Disclaimer: Yeah, so caught a tour bus to the Parthenon. Pretty cool. No Eros, though. Following a lead to Agii Apostoli. My contact said they thought they saw Eros hanging out partying there. Don't know if I believe my contact, he was rather drunk, but I've nothing better to do. For now, Sherlock and his friends aren't mine and I'm making no money. If I had money I wouldn't have to hitchhike.
A/N: Okay, so this chapter may make it seem as though I don't like Mycroft, that is patently untrue. Mycroft is a very versatile character. He can go either way with being out of character. This Mycroft isn't a bad guy. He is only going on the information he has available. The only spies he has in the Magical World are muggleborns who left as soon as they graduated from Hogwarts or those who fled and went into hiding during Voldemort's rise to power in either war. The only official information he gets was through Dumbledore or the Ministry so it's very skewed. He is trying to protect John and Sherlock from themselves at this point. He will learn his lesson eventually, I promise.
John's Storytime
Chapter Summary: There are many things about his best friend that Sherlock never knew. Will this new information change anything? And just who are Harry and Luna Potter?
"Light Warblers, John?" Sherlock finally asked a few hours later. His brain had rebooted hours ago but he continued to think about what he wanted to know. He had so many questions to ask and he wanted to put them all in order before he started. The Light Warblers weren't how he'd meant to start but it seemed that even when they weren't present Harry and Luna Potter seemed to derail his thinking. He'd have to see if it was a permanent condition or if it wore off with continued exposure. "Who were they and how…what…I'm frankly speechless. My deductions about them can't possibly be true. They're impossible." He knew that he made very little sense but John would understand him. John always understood him. That was the only thing that made this whole mind boggling incident bearable.
John set the tea cup in his hand onto the table in front of the sofa. He wanted his hand free in case he had to restrain Sherlock. The man was excitable at the best of times and was prone to dashing off after answers. Chasing after Harry and Luna wasn't a good idea. They were both still prone to hexing first and asking later. "Yes, Light Warblers, Sherlock," he said with a helpless shrug. "Or at least that's what Luna says. The people that visited were Harry Potter and his wife, Luna. The other questions you have I can't possibly answer if you don't finish them and as I don't know what you deduced I can't say whether they're true or not." John sat back and gazed at Sherlock quietly. His calm explanation did much to slow Sherlock's elevated breathing. Sherlock responded rather well to John's tone of voice and posture.
Sherlock made a sound of discontent even as he waved a hand at John to continue with the explanations he could. "Just tell me something," he finally vocalized.
John sighed heavily and scrubbed at his face with his hands. "I do have things to tell you but we're waiting on Mycroft who will provide proof of what I say, should you require it and his own perspective on the Wizarding World and Harry Potter." He frowned in disapproval at the empty doorway. "I wouldn't put too much stock in what Mycroft says about Harry, however, as the two of them dislike each other even more than you and Mycroft do."
"To be completely accurate I dislike Mycroft, he is only mildly annoyed by me," Sherlock pointed out. "But he's still my brother and he does love me as I do him, sometimes, when he's far away and not spying on me. Why doesn't he like Harry Potter?" Sherlock shook his head in bafflement. He couldn't see anything objectionable about the younger man although he did seem to have an aura of aloofness that would irritate Mycroft. He didn't think Harry would take kindly to Mycroft's habits of manipulation and bullying.
"That's a story better told by Harry or Mycroft," John hedged. As a matter of fact he wasn't all together sure he truly understood either. He did know some but it seemed that Harry should dislike Mycroft more and Mycroft should dislike Harry a lot less than he actually seemed to. Harry had saved them all after all. Maybe Mycroft just didn't like that Harry wouldn't kowtow to him as nearly everyone else did. "But it has a lot to do with how Mycroft ignored some problems and Harry was forced to fix them himself, as a child." Really, Mycroft should be thanking the younger man profusely and yet he seemed extremely wary and nearly fearful of him.
Sherlock swallowed hard and stared at John in something like confusion. He couldn't imagine Mycroft ignoring any kind of problem no matter how small. Then he shook that notion away, he'd speak to Mycroft about it later. "I don't require proof, John," Sherlock said slowly. "I know you won't lie to me." He completely trusted John as he'd never trusted anyone. Not even his own parents or Mycroft before he became such an overbearing pain.
