Hermione Granger knocks on the emerald green door with bated breath. A deep voice says from the other end, "Come in Ms Granger."

The door opens to a spacious room where the current Minister of Magic is sitting behind an impressive ebony desk. Hermione walks in, closing the door behind her. She makes no pretense and launches in on her objective, "Mr. Shacklebott, Muggle police found a wand at a crime scene."

Kingsley Shacklebott rises from his seat. He walks around his desk and points Hermione to sit down on the chair facing him. She takes the seat. He asks, "From the beginning please."

"I don't know much. Cho Chang's husband, Dudley Dursley found the body of a woman. He saw the police pocketing the wand as evidence."

Shacklebott rubs his chin. "We need admittance to this case." He looks at Hermione, "Was the killing curse used?"

"I don't know sir. I only know what Mr. Dursley said."

"I need an auror in on this."

Hermione rises from her seat, "Do you mind if I take this case? I mean I was an auror before I started working for you. I can do this!" She wished he would say yes. Her curiosity was clawing at her and it's been awhile for actual fieldwork.

Shacklebott smiled at Hermione. Still curious and still looking for an adventure. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Hermione exclaims a little too brightly. She remembers someone died and tried being serious again.

"Okay then, according to the Statue, I need you to contact a Muggle official."

Hermione frowned, "A Muggle official? But we deal with the Prime Minister only."

"I stopped dealing with the Prime Minister of Britain after I came to power. This person is far more influential than the Prime Minister."

"Who is this person?"

"People think he is the British Government himself!"

Sherlock picks up the slim wooden stick in his gloved hand. What is this? Not to be used as a killing weapon, definitely. It looked quite old. He takes out his magnifying glass again.

"So?" Lestrade asks.

"This is quite old. Twenty years or more. It has been used a great deal. It was most definitely kept in a jacket pocket or something. There are tiny fibers stuck to it," Sherlock says.

"And?"

"And?"

Lestrade sighs exasperatedly, "Can you tell me what it is?"

"No," Sherlock replies in a tiny voice.

"Awesome."

Just then Lestrade's phone rings. He takes it out and frowns. Blocked number. He knows only one person who would be calling him from a "blocked number".

"Hello?" Lestrade says.

"There will be a woman coming over at your office. Co-operate with her. She is an important official. She can help with this murder." And disconnect.

Lestrade sighs again. Sighing is a serious side-effect of dealing with the Holmes boys.

"That was Mycroft," Sherlock observes.

"Yes." Lestrade nods.

"Why would he…unless of course this case is not what it seemed."

"He said to wait for an official who can help-"

"And that would be me," a female voice says.

Everyone looks up.

Five minutes before

Mycroft Holmes. What kind of a name was that? Hermione wonders as she takes a handful of floo powder. She is using Shacklebott's fireplace as this fireplace and Mr. Holmes fireplace were connected.

Mycroft Holmes was sipping tea and plotting things when his fireplace came to life, engulfed in green flames. Ah, green flames, he thinks excitedly. He stands up and fixes his waistcoat and eagerly waits for the new arrival with a smile plastered on his face.

Hermione emerges from the flames and gapes. So that is Mycroft Holmes? Powerful person number one? He looked so…normal.

"Yes yes. Do not judge by the smile. Or face."

"How?" Hermione asks with her eyes as round as dinner plates.

"Ah a little quirk of mine. Now Miss-"

"Hermione Granger," she says silently musing that she would not officially be a 'Miss' for at least two more weeks.

"Now please tell how I can be of your assistance."

Hermione launched into her pre-prepared narrative. Mycroft listened. He reached for his phone and dialed a number.

"There will be a woman coming over at your office. Co-operate with her. She is an important official. She can help with this murder."

He disconnects and addresses Hermione, "There done. All you have to do is get down to Scotland Yard and ask for Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade."

"Thank you."

As she prepares to apparate near Scotland Yard, Mycroft says in a slightly humorous tone, "And if you find an annoying person named Sherlock Holmes on its premises, please do refute from cursing him."

"Okay," Hermione agrees. And with a crack she is gone.

Should he inform his brother or let him figure this out? He chuckles as he decides to go back to plotting things rather than text his annoying little brother. Maybe this puzzle will keep him away from Magnussen.

Sherlock Holmes takes a look at the new arrival. She has light brown curly hair tied in a bun with a few errant curls framing her face and she is quite short. She is pretty, as John would say. He talks out loud while closing in on her like a jaguar, "You work in a high position. You have two children. You are getting a divorce. And you must have been close to a fireplace before coming here. And also in a great hurry."

Hermione gaped at him. She had fathomed earlier that Sherlock Holmes might be Mycroft Holmes brother. Now she understood what "annoying" meant. But instead she found herself saying, "Just like your brother. How did you?"

Sherlock looked at her flushed face with a frown. Her caramel brown eyes were shining with excitement. He clears his throat, "Your clothes are expensive, you dress accordingly to your work environment, it also shows you hardly get out of your office. Also the expense declares you are not in want of money. You have two kids judging from your locket which must contain pictures. No one keeps those lockets empty on one side. At first I thought husband and child, but I notice the absence of ring on your left ring finger. But I see the enduring indentation of rings and also a vanishing tan line which indicates that you must be getting or gotten a divorce. And I know my ash," He exhales.

Hermione is in complete awe. Then someone sounding like her voice breathes, "Amazing."

No one, besides John, has called him amazing at his personal deductions. He becomes slightly taken aback by her response. She is still gaping at him with amusement in her eyes. She smiles a little and extends a hand towards this gorgeous, six feet tall, glasz eyed brilliant man, "You must be Sherlock Holmes. Your brother warned me about you. My name is Hermione Granger."

Sherlock extends his hand too. Her touch is warm. She says, "Though it might be a little insulting to be deduced like that. I don't mind. Like I can tell that you were in a hurry too, weren't you?"

It's Sherlock's turn to be a little shocked. "And why would you think that?" he inquired.

"You buttoned up all wrong," Hermione says pointing to his chest. He was wearing a black shirt which was tight enough for the buttons to pop out any moment. Hermione wondered how someone so pale and thin has shirts so tight. Not that it was bad or something…Hermione shakes her head. She is here to investigate, not ogle at chests.

Sherlock looks down and yes, she was right. He did not really notice. A smile creeps up on his face as he says, "Maybe it won't be so bad working with you."

"Ahem, if the mutual appreciation fan club is over," Lestrade speaks up, "I'd like to get on with this case."

Hermione now extends her hand towards Lestrade, "You must be DI Lestrade?"

"Yep," Lestrade says shaking hands.

John comes forward, "I am John Watson, Sherlock's friend and blogger."

Hermione shakes hands with him too. She does not know why but she instantly takes a liking to him. He seems nice enough. "Now can I see the body?"