So it was decided Hermione and Rose would live in John's bedroom for now as he was not coming back in a month. Hermione would have enough time to look for other accommodation by then.

In spite of what her mother feels, Rose decides to like this funny man with the funny name. She wanders into the kitchen which is a makeshift lab really and starts poking around. Sherlock warily eyes her from his microscope. He is not that disturbed by kids. He thinks they are all right. Little Archie was not that difficult to be around with.

"What is this?" Rose asks picking up a jar filled with a gooey brownish red substance in it.

"Decomposing blood," Sherlock comments, sharply watching her response.

Rose makes a disgusted face, but says anyway, "What is decomposing?"

Ah. Sherlock smiles, "Decomposing takes place after people are dead."

"Oh. So this is a person?" Rose asks once again lifting the jar.

"Yes."

"Cool." As Rose tries putting the jar back on the counter, her hand brushes a test tube stand. It falls to the floor.

Sherlock rises and frowns at the little girl. Rose looks up at him, all scared. He opens his mouth to reprimand her but does not say anything. He can always replace the test tubes.

The sound of glass shattering on the floor brings Hermione down from their room. She takes one look at the scene and puts on her 'mommy-is-mad' face. Sherlock notices it and puts up his hand, "No it is okay. I can get new test tubes."

She turns to him, "No it is not. I am so sorry. Here let me help."

And the Sherlock looks on as she takes the wand out her jeans and says, "Repairo" and the shattered glass tubes become whole again and levitates back to its prior position on the counter. He is totally speechless.

Hermione smiles as she puts back her wand inside her pocket. Rendering the detective speechless was becoming her favourite thing faster than you can spell his name. He finally speaks, "Is there anything magic can't do?"

She tilts her head and thinks a bit. Then she remembers the Resurrection Stone and softly says, "Well it can't bring back people from the dead."

Sherlock does not say anything. He senses there must be a story behind that sad wistful expression on her face.

Hermione grins, "You aren't accustomed to thank people are you?"

Sherlock tries to say something but Hermione cuts him off, "It is okay. I was just kidding. I am the grateful one here." She pops her knuckles and says, "Well I was wondering if we could go back to my apartment to-"

"To look for clues?" Sherlock interjects.

"Well yes, I can't take Rose along."

"You can leave her with Mrs. Hudson."

"Who is Mrs. Hudson?" Rose asks.

"Your landlady? She doesn't know I am here, does she?" Hermione asks.

Sherlock shakes his head. Hermione flails her hands, "Sherlock she requires to know!"

"Oh," Sherlock still failing to understand.

Hermione calls Rose and signals Sherlock to show her where Mrs. Hudson lives. He takes her. He knocks on Mrs. Hudson door. She opens at the second knock.

"Oh Sherlock! Do you-" she says and then notices the two strangers standing behind her eccentric tenant. She raises her eyebrows a little as she sees the rather attractive brunette and the cute little red-haired girl.

Sherlock says, "This is Miss Hermione Granger and that is her daughter Rose Weasley."

"Oh hello dears," Mrs. Hudson smiles, "Come in. I just put a kettle on!"

She ushers the three of them in her flat. Hermione is quite reassured as she looks around the landlady's flat. It is homey and cheerful. Sherlock says, all prepared with his lie, "Miss Granger here is my client. Somebody tried attacking her and her daughter this morning. So she will be staying with me till the case is solved."

Hermione dons her most sheepish face and smiles at Mrs. Hudson, who smiles back at her and says, "Oh that's just awful! How can I help dear?"

Hermione says, "Well, Mr. Holmes wants to go over to my place to look for clues and I can't take my daughter with me. So I was wondering-"

"Oh no problem," she extends her hand towards Rose who takes it smilingly. She has decided to like this nice old woman who slightly reminds her of grandma Weasley. Rose looks up at her mother and silently conveys that she is alright with this.

Hermione gets her daughter's message. Sherlock exits and goes upstairs. She is leans down to hug her daughter. Rose throws her hands around her mother's neck and whispers, "I will be okay mommy."

"I know honey," her voice drops another octave as she continues, "Just remember no magic okay?" Rose almost levitated a cookie jar last week, unintentionally, of course.

Rose nods and eyes Sherlock who has come back. She leaves her mother and walks up to him. She slips her small hand in his larger ones and says, "Take care of mommy for me, promise please?"

Sherlock for a moment does not know what to say. He does not do sentiments. Or promises. He just nods his head once. That seemed to satisfy her. Rose skipped back to Mrs. Hudson's side.

Hermione smiles at this exchange while Mrs. Hudson eyes gleam with a certain hidden knowledge which comes with age and wisdom. She is no consulting detective but she can always tell.

"Here," Sherlock pushes something in Hermione's hand as they stand at the entrance to 221B. She looks down and giggles softly. It is her jacket. She had forgotten, but he had not. She wants to say thank you but he is already on the road trying to hail a cab. What an odd person.

They get a cab and the five minute journey is silent. Like the last time, each is lost in their own thoughts. Except for this time, they are both thinking the same thing. Who attacked them and why?