John gave him a gentle smile that held doubt. "Some of what I'm going to tell you is going to be unbelievable though so I don't expect you to just believe me out of hand, Sherlock. I know you like to have logical proof and clear evidence." He said this in a tone that was as gentle as his smile. He knew his story was unbelievable even if it was true.
Sherlock thought about that for a moment. He wasn't going to just dismiss John's concerns out of hand but he knew the other man was always cautious with information that may seem out of the ordinary. "You mean you don't expect me to believe that they have some kind of mystical power that allows them to manipulate their environment to their heart's content without proof?" He finally just gave out the only answer that his deductions could lead to. There was no other explanation for the anomaly that the couple had presented.
"Erm…yes?" John stuttered, shocked that Sherlock had deduced that from only a few moments of observation. He didn't think that magic was that visible. He'd certainly never been able to spot a witch or wizard simply by looking at them, except for the outlandishly out of date and strange clothing that many magic raised wore. How had Sherlock known?
Sherlock waved a hand negligently through the air above his chest. "I know that already. The boy…Harry, was practically thrumming with it. My hair nearly stood on end at the energy surrounding him when he knelt by me. He must be a very powerful magic user." He knew it sounded preposterous but he couldn't help feeling awed by the boy.
John smiled again this time the gentleness was gone only to be replaced by pride. "He is," he confirmed. "Actually, Harry is the most powerful wizard or witch in nearly a thousand years. Don't call him boy though, Sherlock," he felt he needed to caution him on this point before Harry or Luna visited again. "He doesn't like it," was the only explanation he could give without knowing what else Sherlock had deduced.
"Why?" Sherlock asked, genuinely curious. After a moment while John bit his lip Sherlock nearly groaned out loud as some of Harry's mannerisms that he'd overlooked came to him. "Was he really abused as badly as I think he was?"
John shrugged uncomfortably. He didn't think Harry would appreciate them talking about him this way. "I've no idea, not really. I have my suspicions and so do you but I've never asked him and I probably won't. Even if it's as bad as we both believe it to be, there's nothing we can do about it. He's already left that situation and there's nothing we can do to change the past." John shook off the morose thoughts. He needed to derail this conversation and move it back to safer waters before Sherlock decided to go do something about the abuse to the young man that had done so much for everyone. Knowing Sherlock he'd either go berate Mycroft until his brother told him everything he knew or he'd go try to find Harry to do the same thing. "Since you believe in magic I'll tell you what I can before Mycroft shows up." He hoped that worked to get Sherlock to concentrate on something else.
"He doesn't like Mycroft either," Sherlock observed, refusing to be dissuaded from the topic. The tensing of Harry's shoulders at the mention of Mycroft had escaped his conscious notice earlier but it now penetrated. "Why? I know I asked you earlier and that you don't know the whole reason but tell me what you can. I want to know how much to yell at Mycroft for." Besides allowing the abuse to go unchecked, he added to himself. Just the fact that Mycroft and Harry knew each other proved that Harry was an Important person. Mycroft usually kept a very close eye on the Important people. What was different about Harry?
John smirked a bit evilly and Sherlock felt a shot of heated desire at it. John may not find him attractive but he definitely found John desirable even if he'd never have the chance to act on it. "Mycroft used his connections to stop the military from intervening in a war in Harry's world. I know that you don't understand what I just said but it's a long story so just be patient and listen to me." He paused and leveled a serious look on his friend. "I don't mean just pretend to listen either. I know you often simply act like you're listening when I'm speaking to you about some things but this is important and I don't want you being caught by surprise later." He waited for Sherlock's nod of acknowledgement and was only slightly surprised to have Sherlock's complete attention on him. Sherlock sometimes did that with a particularly interesting clue and had, on occasion, done the same to John when he'd said something worth not forgetting. "I don't know a lot about it because I'm not part of Harry's world, not really, and haven't been for a very long time." John drew a breath and seemed to choose his words with care. "You know that magic exists and that people can use it. Well, hundreds of years ago the wizards and witches of the time decided that they didn't want to be around non magic users. So they cut themselves off…built their own enclaves, I guess that would be the best word."
