Harry Potter, Sherlock Forbidden

Sherlock lay awake on the small couch of 221B, scanning the ceiling with utter boredom. It was 2AM, John was fast asleep in his bed, Mrs Hudson's snores drifted through the floor board in silent waves, and the sound of the odd car on the other side of the Red brick wall.

His phone sat tauntingly on the floor, forcing him to wait for the inevitable buzzing. He hated waiting.

What was he waiting for you may ask? A case. Lestrade had accidentally said he would get Sherlock a sublime murder to solve, which was proving to be a difficult task, as Sherlock hadn't heard anything from Lestrade, updates such as "Going Great!" and "Want a coffee?" and "Where did Anderson say he was going again?" did not count in Sherlock's mind. It was simple chit chat, worthless, and he wasn't going to bother answering.

Then finally, it happened. The dark room illuminated with a pale glow, Sherlock's eyes shot open, as he scrambled for his phone. He opened one eye as he stared at the white screen, shielding his eyes from the screen. It took a moment for his slate eyes to adjust, but finally the thin grey lines grew taller and clearer. "Hi, from Orange! Update your phone this month and get £20 credit Free!" Sherlock groaned in frustration, his hand clenched into a fist, jaw clenching in anger, he swung his hand round, throwing the phone at the wall with too much force. He watched it shatter as it collided with the Vandalized wallpaper. He growled as he realized what he had just done, and without thinking, he drew his shoulder back, elbow hiding behind him, and swung forward, as a shooting pain crushed his knuckles. He yelled in frustration, cursing himself for not thinking it through. His Han was quickly turning blue, with unnaturally large bumps lining his hand.

"Broken." He whispered to himself.  
By then John had stumbled in, confusion etched upon his solemn face.

"W-what happened?" He asked, exhaustion drowning his breath.

"Oh isn't it obvious, John? I punched a wall!" Sherlock replied slyly, gesturing the dint in the wall. John shuck his head, snatching Sherlock's had away and examining it.

"Yep, broken, better go get that sorted, and, uh, what happened to your phone?" He asked, casually gesturing to the glass and plastic laying on the back of the sofa.

"I threw it at a wall."

"Why?!"

"Because it annoyed me." John shook his head in disbelief.

"Do you realize these things cost money?!" He groaned, pulling his hand through his hair.

"Yes." Sherlock replied simply, stumbling into the kitchen.

"What are you looking for now?"

"Tea." John rolled his eyes as Sherlock fumbled around the kitchen.

"Hospital, Sherlock, Now!" He exclaimed, shooing Sherlock down the stairs. Sherlock struggled to pull on his coat with his bleeding hand, but eventually, he had it on. They could hear the shuffling of feet behind Mrs Hudson's door, but Sherlock chose to ignore them as he swung the door open and strutted out into the street, John following behind sheepishly.

*

John was sat in the waiting room, Smiling as he heard Sherlock critize every flaw in the office. He couldn't help but chuckle as he heard the Doctor sigh with exasperation.

John was used to the eiry smell of disinfectant, the walls were all a grimy beige, once white, but had faced years of abuse. The grey carpets stretched down the hallway, stained in places. John avoided eye contact with the other people in the room, which included a mother and her bawling baby, a young couple who were arguing in quick hisses, an elderly woman who had seemed to dozed off, and a worried looking, balding middle aged man.

Suddenly the doors swung open, as Lestrade strode in, his face full of seriousness.

"Where is he?" He demanded, sitting down next to John.

"In there," He replied. "He broke his hand punching a wall, apparently it annoyed him." John stated, sighing heavily. Lestrade nodded slightly, as he picked up a magazine and pretended to read it.

"There has been a murder... I think you two would be pretty interested." He whispered, not taking his eyes off of the magazine.

"I tried to contact you, but he wasn't answering his phone."

"Yeah, he threw that at the wall too, Mrs Hudson isn't going to happy when she sees that dent..." John trailed off, glancing at the magazine. He had to double take when he saw the article.

"London's Top Ten Couples? Why the hell are me and Sherlock number 1?!" HE half yelled, snatching the magazine away from him. "How are we before Will and Kate?! We aren't even a couple." Lestrade chuckled at John's amazement. John glared at him, and... if looks could kill...

"I am _not _gay!" He growled through gritted teeth. Lestrade chuckled again.

"Alright, Alright!" He laughed, putting the magazine down. Just then, Sherlock swung the doors open, which hit the wall with a mighty clash. He strutted forward, his hand had a bandage wrapped around it.

"What's the case?" He asked, as John and Lestrade jogged to keep up with him.

"A man has been found dead, dropped dead in the street, no cause, on lookers said there was just... a green flash..." Lestrade explained.

"Fantastic! The game is on!" Sherlock grinned.

*

Sherlock was crouched on the floor, inspecting a rather odd chip of wood that he had found. It had a pattern carved into it, and one side glowed with silver strands.

Molly Hooper was standing sheepishly behind him, scribbling on her notepad, just as two women walked up and stood either side of her. One was short, with chocolate brown hair tied into a bun, big caramel eyes and small smile on her thin lips; the other was a tall blonde woman, with bright blue eyes and a curvy figure.

Molly spun round, to look at the pair.

"Hermione Granger, I'm here to pick up the evidence." The dark haired one said, confidence ringing in her Voice. Molly looked at the other woman,

"Fleur Weasley, I am 'ere to take over ze body, It iz my job to run him through ze tests." She said in an thick French accent. Molly frowned.

"Hi, I'm Molly Hooper, and I will think you find that that is my job." Molly answered smugly. Sherlock stood up and span around to face the three women.

"Sherlock Holmes." He introduced, shaking their hands.

"I'm Hermione Granger and this is my Sister in law, Fleur Weasley." Hermione beamed.

"Yes, we are ere to begin ze process, i am afraid you have been called off, goodbye." Fleur said slyly, Molly's hopeful eyes suddenly went empty for a moment, all the thoughts had been drained. She nodded and walked away.

Hermione frowned, and whispered rapidly.

"Did you just use you know what in front of a muggle?! Oh, i swear if it's not the Confudus Charm i will jin-" She stopped suddenly, turning to Sherlock.

"Yes, um, if you could just run along that would be..." She trailed off.

"Illogical?" Sherlock finished. "What did you do to Molly?" He growled, cornering the pair.

"Nothing, she must just be under the weather or..." Hermione began. Sherlock shook his head, and walked back over to Lestrade.

"You realize I will have to report all this to Arthur, right?" Hermione snapped once Sherlock was out of earshot. Fleur simply laughed.

"Ze muggles don't look, zey wont notice on tiny spell, just let it go 'Ermione, it is really not zat bad!" Fleur retorted. Hermione couldn't help but let out a weak laugh.

"Are you serious? That is Sherlock Holmes! He can figure out anything, you complete and utter idiot!"

"Harsh" Fleur replied,turning away and striding up to a man with a short dark beard and wide black eyes, to seduce him into letting her examine the body no doubt.


End file.

Harry Potter, Sherlock, Drama, Romance