Not A Nanny
e. elusive's prompt: I would love a continuation of chapter 44 with baby Harry growing up with John and Sherlock and perhaps with Snape involved somehow.
0o0o0
"It's going to keep happening, you know." Sherlock Holmes says in greeting to John, and he's not talking about the mess that Harry had made of the living room. A toy set of musical interments and other curious children's toys that Sherlock had had shipped here from around the world – not that the flat is any more or less dirty then it's ever been. He's talking about what happened, what he's avoided talking about until now – taking a toddler to a crime scene, because he's found the list of nursery's John has been looking into.
It had only been a matter of time, John knew.
"No, Sherlock, it's not. Not ever again. Do you understand?" In this John Watson is firm, he won't have Lily's baby knowing people kill people before he's finished teething. Sherlock had handed Harry off to Lestrade, and that had distracted the toddler enough that he hadn't looked down to see what Sherlock was doing, to notice a dead man's body and Sherlock's study of it.
That wouldn't be the case all the time, Sherlock had gotten lucky – but luck ran out – and John didn't want to have to explain what death and dying and dead meant, because he wouldn't leave that to Sherlock. It was an enough of a mess already. Harry was fussy and kicking and yelling and acting out, and John knew why as well as Sherlock did. It was them.
"Do you really think I had a choice? I can't help who I am John – and neither can you – we can't hide who we are from him, nor should we. What was I to do with him, really? Sit him down in front of the telly and tell him to stay put – Papa's got to go to work?" Sherlock looks at the black TV screen as he speaks, and John doesn't have to look to know he's sneering at it.
"You could have told Lestrade no." John snarls back. His grip on his tea cup is tight and white knuckled, he's never been so tempted to smash it to bits. Instead, he sips and if his hands shake, Sherlock says not a word about noticing it.
"He hung up on me!" Sherlock says instead, softly. He knows how close John is to breaking their partnership off, taking Harry so far away that Sherlock will never catch up with them. If anyone on Earth can do that, it's John Watson, because he is what he is, and magic and wand waving and spells are only a small part of it. A small part of Sherlock Holmes thinks that John and Harry would both be better off without him, would let them run off, and wouldn't chase them as it broke his heart.
"So call him back! Merlin, Sherlock, you can't just drag a toddler anywhere you want to go!" John stands, spilling tea and paying no mind to it as he paces back and forth, as if Sherlock's got him caged here.
"John, please, just… please, sit down and - solve this with me, alright? I know I made a mistake, but wouldn't you rather he be with me and safe than…than with strangers?" Sherlock's legs were tucked to his middle, his arms wrapped about them and his head cradled atop them, John hadn't noticed, but he stops and stares at the sight. Sherlock is vulnerable, he realizes, is hurting, and he hadn't let John see until now. John sighs and sits down beside Sherlock.
"Of course I want him safe Sherlock, but you're not exactly the safest person. Neither of us is." It's as much rueful as truthful, and John tries to smile past the pain of admitting it.
"No nursery's John, a babysitter would suffice. He should stay here, yes, but I don't want him to be passed from stranger to stranger he should have…stability." John's never really asked about how Sherlock was raised, but what he says is a shadow that had to have come from the past.
"So, a babysitter – are you and Mycroft having any luck at finding one?" John sees Sherlock shake his head and sighs.
"Not a one?" John frowns, as he sees offers in the paper, and ads, surely in all of London is someone the Holmes brothers would find suitable.
"Everyone has something to hide, parking tickets, punctuality problems, bad grades, family instability, possible personality problems." John snorts, for it sort of sounds like…
"You're really taking this seriously aren't you?" Sherlock frowns at him, as if doubting John's sanity. It's about time, what with John's following him and Sherlock being bad for anyone's health, but that's beside the point.
"Of course, if we are going to trust someone to him, it should be the best of the best." John can't help but roll his eyes.
"Sherlock, no one is perfect like that, we should just find someone nice and good with children." Sherlock raises an eyebrow, and John just knows that isn't enough for him. It never will be. He feels like laughing, because of course Sherlock would find every fault in others and overlook his own. Well, not overlook, because Sherlock was aware of everything, but surely ignore.