John went on to explain the history of the Wizarding World and why they had a separate governing system even though they lived on British soil. Sherlock nodded throughout the explanation as he could understand why they had done what they did. Really who wouldn't? John finally wound down and Sherlock stared at him for a moment. "What does that have to do with Mycroft stopping the military?" He asked in confusion. Nothing John had explained so far would even connect Mycroft to that world.
So John explained about muggleborns and purebloods and halfbloods and Voldemort. Sherlock's eyes widened at the story of the madman that had tried to take over Wizarding and Muggle Britain. But he kept silent while John explained all he knew. He couldn't believe that Mycroft had known about all of this and had let a child fix it for him. Mycroft was not usually so irresponsible.
"You mean to tell me that this…this terrorist was scooping people up and killing them and my brother did nothing?" Sherlock hissed his utter fury evident in his tone.
"And what would you have had me do, brother?" Mycroft asked from the door where he'd been silently eavesdropping for the past ten minutes. His brother had been so caught up in the tale and his rising anger that he hadn't detected Mycroft at all. That was more than a bit disturbing and further evidence of the malevolent affect Harry Potter had on everyone he came into contact with.
Sherlock scowled at his brother and at himself for not noticing Mycroft listening in. "Oh, I don't know," he said sarcastically. "Stop them maybe?" It seemed completely obvious to him.
"How?" Mycroft asked mildly in an interested tone. "They have magic to kill and protect themselves from us." He strode into the parlour and sat in an armchair across from John. He gave the appearance of a man completely at ease thought he furious look Sherlock was sending his way did make him slightly wary. Sherlock was unpredictable at the best of time. "We have no defenses against their spells." He gave that information with a scolding look at his brother.
John snorted derisively, ready with a rebuttal for that comment. "They've yet to invent a shield spell that will stop a bullet, Mycroft." He shook his head at the older man. That was a horrid excuse really.
Mycroft frowned at him for a moment, knowing that A had said the same thing, before his expression cleared. "I will not have a civil war again. Voldemort was a nuisance and has been taken care of. We may thank Mr. Potter for that, of course. Though I do wonder if he won't become an even bigger problem in the future." His voice was musing and he stared off into the distance as though contemplating the images of what could be.
"It's no wonder he doesn't like you, Mycroft," Sherlock bit out through clenched teeth. "I don't like you either. Since when does the British Government depend on children to fight our wars? You left a child alone to defeat a madman! A child, Mycroft!" He could believe that Mycroft of all people had been so insensitive.
"He was well taken care of," Mycroft countered, in a nonchalant tone. Honestly did think he'd simply sent the boy off with no training whatsoever? Dumbledore had sent him reports on Mr. Potter's progress like clockwork every three months and after Dumbledore's death McGonagall had done the same. A sudden thought came to him. "Incidentally, would you tell him that his relatives have been safely retrieved and are home, Dr. Watson? They have requested that he give them time to settle back into their lives before he visits." Though really that request was more than a year old now. He just hadn't had a chance to speak with Harry or anyone who knew him personally before. It wasn't important information.
John held up a hand when Sherlock sat up straight and prepared to light into his brother. Sherlock relaxed back. John had that scary look on his face. "Tell me something, Mycroft," John said in a quiet voice that made Sherlock shiver at the menace in it, it was an interesting sensation. Part of him was positive that he'd be terrified if John ever used that voice on him and the other part was positive he'd jump John the second the first word was out of his mouth. "Have you met Harry Potter?" John didn't seem to be aware of Sherlock's dilemma. He'd continued in that tone.
Mycroft gave a genial smile. "Once, briefly. Intriguing young man," he said almost to himself. "Seemed to be very shy and quiet. One would hardly think that given his background and the stories I've been told of him." He'd been very surprised after everything he'd heard about the boy. He would have expected someone far more arrogant and pretentious. But Harry had been very quiet at the party where they'd been introduced. The boy had seemed vaguely uncomfortable and had left quite early. It had been before his marriage to the Lovegood girl but after his break up with the Weasley chit. At the time Mycroft had passed of his uncomfortableness to his lack of a date. Boys at that age were so very conscious of their reputation and image.
