Harry Potter, Sherlock 1. My neighbors are what?

**A/N:** I've been going back and forth over creating a crossover with this particular setting for little over a month. Leobutler (aka Ciera) kicked my butt in the direction I needed to go. Now, I will be honest right here; I have not seen the BBC series. However, I am a huge fan of the original works and will _attempt_ to incorporate what I do know from Wikipedia and various Johnlock fics (most are exceptionally well-written and a few even brighten my day when I need them; not to mention they're a guilty pleasure of mine) that I've read. I'm on the original Hound of the Baskervilles right now and I have to say it is so good. As for the request that this be a Snarry & Johnlock? My brain decided upon a Snarry/Johnlock, meaning that while the original pairings asked for are established, there will also be a gradual change to a foursome. Ooo, mentions of Mycroft/Kingsley as I have never seen this pairing before. I like Kingsley; he's a reliable character that I have regrettably ignored! I hope you enjoy this. Please be gentle as this is my first crossover fic of Sherlock and HP. Oh, as for those of you looking for a time-line on the Sherlock end? It's in-between seasons. Ignores the Epilogue, making this yet another EWE. Words with this (*) at the end of them will be explained at the bottom in fuller detail.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC**_. As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. This also applies to the blood and disturbing scenes farther down in the text as well. Ooo, Donovan-bashing too, if you don't like her, great. If not? Suck it up. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw DMMWw DMMWw DMMWw**

**Ex-Soldier, Doctor, Lover**

It occurred to Dr. John Watson that after he'd become flatmates with the eccentric Sherlock Holmes that their neighbors in 221 A never complained about Sherlock's odd habits, which included the wretched screeches of his violin at 3 in the morning. His own schedule was so hectic after he'd met Sherlock but he'd never been happier or more thrilled to be alive. Living with the man was an adventure by itself; bar the odd fingers in the milk or moldy bread on the kitchen counters. John was just glad he left the tea alone. He'd yet to officially meet their neighbors and Sherlock gave him the perfect excuse.

* * *

As it so happened, Sherlock poisoned the sugar they currently had and John needed it to make the one thing Sherlock would sit down and eat without complaint; sopapilla. He marched over to 221 A and knocked on the door. A tall, dark-haired man in his early thirties opened the door.

"May I help you?" the deep voice had John nearly moaning. Damn, whoever lived with him was one lucky person.

"Umm, yes actually. I live in the flat next door and well... My flatmate's poisoned the sugar again. I was wondering if I could have some of yours?"

"Sev, it's rude to stare. Hello then, name's Harry. Yes you may have some sugar." The other dark-haired male was shorter than the one who'd answered the door but was a lot more open. "I'm surprised to see you still here. Sherlock usually chases them out by the end of a month; sometimes even less." John laughed as he accepted the container of sugar from Harry and shook hands with the green-eyed man.

"I'm tougher than I look Harry. I'm Dr. John Watson, but call me John. I have enough of my title at the bloody clinic."

"Wonderful. John, this is my partner Severus. Say hello politely and then you can stop murdering John here with your glare."

"Pleased to have met you, Dr. Watson." This handshake was brisk and neat, the warm touch gone before he could register that very fact. "Harry, order pizza. I have an experiment I'm busy with." The taller man instantly turned on his booted heel and left them standing in the hallway.

"Ignore Severus. He's always like that. Sev, I'm leaving to hang out with John!" Harry told him in a fond voice before he snagged the keys on the hook and shouting to his flatmate.

"Do as you wish, Harry. I am currently engrossed in trying not to get blown up..." With that statement, Harry closed the door and grinned.

"He sounded a bit like Sherlock when he said that." John snickered as they headed back to the flat he shared with the resident consulting detective. He labeled the container 'Sopapilla Sugar' so that Sherlock would not be tempted to poison that too with some strange substance. John also left a note that he was going out with one of their neighbors. Harry grabbed the familiar black and green leather duster from the hook in the hallway. "Oh. So that one's yours. Sherlock's never sure which one belongs to which person."

* * *

They walked to the pub, chit-chatting about various things but the conversation quickly turned back to the subject of his flatmate (as well as ridiculous crush).

"Hmm, we've been here for quite some time before Sherlock. He's... quirky. You're going grey and spare over him, aren't you?"

"That he is. You don't look a day over twenty-seven yourself." he commented wryly, absently massaging his arm.

"I'm actually thirty-one. Sev's a cantankerous old bastard at fifty-one." Harry shared with yet another grin as they entered the pub. "Lager or ale?"

"Lager." he muttered, sitting down to claim a table.

"Don't let his age fool you, though. He's amazing in bed." John choked slightly on his warm beer, coughing as he cleared his lungs. "Oops. Have I offended you terribly?"

"No! No, it's just... It's been a while since I've had any." His mind happened to go to the gutter for a moment. "I-Erm-I go both ways."

"Ah. So... Got a bird?"

"I did have one. Sherlock scared her off with his deductions." he hummed absently as he swirled his drink.

"A jealous Sherlock. I envy you the sight." Harry rolled his eyes as a woman sat nearly in his lap. He re-directed her with a firm hand. "Really. I just said I bat for the other cricket team and a gel just plops herself down."

"Sherlock could've told you something along the line of dead-beat dad and needing an older figure..." he admitted, enjoying the company of the younger man. "Have they ever met, by the way? Severus and Sherlock." Brilliant green eyes crinkled at the edges as Harry outright laughed.

"No! The similarities are hilarious when you point them out though. Dark-haired geniuses who tend to think most of the population is stupidity embodied, conduct experiments when we're not looking, extremely tall and both have a rather cruel streak when they're offended. I take it Donovan has yet to recover from Severus's tongue-lashing?" John frowned as he recalled her recent attitude; she'd been unusually polite to Sherlock. "That would be a no then? Good. Had the audacity to call Sev a bloody pedophile..."

"What did he say? She was-Dare I say it-nice to Sherlock." Surprise registered in the handsome face of his neighbor.

"He must have hit home then. It doesn't happen very often, but he's uncannily like your flatmate detecting things that the normal public would never pick up on." Harry murmured as he unconsciously checked where the exits were.

"Which war were you in?" the question was blurted out before John could hold his tongue.

"Mycroft would know but I don't suggest you ask the pompous prat. He's rather like a friend of mine..."

* * *

Of course, Sherlock was staring at the sugar container as though it held the Mecca of all answers to his cases when he got back.

"You went out with the younger one, didn't you?" Sherlock hovered, something he didn't do unless John went out on a date with a decent woman.

"Yes. He and I had a chat, actually, about how similar our flatmates are." He shooed the taller man away from his key ingredient. "Please tell me you didn't stick arsenic in the cinnamon. The sugar laced with rat poison was bad enough."

"I saw the label." Thankfully that was a resounding 'no' in Sherlock speech. He went about clearing the various experiments (putting them on a small end table he'd bought just for that) and casually checked the milk for fingers. "I bought new milk."

"Only because you like my sopapilla." John worked absent-mindedly, humming a song he'd heard on the radio. "Sherlock why do you scare away all of the women I date?"

"I do not scare them away. They are too stupid to keep up with my deductions and I can't stand stupidity. Anderson is all I can take on a daily basis. You're about the only other person who can keep up with me besides this Moriarty fellow."

"...Nevermind. Harry says you should eat more." Cobalt eyes locked with tawny flecked hazel as Sherlock cocked his head to the side as if John were a particularly difficult puzzle to solve. John, on the other hand, was embarrassingly hard underneath his plain white baking apron. Sherlock was sexy when he wanted to be... Those thoughts were roughly yanked into the box of naughty images that John kept in his mind. Why oh why did he not have sex anymore? Randy thoughts about his flatmate were very, very _bad_. Sherlock stood up and literally walked him into a wall. "Umm, Sherlock? The sopapilla's going to burn." He blurted, pointing to the consulting detective's favorite dessert. Pulling it out was a matter of seconds and then it was in the fridge. It helped that Sherlock had stopped that rather sexy staring thing-Which he was back to doing. "Sherlock, stop that."

"Stop what?" The intensity of the stare had not diminished as his flatmate put up an innocent façade.

"You're staring at me again." John snapped, valiantly ignoring the pink tint in his cheeks as he scurried into the bathroom (having nicked his pajamas from his room) and locked the door. "_**Bugger**_."

"John, you're behaving like you're infatuated with me."

"I am _not_!" he shot back venomously, scrubbing rougher than was necessary on his left leg. "This is one of those times that you need tact, Sherlock. Talking like this is not done in regular society." he snarled, his thoughts tangled. Good thing he had Harry's number. He stormed out of the shower with his pajamas slightly damp and his hair still dripping.

"John? I'm sorry." Sherlock muttered, twisting his scarf with slender fingers. "I shouldn't have pressed."

"My mind's not here right now, Sherlock. I just need some space." he sighed, scrubbing his hair with his towel. "The hours of the clinic and chasing after you does have a toll, you know."

* * *

John took the lift to the roof for some privacy. He dialed Harry's number on his cell as he stood on the roof, tapping out a rhythm on the metal bar surrounding the roof as the phone rang.

"Hello? Oh. John, what's wrong?" the green-eyed man sounded genuinely concerned.

"Sherlock. He's been hovering."

"And that's a bad thing?" he heard the curiosity in Harry tone. "Severus, put Estragon down. He's _not_ to be fed another poison! Sorry."

"It's fine. Sherlock only hovers when he's jealous. He was staring at me throughout dinner... He figured out that I'm attracted to him." John blurted, blushing as his mind recalled Sherlock's intense cobalt stare. "I snapped at him."

Harry sighed over the phone before he heard a thump and pages rustling, "John, has this been happening for a while? Answer me honestly."

"I... Yes, yes it has. I've been attracted to him since I saw him solving the serial suicides."

"Basically since your first meeting. Interesting... But you should tell Sherlock the truth. Babe, not now. No it's John. Severus, don't you-"

John heard Severus over the phone, "Just kiss the prat already. He's socially inept when it comes to relationships of this kind. You'll have to lead him. I've had some experience in the matter. I'll put Harry back on."

"Merlin, Severus! You couldn't leave it _**be**_, could you? I'm sorry." Harry's indignant tone had John laughing.

"No, I needed that. Thank you." He hung up, taking the stairs back to his flat and opened the door.

* * *

Sherlock was curled up on the couch misery plain in the usually unreadable sapphire eyes.

"John, I was-"

"Right. I do have feelings for you. It took me a bit to admit it to myself." he cut off the genius and sat down next to his flat-mate. "Sherlock, I'll be up-front with you. What is it you want out of this?"

