A Study in Magic
by Books of Change
Warning/Notes: This is a BBC Sherlock and Harry Potter crossover AU. The HP timeline and BBC Sherlock's timeline has been shifted forwards and backwards to match up. One major BBC Sherlock character's gender has changed for the sake of the plot. The story was planned and written before season 2 (but incorporating elements of thereof as much as possible). Readers beware!
Chapter Sixty Three: Luminous Oversight
The sun was hanging low on London's skyline. A thin crowd covered her streets, as one could expect on a bitterly cold evening in February. Among the roaming people were a man-and-woman couple walking an enormous black dog. The man looked quite a bit older than his companion, with his greying hair and lined face, and he was wearing a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby tweed jacket, a hand-knit jumper and trousers. The woman had a heart shaped face, bright bubble-gum pink hair and wore heavily patched jeans and a bright purple hoodie bearing the words The Weird Sisters.
The two chatted as the dog trotted briskly before them, tail wagging.
"Is it okay for you to be out and about, Remus?" asked the woman as they crossed a street. "Aren't you supposed to get the treatment tonight?"
"This is part of my exercise regime," said the man named Remus. "I'm under strict orders to keep it. I may have also driven my young upstairs neighbour to distraction with my pacing. His mother all but forced me out of the flat when he started crying—again." Then he turned to the woman. "What about you, Tonks? Won't you get in trouble for getting involved?"
"I'm training," said Tonks. "I'm observing how my uncle-in-law traces a murderer."
"Uncle-in-law?"
"Well, what exactly are you supposed to call your mother's mental older sister's husband's long-lost older brother?"
"Point," Remus conceded.
Remus and Tonks continued to walk down a pavement next to a row of flats. They stopped at modest three-story building in the corner. Remus pressed the buzzer and then froze when Tonks suddenly hooked her arm around his. An old woman holding a feather-duster opened the door before Remus could gather his wits.
"Wotcher," said Tonks brightly. "We're here to see the flat."
The woman's eyes drifted briefly at Remus and Tonks's joined arms and then at the dog sitting at their feet, tongue lolling. "Ah. Come this way, please."
The three of them entered the flat, Tonks bumping into a table hiding a hole in the parlour wall. Remus felt the warmth of the arm curled around his elbow burn through his coat as the old woman introduced herself as Martha and started prattling non-stop about the flat and the previous occupants.
"That's a very well-behaved dog you've got there, by the way," said Martha as they walked through a dingy and narrow hallway.
"Th-thank you," muttered Remus, grimacing as a peculiar smell that reminded him of dungbombs and skunk pierced everyone's noses, making the dog sneeze.
"Is he the type to bark at intruders?" asked Martha.
"He's the perfect guard dog," said Tonks without missing a beat. "Why do you ask? You don't have thieves in the neighbourhood, do you?"
"Ah, no, it's not that," said Martha, somehow blithely ignoring the pounding music that was rattling the walls. "It's just … another couple used to rent the flat you're about to see. The girl vanished a few days shy of Christmas." She paused. "Well, I say girl… more like a grown woman and then some…"
"Do you know what happened?" asked Remus.
"That's the thing, no one knows," said Martha in a hushed voice. "Richard went spare looking for her, but Sebastiana never turned up."
Remus wet his lips. "Were the police called?"
"I think so. Only … it's hard to prove foul play for this sort of thing, you know? I reckon the police just figured she left him. But I overheard Richard insisting she'd never leave him like this."
Remus nodded.
"What do you think, Martha?" asked Tonks after a beat. "Do you think Sebastiana just left?"
"Mmm, maybe," said Martha pensively as she took out a set of keys in front of a rickety door that had a heavily scared doorknob. "They got along well enough when they weren't fighting like cats and snakes, but I'm not sure if they actually liked each other … Between you and me, I think Sebastiana was more interested in Richard's stories than she was of him. Sebastiana was a writer of some sort, and Richard was helping her. Richard travelled around the world a lot as a soldier, you see, so he had plenty of interesting stories to tell."
"What kind of interesting stories?" Remus asked.
"Most of them were about the Middle East," said Martha. "He got deployed there many times, apparently. He even got a medal for a six month stint at somewhere called the Death Valley, but I might be wrong. I wasn't really paying attention because there's always a dead insurgent at the end of his tales…"
"Is he good?"
"I don't know," said Martha, shivering. "And I really don't want to know. For me to understand, he'll have to tell me how many people he killed, won't he?"
Remus nodded again. "I'm sorry if I upset you."
"Oh no, it's quite alright," said Martha as she opened the door. "There, here it is."