"Why would one think he'd be anything else?" John asked in that same quiet voice. Had Mycroft cared to look he would see the fury snapping in John's eyes. John was furious with Mycroft's cavalier attitude and he was struggling to keep his voice level.
Mycroft looked faintly astonished. "He was raised to be a soldier. He knew that his destiny lay in the defeat of Voldemort. And after he'd fulfilled his destiny he was to have become an Auror and help to keep his world and incidentally ours safe. He has yet to fulfill that second part and therein lies the problem. Killing and fending off Dark Wizards is all he knows and I fear that with no one in authority to keep an eye on him he will become the next Dark Lord."
Sherlock let out a bark of derisive laughter. "You really weren't paying attention when you met him," he accused and then subsided at John's sharp look and settled back to watch the ceiling again.
Mycroft's eyebrow rose. He'd never seen Sherlock that compliant. Interesting. "As I was saying," he continued. "Mr. Potter is very powerful and when powerful people get bored or depressed bad things happen. At the moment he seems to be simply resting on his laurels and doing not much of anything aside from spending time with his new wife and a few friends. He should be enjoying his accolades and making public appearances. He is supposed to be leading his world in a new direction and yet he seems to hate the limelight that his actions rightly give him. From the reports I was sent from his headmaster I had expected someone far more arrogant and bigheaded. And the newspapers from the Wizarding World claim he is unstable and mad, even now. None of their reporters dare to approach him after he transfigured one of them into a coffee mug with an American flag on it."
John snorted, wondering who had annoyed Harry to the point of retaliation and whether the reporter had insulted Luna which was usually the quickest way to anger Harry. "Well, there's your problem then," he told Mycroft with a faint smirk still lingering on his lips. He'd have to ask Harry to repeat the coffee mug incident. It sounded amusing. "You depended on only two sources of information, one of which was under the control of a corrupt government. If you knew about the part he was supposedly born to play then why did you not check up on him yourself?" And did Dumbledore spell you into compliance? Though he didn't say that last part aloud.
Mycroft gave his head a small shake as though indulging John. "He was already in school at the time I learned of him. There was no need to check on him. I was given regular reports on his progress." Really what did they expect him to do? There were political concerns to mitigate and the Wizarding World was its own entity. He couldn't exactly interfere in things the way he could everywhere else. It was galling but true.
Sherlock gave a wordless growl and John shot him a look that had him sitting back with a smirk. John was much better prepared for this conversation than he was at the moment. Besides it was rather interesting to watch John light into Mycroft in his calm, steady manner. John never used that tone on him. Sure John yelled and whined and scolded but he never truly acted disappointed and stern. "I would suggest you hold off on your preconceived notions of Harry Potter until you spend a bit more time with him, though I doubt he'll ever let you." John suggested in a cold voice. "And I thought you were supposed to be smarter than Sherlock." He shook his head in disdain. Or was Mycroft being willfully blind?
Mycroft merely raised an eyebrow at John's dismay. He did not like being taken to task as though he were a school boy again. "Dr. Watson," he started in an equally cold tone only to be cut off by John.
"I will not listen to your feeble excuses, Mycroft," John's voice was no longer cold. His tone was filled with raging heat and fury. Sherlock hid his wince at the tone. He had never heard that much anger in John's voice before. He wasn't sure he liked to see his blogger so upset. "Harry doesn't like you at all and I don't blame him. You are a stupid man. I will attempt to get Harry to spend more than five minutes in your presence and if it happens then you come back to me and give me those same excuses and deductions if you can." John sat back and leveled an angry look on Mycroft. "Now you may leave. I've told Sherlock everything and he believes me without your help." John's tone was once again level and his facial features had relaxed into his normal expression.
"Everything John?" Sherlock asked astonished. He did enjoy that look on Mycroft's face though. Mycroft had never met the Soldier, not really. And now he had and he was disconcerted by it. It was glorious. He blinked and tilted his head in thought amazed at how little the information John had doled out had changed his opinions of his best friend and the two people that he'd only just met. There had to be more. How did John know all these things, for instance?
