Disclaimer: We made it to the big hole in the ground called appropriately the Grand Canyon. Our hotel has a rather nice view of it actually which means my son is avoiding all windows as he's excessively acrophobic. Ah, the fun of dangling him over the banister on the stairs. Good memories. He does scream like a girl but then he hasn't hit puberty yet. Sherlock and his friends and Harry and his friends aren't mine and I make no money on these stories.

A/N: Chapter Two of the Monday Blitz. Unfortunately I have been seriously busy and this will be the last one for this week and the next two weekends might be even worse as I have to drive a bunch of kids from my church up to their summer camps. It's something like a seven hour drive or a nine hour drive depending on which road I take. Believe it or not the nine hour drive is actually shorter. It just goes over the mountains so it takes longer. Anyway, here you go, enjoy it and let me know what you think.

At Hogwarts

Chapter Three: Flynn Carson

Chapter Summary: Our intrepid explorers meet a rather strange Muggle and confront the portrait of Dumbledore.

McGonagall sighed and shook her head. "Mr. Potter, meet Mr. Flynn Carson," she motioned between the two.

The blond man cocked his head to the side as he studied Harry. "I thought you'd be taller," he said. "Or at least more muscular."

Harry frowned at him. "I'm not," he said simply and then seemed to shrug off the irritation. "This is my wife, Luna and our friends, Dr. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes."

"Really?" Flynn brightened. "I didn't know they were magical! Their blogs don't say anything about magic."

"That would be breaking the Statute of Secrecy, Mr. Carson," Sherlock sneered. "Besides neither of us can practice this form of magic."

"This form? You mean there are others? Of course there are others! I mean there would have to be. I've seen a few myself. My boss disappears and reappears at will." Flynn rambled. "And I fight with a floating sword sometimes…though Excalibur usually beats me."

"I wouldn't doubt that," Harry snickered and led Luna to a chair. "Excalibur has a thousand or more years of experience over you." He and Luna sat down in armchairs side by side. "Good afternoon, Professor Snape." He addressed one of the portraits hanging on the wall. "How are you?"

"Mr. Potter," the portrait nodded to him. "I am a portrait, how do you expect me to be?"

Sherlock crept towards it for a closer look and then studied the elderly man in the portrait beside him. His eyes narrowed. "You're Dumbledore," he announced.

The portrait beamed at him. "Yes, my boy, I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief—"

"Be glad you are only a portrait and that I have no paint thinner," Sherlock hissed. "Were you alive I would beat you bloody."

The portraits eyes widened and his countenance dimmed before he looked over Sherlock's shoulder at Harry. "Harry, my boy, what have you been telling this poor delusional man about me to cause him to threaten bodily harm."

John stepped between the portrait's eyes and Harry. "Nothing but the truth and he hasn't really told us all that much. We're fairly smart and quite capable of laying the blame for Harry's life and troubles at the proper door."

Flynn looked between the fuming duo to Harry who was gripping Luna's hand in his own and then back to the portrait. He snorted. "I didn't think I liked you before but now I'm positive that I don't. Just tell me where the Philosopher's Stone is and I'll be out of your hair."

"It was destroyed nearly a decade ago, as I've told you, Mr. Carson," McGonagall said wearily as she sat behind the large desk in the middle of the room. "Why can you not accept that?"

Flynn took a seat near Luna and Harry and peered at her, his back to the portraits. He held up a small device that none of them could identify. "This says it's here in this castle somewhere and I have to find it."

"Immortality is not as wonderful as you've been led to believe, Mr. Carson," Dumbledore's portrait said before anyone else could speak.

Flynn turned to the portrait slowly and scowled at it around John. "I have no wish to be immortal," he claimed. "I only want to take the stone somewhere where it will be safe from fortune hunters and Dark Lords."

"You are a Muggle," McGonagall pointed out unnecessarily. "What would you know of Dark Lords?"

"Quite a bit," Sherlock answered for him. "Obviously. For a so called Muggle to have any knowledge of the term he must know a lot of them."

"The stone has been destroyed," McGonagall insisted.

Harry cocked his head to the side and pinned the woman with emerald eyes. "How do we know that?" He asked. "We only have Dumbledore's word and I'm learning more every day about his lies."

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall erupted. "How dare you?" She half rose from her seat. "Professor Dumbledore did the best he could for you and the school! Do not disparage his memory in front of me!"

"His best?" Sherlock exploded. "A toddler could have done a better job! Now where is this stone, Dumbledore?" He asked the portrait of the elderly man.

The portrait glared at him and remained silent.

"Albus?" McGonagall asked in a quiet voice as she thumped back down in her chair. "You did destroy the stone, didn't you? You said you had."

"My dear Minerva," the portrait began.

"Shut up, Albus!" The portrait of the dark haired man shouted at him. "It's obvious now that you didn't destroy the Philosopher's Stone! What were you thinking keeping that stone in a school full of children? Not to mention various embodiments of the Dark Lord! Have you lost what little sense you had to begin with? If this Muggle knows the stone's here then who else knows? You've endangered the school…again! And Potter no longer stays in the castle for any length of time! How is he supposed to save the school and the students if he's no longer here?"

