogsmeade.
After being away from the wizarding community for so long, it would be strange immersing herself into that world again. That wasn't even taking into account the fact that she would have not one, but two Muggles with her. They'd be there such a short period of time to chase whatever lead Sherlock suddenly found couldn't wait until morning that it would wouldn't make much of a difference. She probably should worry a bit more about how the witches and wizards would react to their presence than the way John and Sherlock would react. She figured it would be fine though...
They would be able to survive one night in Hogsmeade...right?
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A/N: Normally, I don't do end notes, but I wanted to let you know that this is the end of part one of Nights in 221B. There will be a companion one-shot entitle One Night in Hogsmeade coming soon that will fall between parts one and two. Part two will be added to this and continue after their return from Hogsmeade. The pairing for the companion piece is Hermione/John/Sherlock. Not sure how long it will take me to get it done, but be on the lookout for it in the upcoming weeks! Much love, xxDustNight