John flushed a bit. "Well everything that pertains to Harry anyway. And everything I may have needed Mycroft's assistance with. Besides, he didn't seem to bring A and she's the one I really needed to see for the proof. Harry says she's a witch." Though he wasn't sure he wanted her in their flat. Harry might say she was trustworthy but the woman worked for Mycroft.
"She is," Mycroft confirmed quietly. "I can text her to come in and do a spell if you wish." He knew Sherlock at least would shoot his offer down. Sherlock hadn't trusted him for years and he wasn't exactly sure why. Probably just Sherlock being Sherlock.
"I don't," Sherlock frowned as predicted. "I don't trust you not to order her to do something harmful." He crossed his arms over his chest and kept his gaze on the ceiling. What were those sparkly things?
"I would never allow Anna to harm either of you," Mycroft protested firmly. He really wouldn't but that didn't mean Anna was as firmly under his control as they thought. Her first loyalty was to her own world. And that meant Harry. He may have to find a new assistant soon.
Sherlock swung his legs to the floor and sat up properly. He leveled a glare at his brother. "I'm sure there are plenty of spells that aren't considered harmful by you that actually are. You could have her persuade us to forget about Harry and Luna or have us attack them when they show up or any one of a hundred other things. Just go, Mycroft, if I feel the need to see someone performing magic I'll ask Harry the next time he comes by."
Mycroft rose to his feet and gave them both a faintly superior smile. "Very well. Simply be aware that Mr. Potter is a very dangerous individual and I will protect my family if I must from him as I have always protected them." He tapped his brolly on the floor and nodded to himself. Perhaps he should have Anna set up a warning spell on the flat so that he would know when Harry arrived.
John sent him a glare. "Harry would never hurt an innocent." He said stoutly, his faith in Harry nearly as strong as his faith in Sherlock. "And whether you believe it or not Sherlock and I are innocents to him. Slightly strange but innocents all the same." Besides they'd done nothing to harm Harry or Luna. They were safe as houses as long as they had Harry on their side.
Mycroft gave him a pitying look and then turned and left. John's blind trust was one of the reasons he'd been supportive of his friendship with Sherlock but now he was rethinking that position. That blind trust in people was becoming bothersome.
"John?" Sherlock asked after they'd heard the door downstairs close behind his brother. "Why does Mycroft think that Harry was raised the way he does?" Though he wondered if John really knew. There were so many questions to be answered still. He'd always believed his brother was a meddlesome bother but he'd never thought Mycroft so blind.
"Because he's an idiot," John returned sharply his eyes glaring at the door. After a moment he got up and stalked to the window. He stared out at the street for a long moment before dipping his chin and then turning to return to his seat. "Since he's not part of the Wizarding World he believes the crap the politicians of that world feed him. Either that or someone close to him has been deliberately keeping him in the dark. Though truthfully a lot of people believe that tripe. The Potters are an old and very wealthy family. Harry is the only Potter left. Everything, the fortune, the land, the seats on the Wizengamot, it's all his. Mycroft believes what everyone else does because he's too lazy to actually investigate. I never thought I'd be able to say that about either of you but in this case it's true." He shook his head again in disappointment and picked up his now cold tea.
Sherlock wondered exactly what had passed between Anna and John at the window but knew he would never get an answer. John was very good at keeping things quiet when he wanted to. Besides it meant he didn't have to worry about Mycroft's assistant creeping into the flat while he was unaware and casting spells for whatever reason Mycroft had come up with. "So you're going to try and give him a chance to make his own conclusions?" He continued his questioning though only part of his mind was on the conversation.
"Yep," John confirmed with a shrug. "It's the only way he'll ever believe anything different from what he's been told."
"How could he not see that Harry was abused?" Sherlock wondered out loud. "It's written all over him quite plainly." His brother was usually as observant as he was.
John nodded. Even he could see the signs. "Now," he sighed. "He used to hide it much better. Luna's been good for him." He sighed again. There was nothing they could do to change the past. "Now do you want to know the parts that Mycroft doesn't need to prove for you?" He changed the subject.
Sherlock nodded eagerly. He slumped back down on the couch and positioned himself on his back again. He turned his head on the cushion so that he could see John and the other man would know that he was listening.