Tonks and Remus looked at the flat. It was empty except for a camp bed that had rusty frames in the corner and a lopsided bedside cabinet. The wallpaper was moldy, dirty and peeling off the edges. The floor had several months' worth of dust lying upon it, and the window blinds were brown with filthy cobwebs.
"It's not much to look at," said Martha, shaking her head. "I honestly don't recommend it. The other rooms in this house aren't that much better."
"Wait, aren't you the landlady?" blurted Remus.
"Oh, no," said Martha. "I just do the cleaning here once in a while. The owner asked me to sub after he checked himself in for losing almost half a year's worth of memories."
Remus, Tonks and the dog hastily left the premises after thanking Martha and agreeing to her advice that, even if money was tight, they really could do better. They ran into a narrow alleyway, and there the dog transformed into man wearing a black leather coat and jeans. The three then vanished with a small pop.
Remus, Tonks and the man in black, Sirius by name, reappeared in a basement flat about a second later.
"Definitely Moran," said Sirius in rush. "I bet he forgot to Obliviate Martha because she was just the cleaning lady."
Remus quietly agreed while trying not to get too excited. This was the first solid-looking clue he and Sirius uncovered since they'd started searching for 'Parker', the enigmatic military wizard Sherlock suspected was working for Lord Voldemort. It was possible they were jumping the magic carpet after hitting so many dead-ends since learning who Parker really was.
Parker's real name was Sebastian Moran. John's older sister Harriet was able to identify him from the mugshot Lestrade provided because she, like Moran, was a former royal marine. Remus didn't understand most of the profanity-littered phone conversation the Watson sisters had over Moran, but Harriet mentioned Korengal Valley (also known as the Valley of Death), one hundred and nineteen confirmed kills, two hundred and thirty-five claimed kills, and a hushed up target practice incident that precipitated his discharge. John's reaction to this information was enough to convince Remus that he was an extremely dangerous man, and the first thing he did after the realisation was telling Sirius he was going to join him.
They had a day long fight after his announcement. Sirius shouted that he was perfectly capable of tackling Moran by himself, and if both he and Remus were gone, Harry would have no one connecting him to James. Remus argued tailing a person who was capable of killing hundreds of people alone was the height of stupidity, and he didn't want Harry to lose his godfather so soon after he got him back, thank you. Remus won the argument by virtue of John making the command decision that they were going to work together or else. So they did and made virtually no progress for weeks—that is, until Remus had his heart attack.
Sirius acted as recklessly as Remus feared he would during the complete bed-rest period of his convalesce: He asked a favour from Sherlock's older brother Mycroft to locate Moran. Remus wanted to rake Sirius over the coals when he learned what his old friend did. Though he met Mycroft only once, very briefly at the end of the 221B Christmas party, a fiasco no one wanted to admit to attending, Remus immediately had the impression Mycroft was the type of person who could arrange the takeover of an entire nation and succeed. He certainly did what Remus and Sirius couldn't do for weeks within a day.
Mycroft didn't provide a definite address. Couldn't, he said, as Moran wasn't foolish enough leave a paper trail. But Moran's face showed up in a few CCTV camera records and through these Mycroft was able to establish several locations as possible hide-outs. He continued to update Sirius as he collected more data.
Moran moved around a lot, never staying in one location for more than a month. Once Remus got better enough to move about, he used his walks to investigate Moran's potential addresses with Sirius. The previous inquiries turned up nothing, as Moran was careful to erase all of his neighbours' and landlord/landlady's memories. Martha was the first person they'd met who even remembered someone had lived in the flat around the time Moran was there. They were nowhere near actually locating Moran, but at least they knew he was in the country … and he had had a female companion. The name Sebastiana was easy enough to figure out, and Richard's history lined up with Moran's. Who this woman was and why she agreed to swap names with Moran, Remus had no clue… unless 'Richard' was a reference to Richard Brooke…
"Not too fast," said Tonks. "This could be a trap: Leave an obvious clue so Moran can figure out who is after him."
Sirius and Remus looked at her.
"It's possible," said Remus.
"Yes, it's possible, but then so what?" Sirius argued. "For this to work as a proper trap, Martha will need to know true things about Moran to tell us about it. If it isn't trap, she still told us true things about Moran."
"But if it is a trap, we might've given the search away," said Remus. "We didn't erase Martha's memory. She'll remember what we look like. Dogs that look like your animagus form aren't exactly common, Sirius, and Tonks is quite striking."
"Oh, she won't remember," said Tonks confidently. "You two may have scruples over modifying old Muggle ladies' memories, but I don't. Anyway, I made her forget about us, but left her memory of the visit itself intact."
