It has been a month. They cannot find him. They never will. He has been running for sixteen years. He is an expert in hiding. He would like to go back to America and assume his other identity. Being Blaise Zabini reminded him too much of the life he had left behind. It reminded him of the people who betrayed him. People, who turned their back on him and his family. The bloody Malfoys were let free. Why? They were as much responsible as his family was. It was all Narcissa Malfoy's fault. And Draco is a coward just like his father. He really had enjoyed stabbing him.
He closes the door behind him as he decides to take a walk. He is now currently holed up in an abandoned mansion on The Bishop's Avenue. He smirks. Living in abandoned mansions has become a new thing for him. The first two years back at the Zabini abode in Paris and now here. He reminds himself to go bring back the cauldron. His supply of Polyjuice was dwindling. Lovely Pansy, who would do anything for him. Stupid bitch, he never loved her. He just needed free access to ingredients. Then she started to blackmail him. She was smarter than he had believed. How she got to the other secret, he will never know. But killing her was difficult. Nostalgia is an idiot.
Maybe killing Millicent was not required. But he knew Millicent had figured out he was alive. Pansy would never have any secrets with her best friend. And he had seen her talking to Granger and that Muggle. A Muggle in Leaky Cauldron, he shudders. Though, he was no ordinary Muggle. The Internet was a truly wonderful thing.
The reason why he had to fake his death seemed inconsequential now. But he had to. He was not going to Azkaban. He closes his eyes and leans against a wall as he reminisces. He was fighting this Ravenclaw boy in the Astronomy tower. While they were dodging curses, an idea had formed into his mind as he had realized the boy kind of looked like him. He had finally managed to stun his opponent. Then he had changed their attires. He had not forgotten to place his ring on the boy's fingers. The ring was his pride, but pride goes before a fall.
The rest had been easy. Pick him up and throw him down. Gravity and velocity had done the rest of the job. He had seen Draco crying over his body. He had seen Pansy fainting at the sight of his damaged body. He even went to his funeral! That was fun, he chuckles.
He decides to go back to his temporary residence. It looked like it might rain.
Greg Lestrade stared at the folder. This case is getting weirder and weirder still over the months. He had hoped Sherlock would solve it faster. He drives to 221B Baker Street. Sherlock needs to hear this new development.
Lestrade walks in Baker Street. John is updating his blog and Sherlock is nowhere to be seen. Lestrade coughs, "Where is Sherlock?"
John looks up from his computer and smiles, "Downstairs, with our new neighbor."
"What is he doing there? Terrorizing the poor man?"
"Man?" John guffaws, "It is a woman."
"Nope," Lestrade shakes his head.
"You could go downstairs and see for yourself."
Hermione is letting Sherlock read her favourite book, Hogwarts: A History. She was quite surprised when he had knocked on her door and asked, "Why is Hogwarts not on maps?"
Hermione had raised her eyebrows and decided instead of saying it, she rather have him read it. So she had dug out her copy from her overstuffed bookshelf and handed it to him. He had been reading it for an hour, occasionally throwing questions at her.
Sometimes Rose would answer back as she had already read it twice. She sits down beside Sherlock and both of them had their heads buried in the book. Hermione looks at the scene and smiles. She comes out of the kitchen with a cup of tea for Sherlock and a glass of juice for Rose. She places the tray on the coffee table when the bell rings.
She opens the door to find Lestrade gaping at her. Well, in his defense, he is truly speechless. He stammers, "I-I am looking for Sherlock?"
Hermione too stands there speechless. She ought to throw a party so everybody in Sherlock's life can get over the shock of her moving here. "Hello Detective Inspector Lestrade."
He nods, "Miss Granger."
"Come in please."
Lestrade walks in and the scene in front him shocks him more. Sherlock sitting Indian style on the sofa with a book and this little red haired girl leaning against him. Hermione speaks, "Sherlock?"
Sherlock raises his head. He frowns at Lestrade and closes the book. She says, "And that is Rose, my daughter."
Rose gets down from the sofa and smiles up at Lestrade. Sherlock stretches out his legs and says, "What?"
Lestrade says, "I found the bullet dealer."
Hermione tells Rose to go to her room and looks expectantly at Lestrade. Lestrade hesitates, he is not sure should he tell her.
Sherlock says, "She can stay. She is still helping me with this case."
"Okay," Lestrade says, he knows he would get a call from Mycroft surely if he does not, "Well after we traced the bullet to Miami, we encountered a problem in locating the dealer or dealers. The trail ran cold after Miami Dade Police Department failed to locate the person or persons responsible for putting the bullets in circulation in the first place.
"A Lt. Caine was willing to help us, so he looked into on this on his own. He finally managed to give us a name. But this person is a ghost. He operated alone."
Sherlock asks, "What is the name?"
"Sebastian Moran. British expat. Went to the States fifteen years ago. Caine could only find this much."
Hermione frowns. Then she looks at Sherlock who is standing there mirroring her expression. He looks back at her, maybe thinking the same thing, was this Sebastian Pansy's Sebastian?
Sherlock asks, "Where is this Sebastian now?
"That is the best part. He is in London. But he never checked into any hotel. We checked flight registers. He came over to London twice two years ago and he has been in London ever since twenty eighth August, two days before Dahlia died."
Sherlock gets an idea, "What about abandoned buildings? Especially mansions?"
Lestrade frowns, "Why?"
"Just do it Gavin. Check along The Bishop's Avenue."
Hermione feels as if Sherlock has already figured out something. But being his insufferable self he probably would not tell her. And did he just call Greg Gavin?
Lestrade ignores that bit and dials a number on his phone. He repeats what Sherlock said to him. Hermione feels excited. This mystery was giving her a headache.
