Author's Note: Yes! So I know it's been ages, but I am back! Well, for now. This update comes with news of the good and not so good variety. The good news, I've updated! The not so good news, I probably won't update this again until December after NaNoWriMo comes to a close. I've decided to work exclusively on Empire, my Loki/Hermione crossover for NaNo so everything else will be on hiatus on December. This included. However, if you haven't yet done so, you can pop over and read the one-shot, One Night in Hogsmeade that takes place between this chapter and the previous one.
While I do allude to some things from that one-shot, it does not affect the plot of this story overall. It's meant as a completely separate tale. This story will always be Hermione/Sherlock despite the implied Johnlock warning. Anyways, thanks again as always for the lovely feedback and support for this story. It never ceases to amaze me how much you love this tory. Until next time!
Major thank you to GaeilgeRua for beta reading! Thanks for taking the time out of your Sunday to beta read for me! Any additional mistakes you may find are my own. Much love, 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
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. *Sequel to Nights in Diagon Alley*
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Chapter Nine
The return to 221B Baker Street was much different than Hermione imagined it would be. The train ride from Hogsmeade had been well enough, given the circumstances of the situation. Sherlock and John were none the wiser to her trepidations, both lost in their own memories of their night spent in the little Wizarding town. As their cab pulled up to the front door she'd grown accustomed to, Hermione had to remember that they still had a case to solve and it wouldn't do well to dwell on the past.
Easier said than done, she almost muttered aloud as Sherlock opened the door and exited. He held his hand out for her and she accepted it, sliding from the vehicle with ease. John exited the other side, heading to the boot to gather their bags. Sherlock held tight to her hand as he paid the cabbie and then led the way back inside. It felt like it had been more than forty-eight hours since last they'd seen the simple flat. As if sensing her uneasiness, Sherlock didn't let go of her hand until they'd climbed the stairs and were standing in the middle of the front room.
"I need some time to gather my thoughts on the case before you force me to retire for the night," he told her as he moved to sit in his usual chair by the fireplace. He gave her one more fleeting look before settling in for what appeared to be a long night.
"Okay…" Swallowing, she tried to understand his sudden change in mood. Distantly, she heard John moving around in the back of the flat, probably putting their bag in the bedroom. When all was silent, she decided that they probably needed to discuss what happened before their trip since what happened in Hogsmeade probably overshadowed anything she'd said before. "Are we going to talk about what happened the other night?" She asked, sighing as she took a seat in the chair across from Sherlock.
"I need to concentrate right now. We can discuss your infatuation with John later." Sherlock muttered, never opening his eyes. He was preparing to go deep into his mind palace, and clearly she wasn't welcome.
"Are you jealous, Sherlock? Is that what's bothering you?" She swallowed, hating having this conversation. "Because you have no reason to be, okay? I love you, and only you. It's why I've left everything I know behind. I want to be with you without having to worry about-" She stopped as he held up a hand, eyes still close.
"While I normally appreciate your attempts at confirming your adoration for me, now is not the time for such trivial sentiments," Sherlock all but snapped, his eyes flickering open to focus on her. "Solving this case is of the utmost importance right now. For some reason I have blind spots in my memory from last night and it is hindering my ability to evaluate the data I collected in Hogsmeade. Now, if you will please busy yourself elsewhere, I need to visualize what information I have in order to calculate our next move."
As he shut his eyes once more, Hermione's mouth popped open in shock. Sherlock had never talked to her like that before. Her heart ached knowing she'd upset him. How many times had he warned her of his true nature when it came to solving cases? Too many. She knew he was simply frustrated by his inability to figure this one out, but it didn't make his remarks sting any less. Gathering what was left of her feelings, Hermione stood and made her way toward the back bedroom.
At some point, John had deposited their bags on the bed along with a note that said he'd call them later. She sighed again, remembering he had Mary and Rosie to get home to. Mary would be wondering where he'd disappeared to, even though she was sure he'd sent her text at some point before they reached Hogsmeade. Setting the note on the nightstand, Hermione began unpacking their bags and putting dirty clothes in the hamper.
It all felt so normal, but at the same time, something felt off. It was like the innocence between she and Sherlock was gone now, broken by an unsolved case. Was this what the rest of her life would be like living with him? Would he always throw her aside at the first sign of an interesting case? She loved him, far more than she ever loved Draco, but this was something she had to consider. Having left behind the life of being an officer for the Magical Law Enforcement department, she wasn't sure she was prepared to dive back into this sort of lifestyle.
Knowing Sherlock, there was no way he was going to give up his life and line of work. If what Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade had to say, it's what kept him off the heroin; the thrill of the chase proving to be a better fix than the high his drug of choice provided. She doubted that she would be enough to hold his attention like that of a perplexing case. After all, it was because he was chasing a criminal that he'd stumbled upon her at all. Without the work, he was nothing and who was she to try and steer him away from all that?
Having put away all their clothes and toiletries, Hermione settled herself on the edge of the bed and tried to think about what they could do next. Out in the front room, Sherlock was doing the same, but she had to help. This was just as much her case as his, Moriarty avenging the most dastardly wizard to have terrorized them all in decades. Despite not having a lick of magic himself, Moriarty somehow still managed to find those with magical abilities.