Remus admired the subtle brilliance of this. "That was amazing."
Tonks grinned.
"Thanks. Anyway, back to Moran: he might still figure out Martha was memory charmed, and err on the side of caution and go underground," she said.
"Or he might be too worried about finding his girlfriend to think about Martha," said Sirius sarcastically.
Remus sighed. "Yes, there are many possible explanations and outcomes. Why don't we discuss this with everyone so we can know what to do next?"
The three of them went upstairs. There they were intercepted by Molly Weasley, who was holding a squirming Benedict close to her bosom. Young master Benedict looked no happier than he did yesterday after he got something John called 'immunization shots'—he'd been crying non-stop ever since.
"Shhhhh," said Molly urgently. "The poor dears are asleep. Don't wake them."
Remus shut his mouth, not to comply, but to conceal his shock over the notion of Sherlock sleeping. He peered at the room down the hall next to the kitchen in a futile hope to see this mysterious anomaly. As suspected, the door was closed and a white sheet of paper that had red symbols written on it was taped on the door's surface. No noise came through.
"But this is important," Sirius protested. "Sherlock will flip out."
Molly wagged a finger at him.
"Yes, I know he acts like a child where his cases are concerned. In fact, he's been acting like a boy who'd stayed up far past his bedtime all day today. So even if you wake him up now, he'll be of no use. It can wait until morning." Then she turned to Remus. "Shouldn't you be on your way? Today is an important day for you!"
"Yes, yes, I know," said Remus, smiling in a placating way. "In case you're wondering: no, Sherlock didn't make me work until the very last minute. I needed a breather before I left."
Molly exhaled. "Well, if you say so…"
-oo00oo-
Roughly around the same time Remus was portkeyed to the werewolf treatment testing site, Hermione and Ron were heading to the music room, ostensibly for their flute and piano lessons respectively. Fred and George Weasley were inclined to be sceptical when Ron told them where he was headed and why. Hermione couldn't think why they would be so.
Because they really did have music lessons— Hermione and Ron had intentionally scheduled them on that day and hour because they wanted to see the werewolf cure being administered (at least Hermione did, very badly), and they needed to be in a discreet location in order to do that, as the event was a secret. The two couldn't go to the test site itself, as they weren't involved in the cure's development like Julia and weren't donating their blood like Harry, who happened to have the same blood type as Professor Lupin.
"I thought you can only donate blood if you're an adult," said Hermione after she learned Harry's part in the testing. "And don't you have anaemia, Harry?"
"I'm not donating an entire pint," said Harry. "The healers don't know how much blood you need in order for the treatment to be effective, so they're varying the amounts."
"I see," said Hermione. "So why can't we donate blood? Won't the healers need all sorts of blood types?"
"Yes, and I'm not sure exactly," said Julia. "I asked Dumbledore, and he said there's more to the cure than just giving blood to someone—something about the donor needing to know the recipient personally."
"Why is that?" asked Ron.
"That is what I don't understand," Julia said. "Anyway, assuming he's right—and he probably is—then the only person we can donate blood to is Lupin, and the only person who has the right blood type for it is Harry."
Hermione had been deeply disappointed at the prospect of never seeing the event until Julia said she could stream her memory of the event live over the MMN. Julia and Harry proceeded to spend the week prior to the event learning how to do it. While the two worked on that, Hermione and Ginny formulated their excuses—Hermione and Ron would use their music lessons, and Neville and Ginny would use their four-poster beds to watch after everyone in their dorm fell asleep. Hermione could barely sleep during that week, so excited was she at the prospect of witnessing history being made.
On D-day, Harry left Hogwarts after dinner, claiming that he was heading off for his biweekly trip to London, and Julia slipped away quietly at some point in evening. No one appeared to think their absence was odd. Hermione and Ron left the Gryffindor common room as soon as they could. It took them longer than usual, as the twins needed a forceful hand (i.e. Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex).
"Don't know why they are like that," Ron grumbled as they hurriedly made their way to the third floor. "They know I spend half of my life in the music room."
"Do you think they know what we're up to?" said Hermione worriedly. "This is supposed to be secret! What if—"
"Is it necessary a bad thing, Fred and George suspecting?" said Ron. "I mean they might take the mickey out of us, sure, but they won't spread bloody rumours or some such rot." He thought about it for a moment. "Actually, I don't want them to take the mickey out of us, either. It'll be hell."
Hermione snorted as they entered the music room. Immediately Hermione noticed there were five Miss Jacquelines instead of the usual maximum of four. Hermione instantly spotted the cause.