As they reach their destination, they get a glimpse of her apartment building. The entire wing was burned. Hermione steps down from her cab and walks towards her still smoking apartment complex. Her flat was completely destroyed. The fire had spread out to the flats besides her, no major casualties so far as by then the intensity of the inferno had died down.

The firemen were still there. Her landlord was talking to some other tenants. He spots Hermione and shouts out her name. Hermione turns towards the shout. Sherlock hears it too. She walks up to her landlord, who looks immensely relieved, and says, "Oh thank God you weren't there! Where were you?"

Hermione opens her mouth, but Sherlock comes forward and slips his hand through hers. The sudden contact surprises her. She whips her head to stare at him. He says, "She was with me."

The landlord grins, "Your boyfriend?"

Hermione stammers, "Uh y-yeah." The internal screaming reaches the banshee level. He is holding her hand! And he now is rubbing his thumb in circles to behave like the pacifying boyfriend he is pretending to be. Oh Merlin, Hermione cries silently. This IS not the right time to think about the strange shivers she is getting all of a sudden.

The landlord continues, "The firemen are at your place, trying to figure out the fire source."

"Oh," Hermione says knowing well enough, they will never find the source.

"You have a place to stay, right?" he places his hand on her Hermione's shoulders

Sherlock speaks on her behalf in a low voice as he narrowly eyes the hand on her shoulder, "She is staying with me."

"Okay," he pulls back his hand. Hermione smiles apologetically. She rubs her face and says, "I will wait in Bean It Up then. If anyone asks for me, call me." She says to him and tugs on Sherlock's hand, "Come on."

They start walking towards the café, hand in hand. He finally says, "The landlord."

"Yeah, he's a harmless flirt, nothing more."

"Hmm."

"They will never find the source of the fire," Hermione says softly, smartly ignoring the tone of his voice.

"Why not?"

"The man used a very dark fire curse. It is called Fiendfyre. It is impossible to stop it, no counter curses work. The last time I saw it…" Hermione stops.

Curiosity rears its head at him, "The last time?"

"I have had a dangerous life Sherlock."

"I'd like to know."

They were at the café entrance now. Hermione takes back her hand and pushes the door using both of her hands, "That's why you let me stay, didn't you? So you could know? Because not knowing is killing you."

Sherlock smiles again at her correct deduction. They enter the shop. The morning crowd was gone, leaving only a few loiterers around. She guides him to a seat at the back. He understands, she has more things to say, hence the privacy.

They sit down as Hermione asks, "Am I right?"

Sherlock says, "Yes. You are."

"I won't complain. I do need a roof over my head. So thank Merlin for your curiosity masked by your generosity." Hermione grins.

Sherlock finds himself grinning back. And this surprises him. He is not the grinning kind. But her honesty and brusque behavior was really refreshing. He places his elbows on the table and leans in, "So you were saying?"

"You have enemies right?"

"Yes," Jim Moriarty's dead eyes flash in his head.

"We had one too."

"We?"

"My best friend, Harry Potter, my soon-to-be-ex-husband, Ron Weasley and yours truly had to defeat the biggest threat to the wizarding community. His name was Voldemort and he was pure evil. It reads like a novel, my teenage life. Running and hiding from villains. Fighting and bleeding. Losing and finally winning." Hermione stops as a lump forms in her throat as she remembers all the losses they had to suffer. All the lives lost.

Sherlock watches her carefully. He notices the melancholy in her eyes. He now understood why she was enjoying this case so much. If her teenage life was filled with adventure, it was only normal she would look for the thrill of the chase again. And he knew that thrill was the best high ever. They were almost the same. Loss, pain, heartbreak, defeats—they have both seen it, felt it and refused to be beaten down by it. He understands. Unconsciously his hand reaches out and covers her small fist.

Hermione is jerked from her reminiscence as she feels a warm and calloused touch on her fist. She turns to find Sherlock's hand on hers. She blinks at him. She sees a comprehension dawning in his ever colour-changing eyes. He understands. How…wait the two years he was 'dead'. He was running and hiding and counting his losses too, wasn't he?

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but gets interrupted when the waitress saunters towards them and says, "Order?"

The moment is lost and Sherlock realizes his hand was on hers. When did that happen? He frowns. He says gruffly, "Black coffee, two sugars."

Hermione sits up straight and clears her throat (and mind), "One latte. No sugar and any muffin of your choice."

The waitress smiles as she jots down their order. As she walks away she thinks, such a beautiful couple.

Draco Malfoy was getting late. As he apparated in the alley beside his office on Diagon Alley, he thinks he saw a shadow creep up on him. He turns around. His eyes cannot believe what he sees. Before he can utter a word, the shadow raises his hand and takes out something metallic and plunges it in his stomach.

The shadow sees as Draco's face gets carved into a mask of shock and fear. The shadow smiles as he sees him fall to the ground, the blood slowly seeping out of his expensive shirt. The shadows apparates with a single thought, yeah he won't be happy but Draco Malfoy was a personal score he had to settle.

What he does not get to see is the woman who apparates their soon after and what he does not get to hear is her blood-curdling scream.

A/N: Hello to all the lovely people who are reading this! A big thank you to all you awesome people! And a shout out to you, lavanyalabelle! I like it that you like my Hermione/Sherlock pairing! Because I love that idea!