Frowning, Hermione plopped backwards and staried at the ceiling. How was he able to do that? Did he have a list? Had he managed to get his hands on a book about them somehow? For all she knew, Riddle had given him a predetermined 'hit list' before his demise. If that was the case, who all else was at risk? Harry, probably? Ron, maybe… Herself? This was steadily growing darker with every minute longer it took to find him.
Dennis Creevey was the most recent kill, and he'd been found right here in Muggle London. In fact, all the deaths were found in London or the surrounding areas. None were in the Wizarding sectors which led Hermione to believe that despite Sherlock's apparent ability to infiltrate her world, Moriarty could not. Sure, he'd obviously used that cave in Hogsmeade as a hideout, but there was no proof he'd been able to walk through the little town. No one knew who he was by sight, nor could they remember seeing anyone. It was all hearsay at this point.
Clearly, Moriarty was operating out of London which meant his main hideout was in the area. As an idea sparked in her mind, Hermione rolled aver and opened the drawer of the bedside table. Rifling around, she found a pen and a map of London that she saw Sherlock place there a few weeks ago. Uncapping the pen, she began drawing an X on all the locations of the murders. When she was finished, Hermione tried to figure out some sort of pattern. She drew a circle around the furthest locations and added lines connecting all the inner ones.
Nothing seemed to stick out in regards to a pattern, but it was helpful to finally see where everything was happening. Maybe Moriarty was doing this at random, after all. She would have to discuss this with Sherlock when he came out his mind palace, and wasn't so snippy with her. Feeling disappointment replace her hopefulness, Hermione set aside the map and pen and laid facedown on the mattress, feeling much more tired than she ought to at a time like this. Getting the idea that some tea might be helpful, she rolled over and made to get up from the bed.
As she did so, she could hear the phone ring downstairs in Mrs. Hudson's flat. Checking the clock, Hermione frowned. Who would be calling so late at night? It was well after midnight at this point, and Mrs. Hudson normally went to bed hours ago despite her normally boisterous tennant above. Standing, Hermione determined it was probably none of her business and quietly made her way to the kitchen. Her mind was still on the case, the map and murder victim locations making her worry about who would be next.
She'd just taken the kettle to the sink to fill when the phone began to ring downstairs again. She paused, frowning as she realized Mrs. Hudson hadn't answered the first call. This time, it seemed, she did seeing as the ringing stopped before it could go on and on. Sighing, Hermione continued to fill the kettle and then place it on the stove to boil. Stepping away, she peered into the front room to see how Sherlock was faring.
He was still in his mind palace, his eyelids flickering as he delved through his endless information in an attempt to figure out this case. As footsteps sounded on the staircase leading up to their flat, his face clouded, body tensing as he was disturbed from his thought process. Panic suddenly flared inside of Hermione and she grabbed hold of one of the knives on the counter. Securely holding the knife in hand, she stepped into the front room just as Sherlock's eyes flashed open. She met his stare, throat constricting with fear.
"Something's wrong," Sherlock intoned, lightly standing from his chair as if he hadn't been settled there for the better part of an hour. Moving to stand between Hermione and the door, he waited with bated breath as the person on the other side took hold of the handle and opened it. Mrs. Hudson was revealed, her face pale and hands shaking as she secured her dressing robe. "Who was on the phone?"
Mrs. Hudson glanced between Hermione and Sherlock before answering, her voice trembling with fear of her own. "That was John… He tried ringing both of you but you didn't answer. He said-"
"What's happened?" Hermione broke in, unable to keep quiet a moment longer. The suspense was killing her after having spent the past half hour trying to figure out Moriarty's next step.
"It's Mary. She's disappeared."
The knife fell from Hermione's hand with a clatter as her eyes slid shut. Her heart sank and bile rose in her throat. Moriarty had made his next move it seemed, and this time it was personal. Opening her eyes, she saw Sherlock give her a fleeting look before grabbing for his coat. She bent over and picked up the knife, not knowing what else to do. She was in shock, never having thought Mary would be a target.
"What else did he say?" Sherlock questioned, knotting his scarf around his throat and then grabbing for Hermione's coat. He walked it over to her and helped her shrug into it, removing the knife from her grasp as he did so.
"There was blood… In the bedroom. Rosie was asleep in her crib." Mrs. Hudson's voice was quiet but steady as she relayed the information.
"We must be off. Time is of the essence." Sherlock said nothing else, handing the knife over to Mrs. Hudson. Pausing in the doorway, he turned and looked to Hermione. "This is what we've been waiting for, a new lead in the case. Come, Hermione; there's no time to waste on trivial things like emotions. Push through. We must find John's wife before it's too late."
Fighting back her tears, Hermione nodded, knowing he was right. She hurried to his side, thankful when he took her hand and squeezed reassuringly despite not knowing what the rest of the night entailed. He made her no empty promises that everything was going to be alright, instead choosing to be there for moral support in this dark time. She was thankful for that, especially as he led her downstairs and into the night. John needed their help, and they would do their very best to find Mary and bring her home alive.