"Aren't you supposed to be, um, somewhere else?" she asked.
"Still got time," said Dr. Robert without looking up. He was simmering something that was a delicious shade of golden-brown in a stainless-steal saucepan. There was a Miss Jacqueline sitting in a chair nearby, her arms folded over the backrest. She was frowning at the array of ingredients placed in custard cups and square plates painted to look like sides of a dice.
"I don't need feeding, Robert," said this Miss Jackie.
"Of course you don't," said Dr. Robert agreeably. "I wouldn't dream of feeding you. Open your mouth and let the broomstick in didn't even cross my mind. Nope, not at all."
Miss Jackie scowled. "You know perfectly well how I react to certain grains, land animals and their—"
"—edible byproducts," said Dr. Robert, grinning broadly. "I don't like them either, lack of allergies aside."
One of the free Miss Jacquelines ushered Hermione into an available screen as Dr. Robert set his sauce on fire.
"Are you the real Miss Jackie or a clone?" Hermione asked.
"Clone," the Miss Jackie duplicate replied pleasantly.
Hermione thought as much. Miss Jacqueline's clones felt more … wooden than the original, particularly when Dr. Robert was around.
Hermione practiced playing the flute rendition of Gabriel's oboe that evening. She quickly became frustrated because her efforts didn't sound as beautiful as the ideal version she had in mind. Miss Jackie's clone's rather predictable encouragements only made her more irritated.
"I want to learn from the real person," she complained. "It's just not the same."
The clone smiled sadly.
Hermione took a break about halfway into her lesson. By that time, there was only one straggler in the music room besides Ron. She was one of the younger students who'd taken to following Harry around in the corridors like a lost duckling back when the Heir of Slytherin terrorized Hogwarts. Most of those students went on with their lives after the Basilisk got vanquished, but this girl lingered, even continuing the music lessons many had started to stay in Harry's proximity in the evenings.
"Hello Luna," said Hermione cautiously.
Luna Lovegood turned her large, protuberant eyes at Hermione, who tried not to stare too obviously at the radish earrings, the necklace of Butterbeer corks or the wand tucked over her ear. In her hands was an open copy of the Quibbler, and it was upside down.
"Oh, hello," said Luna. "I wasn't expecting anyone here in this hour."
That's my line, Hermione didn't say. "This was the only time I could have my lessons this week."
Luna nodded. "I've been told you're often very busy."
There was prolonged moment of awkward silence.
"Do you, um, normally have lessons this late?" asked Hermione.
"Yes," said Luna. "It's always peaceful and I get to sing to the moon."
"…Why do you sing to moon?"
"To call a Crumple-horned Snorkack," said Luna placidly. "They love singing and the moon."
Hermione knew she didn't avoid talking to Luna for no reason; clearly her aura of dottiness was not just show.
"Crumple-horned Snorkacks don't exist," Hermione scoffed.
"Yes they do," Luna insisted. "I read it in the Quibbler."
"You read that rubbish and actually believe what it says?"
"Excuse me," said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. "My father's the editor."
Hermione felt abashed. "Oh, I—well, the articles are interesting, I suppose…"
A Miss Jackie came over before embarrassment could overtake her. "It's time for your lesson, Luna," she said.
"That would be my cue," said Luna coldly, then she turned heel and disappeared into one of the many noise-cancelling screens. The Miss Jackie who called in Luna followed her inside.
Hermione returned to her own screen. The Miss Jackie clone there resumed the latter-half of her lessons soon afterwards. Hermione spent most of it quite distracted, as she couldn't wait to watch the werewolf cure testing. It was the first time she felt like time was going too slowly in a long while.
Hermione left her screened enclosure as soon as she put her flute away. She immediately noticed Dr. Robert was no longer there. In fact, the music room looked empty. The tall windows showed the darkened sky, and the few stars that were making an appearance. The full moon, however, had not yet risen.
Hermione waited a few heartbeats. Ron eventually jumped out of his screened enclosure and joined Hermione in her anxious waiting. Miss Jackie closed down the music room and banished her clones. Then she set up her MMN phone to project to a clear wall, and arranged the chairs for them to sit.
They didn't have to wait very long before Miss Jackie's phone lit up.
The holograph showed a sparsely furnished room that had chalk-white walls and a long, narrow skylight on the ceiling. There were about thirty some people inside. Most of them looked ill and grey, and wore expressions of restlessness, anticipation and doubt. There was also a fretful-looking woman wearing purple robes holding a little boy and a thin old man who bore a remarkable resemblance to Professor Lupin. Standing next to this man, nervously plucking at the plaster on his arm and talking to Sirius, was Professor Lupin.
