Author's Note: I'm going to keep this short… Thank you for reading! I'm thankful for the wonderful feedback this always gets. I don't want to prattle on too much because after you read this, you're going to want more! So go on and read, my loves! I'm going to start working on the next chapter!
Thank you to GaeilgeRua for beta reading! You're seriously amazing! 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 Thirteen
The next night, Hermione stood on the sidewalk outside of 221B. Alone. It was against most of her friends' wishes, of course, but she agreed with Sherlock. There was no other way to draw Moriarty out of hiding and into the open unless they played their best hand. Their best hand being her, the only Muggleborn witch willing and with the skills to bring the bastard down.
Sighing, Hermione lifted her gaze and turned ever so slightly so she could peer back at the brightly lit windows of Sherlock's flat. Her lover was inside, probably pacing or sitting stoically in his chair as he waited for her signal. She was supposed to return to the Leaky Cauldron, or rather, the scene of the crime. Where Mary was murdered. Flinching, Hermione turned away from the building and tried to remember the plan.
She was to return to Diagon Alley, arriving just after Harry and Draco "cleared the scene". She was supposed to make it appear as if she was trying to find the two, hopefully enticing Moriarty to approach her obviously lonely form. Meanwhile, Harry and Draco would be stationed in the upstairs of one of the surrounding buildings, hidden from view and ready to capture Moriarty when he inevitably showed to engage with her.
At the same time, Sherlock would be on his way back to retrieve her so that she wasn't "alone". If all went according to plan, Hermione would never be in any true harm and they would have Moriarty in their custody before the morning. If things did take a turn, then at least Harry and Draco would get to her before she could be properly abducted. Shivering, Hermione decided that she'd pretended to wait for a cab long enough and began her trek through the city in the darkness. Behind her, 221B waited patiently for her safe return.
As Hermione wandered the streets of London, she thought of what brought her to this point. Had Sherlock never toppled over that wall into Diagon Alley she probably would not be working this case. She quite possibly would be standing in that same alley smoking her final cigarette of the night and getting ready to close up the shop before going home. She hoped that the murders wouldn't have taken the turn they did, but there was always that chance. If Sherlock was never part of the picture, Draco and Harry probably wouldn't have asked for her help.
It was a lot of what if's and maybe's. In reality, Hermione knew in her heart that if Muggleborns were being hunted, she would offer her help if need be. Moriarty wasn't meant to exist in her world. He was born a wizard and raised without knowing of magic. Sure, he was told of its existence later in life, but he probably would have lived a normal life if Tom Riddle hadn't corrupted him. Frowning, Hermione wondered if there were other witches and wizards out there that had no idea of their magical capabilities.
That was something to consider looking into after this mess was over and their worlds were safe once again. Pulling her jacket tighter around her shivering form, Hermione decided to bring it up to Sherlock. He may be interested in researching the topic with her. She could easily see them traveling the country, or world, looking for those with magic in their soul and allowing them to see how special they truly were. It was this thought that caused Hermione to pause at the corner two blocks from the Leaky Cauldron.
Sherlock was able to get into Diagon Alley without knowing anything of magic. He and Moriarty also were drawn toward one another a multitude of times now. Was it possible Sherlock had magic within him? Magic that, until recently, he had no idea existed. A bit of excitement went through Hermione at the possibility. Perhaps there was a way to test the theory… A way to trigger the inner magic and bring it forward. Laughing at her wayward thoughts, Hermione shook her head and crossed the road not wanting to dawdle.
There was no reason to get her hopes up at the moment. She was on a mission-her very first in quite some time. If she didn't clear her mind, that was when the mistakes would happen. As she approached the corner where they'd all met the night before, Hermione further prepared herself for their plan to unfold. Slowing her steps, she made it appear as if she wasn't in a hurry, and carefully glanced around as if worried she'd been followed. It wasn't all that hard to pretend that was the case. Moriarty very well could be lurking in the shadows and it's what they were hoping for in order for the plan to work.