"I was born John Romulus Lupin and I am a squib." John stated boldly. He waited for the reaction he knew was coming. Sherlock knew enough to know that his state was an embarrassment. Would Sherlock want him to leave now?
"That's the opposite of a Muggleborn, right?" Sherlock asked with no inflection in his voice though he could tell by the way that John had announced his status almost belligerently that he thought Sherlock would look down on him for it. Sherlock went over the information John had already given him and remembered that John had something about squibs being a disgrace on a family name. He didn't understand fully and hoped it was something John would explain without him actually having to ask. It seemed…rude to ask about it somehow. He didn't usually mind being rude but this was John and the last thing he wanted was to hurt John in anyway.
John nodded, relived that Sherlock hadn't pitied or reviled him for an accident of birth. Though he really should have known better. "When I was five my younger brother, Remus, who was two, preformed accidental magic. That's when my parents finally admitted that I was a squib. They didn't want me to grow up feeling that I was less than my brother and so they sent me into the muggle world to be adopted. I was. I didn't really understand at the time but now I am grateful for what my parents did. Three years later Remus was bitten by a werewolf. My parents tried to get me back since a werewolf can't inherit but a squib can to a certain extent. Werewolves are also not allowed to go to school or marry or have children." He hated those laws, though it hadn't stopped Remus from doing as he wished.
"That's disgusting," Sherlock broke in, appalled at the unfair laws. What kind of world would do things like that? Especially in the 21st century.
"Yes," John agreed. "Remus was unique though. The werewolf curse didn't affect his magic. Most times it does. So Remus did get to go to school and I was allowed to stay with the Watson's. I knew about both worlds and tried my best to maintain contact with my families. I met Remus's friends sometimes. They were an alright bunch. Sirius and Peter, both purebloods, had no idea how to interact with me and they thought they were better than me. James, Harry's father, was also a pureblood and he was unsure at first and then just decided one day that it didn't matter. James's family was very liberal and quite open minded." He smiled slightly at some of the memories he had of the Marauders. The four of them were quite the bunch…though he should have known Peter was a traitor. He'd never really believed Sirius had betrayed them either. It wasn't like he had a voice in that world though.
"I'm not sure I understand." Sherlock admitted uncomfortably. He wasn't uncomfortable because he hated admitting to not knowing something though he did hate that. He knew the topic was getting uncomfortably close to him having to outright ask John to clarify and it felt faintly wrong to ask John about that.
John smiled. He found Sherlock's attempts to be delicate amusing though he was grateful. Sherlock's careful words proved more than anything that John was important to him. "Squibs are an embarrassment, Sherlock. Most purebloods will have nothing to do with the squibs in their families. There are rumors of some of the more…dark families getting rid of their embarrassments."
Sherlock frowned in consternation, he wasn't sure he liked this world of John's. They'd just have to have Harry and Luna visit them in this one. He wasn't going to expose his blogger to such madness. "For an accident of birth?"
John nodded with an air of resigned tolerance. The Wizarding World was not a place he'd ever truly liked being. The pity and disgust on the faces of the magic users when they found out about him always made him feel irritated and sometimes ashamed. He knew that he'd been very lucky to be born to the family that he had. "Even the lighter families shunt them to the side and ignore their squibs. It's the way it is…mostly. There are some families that aren't that way. The Potters are one of them. James's told me that the squibs that had been born in his family were all sent to the muggle world if they chose as adults. Before they grew up they were taught everything possible about the muggle world and knew that they would always be family and could come back if they were uncomfortable. On the other hand his family hadn't had a squib in a very long time. The Potter's were always a different breed of wizard. They were far more discriminating in their taste in spouses. Potter men seem to be attracted to intelligence and Potter women to powerful men. They never much cared for blood status. It's only a quirk of fate or wealth that they're still considered purebloods. The Potter family has been around for centuries." He drew a breath and shook his head. "Anyway we've gotten off topic. I was overseas when I learned that James and Lily had been murdered by Voldemort. As soon as my tour was over I searched out Remus to learn what had happened. Apparently Sirius had betrayed them to Voldemort and then killed Peter. Remus had no idea what had happened to Harry except that Dumbledore, the Headmaster and leader of the Order of the Phoenix, said he was safe." He shrugged helplessly. Those few words weren't enough to convey his sorrow and anger of what had happened to the one Wizarding family that he actually respected at the time. He'd adored Lily's gentle nature and James' humor. He'd though James a prat when he was a teenager but his relationship with Lily had mellowed him and he hadn't been quite so quick to prank all and sundry with thoughtless and sometimes harmful pranks.