"I... This is highly unusual. I don't even know what it is I'm feeling. You're my favorite mystery. I can never quite figure you out."

"Sherlock, I didn't mean what I said earlier. Umm... Oh, forget it." He lunged forward and kissed Sherlock, almost purring as Sherlock opened his mouth. "Mmm, was it good?" A light blush spread across Sherlock's gorgeous cheekbones.

"I haven't had any to compare it to." John closed his mouth with a sharp click. "What?"

"You-That was your first ever kiss?"

"Yes. I really do not see why there is all the fuss about it. In fact, now that it's over with, I'd like another." The surprisingly shy grin that graced the other man's features had John smirking before coaxing a second, third and fourth from his new boyfriend.

* * *

Donovan's jaw dropped as they came into New Scotland Yard with interlaced hands.

"I _knew_ it." she hissed vindictively. "Freak corrupted the Normal." John laughed at her assumption. "Think it's funny, do you?"

"Yes actually. I was the one who kissed him not the way you were so obviously thinking." he informed her dryly, a sneer directed her way. "Didn't Lestrade need you for something, Sherlock?"

"I like the look. Your dry humor is what did her in, I see." Molly Hooper spluttered as she sprayed her coffee out of her nose. "The coroner as well? Hmm, maybe I should let you tag along on some of the more boring cases." John rolled his eyes and tugged on the slender hand, headed in the right direction. "John... You're ruining my fun."

"That's the point, genius." he murmured fondly, pressing him against one of the boring beige walls. "I'm a jealous bastard, Sherlock, so don't even think about it." Hardened cobalt eyes softened as Sherlock leaned down and planted a warm kiss on his lips. "Hmm, can never get enough of you."

"Did you call me by a pet name?"

"Maybe." he defended, smiling when Sherlock answered him with a wry grin.

"I like it." Detective Inspector Lestrade cleared his throat as he opened the door right beside them. "Yes, Lestrade?"

"You're going to like this." An eyebrow rose as Sherlock leaned into his touch, seeking out the contact like a cat rubbing against legs.

"Boring. Skip to the good part already, Lestrade." Sherlock huffed, rolling his eyes. "And don't put Anderson on the case. His stupidity is contagious in a way I don't like."

"It involves Special Unit W as well." John blinked as he saw Harry in his leather duster and Severus leaning against the wall, also in leather, with his arms crossed. "You know each other?"

John couldn't help laughing before he replied, "We're neighbors. Severus and Harry live in 221 A." Greg's eyes widened.

"Oh."

"See what I mean?" Sherlock put in, shaking his head at Greg's moment.

* * *

**Self-diagnosed sociopath, Consulting Detective, Lover**

Sherlock appreciated that John had tightened the grip on his hand. The two in front of him made him fidgety; both had clearly been in some type of conflict and the taller of the pair was also the dominant in the relationship. That was as obvious as the silver Celtic knotwork on their marriage bands. Not only that but they were clearly used to working together with complete strangers. The taller male's hand strayed toward what was clearly either a knife or weapon sheath.

"Conflict, something Mycroft can't tell me about, series of murders without a single mark on the person, all associated with Special Unit W. Did I get all of it? Ah. There's the hidden black tattoos on the left arm that indicate some former cult membership or something very close to it." The shorter male grinned and nodded.

"Nicely deduced Mr. Holmes. Can I call you Sherlock? Name's Harry." The hand held out had oddly placed callouses, some from swordwork and the other from an instrument that was clearly slender as well as fashioned for the dominant hand.

"You may... If you tell me what caused the callouses there, there and on the end of your index finger on your right hand."

"DI Lestrade, if you will?" Lestrade closed the door before propping his feet up on his desk. "We're Wizards."

"Natural or in-born?" Sherlock asked, his mind going faster than it usually did. "There are communities that have that ability."

"Bit of both, actually. Severus is an Air Element Master as well as accomplished Potions Master and Special Agent. I'm a Fire Elemental Master, Auror, which is like DI Lestrade in the Wizarding World and Special Agent. As for the callouses? They're caused by a broom, a wand and a sword."

"I figured out the swordwork. The broom and... wand come as a surprise." Harry flicked out what appeared to be a holly stick that was highly polished and looked to be carved to fit the younger man's hand. "May I?" It was handed over without a flinch. He examined it before handing it back. "I know that it was intensely personal for you to hand over that object. I apologize if there was any discomfort." Often his work took him beyond the realm of the regular. John was taking it pretty well that their neighbors were of the supernatural. The answer, once eliminating all improbable solutions as well as the insane, was impossible but entirely probable. Magic was real.

"Wow. So who is it we're supposed to be catching?" John managed calmly, a small smile playing about the sensual lips.

"Male, late-thirties, dark-haired, wears boots and what appears to be like the scholar robes of medieval times. Thinks that those bearing the tattoo should pay for imagined crimes that have been made up in his mind. He's very clearly insane." he quipped. "Also appears to be quite the figure in your world; one of the objects he left behind was labeled with a word I'll not bother to pronounce but will write down." Sherlock stole the pen off of Lestrade's desk and grabbed a legal pad before writing down the words that plagued him for days now; Quidditch Captain: Montrose Magpies. "What do you make of that?" Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Dammit, Oliver."

"You knew him or still keep contact with him."

"Both. Sev, you'll have to do it."

"Arrest the snot who gleefully destroyed some of my finest cauldrons during his seventh year? It'd be my pleasure. Those bearing that particular Mark were children who did not know the Dark Lord and were merely underlings to the lowest of the Death Eaters... Merlin, they weren't even directly involved."

"You were part of them." Sherlock's mind clicked in place.

"Sharp one. No wonder they called you in. Maybe we could use you on some of our cold cases. But, yes, I was in the Inner Circle." The man shucked off the duster quickly and rolled up the sleeve of his casual black shirt. Cat hairs, probably from a Bengal cat, if the ticking was any indication. The tattoo was a deep grey in color. "It's called the Mordesmorde."

"Ah." Sherlock understood. "Mycroft is made of secrets. I'm not surprised he kept this particular one anymore."

"Mycroft... Oh." that one word held a world of understanding, but not a smidgeon of pity. Sherlock liked Harry more and more. "Guess we better go and apprehend Oliver before he does it again."

"He has an accomplice. Female, by the length of the hair and the genetic structure. Also dark-haired and most likely of Asian descent." Emerald eyes narrowed before taking on a colder color, chips of frozen jade that suddenly made Harry the greater threat.

"Chang. It figures."

* * *

Sherlock uses the excuse to tag along of course. His mind's been in over-drive ever since their neighbors revealed who and what they were. Mmm, John's lips had a mind-numbing quality he'd kill for right now. Of course, his boyfriend (why do such plebeian titles always manage to fit the cliché?) seems to read said mind and kissed him temporarily senseless as they wait for the pair to attempt another murder.

Sherlock's the bait, of course, as no one else fits the profile of who they're attacking better and he wants a close-up look at genuine madness. The fake tattoo feels very odd as though he can scrub it off with soap and a little work. Harry has assured him it won't do such a thing, dousing him with ice-cold water to prove it. He resents that slightly; deductions are empirical proof and he requires such to forward his cases. John's an excellent actor. He'd have to be, what with lying to his face for most of their time shared in the flat repressing his feelings.

"Genius, please tell me we're actually going somewhere that isn't seedy?" Sherlock smiles at the nickname his hidden wolf manages to create. He loves that John is combatting the hurt feelings that Donovan causes with her callous words. John's adept at hiding things; ferocity that would make anyone stupid enough to cross him shake, loyalty that would make the most-devoted of bootlickers cring and best of all? A love that Sherlock needed more than air. It was why John followed him on cases, even with his psychomatic limp and tendency save Sherlock from whatever villain of the day. Even as they're being tracked, evidently by the woman (deduced by the tap of ridiculously high stilettos and the rustling of dress slacks at a distance of no more than a meter) he feels safe with his wolf.

"Mmm, no. Tonight is a concerto of the concentrated kind."

"Violin or string quartet?" John's musically-inclined enough that he understands the very fundamental difference between the two.

"Violin, wolf."

"Wolf? Where'd you get that?"

"You're sneaky, you know, for being so open. Fierce, loyal and you love me unlike any other I've known." he whispered, sliding his slender hand up John's strong thigh. "Hidden wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Ah. She's pressing rather close." his boyfriend whispers back, interlacing their fingers, the concert hall maitre'd not even phased. The fool is blind to everything but subtle monetary tips and dangerous criminals. "Think we'll even make it through the first piece?"

"Through the fourth in the very least. She's not prone to the attacks her compatriot is, my wolf." Sherlock sighed as he closed his eyes to the first strains of Vivaldi. People gasp and make noises he thinks make them sound like the idiots they are. Really, it's not his fault most of the people he encounters besides John, Lestrade and his neighbors in 221 A are monumentally handicapped by that disease called stupidity.

* * *

She makes her move as they come back from a heavy snogging session in the darkest corner they could find.

"Move it, Death Eater scum. Step away from the Imperioused Muggle and hand over your wand." she hisses convincingly.

"Or what, Ms. Chang?" He's curious as to what action she will follow. Will she be a typical villain or be more creative and original, Moriarty-style?

"I'll do something worse than what you are doing to that poor man." Sherlock relaxes as Harry and Severus circle around, the other criminal already detained and knocked out, laughing as she becomes infuriated. "Stop that, you low-life. You have no right!"

"Harry, now would be a good time to remove it." he drawls casually, still wrapped around John like his favorite scarf. A swish, flick and thump are heard one after the other, her eyes full of an emotion Sherlock had experienced only once in his thirty-five years. Yes, Moriarty was obsessed but not truly demented as this witch was. "Caught at your own game. Doesn't feel very nice, does it?" _**BORING!**_ She acted as he'd predicted. It seemed criminals were all stupid, regardless of ability or where they came from...

"A Muggle? No, damn it, we were sure you-"

"Happened to be a member of the lowest of the low ranks of Death Eaters? Foolish gesture on your part, leaving evidence of your existence when your companion did not upon occasion. Crime scenes always leave trace amounts of _something_, be it hair or scent. I deduced you from those as well as your absurd fascination with heels. Trade-mark, yes, height of idiocy, yes; but the criminal always returns to the scene of the crime. See, John? Stupidity is rampant now more than ever." Sherlock quipped, picking up the willow wand and examining it with a detached curiosity. "Can I have this?" Harry chuckles softly and shrugs, "I don't see why not."

"Isn't it breaking the rules?" his wolf asks, a green eerily similar to Harry's concerned under furrowed golden brows.