"They all claim to be, and who's to say if we are away if they are right or not? Mycroft's offered to bug them beforehand – and have a few hidden cameras here, but what could we do if something happened and we were too far away to get here in time to…to…" Sherlock looks back to the TV, and John understands all to well why he won't finish. Sherlock's seen the worst in people, their crimes, their causes, their results, and he can all too easily imagine crime after crime happening in his own home, to Harry.
John reaches out to Sherlock's shoulder and squeezes. He stands and starts getting ready to go to work, but his pauses before the door.
"Alright then, we'll figure something else out." John thinks of the people he trusts with his life, has trusted with his life – and he realizes there really are only two, Sherlock Holmes and Severus Snape. John Watson laughs, and goes to see his oldest friend.
Sherlock rolls his eyes, knowing that he's gotten more used to John's Apparation and Disapparition than the usual way of walking.
0o0o0
"You want me to what?" Severus Snape's dark eyes are wide in disbelief. John just smiles calmly back, full of confidence that his plan will work – if Severus only gives it half a chance. He also has to bring it up with Sherlock – and introduce Harry to Severus – and Severus to Sherlock - to see what each of them makes of each other, but he's taking it one step at a time.
"Watch him, take care of him – you helped to save him after all, surely you can look after him once in a while as well." Severus coughs as if he might be strangling. He runs his hands through his greasy hair, and his eyes flick about in his chambers at Hogwarts – there isn't much here, not like at Spinner's End.
"John, you might have noticed, I'm not very good with children…" Severus tapped his fingers on his chair, looking about as if searching for a way to escape, or an excuse to get away.
"You're teaching them at Hogwarts right now. So that's not a great argument there." John feels it's his duty to point out. The look Severus gives him doesn't thank him for it.
"Yes, and I'm under Dumbledore's eyes everywhere here – how am I ever to get away and help you to…watch the spawn?" Severus doesn't quite flinch from the stare John levels at him.
"Harry James Potter is not James Potter, he is Lily's son, and you have your vow to keep, let's not forget." Severus hisses, and stands from his seat, looking to the flickering flames as green as Lily's eyes had been.
"At least…at least meet the boy Severus." John knows that Severus is a good man, even if Severus doesn't believe it of himself. Dark Mark be damned, it didn't change who Severus had been and still was – if only he'd see what John did. For a long time Severus simply stared at the fire, silent and unmoving.
"Alright…." It was so soft it was a whisper.
"What?" John couldn't be sure he had heard that it wasn't wishful thinking.
"I said, alright, I'll do it, but I won't be a Professor here at Hogwarts at the same time. I'll tell Albus I quit it. Do you know, I don't think he's realized Harry Potter isn't under the blood protection wards this whole time? How…reckless, incompetent too." Severus so rarely got the overhand on Albus Dumbledore that John knew he'd relish this chance to change things. John found he didn't begrudge Severus that, instead he passed Severus a business card that Sherlock had had made up but never really passed out, it had his number and address and email on it, and Severus would figure it out.
"We'll be expecting to see you soon, then." Severus nods and says nothing more as he watches John go by Floo.
0o0o0
It's five AM and someone is ringing the door bell and John Watson just might murder the inconsiderate moron – doesn't he – or she? – realize how little sleep a toddler thinks he needs? How long it took to convince Harry otherwise, and that it was okay to sleep because the boogeyman wouldn't make John and Sherlock argue again. Merlin the things Harry came up with.
John's jolted awake and struggling to put on some pants over his boxers, when Sherlock arrives from upstairs with nothing but a robe on.
"Who is it?" Sherlock's wide eyes match well with wild hair. Harry starts to shriek for Papa and Dada having found that he was alone in his room. He has a phobia of being alone, they'd found. John groans at hearing the thundering of three year old feet hurdling toward them from upstairs and across from Sherlock's rooms.
"I don't know but you may have to help me hide the body." John catches the toddler that hurls himself down the stairs and into his legs. Sherlock smiles and says not a word about the plotting of murder. Anderson wouldn't approve of John "encouraging" Sherlock to cross from pet criminal catcher to criminal master mind – but then, Anderson would never know that John had shot a man who'd been trying to tempt Sherlock into suicide.