The scenery changed. Now the holograph showed a different room. It was dimly lit and there was a glass window running the entire length of a wall. Harry and Julia were sitting in front of that window, and they were looking at Hermione, Ron and Miss Jackie's direction. Behind the two, on the other side of the glass, they could see the thirty people from the previous scene.
"Hello," said Harry.
"Where are you?" asked Ron.
"No idea. We took a portkey to get here, and they didn't tell us where we are."
"Why all the secrecy?" asked Hermione.
"Just in case," said Julia. "Coming here for treatment means you're a werewolf, right? Even if the treatment works, the fact that you were a werewolf before but didn't tell anyone might have negative consequences. I mean, the Ministry of Magic for one might give you a stiff fine for not alerting the Werewolf Registry."
"Why would anyone want the Ministry to know they are a werewolf?" said Hermione indignantly. "They make you relocate to a werewolf halfway house and tell all your neighbours, friends and family that you're a werewolf. That's no better than going to prison."
"Well, I'm sure there are people who appreciate how this measure would theoretically keep them safe from lycanthropy," said Harry dryly. "Anyway, everyone got their blood transfusion. Dumbledore invoked a ritual while the Healers did it: Blood of a friend, willingly given, and you will restore your beloved…"
"Sounds creepy," said Ron.
"Actually, I thought it made perfect sense," said Julia softly.
"How?"
It was difficult to decypher the expression Julia put on. It was as if she had turned into a different person without any outward physical change.
"This is my blood shed for you," she murmured cryptically.
Everyone went silent afterwards. Hermione was acutely aware of the sound of the clock ticking as she kept switching from looking at the window and the holographic projection of the werewolf treatment testing site.
Several minutes pasted. The sky turned darker and darker in meantime. Ron kept fidgeting and vibrating his leg, much to Hermione annoyance. Miss Jackie hummed to herself. Harry and Julia just watched the people pacing at the other side. Occasionally, the two looked up at the dark skylight.
Then roughly at around nine, the full moon crept above the Forbidden Forest's canopy.
Hermione stared breathlessly as the light of the full moon poured in through the skylight, illuminating both the room and the occupants. All the occupants looked up, staring at the moon apprehensively.
No one changed. Not even one.
Hermione let out a shuttering breath as slowly, one by one, the ex-werewolves looked at themselves in astonishment and then at each other. An incredulous, disbelieving noise grew in crescendo as they started to touch their bodies, still in human form despite the full moon. The woman in purple began to weep loudly as she held her boy tightly.
A little ways behind the woman and boy were three men. It was Sirius and the old man who greatly resembled Professor Lupin huddling around a third person. Though you couldn't see him, but you could tell who it was.
"Ohmygosh it worked," Harry breathed, hand over his mouth and eyes shining. "I can't believe it actually worked."
Julia didn't say anything; she was too busy crying into her hands.
What happened afterwards was a blur. Hermione vaguely recalled Dr. Robert telling the test subjects the follow ups he needed them to show up for, in order to see how long the treatment's effects would last. Hermione didn't know when Miss Jackie left, but she was nowhere to be seen by the time she and Ron prepared to return to the Gryffindor tower.
A familiar, dreamy voice halted them in their tracks:
"That was lovely."
Hermione and Ron whirled around to face the owner of the voice. Luna? Luna Lovegood was still here? How?
For a few seconds the two of them just silently sputtered at Luna, who looked at them as though she was regarding a mildly interesting television show.
"What… how…" Ron gibbered.
"You're not supposed to see that!" Hermione squawked in dismay. "It was supposed to be a secret! Oh, please, please, don't tell anyone—"
"It's alright," said Luna, unfazed. "I won't tell. No one will believe me even if I did. Most people think I only believe in impossible things, you know. That's why they call me Loony Lovegood."
Hermione started to let go of the breath she was holding. Perhaps it was going to be alright, after all.
But then Luna's next bland comment made her heart stop:
"By the way, you play Nella Fantasia very well."
-oo00oo-
Final Notes: The long awaited werewolf chapter and a Tonks & Lupin scene … Even Luna enters the picture at last! I am so happy. I'm sorry for the month wait. But my crazy summer is almost over—I only have a half-marathon to run in three weeks. I plan to return to the previous update pace afterwards.
Nella Fantasia ("In My Fantasy") is a song based on the theme "Gabriel's Oboe" from the film The Mission (1986). I'm not crazy about the song, but "Gabriel's Oboe" is one of the most beautiful pieces of music I've ever heard.
I sincerely apologise for what I'm going to do next.