"The criminals never get them back and we're actually tempted to break most of them if not for the craftsmanship put into them." Severus murmured quietly. "It is quite painful when a wand is snapped. We have a saying, 'The wand chooses the Wizard.' Perhaps we should get them tested?" John frowned even more as he slid a hand up Sherlock's thigh in clear retaliation for the concerto. "Tested? What for and why?"

Harry laughed and popped away while Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Sherlock often did in the presence of idiots, "Harry will be the death of me yet... I mean that sometimes Wizards do not develop at the age of eleven as is expected. Certain Talents do not require much magic but are highly prized in the Wizarding World. It appears you two classify as a rare Talent*."

* * *

Talents were trained very quickly, as some of them tended to be around the thirty to forty age-range. Sherlock had been separated from John with no explanation; now he was expected to answer some nit-wit's questionnaire? He growled in the back of his throat and crossed his arms.

"Sir, we really need you to-" John was thrust into the room with him, the nit-wit backing off as Sherlock inspected his wolf for damage. "_Oh_! Wow." He was still wrapped around John when he heard the startled tone. "You're the other set of Elementals... That explains a lot of your mood when we separated the pair of you."

"I'm telling you my wolf, idiots abound. This much stupid is like being around Anderson twenty-four/seven..." he whined into the lush tawny locks. "Make him go away. He's boring."

"You still haven't answered the questions?"

"No." he sniffed, staring at the parchment like it would write on itself.

"Why?" There is infinite patience behind the warm tone John takes with him.

"He expects me to use an antiquated tool that I have no idea of how to hold properly and did not explain it in the least." Sherlock knew he was being petulant. He only got this way around Mycroft and lately John.

"Come here. It's called a Dicta-Quill. You speak what you want your answer to be and direct it to the appropriate section of the questionnaire."

"Oh." Now Sherlock felt foolish, grumbling into a warm shoulder as he watched John finish the questions.

"Stop that, genius. Now it's your turn." He scowls at the quill (why even use them when there was an endless supply of biros to be had?) before dictating his answers. The parchment was quite a bit longer than John's. The fool stares at the nearly meter-long parchments and swallows sharply. A wave of what appears to be a cherry wood wand summons forth a silvery rabbit, nose twitching as the Wizard whispers to it. "Feeling better now?"

"He's staring at you like you're some sort of miracle." he huffs, nosing John's warm neck with relish. "My miracle." Sherlock can't help himself. John's just so comforting that the urge to ravish his mouth in front of the awe-struck man makes him mischievous.

"No, Sherlock." he frowns as John looks up with the serious hazel he adores so very much. "Deduce him but don't humiliate him."

"Middle child in a family of five, older brother's dead by the same conflict that shadows our neighbors, loves his work, is obsessed with our younger neighbor (a carry-over from the elder brother's), can't stand the woman who's cheating behind his back and wants nothing more than to call our results false because the parchments have never been that long for a Talent so very late in springing forth." he muttered into his wolf's ear, very tempted to lick the outer shell carefully.

"Anything else?"

"He's been outside no less than eight times this very afternoon to collect other raw Talent which clearly did not have as good results. His servant, likely one of those odd, bat-like creatures (house elf is such an unfit name for them), clearly adores him as his clothing is well-kept if a bit frayed due to wild spending on the cheating girl. Repairs are not frequent enough to suggest poverty on an extreme scale and he's been sucking cock recently."

John coughs at the last deduction and clears his throat softly, "What makes you think _that_, genius?"

"The semen in his hair and the way his face is pink, as if he's given it a good scrubbing. His lips are swollen and his breath is quite unsteady for such a stable job... Not to mention the carpet fibers of an expensive shag carpet imbedded into the cotton knees of the trousers." At that, John sniggered lightly.

* * *

"Mmm, you are so getting to second-base..." his wolf whispers into his ear, standing on tip-toes to be so close. "Kiss?" Sherlock obliges willingly as the tester chokes on the next intake of air. "I think we killed him."

"His mind is blown because he cannot fathom how much I cherish you for what you are; normal in a way I have never been." Soft laughter is his roommate's response this time as opposed to the embarrassed shuffling Sherlock would have expected once. He knows now that John's full of layers that never appear all at the same time.

"Yes and I appreciate your striking features and even sharper wit. It's not every day that you meet a genius." the words are truthful, warm in a way Mycroft has never managed to convey. A sudden pop and Sherlock is behind John, his boyfriend's imaginary hackles raised. Has he mentioned the reflexive protective streak? Huge turn-on.

"Relax. Creevey tells me you're quite close for a Talented pair." the deep voice is one he's familiar with.

"Kingsley?"

"The other Holmes... and Dr. Watson? Impressive. I see you've managed to break the record for the most Talents available to teach to you." Sherlock rolls his eyes at the response. "You're not Mycroft; of this I am well aware. He also had the Talent and he's put it to good use."

"Being the British Government requires a lot to keep going. Of course he took advantage of what he could from wherever he could get it." he explained as if Kingsley were a small, insufferable child. Which, in many ways, he still is; wand-waving is not something most of the British Government's employees are trained to do. Fixated on Mycroft of all people... Eternal optimism really was good for the Wizard pining after his brother. "However, keep your flame banked. He's got a thing for deep voices and chocolate." Slate-grey eyes narrowed thoughtfully and Sherlock knew this was the right man for his brother.

"Back to you and your Healer, Mr. Holmes. Dr. Watson has the Talent to Heal; Mind, Soul and Body. It's rare to find even one Talent in that field."

"What of my Talent?" he manages to ask through sheer audacity.

"Mind Talent... Specifically Seer..."

"What else is so bad that you will not say it out loud?"

"Localis Domine." the last part is whispered. "Suggestive mind control via water and earth." Sherlock tightens his hold lightly on John.

"No. I will not-"

"Sherlock, what is so wrong with the Talent?" John asks calmly from his place in Sherlock's arms.

"It takes away free will. Mycroft and I discovered it a long time ago. I've not thought about it years."

* * *

Of course, his immense mind manages to do two things at once; listen to the ongoing conversation while another, more sinister part slips past the walls of the fortress he's built around the memory...

_It's afternoon and two brothers, bound by blood and Talent (though they've no knowledge of it just yet) are playing in the Manor Garden. Mycroft (the elder by seven years) whispers to ten-year old Sherlock that he could be King if he wanted to. That people did things for them if they pushed into others with their minds._

_Sherlock, being the innocent he still is at this moment, does not like the look in his brother's eyes that are so very similar to what he sees in the mirror each morning. This isn't big brother talking of faery tales or knights that do as you ask when you have done them a favor most kind; no, what he sees is pure insanity._

_"No. I won't help you." he says, his soft cerulean eyes becoming cold and distant._

_"Come on, little brother. It won't hurt anything." Oh, the lure, the absolute **promise** in that voice. Sherlock resists with everything he has, standing between his brother and his lurid dreams._

_"No." Glacial white-blue meets midnight sapphire in a challenge that cannot be backed away from. "Find some other way. You promised it was for good; to help those who need it most."_

_"I... might have bent the truth. Just enough for you to see its potential." the tone is cheerful and it grates on every part Sherlock has in his possession._

_"I see it's wrong. What have you done?"_

_"Oh, a few manipulations here and there." The tone is light now but Sherlock can feel the oily Dark that is ever present recently in his brother's tone._

_"You're not Mycroft." He accuses, his castle in the sky in his mind safe from the ground-strikes of this **thing** pretending to be his brother._

_"Ah! You are smarter than I gave you credit for, much smarter. I like your castle. Where's it from?"_

_"Gulliver's Travels." Sherlock murmured, concealing his castle behind thorn and bracket, bramble and thicket, weaving an impenetrable fortress._

_"The walls?"_

_"Briar Rose and Rapunzel. By the way, checkmate." The creature's suddenly white eyes are anguished as Sherlock crushed it with all of the power he could feel. "Where's my true brother?"_

_"In his room, trapped in shadowed lies."_

_"Die."_

John touched his face gently with warm fingertips, pulling him from the only time in his life he'd ever used that power.

"Oh, Sherlock... You did the right thing, my genius, even if it does not seem so now or then." There is no pity in John's voice save for a brutal understanding even as the tumultuous memory slides over his.

_**Heat waves rise up from dunes that seem familiar yet hold no place in a man's mind. This particular village is silent save for the frantic medics and doctors doing their best to save the brave men and women that sacrificed everything for liberty. Blood spatters decorate everything; clothing, walls of adobe, staining the sand deep red as it seeped from bodies stacked ten high. John was numb. He had to be, seeing as he was bandaging wounds and inoculating soldiers the minute they were handed to him. It was an innocent nineteen-year old boy who reminded John too much of his sister that had released the restraint upon his own powers.**_

_**Power, pure and immense poured from somewhere deep within; a veritable ocean that overflowed. The wounds sealed up and it was as if the teen had never been injured. The amazed Evac-personnel had asked what he'd done, but John'd had no clue what that was a precursor to his hidden Talents. Then the surprise attack, John tackling one of his fellow medics into the sand and taking the bullet for him, black edging his vision...**_

Sherlock broke the connection slowly, easing out of John's mind without leaving any presence or injury.

"Oh." Again there is understanding, tempered with age and time. "You're an empath too." Sherlock allows calm (that only serves him well on cases that drive him batty) to surface but John rolls his eyes and swats his shoulder.

"No. I have more than enough. What I need is for you to be your usual, maniac self." comes a firm voice that Sherlock has termed the 'Doctor' voice. The color shifted with John's mood and at the moment, his eyes are once more the tawny flecked hazel that Sherlock finds particularly warming.

"Be careful what you wish for, my wolf." John flashed him a sweet smile.

"I know what I'm asking for."

* * *

John drags him to a humane shelter, muttering something about needing animal companionship.

"Why do we need a dog? Cats are much more self-sufficient."

"Cats hiss at you, Sherlock. How have you not noticed?"

"Estragon doesn't." he protests, a faint smile on his face as the Bengal familiar that twines about his legs comes to mind.

"That's because he's half-Kneazel. A dog is sweeter anyway."

"You just want more company that loves you unconditionally and won't leave you in the middle of a chase." Sherlock grumbles. "Dogs don't like me either. You know that, wolf."

"I beg to differ." comes the lightly sarcastic quip. "Do you have any puppies?" Sherlock suppressed a shudder as she eyed both him and John up like pieces of meat.

"Quite a few. Right this way, sir." Sherlock trails after John, taking in the sterile cages. One dog in particular catches his eyes. It looks half-wild, amber eyes looking up and seeming to display hopelessness. He leaves John with the excited woman (who is also cheating on her boyfriend, but to say that isn't polite and John's quite adamant about that now) chattering away about the cute little puppies. The dog sits up as he kneels before the cage.