"Up, up, Dada!" John Watson can't help but obey, settling Harry onto his hip and as Sherlock goes to get the door he does to where his cane hangs at the top of the stairway. He watches from up the stairs, he'd never told Sherlock why he'd kept his cane with him when he didn't need it, but any wizard or witch would understand that John had his wand within it.
"What's all this then?" Mrs. Hudson asks as she opens her door, bat in hand, Sherlock glances to it, amused, but only shakes his head as he passes.
"We are about to find out." Sherlock says as he opens the door, and frowns at what he sees – unkempt oily hair, a hooked nose, and pitch black eyes glare back at him. The man is wearing robes on the street, and Sherlock knows that's indecent – and not at all normal in London.
"Well, I'm here." The man states, as if he's expected. Sherlock doesn't open the door wider to let him in, only stands in the way and raises his eyebrows.
"And who are you?" This mans smile is sly and snake like. A part of Sherlock likes him, can't help to be intrigued by him.
"Severus Snape, John should be expecting me, though you must be Sherlock Holmes. Interesting…." Severus looks Sherlock down to his bare feet and up to his untamed black hair. What he thinks of what he sees, Sherlock can't judge. For once, Sherlock ignores that – he is sure he'll figure Snape out, that he has time to do so, and while he doesn't usually place worth in base instinct, just this once he'll make an exception for his…feeling.
"John, do you know this man?" Sherlock isn't in the habit of yelling, but he makes an exception when strange men visit before dawn has properly risen. He doesn't care if he wakes the whole street doing it; after all, he's been woken up.
"Yes, yes, do let him in Sherlock; he'll be watching Harry for us from now on." To Sherlock's surprised look, narrowed and measuring, Severus only smiles blandly back. Sherlock isn't fooled; he looks as bland as a snake waiting to bite.
"Will he be living here too?" Mrs. Hudson asks, taking it all in stride as if it's an ordinary thing, only to be expected along with their usual strangeness.
"221C Baker Street will suffice." Severus agrees, at once, and Sherlock lets him by, thinking that the damp apartment will suit him. He isn't sure he likes the idea of this man taking care of anyone – least of all Harry, and less likes the robes and long sleeves. He must be hiding something – and if John knows him, he isn't the normal sort of person, likely he can do extraordinary things. It's enough to make Sherlock feel envious after all, how many; can there be of wizards and witches?
"I take it you've already moved in?" John asks, and to that Severus only nods in agreement. Mrs. Hudson steps forward, and Severus pauses to look down at her quite seriously.
"Well, alright, make yourself at home, I suppose, though you must pay rent." Severus's lips curl in something like a sneer. Mrs. Hudson isn't the least deterred, and Sherlock sees the respect in him grow for her.
"Of course, John told me about how much he and Sherlock pay per a month, this ought to suffice for the year." And just like that, Severus Snape hands her a bag full of clanking round coins, by the impression they make on the bag, they are metal, and Sherlock can only wait and watch, and wonder.
"Oh, oh my…yes, that's quite settled, welcome." Mrs. Hudson opened it, and golden coins gleam in the hall light, as strange as Severus is.
Severus pays to attention to her reaction, or Sherlock, he looks up the stairs, where Harry is – who stares down at him with sleepy green eyes. Severus is still as any statue, barely breathing.
"Is that him?" Severus's question is so quiet it's a wonder how John can hear it, but hear it he does and his smile is tender as he looks down at Harry on his hip, in his arms.
"Yes, Severus, this is Harry, Lily's son." John introduces, and Harry giggles and waves, knowing he is the centre of attention and enjoying it. Sherlock catches Severus just barely smiling as he ducks his head and starts to climb the stairs, Harry cheering his every step nearing – and wiggling to hold out a hand for Severus to take, and take it he does, shaking gently as Harry squeezes his fingers.
"So he is." Severus agrees, not hiding his small smile at the sight of the green eyed boy, grinning openly up at him, and Sherlock thinks he'll do just fine with Harry… after both Severus and John have satisfied Sherlock's curiosity, of course.