"And your brother just listened to him without confirming that for himself?" Sherlock scoffed with an edge of irritation for such blind obedience.
"Yep," John said without excusing Remus' ignorance and faith. "Dumbledore was this supposedly great man that everyone nearly worshipped. I looked for Harry when I wasn't abroad getting shot at but I could never find him. I didn't quite trust Dumbledore but it didn't really matter in the end because I could never find Harry to check on him. By the time Remus saw him again he was thirteen." John went on to sketch out what he'd learned from Remus about Harry's school years and the second war with Voldemort. It wasn't much and he knew it wouldn't satisfy Sherlock but it was all he had.
"Amazing," Sherlock breathed out when John had finished. "Simply amazing. Harry really did all that?" Harry had become even more intriguing to him now. He couldn't wait for the young man to visit again so that he could ask all the questions floating in his head.
"I'm sure it's not the full story but Harry doesn't talk about things much." John cautioned his friend. "He wrote to me to let me know that Remus had died. Remus had told him a bit about me and he knew that no one else would inform me. A few months ago he found out that I was back and hunted me down at the surgery to meet me. He's a good kid." He would never tell Sherlock how surprised he'd been when it had seemed that the long dead James Potter had waltzed into his tiny office one day with a blond on his arm instead of a redhead. It had taken him only an instant to realize the man before him was Harry and not James. He didn't think Harry even realized he'd mistaken him for his father for a second.
"Yes, he does seem to be," Sherlock agreed without a trace of his usual sneer for such an inane comment. He blinked and then tilted his head on the cushion before remembering he wasn't sitting up and he must look like a prize idiot with the top of his head nearly buried in the cushion. He refused to acknowledge it though as he knew John would never be crass enough to point it out. "But what about his wife, Luna?" He asked the question that had prompted the tilt.
"Luna is," John paused as though looking for words to describe Luna. He sighed in defeat and shrugged. "Luna is Luna, Sherlock. She's different from anyone I've ever met. She whimsical and flighty but she's fiercely loyal to him. She may seem a bit…well, odd, but I think it's a mask so that no one bothers her. She's a good kid and she'd do nearly anything for Harry." There weren't many people that had that kind of loyalty. Harry was very lucky.
Sherlock gave him an arch look. John had nearly described himself right there but Sherlock wasn't going to point it out to him. He'd only argue and then shout a little when Sherlock proved stubborn on the subject and then they'd have tea and never mention it again. "That was more than obvious, John." Was his only comment. He'd normally have a fine time arguing with John but he wanted to think about all he'd learned and he could always argue later. He wondered if Harry and Luna argued for the sake of arguing like he and John did. Then realized that they probably had a better way of making up than a cup of tea.
John laughed as Sherlock had hoped he would and started to push himself to his feet. "It's late now; Sherlock and I know that Harry and Luna will be here bright and early so I am going to bed. I'll see you in the morning." Sherlock could see the signs of his weariness in the slump of his shoulders and the slight catch in his hands as the muscles in his shoulder twinged. Maybe Harry or Luna would know a way to lessen John's pain without narcotics. Maybe there was a way to fix his friend magically though he didn't think John would allow it. Still…Harry was sneaky and Luna was smart so maybe between the three of them they'd figure something out.
Sherlock waved a hand at him and lay back on the couch. There were no dust motes now, the sun was gone. "Good night, John," he called as the other man disappeared up the stairs. He stared up at the ceiling and thought. Were Light Warblers only visible in the sun? If he watched long enough maybe he'd be able to see one. He'd often thought he'd seen something on the edge of his vision when the sun shone in through the window. Light Warblers dancing in the sun? He knew he'd get the answers to him many questions eventually. Harry and Luna would be back in the morning and even if he never voiced his questions aloud he knew he'd be able to figure out some of the answers.