"Hello. I bet you're bored." He's rewarded with a wolfish grin that somehow reaches his heart. "I'm taking you back to the flat with me. I don't care what John says. He can keep his puppy."

"Sir, that's not advise-" Sherlock ignores the panicky volunteer and pets the massive dog, his fingers sinking into lush fur. He hears a deep croon coming from his dog. Yes, this one would do nicely.

"Sherlock I found-Oh."

"Sir, I suggest you take you hand out of that cage. That's a wolf-hybrid and we have him scheduled for euthanasia."

"I'll take him." John smiles at his stubborn streak.

"It's-"

"I generally don't repeat myself." he sneers, itching to deduce the idiot trying to reach for the tranq-gun. "John, explain." His roommate rolled his eyes and took both of them gently by the elbows, explaining in his soothing voice. "You'll be Mozart." he comments casually to the hybrid. A quiet woof and wag of tail is his answer this time.

"He's never taken to anyone before, sir. Are you sure you want to take him?"

"Obviously. John, did you find your puppy?"

"Yes. Sherlock... You do realize we have to take them on leashes?"

"Mozart is smarter than your average dog, much like I am. It's why we get along so well." he explained to the confounded personnel.

"Mmmhmm. Where do we sign?"

* * *

**Lord, Healer, Husband**

Harry strode through the Ministry up to Kingsley's office; Sherlock and John had clearly been Talented.

"Ah, Harry. Just who I wanted to see! Your two boys shot through the roof with Talent. Holmes has got Localis Domine and Watson Cura Totolariat. It's the best Talent we've come across in years... They're unusual for an Elemental pair. Water and Earth are grudging allies _not_ infatuated with one another." The other Wizard sighed, sitting down with a thump on the cushioned chair.

"Sherlock is an enigma, Kings, and I've lived next door to him for nearly a decade. Of course, there's John to consider. He's the only tenant not grossed out too badly by the body-parts Sherlock keeps in the fridge for 'research' purposes." he says honestly. Kingsley can't _stand_ liars and Harry appreciates being able to exercise his Gryffindor side more. "Six tenants in less than six weeks makes him a bit unstable or they were absolute wankers about everything."

"I vote the latter theory husband. Chang and Wood are in Interrogation, Kings." The man sighs and rests with his head propped up with both hands like a bored teenager. "That means only one thing, my old friend. See something you want?"

"... Yes, yes I do. But Merlin on high, I can't tell if he bats for the other team or not! Sherlock said to keep up with what I'm doing." Severus chuckled as Kingsley thunked his head on the desk. "Bloody hell, Mycroft probably thinks I'm an idiot everytime I stutter when he stares at me. I don't even know what it is I'm doing right." the last is a rather quiet admission and Harry patted the Minister on the shoulder gently.

"Being yourself, Kings. You're unbelievably hot even when you're acting like a headless hippogriff."

* * *

The next time Harry sees the gorgeous pair is when John invites them over for breakfast, Sherlock even promising to behave if Severus spills his guts about the explosions. Estragon has become very fond of John (besides Harry reasonably) because all he does is pet the affectionate furball. Mozart and Gladstone also get along surprisingly well with his familiar.

"Estragon does not appreciate a different type of poison in every morning meal." Severus mutters as he sniffs his tea discreetly. "The insufferable beast also refuses to eat anything from my hands either."

"John too. Honestly, he says that hallucinogenics in his morning tea are not conducive to the hours at the clinic. Mozart won't open his mouth and Gladstone has picked up his example... Infuriating, I tell you."

"Harry's Warded all of our food. It is ridiculous. One corner of the bread was part of a Potion I was supposed to be developing and... He threw it _away_ because of _sanitary_ issues."

"I propose we rid ourselves of them; conduct an experiment upon bread, belladonna and its effects when mildly inhaled." Sherlock volunteered as he tears off pieces of Harry's carefully prepared waffles before taking a bite. "Mmm, nevermind. I'm stealing your green-eyed Wizard."

"Hmph. Imagine all you like, Holmes, Harry is my husband. Although I am tempted to abscond with your in-resident Healer."

"My wolf is loyal to me." The exchange is said softly as John absently dances to the radio and something feels warm in Harry's heart. Sherlock's expression softens and Severus raises an eyebrow as the other pair sway in place for a moment.

"What are you thinking about, little Seeker?" murmurs his husband as he snags Harry's waist.

"How utterly beautiful this all is. I want them, just as much as I wanted you on that battlefield over a decade ago." The Bond hums with deep contentment as Harry yields to his husband's gentle Legimency.

"I have a place in that heart of yours, husband mine. Do not forget it as we pursue our interests."

"Never even crossed my mind, Sev."

* * *

The pursuit of Sherlock and John had to be Slytherin subtle, not Gryffindor brashness. Harry knew this well as he'd employed the same strategy for Severus. However, it was hard to think when his husband kept running his hands up and down Harry's thighs.

"Severus... I can't think when you do that." he murmured softly, casually shifting so that his robes covered the erection Severus was giving him in yet another boring meeting that he would never remember anyway. Severus, even lust-addled, could remember everything said to him. He squeaked when Severus stopped as Mycroft Holmes came into the room.

"Ah, umm, Mr. Holmes... You weren't scheduled until near two."

"I thought I'd drop by a little early." the unspoken 'I wanted to see you like that' predatory look made Harry giggle. Kingsley was _so_ screwed.

* * *

Despite the meetings, Harry did love his job. Criminals were still criminals but his true job was Healing; specifically for those who could not afford St. Mungo's or did not care for it. House-calls were his specialty. He strode down the road from St. Ottery's Catchpole, avoiding the empty house that held so many memories. Luna wanted him to confirm her readings of twins. He knocked politely on the Lovegood's door and Luna greeted him sweetly.

"Hi, Harry."

"Luna." he scooped her up in a warm hug. "How's Rolf?"

"The Humdingers are in heat. He's studying them now." she replied serenely.

"Mmmhmm. Can I come in?" They sat down on the (surprisingly a duller color that the usual) lilac couch and Harry spread his fingers over Luna's gently rounded stomach. Two curious presences greeted his brush before he sent a pulse of magic throughout her womb. He grinned, looking up to see Rolf and Luna engaged in a heated snogging session. "Erm... That would be a yes, Lu." She waved him away impatiently, something Harry gladly complied with.

* * *

The accidental kiss was a surprise. It came several weeks after their first meeting but Harry still blushed at the memory.

_He scowled at the rain pouring down outside of his favorite café, The Lightning Strike. John laughed at his expression, mimicking him with a more ridiculous face than he probably was making. Two steaming cups of piping hot cocoa sat in front of them, half-finished as they chit-chatted. His phone rang and he yelped as his butt vibrated._

_"At your service, please hold on the Avada until after you have spoken."_

_"Harry, cut the crap. Do you know a Sherlock Holmes?" Ron snickered before he became serious._

_"Sherlock's invaded your crime scene. He's got Talent but don't get in his way. Clear the scene and wait. He's intelligent beyond anyone you've met besides Sev."_

_"He said that Dean was an idiot." Ron would take offense as Dean was his Auror partner._

_"He thinks **everyone** save for a few people he's close to is an idiot. Think nothing of it, he does it to everybody... Am I on speaker again?"_

_"Yes, you are. I have everything just about finished but I need your help as my Latin's a bit rusty. It might even be Italian. Is John on his computer?" Sherlock promptly answered._

_"Mmmhmm. What did you need translated?"_

_"Magus Erotica, il suo morte Domine. Io voglio tu; in bocca al lupo." Harry swallowed sharply and choked on his sip of cocoa._

_"Bugger."_

_"What?"_

_"I said, bugger. That's a threat against me. Is the victim dark-haired?"_

_"...Yes. What exactly was that?" Harry cursed again._

_"Actually, that was aimed at our marriage. Ron, hand the phone to Sherlock."_

_"I put it back on headset. I take it this is bad?"_

_"Not really, since we do get semi-regular death-threats. I've never had anyone kill in my name though, or mention the true extent of my abilities... They're obviously high in government if they're revealing that tidbit." He growled slightly at the thought of anyone threatening the happiness he had with Severus._

_"Ah. I suggest you look for a woman then. Heavy-set, most likely bow-legged, curly grey hair and wears kitten heels. Mmm, wait. You, go get me that fiber in the folds of the robe. The bright pink one. Wool, I think, and finely made. Do you know anyone fitting that particular visage?"_

_"Oh, sweet Merlin." **Umbridge?** He shuddered at the thought of ever getting close to her in that manner._

_"Impressive. I don't think I've ever seen that reaction in multiple men."_

_"She probably tortured half of the Auror Corps while she taught during my fifth year. Blood-Quills are nasty things to have on hand so casually as she did."_

_"I take it your friend will explain?"_

_"No. Just get out of there before her spies spot you."_

_"Understood." The line clicked as the call suddenly ended. He looked up and accidentally locked eyes with John. Fierce tawny-flecked hazel looked at him with what seemed to be admiration._

_"You care about him." John stated it rather than putting it into a question._

_"He's misunderstood. It's the reason I care so much; not many people can take constant derision."_

_"You'd do the same for me?" Harry had a mouthful of cocoa while he thought. Would he do the same for his fellow ex-soldier? He was incredibly sweet, funny and his features, while not particularly catching at a normal first glance, were something that would look beautiful in the throes of passion. In answer to this particular conundrum?_

_"Yes."_

_"Why?" Oh, John was also smart even if he kept it hidden behind sly remarks that Sherlock obviously found arousing._

_"Always the hardline hmm?" He leaned closer to tell John exactly what he thought when the door flung open from the squalling winds, shoving the older man into his lap and the warm chapped lips straight onto his own. The blissful pleasure made his magic slide over John in a manner it usually only reacted to when he was in the middle of being fucked by his husband. Ooo, bad time to start his Heat... They broke away sharply as the need for air came up, his lustful green eyes locking again with the burning hazel that was so very much a turn-on._

John avoided him for nearly two days, even turning in the opposite direction if he was around. The Heat rumbled, his magic concentrated on finding suitable 'Mates' that didn't back down at the first sign of danger. Severus was acutely aware that Harry considered their marriage very good... and he was quite alright with seducing the neighbors into their bed.

"Dammit, John, wait!" Harry'd had _enough_ of the evasion tactics. They were coming back after a walk.

"What? I didn't mean to-" John sputtered before Harry placed a hand over the sensual mouth. Gladstone whined and sat down, the sweet puppy obviously confused.