Harry sat back in his chair and pulled John away from his line of vision. Luna waved her wand and two more chairs popped into existence to the side of Flynn's. "Sit down gentlemen," Harry instructed without looking at them. He regarded the portrait of Dumbledore in silence for a moment. "I am no longer a child," he said quietly. "I know how the world works now. Where is the Philosopher's Stone, Albus?"

Dumbledore stared at him with eyes full of disappointment. "You would allow these Muggles to tarnish your memory of me, my boy?" He asked sadly.

Harry laughed but it wasn't a happy sound. Luna covered her ears and leaned her head on her husband's shoulder. "Don't laugh like that, Harrymine. It will hurt your soul."

Harry stroked her long blond hair with one hand and never took his eyes from the portrait. "Sorry, Lunalove. I didn't need them to tarnish my memory. You did that all on your own. Where is the Philosopher's Stone?"

The portrait stared at him sadly. "I have only ever had your best interests in mind, my boy."

Harry snorted and Luna burrowed further into his shoulder. "I find it very sad that you actually believe that. You see, I've learned a bit about magical portraits. They cannot lie. They can mislead and only tell part of the truth but you can't actually lie to us anymore. Now then, where is the Philosopher's Stone, Albus?"

The portrait glared at him with ice cold blue eyes. "I am not going to allow the stone to fall into the hands of a Muggle," he declared.

"I am not a Muggle, Albus," Harry returned. "No matter how hard you tried to make me lose my magic, I still have it."

"That is a serious accusation, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall exploded at him. "You had better have the evidence to back it up or I will haul you before the Wizengamot for false witness!"

"In order to manage that, Professor," Luna said softly. "You will have had to hear Harrymine say that in front of four or more wizards or witches of good standing and you've only got yourself. I would never testify against my husband."

"It's not false witness, anyway," Harry said. "He placed me with abusive Muggles as a baby. Abuse can damage a magical core. I fought Voldemort in my first year and he drained me, that could have damaged my core as well. Second year I was bitten by a basilisk. Need I go on? Just tell me where the Philosopher's Stone is, Albus. Don't force me to find out for myself or you won't like the consequences."

Albus glared even harder. He couldn't believe this half-grown upstart was challenging him, again. Didn't he know what was good for him? "You will only hand it over to that Muggle and then what do you think will happen?"

"Hey! I've already said that I have no interest in immortality," Flynn protested. "I have no desire to live forever…though it would be interesting to be able to travel the world forever and read all the books," he shook his head. "But the price is too high for me. I also have no interest in money aside from making sure my bills are paid and I earn more than enough for that."

"Last chance, Albus," Harry said as he gently shook Luna off of him and stood before the portrait. "Where is the Philosopher's Stone?"

The portrait merely glared at him for a moment before turning his head away. "He isn't going to tell you, Mr. Potter," the dark-haired man said.

Harry sent him a small grin. "Oh, I knew that from the beginning," he claimed. "I just didn't want anyone," he sent a pointed glance at McGonagall, "to accuse me of being overhasty." He took a deep breath and suddenly seemed to begin glowing. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I, Harry James Potter, Heir to Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw by blood and Salazar Slytherin by conquest hereby order you to answer any questions Mr. Flynn Carson puts to you truthfully and fully with no prevaricating or obscuring." Three of the instruments on McGonagall's desk exploded and the older woman shrieked in pain for a moment before falling silent and blinking slowly.

A wave of magic passed through the room and over everyone, portraits included, inside the office. The castle walls shivered in what seemed to be delight to Sherlock. He stared hard at the young man and was shocked to see sadness in his eyes.

Dumbledore's portrait seemed to stiffen and his jaw dropped in shock. The magic in the air beat at the portrait.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore you are accused of endangering magical children." Harry continued.

Four ghosts, that Luna recognized as the House Ghosts, floated into the room. "Who accuses this former Headmaster of endangerment?" The Bloody Baron intoned.

Harry stood up as straight as he could and face the ghosts. "I, Harry James Potter, do." He answered in his most serious voice.

The magic in the room seemed to pulse. McGonagall tried to speak but no words emerged from her throat. Sherlock watched the proceedings with a strange light in his eyes. John and Flynn stared upon the participants with confusion and Luna stared out the window with a wistful look.

In a rush of wind the magic coalesced around Harry and then burst out and washed over everyone in the office. "Magic has declared your claim justified, Mr. Potter," the portrait of Snape said in a voice that wasn't his own. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore you are accused and will stand trial in front of these witnesses and judges."

"What?" Dumbledore squawked and stood. "I have done nothing wrong!" He walked to the side of the portrait and then fell backwards. "Let me out!"

"You will not leave these premises until this court is adjourned," Snape continued in that eerie voice. "Let us begin." He waved a hand and the five humans that weren't Harry were pushed back against one of the walls by a pulse of magic.

The Fat Friar floated over to them. "You must remain quiet," he warned them. "Unless you are called to speak. Do you understand?"

They all nodded though McGonagall looked more than a little dazed. None of them quite understood what exactly was happening except Luna but she gave the proceedings little attention as she stared out the window at the puffy white clouds painted on the blue sky.