The mansion's name is not known. The owners never even named it. He thought it would look amazing if renovated and restored. Maybe after all this blows away, he could purchase this place. He would name it simply 'Zabini' and put snake sculptures instead of the eroded peacocks that stood beside the iron gates.
He is sitting on the (once) grand staircase that winded up from the foyer to the top floors, waiting, when the main gate crashes and lights flood the room.
Lestrade is at the fifteenth house they are looking in when he gets a call through dispatch that Moran had been found. He rushes over just as a junior cop cuffs him and pushes him inside the patrol car. Lestrade dials Sherlock's number, "We got him!"
Sherlock receives Lestrade's call. Hermione turns to him, "They found Moran?"
"Yes," Sherlock says.
They are waiting in Lestrade's office. Hermione scrunches her face and asks, "How did you know where he would be?"
"Patience Hermione," he says and then steeples his fingers.
Hermione crosses her arms and leans against the desk. Sherlock is sitting in the chair. Her insides are burning with questions, but she knows right now talking to him will be talking to a wall.
"Do you have your wand?" he says all of a sudden.
Hermione startles, "Wh-yes, I do. Why?"
"I need you do the silencing spell you would do around me when Rose would talk too loud."
She blinks, "You knew I did that?"
"Yes. I noticed it twice. Thank you, by the way."
Hermione gives him a lopsided smile, "You do know how to say thank you."
Sherlock smirks at her. She smirks back. Suddenly a thought grips her. This is it today. He would not need her around anymore. Her smile drops. She starts cleaning her nails instead. He must not see how she feels.
He frowns at her. He cannot see her face anymore. Her head is dipped so low. Why is she doing that? Did he do something? He stands up and tries to reach out, but drops his hands. He does not have the right words.
Hermione takes a deep breath and looks up. He has such a confused look in his face that she laughs out loud, "You are so cute when you are confused!"
The nose crinkle returns and intensifies, "And here I thought I did something."
"You did not do anything. I-"
An officer knocks the door and pokes his head in, "Detective Lestrade is here. He is at the interrogation room."
They leave the office and start walking towards the interrogation room. Sherlock leans down and whispers "Do the spell when Lestrade allows us to go in."
"Okay," Hermione whispers wondering whatever would she need to do it for.
As if reading her mind, Sherlock murmurs, "You will see soon enough."
They enter the connecting room where the interrogation room is separated by a one-way glass. And the criminal sitting opposite—telling a tale of how he met Dahlia Delacour and how when she wanted to expose him to the rest of the world drove him to murder her—almost knocks Hermione off her feet.
"Sebastian Moran is Blaise Zabini?" Hermione says with her voice shaking.
"Yes." Sherlock affirms.
"You knew…how?"
"Think Hermione, think."
Hermione's mouth gapes open like a fish out of water. She closes her eyes and tries calming down. Okay, she can do this. She can totally do this. She takes a few deep breaths and goes over all the evidence they collected, stories they heard and things they saw. Finally, she gets it, "Oh."
Sherlock smiles down at her. It took her less than two minutes. She is brilliant.
"Come on, Lestrade is done." She hears Sherlock saying. She follows Sherlock into the interrogation room. He says, "Do it."
She takes out her wand and casts the silencing charm, so anybody else cannot hear what they have to say. They take a seat and face him.
Blaise a.k.a Sebastian grins at Hermione, "They can see this later you know."
"I will Imperio them."
"Always prepared."
"I am."
Blaise turns his attention to Sherlock, "So how'd you figure that Blaise Zabini and Sebastian Moran are the one and only?"
"You have an affinity for dilapidated mansions," Sherlock replied.
Blaise guffawed, "That is it?"
"Of course not. The biggest clue was left by Pansy herself. She kept talking to everyone about Sebastian, her new boyfriend. Then your cousin said to Hermione, Pansy was dating her ex. I know you told her to call you Sebastian because you knew it would be hard for her to keep quiet about you."
"Yes because Pansy was truly addicted to you. And you knew this. You took advantage of her affection to score potion ingredients," Hermione says, "Why did you kill her though?"
Blaise starts laughing hard. "Oh my God, you two are amazing at this! He was right, you really are smart." The last sentence is delivered to Sherlock.
Sherlock frowns, "Who?"
Blaise wipes a tear from the corner of his eyes, "Never you mind. Anyway, you asked me why I killed her. Little bitch wanted me all for herself and honestly my work with her was done. She threatened to expose me if I left her, and Merlin knows I don't want to go to Azkaban. Should have never asked for her help. If only I paid more attention in Potions class."
Hermione scowls, "Why did you hurt Draco and kill Millicent then?And try to kill me?"
Sherlock answers her instead, "He killed Millicent because he had seen us talking to her. And he wasn't sure if Pansy had told Millicent anything. And Draco was a personal score. He just wanted to hurt him. As for you, he knew you are smart enough and he knew you solve this and get to his secret."
Blaise laughs, "Right again!"
"That makes sense. You could have just used a killing curse on Malfoy." Hermione muses out loud.
"Granger still so brilliant," Blaise mocks.
After casting another Imperio on Lestrade and a few other officers, Sherlock and Hermione are back in Lestrade's office. Blaise is being taken to Wandsworth Prison. She is chewing her lips and Sherlock is silent again.
Suddenly she speaks up, "Didn't you feel he was hiding something?"
"Yes," Sherlock replies.
"It is almost like he wanted to be caught."
"Yes."
"Argh!" she flails her hands and runs them through her hair making it bushier still.
Lestrade enters his office and says, "Finally over."
But to Sherlock and Hermione, this just feels anti-climatic.