"Shh. I know you didn't but avoiding me isn't going to help it either. Especially not with my Heat starting."

John made a sound that was half-way between a rumble and a squeak, "Your _what_?"

"Heat." He spoke the word with utter calm.

"Whoa, umm, did I start it?"

"Mmm-mmm, but you did help it along. Listen. I need you to grab Sherlock from wherever he is. Bring him over and we'll explain."

"O-Okay. Let me feed Gladstone and Mozart. We'll be right over."

* * *

They sat across from John and Sherlock, Harry nibbling on his lower lip as he thought about the best way to explain his true nature.

"Merlin, where to start?"

"What is Magus Erotica?" Sherlock asked, a dark brow raised as he asked the question.

"That's what I am. Literally translated that's Erotic Mage, but it's more complicated that. We're essentially power boosters and hold more magic than an average Wizard or Witch can ever hope to attain within a century and a half. The thing is... All of that magic can get knotted if it stays inside of the Mage. It's happened on more than one occasion and I take months to recover if it does occur. So, nature came up with a solution; Heats. Heats are our way of unknotting the magic we have if it gets wound tight."

"Basically...?"

"I need to be relaxed. Which is where the sex comes in." John blushed and Sherlock's eyebrows rose in astonishment at his bluntness. "Don't look at me like that. It's completely natural and I'm built for it. Hell, the first one nearly killed me because I was denying myself... Sev saved my life."

"You denied yourself? How?"

"Umm, by using restrictions. It only made my Heat worse and noticeable to half the school. I was releasing pheromones at a rate I'm sure would do an animal proud." Harry never liked explaining that the only 'Mate' his Heat would accept was Severus, as it saw a potential stabilizer; he had denied himself by simply not looking at the man. That had gone about as well as a pound of bricks. "Madame Pompfrey Stunned me and basically demanded why I was doing so. Got sorted out quickly after that."

"You didn't have the relationship you do now back then."

"Understatement of the century. We hated each other's guts for existing in the same place... Can't really keep it up when you're both exhausted from round after round of Heat-induced sex though."

"So why are _we_ here?" John was straight to the point.

"It's decided to nominate the two of you."

"Whoa. Umm, is it... sentient?" was hesitantly asked.

"Sort of? I can't really explain it."

"Heat is semi-sentient. It can detect the fact that the pair of you don't back down in the face of danger. I would like to warn you ahead of time; Harry becomes a horny bastard, so I'd clear your schedules for the next few days." his husband murmured, kneading his shoulders to dispel the tension he held in them.

"Tell them about the other thing, Sev." he sighed as he relaxed. "I want them fully informed."

"Harry can get possessive-"

"Severus." he warned, not appreciating the stalling. "Merlin hang it all... I can get pregnant." Sherlock blinked, his brilliant cobalt eyes glazing over at the thought while John appeared thoughtful, brow furrowing.

"By all three of us?"

"Yes..."

"Then why-"

"I liked you before the Heat. Thought you ought to know that before we get 'involved'... if you even want to."

"'If you even want to' he says." John scoffed, scooting off of the couch and kneeling in front of Harry, taking his hands into the slender cool ones. "Harry, you're breath-taking. Anyone would be lucky to have you and I'm jealous of as well as for you because Severus is fucking _hot_." Severus looked at the ex-soldier with something akin to shock.

"I am not-"

"Oh, yes you are." Harry cut off his husband with a wide grin.

* * *

**Lord, Potions Master, Husband**

Severus couldn't deny the fact that all three men thinking of him in that manner was arousing; especially as searing cobalt, emerald and tawny-flecked hazel locked with his own obsidian gaze. Sherlock smirked as he gracefully strode over to them, plopping himself directly in Severus's lap.

"Harry, you are exquisite. Humbleness is a trait you don't often see in people who believe they're beautiful." quipped the younger man, sapphire eyes intrigued and full of desire more than anything. "And you... Well, your voice is just downright sin."

"Is that all?"

"Hmm, no. You've got a mind to rival mine, a killer instinct and... Mmm... A really, really delicious cock." Sherlock whispered as he straddled Severus's lap. "Mind if I taste you?"

"It depends on what you want." Severus purred back, his hands sliding up the long thighs to rest on Sherlock's hips. "Harry?" His husband smiled gently and coaxed John up.

"Go ahead. I think that John and I'll enjoy the sight." Severus nuzzled into Sherlock's neck and pressed soft kisses to the tension-laced muscle. The resident detective moaned lowly, relaxing into his hold; kisses and nips brought him to the sensual lips. He paused, locking gazes with the incredible cerulean, waiting for permission. As Sherlock nodded imperceptively with a small smile, Severus pressed a chaste kiss to them. That quickly evolved into a battle for dominance that Severus won his grip tightening as he rumbled deep in his chest. They were cut off by the chime of the Floo.

"Who is it?" he growled, running his fingers up and down Sherlock's back in a reassuring manner.

"Kings?"

"Oh, Merlin... I'll Floo you back?" His oldest friend disappeared faster than was strictly necessary.

"Kingsley's head was in the fire. Care to explain?" Sherlock asked dryly.

* * *

The threat Harry had warned him about had a Muggle counter-part. They arrived on-scene and the crowd parted when he gave them the glare he'd perfected on third-year Hufflepuffs. The emblazoned Spec. Unit W on the back of their leather dusters caused astonishment to break through the ranks of officers on duty. It was well-known that they only arrived on scene if it had something to do with the government.

"Signs of defensive wounds, no sign of a weapon used. Poison?" Their liaison muttered, scratching his head in confusion.

"Hardly, Lestrade. We wouldn't be here if it was. Holmes is on his way." Donovan graced their presence with her own sneer. Severus dismissed her with barely a glance.

"The Freak? Please, like we need him here with the pair of you covering the quota."

"What quota is that, exactly, Donovan?" Anderson gave the woman a hand motion but she ignored the subtle warning.

"The fucking fairy one." He gave her an evil little smile before he ripped into her for the second time.

"Ah. I suppose you're here to fill in for the home-wrecking whore then." She gasped and opened her mouth before he cut her off again. "If the shoe fits, Donovan. Even the officers in other departments know you're easy. It is not hard to come to the conclusion."

"This is harassment!"

"Is it? As far as I can recall, you did start the encounter. The other officers will support me if you take this up past Lestrade."

"Umm, sir? The vic... He looks like you." The DI looked like a recruit with that sickened expression and green tinge.

"Of that I am well aware, DI Dimmock. This pertains more to our side of the house than yours."

"Figures you'd have some psycho after you, Sniv-" Severus'd had enough. He never gave second chances; ever. Drawing his blade he advanced on her, the silver of the sword glinting in the low light of the scene. The tip touched skin, not breaking through just yet.

"Speak again, Donovan. Please by all means." he said in the most pleasant tone of voice he could muster. "Listen very carefully, you obstinate fool, as I do not give second chances. I could drive this blade right through you and not go to jail. Ah, it begins to dawn on you. Excellent. The woman targeting Harry and I is just as deadly. This is her way of showing power over us. We've had a similar string of homicides on our end. She's not going to stop unless _we_ stop her. Understand?" he hissed lowly, pressing the blade deeper and puncturing the skin.

The crimson liquid rivuleted down the blood-well, dripping to the ground in a parody of past battles he'd witnessed. He flicked his wrist and his broadsword was released from her hold, slicing a particularly nasty cut into the flesh. Casually pulling a cloth from his duster pocket to wipe down the blade seemed to snap the others out of their stupor. "Don't you have evidence to finish collecting?" Harry shook his head gently, interlacing their fingers as he sheathed his blade. "Donovan deserved it."

"Not saying she didn't. Sherlock will probably want a Pensieve viewing."

"Maybe." Sherlock slipped under the tape and his eyes flicked back and forth, taking in all of the details... including the small puddle of Donovan's blood. Ebony brows furrowed as he took that last in, finally alighting on Harry and himself.

"I have everything figured out but the method of death and why there's a puddle of blood on the floor."

"The curse is called Avada Kedavara. As for the blood... Donovan will have a nice scar on her neck." he commented slyly, patting his broadsword. John (this came as a slight surprise) grinned viciously, cackling as he spotted the Sergeant pressing gauze to her wound. There! That was the hidden wolf in sheep's clothing Sherlock had mentioned earlier... No wonder John made such a good medic and an even better doctor. Predatory instinct was laced into his very actions when he forgot about his psychomatic limp. Severus knew what Harry and Sherlock saw in the smaller male suddenly; he certainly was already breath-taking in his own way.

"I take you'll enjoy it when we show you the memory?"

"You can do that? I'd love to see that; Donovan put in her place."

* * *

Mycroft Holmes was dangerous when he wanted to be. However, having survived two Wizarding Wars and the insanity of his former Master, Severus happened to be unfazed as the security detail aimed their guns on him.

"You're associating with my brother."

"This is cause for kidnapping? I do have my husband and Potions to get back to you know." he shot back, wordlessly unlocking his cuffs & scraping back his hair casually. "Really, I mean that in every possible way. Say what you need to, Mycroft, and let me leave."

"Why should I?" Severus scowled and planted his hands on the metal desk, staring directly into familiar cobalt.

"My husband is on his Heat cycle. We have a murderous _bitch_ of a woman after him and she won't rest until she has my Harry in her clutches. Now, we can talk civilly but shortly or I can blow this safe-house to kingdom come and we cannot bother at all. Do we understand one another?"

"What are your intentions for my brother?" The questions are flat bordering on ice with the tone. "What of John?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but Harry and I are Courting them both. Is that all?" Severus stiffly replied, hissing his question.

"As of now, Mr. Snape? Yes."

* * *

He sent out owls to various patrons, explaining that he had an urgent Family problem which would take a few days as well as the fact that he would be back shortly. Just as he was about to flick the sign to 'Closed', one of the Weasleys showed up. Thankfully it was Bilius; Severus didn't think he could handle the rambunctious Twins as of now.

"Oh. Umm, I'll come back again if you're closing up..."

"Harry would never forgive me if I turned you down. What is it you need?" The eldest Weasley child shuffled for a moment before producing a prescription parchment. "Ah. Good thing I have that in stock." He snagged the complex scar healing potion and charged the eldest to Harry's tab.

"What do I-"

"You know that Harry refuses to let you pay here. Shoo." he murmured civilly, locking the door as the man stepped out along with him. "Go home to your brats."

"Will do." was the ever-cheerful response. "You should make some of your own with Harry."

"... I will take that into consideration."

