John wakes up with a start.
What is that sound? He strains hard to hear. Oh, it is Sherlock playing. What time is it? He takes a look at the clock beside and frowns. It is five in the morning. John huffs and decides to go check on his friend.
"Did I wake you John?" Sherlock asks without turning around as he notes something down on his music sheet.
John realizes something with a start. Sherlock is composing. The only two times he has seen him composing was when Irene Adler faked her death and when he got married to Mary. And now he is composing again. At five in the morning.
"Ah, no. Just wondering if you are okay," John says.
"I am fine."
"Oh okay then," John says as he goes back upstairs. He is grinning ear to ear. He has a very good idea why Sherlock Holmes is composing.
Sherlock sees John going. He heaves a sigh and plops down on his chair. For the last month he had been composing this piece. He had not named it still. He does not know why he is up, at this hour, composing. He prefers the music to drown his thoughts. Especially the brand new thoughts he is thinking—something to do with brown hair, caramel eyes, soft skin and warm touch. "Argh," he mutters and picks up the violin again.
Harry Potter is jerked from his sleep at seven in the morning by a Ministry owl tapping on his window. He takes the note from the owl and reads. He sighs, no peace. They found a body at this popular bakery. Its owner was dead.
Hermione thinks she is dreaming. And in her dream some sort of music is playing that kind of resembles her ringtone. She wakes up and sees, it is no dream, her phone is really ringing. It is eight in the morning. She almost overslept! She squints at the screen, it is Ginny. She picks it up, "Hello?"
Ginny says, "Good morning! You won't believe what happened!"
"What?"
"Millicent Bulstrode, remember her? Part of Malfoy's posse?"
"Yeah," Hermione sits up straight, "I do."
"She was found dead this morning. The killing curse. Harry said."
"What!"
"I was wondering what is going on, first Malfoy gets attacked and now Millicent gets killed. Who is picking on the Slytherins, huh?"
"I don't know. Look I got to go."
"Oh alright. Bye then."
"Bye."
Hermione puts down her phone. She wears her dress robe and runs upstairs. She flings open the door and shouts, "Sherlock?"
"What?" Sherlock says. He is seated on the kitchen counter, drinking coffee. Hermione stops in her tracks. He looks so tired. She asks, "Sherlock, did you sleep last night?"
"No."
Hermione shakes her head at him, "Sherlock, you do know that sleep deprivation will kill you, right?"
"Yes. But you are not here to reprimand me."
"No I am not. Ginny just called me. She said Millicent is dead. Killing curse, Harry said."
"Harry?"
"Yeah, he is an Auror. Your equivalent to a police in our world."
"Oh. S-"
He stops as he hears John coming towards the kitchen. Hermione stands up to go when Sherlock grabs her wrist and completes his sentence, "You want to visit the crime scene?" He can feel the steadying throb of her pulse.
Hermione nods as she finds herself mesmerized by the myriad colours in his eyes. The icy blue mixed with the flashes of green and sometimes speckled with gold. Her trance is broken when John coughs at the entrance. Sherlock lets go of her wrist and Hermione backs away a little. John just smiles.
"Well good morning Miss Granger. Do you need something?" John asks pleasantly.
"Uh yes, I was wondering if you guys have sugar. I have run out of it."
"Sure take some," John starts opening drawers, "So you have a daughter I heard. Haven't see her around."
"She was with my ex-husband yesterday."
"Oh. Here you go." John passes the sugar.
Hermione gushes, "Thank you. See you later." She sighs as she leaves. She really wished she did not have to hide from John. He seemed like such a nice man.
John grins as she leaves, "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"You were holding her hand."
Sherlock is at a loss for words. He manages to say, "Uh, nothing. I don't remember why I grabbed her wrist."
"Yeah right," John smirks and starts whistling as he heads to the bathroom.
Sherlock feels extremely annoyed.
Millicent's apartment is dismal. Clean and almost clinical. And the absence of green surprised Hermione a little. Harry had given her the key and no more than ten minutes. She had let herself and Sherlock in. As soon as they had entered, he had taken out that magnifying glass and started doing what he is best at. Hermione stands back and decides to watch the show.
Sherlock starts with the foyer carpet. He collects some fiber of it. Then he moves to the writing desk. He shuffles some paper. Hermione reckons he found something important when he pockets a piece of paper. Then he walks up to her and asks, "How tall do you think Blaise is?"
Hermione frowns, "Umm I think six feet and an inch?"
"He was here. The shoe impression tells us that. Too long for a woman."
Her breathe gets caught in her throat, "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Plus I need to test this substance I found." He brings out his fiber sample.
"And what was on the paper?"
He glances at his watch, "Our ten minutes are almost up. We need to go Barts."
Hermione does an eye roll. She has learnt how to be patient with him.
Molly is deciding what to have for lunch when Sherlock enters her lab with this good looking woman with him.
"Molly I need to use the electron microscope and the mass spectrometer."
Molly gives him an exasperated look. She turns towards the stranger, "Hi, I am Molly Hooper. You are?"
Hermione smiles, "I am Hermione Granger."
"Very nice, now can we get to work?" Sherlock asks impatiently.
"Oh alright, I just wanted to meet your um-"
"Friend."
"Colleague."
Sherlock and Hermione say simultaneously. Both are surprised by what they hear. Hermione feels her heart skip a beat (Friend!). Sherlock feels a bubble bursting somewhere (Colleague?).
Molly shakes her head and passes Sherlock the items he requires. She gives them one last look as she leaves for lunch. She muses, too bad Sherlock is not interested, those two would have made a beautiful couple.
Hermione sits silently watching Sherlock work. He is staring down the microscope. Next he puts the sample in a tube and turns on the mass spectrometer. He waits patiently for the result. A ping signals him to look at the screen and say, "Lacewing fly? Crushed lacewing fly? What was the man doing with lacewing flies?"
Hermione says sharply, "What did you say? Lacewing?"
"Yes. Why?"
"They are used in potion-making."
"That was the substance under Blaise's shoes."
"Why would he have lacewing extracts under his shoes?"
Sherlock brings out the paper he had taken from Millicent's flat and asks, "Pansy had a potion shop in Paris."
Hermione snatches the paper from his hands. "I always wanted to visit Paris."