She withheld her sigh of relief at seeing the crime scene vacant of Mary's bloodied body. That was a sight that would forever be seared into her mind, and probably everyone else's as well. Just as planned, Hermione faltered at finding no one else in front of the Leaky Cauldron's obviously closed storefront. She also made a show of looking around as if wondering where Harry and Draco had disappeared to. With bated breath she prayed they were hiding in the building behind her, waiting to help her if this went wrong.
A second later, she was shoving her hand into the pocket of her jacket to withdraw her mobile. Quickly, she swiped it to life and dialed Sherlock. This was his signal; her call would let him know that it she was where she was meant to be and that things were in motion. She waited with bated breath for him to answer, her eyes scanning the area
"Hello?" his deep voice answered her call on the fifth ring. It was both a relief and a nerve wracking experience to hear him right now.
"Sherlock?" she began, turning in a slow circle to look behind her. "Have Harry and Draco returned to the flat?"
"No…" he trailed off. "I thought you were meeting them at the crime scene?"
"I was but they're not here. Everything has been cleaned up," she explained, biting her lip. "It's just me."
"You're alone?" He allowed a tinge of worry into his voice and Hermione wasn't sure if that was fake or not.
"Yes, Sherlock," she answered, once more glancing around. "Something isn't right. They were supposed to be here."
"Perhaps they returned to the Ministry or Molly called them with news," Sherlock supplied.
"I don't know," she said. Taking a deep breath, she sighed, watching as her breath fogged up in front of her. "I'm coming home. I don't want to wait here for them and I can't get into Diagon Alley with the Leaky Cauldron closed from the crime scene."
"Absolutely not," Sherlock said sternly. "I didn't like the idea of you wondering there on your own to begin with."
"Well, what do you suppose I do?"
"Wait there for me. I will come to you and we'll continue the search for Moriarty on our own." Sherlock waited a moment for her to pretend to contemplate this scenario before speaking again. When he did, she could tell he was trying very hard to keep the worry from his voice. "Do you understand?"
She nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Yes, alright. I'll wait here, but can you hurry? I have a bad feeling about this and I don't want to be here longer than absolutely necessary."
"I will do my best," he murmured, his voice full of warmth and reassurance. "Harry and Draco may yet return before I arrive."
"They might," she admitted, glancing around. She had the worst feeling that she was being watched, and not by Draco and Harry alone. This was what they wanted, but it didn't make it reassuring. Neither said anything for a second, and she listened as Sherlock moved about his flat, probably in search of his jacket.
Their conversation had gone just as they'd rehearsed, but she was about to go off script. She couldn't risk not telling him one more time how she truly felt, knowing that one or both of them might not make it out of this alive. Swallowing back her fear for the moment, decided to keep her words simple and to the point.
"Sherlock?" she said, closing her eyes for the briefest second as she felt her heartbeat quicken with fear.
"Yes?" His voice was quiet, laced with worry and probably anticipation of what she was about to say next. She could hear him putting on his long coat as he stomped down the stairs on his way to the front door.
"I love you," she told him, opening her eyes and staring out across the deserted street. Her hand held her mobile tightly, so much so that her knuckles were white with the grip.
On the other side of the line, there was a sigh, but not in annoyance. "I'll be there as soon as possible. Do not move." And then the line went dead, leaving her entirely alone standing on that street. It didn't matter that he was probably running as fast as he could through the streets to get to her, she was alone and that terrified her beyond belief.
But, this was it: the plan they so carefully calculated. Everything was in motion, and it would either work or, it wouldn't. After this ended, and Moriarty was captured, she wanted nothing more than to live a simple life with Sherlock. She couldn't do this again. Missions were far too much for her post-war issues. Sliding her mobile back into the pocket of her jacket, her finger tips briefly brushed against her wand. She didn't dare draw it, however. Later, though, she would wish she had. Hearing footsteps behind her, Hermione tensed, but before she could turn around, there was a stabbing pain in the side of her neck.
Then, everything went black.