* * *

The activation of Harry's Heat lead to John begging leave from his duties at the clinic and Sherlock closing all requests on his website**. Harry was more emotional during his Heats so he baked to control the raging hormones that were eerily similar to a pregnant woman's. Severus opened the door to a safe, happy husband. They also had a content pair of lovers as well as a trio of sleepy animals curled up on the sofa and floor respectively.

"Evening, husband." he pressed soft kisses to Harry's exposed shoulder and neck. "How is my Mage tonight?"

"Mmm, it seems alright with their presence. It likes Mozart and Gladstone." John greeted him with a soft smile as Sherlock continued to snooze on the Healer's lap. "Sherlock was lulled to sleep with it."

"He's been working non-stop on your series of homicides. It's about time he crashed." came the reassuring answer.

"Still... Do you mind if I cast a diagnostic?"

"Go ahead." John shrugged, carding his fingers through the silky black curls. The scan came back positive except for sleep. Severus flashed John a quick smile before snagging a cookie off of the plate in the kitchen and flicking on the telly. All was right in his world.

* * *

Of course, the karmatic laws found this too convenient for Severus to handle; they threw the one person he despised in his way. Umbridge somehow managing to kidnap both Sherlock and Harry. He was beyond infuriated. John was knocked out and their familiars were injured. Severus revived John first, coaxing the distraught Healer into concentrating on the animals as he called in Harry's friends and his own shadowy contacts. Lucius was the first to arrive, surveying the scene with an unparalleled horror before it slid behind the Malfoy mask.

"Who would be so bold?"

"Umbridge. I warned both Scrimogour and Kingsley to incarcerate her." he snarled, gently wiping blood from John's lips as he supported the Talent in standing up. "Are you alright, wolf?"

"As I'll ever be with Sherlock and Harry missing." His lover's ingrained habits snapped to the fore, John's stance military rigid and his eyes colder than Severus had ever seen. "When are the rest of the search party getting here?" Lucius looked impressed as their wolf (had it only been last night that they'd decided that?) fixed up a war table and sketches of Umbridge.

"Now actually. Do you expect to participate, Muggle?" At the dismissive tone of his best mate, John's lips lifted into a sneer. He spat the word with more venom that Lucius had ever used, "Damn straight I am, Wizard. Sherlock is _mine_ and that stupid bitch is dead when I get my hands on her Hippocratic Oath or not. If she's even thought about touching Harry... Well, let's just say you'll find her in pieces." The normally warm hazel is a dark amber in color, almost the same shade as Mozart's, and John's hands are flexing as he stands still.

"I see what you mean by wolf, Severus." Lucius knew he'd brought it upon himself.

"I did warn you."

"Severus-Oh. Hello. You are?" Hermione got straight to the point and stopped as she spotted John.

"..."

"Care to explain, Severus?" He sighed and swept his lover into a private embrace setting up unbreakable Wards for the moment.

"John, luv, Harry and Sherlock need you to be strong right now." A choked sob soon became waterworks and Severus let John cry it out.

"Dammit, I fought as hard as I could, Sev! I wasn't a match for them... She just aimed that-that wand of hers and I was helpless as she took them away. I wasn't that helpless in Afghanistan! Where was that Talent when I needed it most?" Ah. That was easy to answer.

"Your Talent is to Heal and not everyone has the patience or care for it."

"It didn't _help_." came the stubborn reply.

"Doctors are dangerous for a reason, John. Use that knowledge to stun, to hinder. I will protect you from any return fire but you need to trust me." Hardened hazel snapped up to meet grim onyx. "Good, you understand it is not _my_ intention to leave you here."

"They better not..." He dismantled the Wards and turned to face the assembled teams.

"Well?"

"Umbridge has sealed Intel Room 15. He's not coming along?"

"Do you take me for a fool? He's fully trained in combat that Aurors are unfamiliar with if she has them involved in her little scheme. John is more than capable in taking care of himself if I shield him." he sighed, spelling out to them slowly. "He's also close to Harry and I; that woman has taken his lover." John grinned savagely as his mind clicked with Sherlock's. "How are they?"

"She's monologuing, according to Sherlock. He thinks it's hilarious."

"Of course he would. Harry's condition?" John slipped back into meditation, his eyes opening as he assessed the situation.

"Tied up on a chair behind Sherlock. He's worried because Harry's stopped responding to his mental chatter." Merlin damn Umbridge!

"The Heat's recognized a threat. We have to get there now."

* * *

The room was Warded with traps and endless curses. William Weasley looked a little green at the thought of picking apart such dangerous Wards. John huffed, scraped back his hair and slipped through all of them with ease. He then picked the lock on the door. The Wards dismantled faster than Severus had ever seen them do.

"How-"

"I'm not one of you. Insignificant Muggle who so happened to get in the way and fight like a common street-brawler. You see the advantage? She never even bothered to factor me in. Ugh, Sherlock is right... Villains are getting less original by the day." he quipped sarcastically, waiting for Severus to shield him in case he stepped into something nasty. "Geez, your world has some first-rate wankers..." She was in the middle of a spittle-laced sentence when she spotted all of the wands pointed at her.

"You're both fools to think that someone would bother saving your worthless-" Severus lifted the Silence spell off of Sherlock. The consulting detective laughed so hard he bent double as he wheezed to their Healer, "Oh, John, she's repeated herself at _**least**_ three dozen times. Ah! Let me see. You are boring, unoriginal and I think you could use a little work, to be honest. I heard you were meaner to the students of your boarding school... Poor souls can't stop laughing."

He let Sherlock do his work. "You've had issues with your Mother since the day she walked out the front door of your cottage. Probably couldn't stand the sight of you, to be honest. Dear old Daddy left soon after. Oh and sucking your precious former Minister's cock isn't going to help with your looks. Your mind is twisted up so badly I don't even think John could Heal you. Mental defenses are always present in a healthy mind and I haven't encountered a single one. That _alone_ means you should be seeing someone. What if you spilled-Oh, wait. You already have. As for why you want our lightning bolt? You're jealous. It's not about sex, or even a mild obsession. It's _power_ and isn't that the most unimaginative thing I have ever come across. Please, come back with a brain and you might even be useful." She gibbered unintelligently for several moments before launching herself at Sherlock.

John caught her in a python grip, slowly choking the air from her with a ferocious snarl. "You will _**never**_ again touch what is mine. Listen up and listen good; I will go against my sworn oath as a Healer if you so much as _think_ about them within my presence. Have we an understanding?" Sherlock snickered as she passed out, her body doing the unthinkable and voiding itself. Severus gave Harry a satisfied smirk. His husband stirred where he was, blinking open soft green eyes.

* * *

It was blissfully silent from then on as if karma had decided to take a break from tormenting them. (Lies of course, especially when your husband is Harry Potter, but Severus couldn't be arsed to care.) The rest of Harry's Heat passed without incident. Sherlock went back to solving cases. John resumed his work at the clinic. Yet there was a subtle and most welcome difference. The walls between 221 A and B were knocked down, clearing a space for all four of them to live. Routines were only minutely changed. Peace finally reigned on that most curious of flats; namely those of Baker Street in London, England.

**Ending A/N:** I honestly don't know what to think of this... On one hand, I love this new style that wants to assert itself. On the other? I don't think I've done this any justice. Really, I mean that. I apologize if the characters seem _way_ too OOC. I'm going with what the Muses came up with... As always, folks, please review! This will remain a gigantic one-shot. I doubt you'll get another quite like it from me. Maybe an omake or a snippet series of the stuff I wanted to put in here but didn't feel like it at the time. I hope you're happy with the plunny you spawned, leobutler! It stole my Muses and held them hostage (with a nodachi that happened to be seven feet in length; sound familiar?) until I finished this... Oh, PM me if you have more questions or want to use something from here. I don't mind sharing as long as I get credit. Does anyone know a really good artist who would be willing to draw fan-art for this? I would attempt this save for the fact that I'm not that good at drawing characters I love; true story. Hmm, maybe ile-o from Deviantart if I ask nicely? Meh. Thanks for reading and I hope you had as much fun reading this as much as I had fun writing it.

**website- There is an existing website called the Science of Deduction. It's a functioning connector site to the series. Go check it out along with John Watson's Blog!

*Talent- an ability to manifest magic beyond the age of eleven that focuses on a specific area of Magic. Rare Talents develop during mid-to late thirties, these being more powerful than latent Talent or more common Talents such as Persuasion, Legimens and Telekinesis. The rarest of said Talents can do the most delicate or subtle of treatments in their specific field.

Harry- has yet to receive his Talent as he is not of age; possible Talents are Seeker (does not have anything to do with Quidditch), Pulse, Siren

Severus- Master Legimens and Occlumens, Levitation, Plant Empathy

Sherlock- Localis Domine, Seer, high form of Persuasion

John- Healing (most aspects; see above explanation), Empathy, Animal Empathy

Kingsley- high form of Persuasion, Charisma, Faith

Mycroft- Localis Domine, Control, Discression


	2. Echo

**A/N:** So, I said I'd give you all snippets of Deductions, Murder, Magic: Wait, what? as a parting in my Ending A/N. What I didn't say was how I'd be doing it. These snippets and ficlets (I can safely assume that most of them will be over 4,000 words since I write like I talk, which my family tells me is too much. Plus I have no brain-to-mouth filter. Typing just makes it worse, to be honest.) will take place before, after and during the events of DMM:Ww. Most of these will have song titles. This one was prompted by a lovely song called Echo by Jason Walker. Hope you enjoy this.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it.

Ryder

**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**

**DMMWw Echo DMMWw Echo DMMWw**

Sherlock pressed his lips together as his eyes flashed across the crime scene. There, a faint lingering of a popular male cologne, blood in a faint imprint of the size eleven shoe-Anderson was about to step on yet another clue, a drop of the killer's blood. Why does he work with these incompetent fools again?

"Anderson, is it really that difficult to use that thing between your ears? Pull your foot up immediately. Give me that swab you always carry." He doesn't remark that he can _smell_ the scent of sex that the idiot had engaged in with Donovan for the umpteenth time in who knew how many hours. Of course, he does but it's less important than that speck of blood. Sherlock huffs as he figures out the man's reason. A used condom under the bed? The wife's been sleeping with the landscaper (who lived next to a refining factory due to the amount of soot under the bed and the man's fingernails, no doubt). They'd find the other body in a matter of moments. Three, two-

"There's another body in the kitchen!"

"That would be her lover and their landscaper. Her husband's the culprit." he tells Lestrade, handing the bloody (literally) swab to an astonished Anderson. "Why do you insist on leaving your mouth open like that? Your stupidity is remarkable for one who looks to be intelligent at first."

"Listen you-"

"I really don't think you'll have a wife for much longer if you keep sleeping with Donovan." he snaps back, because offense is much better than defending his deductions. He mentally questions his decision to help Lestrade for the nth time. Why?Oh, yes, there are _supposed_ to be interesting criminals. Bah. None of them were original anymore. Sherlock was heartily sick of it all. He did have a reason to be proud, though. He didn't live with idiots. No, Severus, Harry and John were all a special exception to his rules. Mozart had his own category of smart as did Gladstone. He briefly pinched the bridge of his nose. They'd booted him out for the day, insisting upon him helping out with the numerous, intensely_** BORING**_ cases Lestrade went to. Sherlock didn't want to but he wouldn't say he was entirely inclined to deny them anything they asked.

* * *

Sherlock had been relegated to stapler of Lestrade's finished paperwork. It wasn't because there weren't any more cases, far from it, actually; he solved them before the forensics team had even cleared the threshold multiple times. Which led to the desk-sitting/paperwork drone thing he sincerely was _not_ fond of. He sneers at his pile as he snaps yet another staple into a thick stack of papers.

"Why is there so much paperwork, Lestrade?"

"Because, Holmes, there are a lot of sick psychos out there. They incur paperwork. So do you, for that matter." came the unusually rough answer from Lestrade. Oh, normally Sherlock could tell that the man was a veritable _ocean_ of patience... Which seemed to exclude him above all else. His Talent is suddenly humming as a lunatic bursts into Scotland Yard with a maniacal glint in his eyes that hints of magic.

"Found you! Once I kill you, Harry will never look at another!" Sherlock brushes Lestrade's shoulder, keeping the Inspector down.

"Mmm too bad I have pyschos that like to try and kill me. Sit, it's me he wants."

"Doesn't that bite, though?" Lestrade's relaxed now that the apparent reason for his boring day has burst through security.

"I deal with this kind of crazy on a daily basis." he manages casually as he drops his voice an octave and draws upon Dominis Locale. "You want me dead?"

"Yes!"

"Such a shame though. Harry would be sad."

"What?"

"I said, Harry would be sad. He'd be crying. Do you want those eyes to be crying?" His voice never wavered, weaving a tangled web about the now confused Wizard. "Those deep pools of emerald overwhelmed with crystal tears?"

"Wha-No. I love him! He wouldn't-"

"He would be. His heart would _break_." He emphasizes the word break and that's all it takes before the Wizard is clutching his right leg. "_Ripped_ to shreds, _scattered_ like ashes to the wind." The plain eyes, too much of too many colors, cloud over with pain and agony as Sherlock makes his masterpiece. "All because you wanted me _dead_?"

"Li-Living dead! Too precious..." comes the coughing hack of an answer through the spell he's woven.

"Living dead... You'd have given me Draught of Living Death?" The Wizard slumps over even as cracks of Apparation mean that the Auror Corps has arrived. Harry's at the front, followed by Severus and John as they examine him for injury. "I am fine. Why you couldn't tell me I had an assassin after me is beyond my comprehension." he chides the chagrined Wizards and John. Yes, John needs a separate category or all three of them would gang up on him.

"We wanted to keep you safe." Harry admits softly from his spot on Sherlock's chest. John's tucked under one arm and they're all surrounded by Severus.

"Safe, hmm? Since when have the three of you ever been safe, husband mine? Sherlock lives for the chase, as does our little wolf. You cannot always keep them in the dark." said Potions Master drawls quietly. "You experienced something similar once, I believe." The personnel have learned to leave the four alone when they're like this; Donovan has three scars for her last encounter to warn her away.

"Love you, genius." John mumbles, slim fingers intertwined with his own.

"As I do you, my wolf." Harry laughs quietly before pouting. Sherlock can never resist the temptation to kiss away the frustration on both men. "Of course I cannot forget about my sorcerers; perish the thought." Severus rumbles softly, all of them content in each other and the moment.

* * *

The weight of Harry sleeping on him along with John is sweet but more than welcome. Alone was something he preferred not to be nowadays. Severus presses a kiss to his forehead as they watch the other two sleep with soft smiles.

"Good morning."

"Mmm." for someone that has a sharp intelligence, his older lover is one to wake with a very mild manner. "Good morning to you." Then again, if he doesn't have a cup of Earl Grey prepared the same exact way every morning, he can be a right bastard; worse than Mycroft on a good day. Harry knows this mysterious formula better than anyone after more than a decade of marriage. John fixes his tea in a timely manner after more than a year together. He despises coffee in all forms and this includes Starbucks. The only reason he enjoys the taste is because Harry is the only one in the flat who needs it and they kiss quite often. Mrs. Hudson merely gives them a smile each morning as they linger on each other (this happens more than is socially acceptable, but Harry nor do the rest of them much care for the word _normal_).

Sherlock is usually the first awake. He hates to sleep because his mind has enough information in it to fuel several jets worth of imagination. It's constantly monitoring people, their trite actions and every subtle scent or blatant mistake is recalled with perfect detail. An accomplished Legimens (not Severus, surprisingly) says that his mind works on several levels and not all of them are in focus. His career is good work for his brain and even better exercise... As if he wasn't aware of that. In addition to that particular tidbit, he was also informed that his mind was difficult to read if he wasn't truly concentrated. Sherlock slid out from underneath both of the smaller men and watched as they snuggled closer to each other as well as Severus. It was his turn to pull out the breakfast materials. Harry would shuffle in as he was frying the bacon and not-so-subtly shove him out. It was John and Harry's domain and he as well as Severus knew this. He just liked the look Harry gave him after the younger man was offered a piece of bacon that Sherlock waved under his nose. On cue, Harry shuffled into the kitchen, Slytherin sweater drooping off of his slender shoulders in a way that he considered adorable. It was Severus's but the older man refused to wear it after he'd seen Harry in it. Sherlock knew exactly why, too; it was the reason he allowed John to wear one of his t-shirts to bed.

"Harry..." he sing-songs gently, waving the bacon. "I know you're up."

"Gimme." Yes, Harry was very much an afternoon and night person. "Before I Levicorpus your happy arse." Sherlock allowed the sharp teeth to nip the crispy meat from his fingers with ease. There's a moment of absolute bliss that usually escapes the youngest member (of whatever it is that they have, as there has to be an official word for this) unless they're in the middle of a mind-blowing shag. "Damn. I hate how good your bacon is." Harry mutters as he imitates an octopus and wraps around his front.

"Rather clingy this morning, kitten." He has pet names for them all, seeing as they'd picked up on John's for him. "Bad night?"

"No. Just wondering if you'd meet my other friend's under better circumstances." Yes, seeing as they'd vanished after Harry seemed to be alright... Rather curious, that, to be honest.

"Anything for you." he answers, pressing a light kiss on top of Harry's head. Sherlock knows he's getting better at this whole relationship thing. John's been coaching him.

"John's handiwork?" Harry knows this too.

"Of course. I would normally tell you that I'd like to deduce their various reactions and why they seemed so shocked that you were attached to us. I mean, really, the staring and subtle shifts-Mmm." The usual sarcasm of his words is shut up by Harry's sinful lips which also hold the mind-numbing quality he needs. John finds them wrapped in one another while a sliver of Sherlock's attention is fixed upon the bacon and saves it even with Harry glued to him.

"I still don't understand how you can make bacon taste so good but absolutely _ruin_ everything else." his first lover remarks, snagging two pieces and handing one to Severus as the older male also shuffles in, eyes half closed as he inhales the scent of the Earl Grey Harry's made. A cup of said tea is clutched as if it's the only thing between Severus and evil. Sugar and milk are promptly placed at his side as John pulls out the material for making pancakes, shooing them out of the kitchen with gentle touches and quick kisses. It's a habit none of them break even if Sherlock leans into a deeper kiss than the other two. They love each other but Sherlock knows he's emotionally stunted and John is slowly but surely correcting that. A ring of his phone has him answering before he's even aware.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock." the voice of his brother is never a good sign.

"Mycroft. It was a good morning until you called." he scowls at the phone as though it's done him something wrong.

"Mummy wants you to bring them to the Sunday brunch we have." Sherlock chokes. Mummy knew? Oh, he was _murdering_ Mycroft. "She knows because I know."

"Mycroft, I will kill you." he manages to say in a ridiculously controlled tone. "Slowly and as painfully as I can, with no mercy... Never mind. I'll just have a chat with Kingsley."

"You wouldn't-"

"As I recall, you were the one to tell Mummy." Oh, he's missed this game of sharp sarcasm and taunting his brother. Mummy didn't approve, of course, but that was Mummy's way. He hangs up after that, cackling at the muffled cursing that ends when he taps the screen icon. All three of his lovers have a somewhat tense smile. "Go ahead and laugh. Mycroft will pay for involving you in our brunch." John broke into giggles first, followed by Severus's delighted chuckle and Harry's cackle-snort. Yes, a cackle-snort; Sherlock is well aware that it's odd, thank you.

* * *

Kingsley is more than willing to show up with them. All it took was _eight_ words; Mycroft is turned on by the color teal. The man shows up in a teal silk button-down and cream colored slacks with tan leather boots. Sherlock admits that the color is very good on the other man.

"Mycroft will pay for his comment and sneaky ways." he mutters, cackling softly as Mycroft's jaw drops when he sees Kingsley.

"Kings?"

"Hmm? Myc, do you have a fever? You face just turned bright red." the nonchalant questions are exactly what Sherlock asked of the man.

"No! No, of course not. I see you brought them."

"Mummy would be disappointed if I hadn't just to spite you." he huffed on cue as Mummy strode into the hallway. Cobalt eyes the same shade as his and Mycroft's glance over the others, flashing with contentment as she embraces Sherlock first and then his brother. He can't help but to feel smug about it and proceeds to stick his tongue out in a childish manner at Mycroft.

"Sherlock..." her chiding is gentle, but he pulls his tongue back in. He's forgotten that his Mum was where he'd gotten his genius from. "Care to introduce me to these fine yo-men?" He catches the slip-up when she spots Severus.

"Severus, this is Mummy."

"Please call me Evy." Severus rumbles in surprise but manages to keep his cool.

"It is a pleasure to meet you finally, Evy." Severus looks at Sherlock as he shakes Mummy's hand, like he wants to kiss him until they're both breathless.

"Mummy, this is Harry." She looks over Harry, stopping as she takes in the unusually bright green eyes and lightning bolt scar.

"Hello, Harry." her voice is slightly softer as she shakes the hand that has the scar 'I will not tell lies' across the back without a flinch.

Sherlock rests his head on top of John's as he introduces his last lover, "Mummy, you've at least heard of John."

"Yes. Mycroft tells me he's your flatmate. It is quite nice to meet the man who is my son's friend."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Holmes." John's good at niceties, but it looks like Mummy wants to talk and that's never a good sign.

* * *

She corners him in the kitchen as he's fixing their drinks for chit-chat on the patio. His Talent ripples along its channels as he absently collects what he needs for the beverages. No one can sneak up on him anymore.

"Sherlock."

"Mummy." Their tones are identical, sarcasm laced in without care.

"Why are you sleeping with them?" Ah, Mum's always been worse that Mycroft.

"It's... complicated." he hedges, snagging the 1874 cognac that Severus seems to prefer. Harry's more the Bacardi type and John likes beer. Sherlock has no idea why, of course, but he doesn't argue.

"John I can understand. The other two... Something is wrong with them. You've changed too."

"Mummy, do you remember the summer Mycroft was acting strangely and he was sick for weeks after?"

"Yes. What does that-No. It can't have. I checked and re-checked his genetics..." He knows; Mycroft showed him the list when he went off to St. Bart's.

"Where there is magic, it manifests." he states dryly as he makes his sapphire martini. "You better than anyone should know that."

She sighs deeply before knocking back her cocktail, "I tried so hard to keep it from you."

"Key word is tried. John's Talented, Harry and Severus are Wizards." he barked roughly, whirling to face his beloved Mummy. "If you can't stand the fact that Mycroft and I are Talented, perhaps we should leave?"

"Oh, how I despise the magic that flows through my family. It makes us different, like freaks." He flinched at the implied meaning. "What? Did someone call you a freak?" This time Severus glides into the room in two strides and wraps him in strong arms.

"I suggest you stop using that word, Evelyn. I had a suspicion I knew you from somewhere. You knew my Mum."

"Eileen's boy? How can you be one of them?" the horrified tone in Mummy's voice says it all.

Severus laughs darkly. "She never told you. She was a Pureblood witch who mingled with the British Elite as part of a disguise. Her mannerisms were polite and high-society enough to fool you, but she seemed to miss out on the important dates, no?"

"She grew up in a Manor in the country. Of course her dates were a bit off." Mummy sniffed. He's never seen this side of his Mum. Who was this stuck-up _ snob_? "Get out."

"Mummy?"

He takes a step forward only to take it back as she hissed furiously, "I did not stutter. Get out of this house. Both of my children are _freaks_! Freaks do not _**belong**_-" Harry snapped his wand at her, causing her mouth to disappear. The muffled scream was horrible. He'd seen blood and worse crimes than this and yet he turned away into Severus's shoulder, unbelievable tears spilling down his face at her utter betrayal. Mycroft growls as he tries to hold in his pain.

"You made him cry." the fury in John's tone rivals Harry's animalistic snarl. "Sherlock's the strongest man I know and you _**hurt**_ him. Bury her, Severus, before I do more than I'm capable of holding back."

"Hmph. No, letting her wallow in her misery is more than enough, wolf. Sherlock... Shh, it'll be alright." Gentle, slender fingers swiped away the tears and soft obsidian eyes meet his pained sapphire.

"I hate her." it's the first thing that blooms in place of the love he'd held. "No. That's too easy. I despise being her child, so I will not contact her. I will not bury her nor take care of her affairs should she croak." he decides, humming softly when John burrows against his side. Harry's eyes are still glowing a furious, eldritch green that is slightly insane.

"Consider it done, Sherlock. That woman is not our Mother." Mycroft says succinctly, gently squeezing his shoulder with a broad hand.

"I'll be with you shortly, genius." Harry murmurs as he steals a kiss. "I have the perfect solution." Sherlock brushes a hand across Harry's face as a departing gesture before Severus Apparates them away.

**Ending A/N:** Oh my God! Why do they do this to me? Stupid Muses that don't go where they're supposed to... This was FLUFF, dammit, and it turned angsty. Any suggestions? As always, folks, review, review, REVIEW! I need them. ^w^


	3. What comes around goes back around

**A/N:** Aww, you guys... I love you guys. I was surprised that this garnered so much attention! So in honor of all of your favs and alerts and follows, I give you another chapter of DMM:Ww. Hope you like it and hit the obnoxious review button on your way to see other stories. Just a line or two would make my day.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC**_. As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Wgacba DMMWw Wgacba DMMWw**

Severus has a habit of painting the unnoticed. A student crying in a dark corner after the War, a faery taking care of the wilting flowers in the autumn season, the Seleighe Sidhe as they glide amongst the crowds of Muggles so easily, it's like parting water.

Of course, his mind also combines it with his work in Potions and several un-tapped potentials that he doesn't touch anymore. Playing the piano as his Mother taught him _hurt_, though not in the fingers (as most would assume) but his heart ached. The violin is associated with Sherlock, as it has been for a decade (though once it was soft-lit evenings with Draco as a child). Certain music makes him cringe while others he sings along with passably.

* * *

But paint, canvas, pastel, oil, acrylic... This is the medium he uses when he first sees Harry as a man as opposed to his dead rival's son. It takes a long time and the materials are the walls of the castle herself and simple chalk. Vibrant Copperplate cursive surrounds the vivid verdant eyes that are Lily's yet not, ebony hair that shines like the wing of a raven in stark winter and coral lips that more often than not are quirked into a crooked smile. His arms ache when his masterpiece is finished and he doesn't even bother to hide it.

The next morning finds the Entrance Hall in total silence. The mural has remained, surprisingly, and there is silent awe at his furious strokes as well as his brilliant posing of his subject, the colors mixed with a careless flourish. Severus has never really taken a moment after he's done to stare at his masterpieces.

"Who is responsible for this?" Minerva's voice is sharp and cutting in the silence that is now broken with chatter. "I ask this because it is against the school's rules." Severus smirks; the rules do not expressly forbid expressing oneself with a medium of their choosing. He looked it up a long time ago when his mind was overflowing with colors and he wanted one of the walls as a canvas.

"It pleases me to inform you, Minerva, there is no direct statement that is in those exact words." he states in his usually biting tone. "And if a student was the particular artist who did this... They'd have to ask permission of Hogwarts herself. I daresay Mr. Potter is flattered." His colleague's jaw tightens before she actually looks at the piece.

"How? This is... Is that writing?" Yes, what had he written in his frenzy? "Loyal, amazing, champion of the underdog, observant, troublemaker-"

"We do not need a recital. The students can look at this in their spare time. Get to breakfast." The sarcastic drawl had most of the students flowing past him into the Great Hall.

* * *

Harry cornered him in a dark hallway.

"That was you."

"What exactly is my fault, Mr. Potter?" he asks dryly with a smirk.

"That... mural. I know your handwriting, Half-Blood Prince." Severus snorted, turning back around and striding down the hall to resume his rounds.

"Potter, get back to bed. Just because you defeated the Dark Lord does not mean that another will not come forward. You will need your sleep for that one."

"So, no detention?" Severus smiles at the cheeky tone, but does not turn back around.

"Ungrateful brat, you test the limits of my patience. Get out of my sight before I regret not taking House points." he snarled, whirling on Potter with his wand at the ready. "Now-" Harry had stood up on his tip-toes and kissed Severus, interrupting the heated rant and causing his mind to go blank for once in many, many years. His arms wrap around the teen's waist on instinct and he moaned into the kiss before his mind caught up with his body. He stiffens as he lets go of the warmth and flees, not even looking back once. What had he done? His stride lengthens as he finishes his rounds with an extra viciousness that hasn't truly been in his voice since the days of the Dark Lord's rebirth.

Behind his chamber's door, however, is another story. He sinks to the ground with a thump, his legs sprawled out ungracefully and his mind running like it was the Hogwarts Express. Why had he given in? Harry had kissed him, but was it some sort of joke or bet? He felt sickened by that thought. Severus groaned as a knock sounded on his door.

"Revelo." The name Minerva McGonagall popped up in his loopy script. "No, I will not answer the door. Ward Level six." Even Dumbledore refused to break through those when he knew Severus was in a mood.

"Severus. I know you're in there."

"Minerva, if you value hearing precisely what I think of you at the moment in vitriolic terms, I suggest you leave." he snarled at the door, pouring himself a finger of cognac and staring at it. Should he delve into alcohol? No, that had been his Father's first resort when things didn't go his way. He hurled the drink into the fireplace, satisfied when it shattered like his heart. "Reparo. At least I am not my Father. I will not allow that man to become involved with me. I will not ruin his chances as I almost did with Lily.

* * *

What is surprising is that Harry approaches him in broad daylight.

"Why did you run?"

"I did not run, Mr. Potter. I categorically refused to allow a silly little bet amongst your fellow Gryffindors to humiliate me." he returned with as much venom as possible. "Now, did you win whatever it was?"

"No, I didn't." There is a bit of disappointment in Harry's voice.

"Hmph. You should probably go sit with Ms. Weasley." The Hall stared at them as they resumed their normal seats and ate as if nothing had gone on. "Do I look amused? Get back to your banal conversations, brats!" he sneered and they all jumped. Good, he still had it. He speared his kippers with something akin to vengeance but he smirked when Harry looked up from conversing with the tight-knit group of Gryffindor seventh years. Harry flashed him a smile that made his heart feel warm. No, he had to stop that.

Student gossip never happened in his classes since he made the habit of reading their notes out loud in a droll monotone. But now there were whispers that he caught and all of it was odd.

"What does Potter see in the Professor?"

"Dunno, but they worked together to take down the Dark Lord."

"Think they had extra 'training' sessions?"

"Mr. Nott, watch your Potion. Three anti-clockwise stirs to the left or it boils over. Do not gossip in my classroom or you will find yourself in detention with Gryffindors." he stated calmly and quietly. "And as for the last comment, Mr. Nott, ten points from Slytherin. I never took you for a fool who spread nonsense." On his rounds of the Gryffindor side, the Brown girl and the Patil twin were also gossiping.

"He's kinda hot, actually."

"Why?"

"Well, there is his voice. It's deep and really smooth. Have you noticed his hands? Pianist fingers, so he's got a delicate touch when he wants-Professor."

"Ms. Brown. You added three sprigs of aconite as opposed to two. Congratulations, your cure is now a poison. You fail for the day. Ms. Patil, four clockwise stirs and then leave your potion to simmer. And as for the gossip, twenty points from Gryffindor. I don't want to hear it again."

The second time Harry approached him, Severus was completely thrown off-guard. He was tugged forward and kissed quite thoroughly his mouth plundered with a hot tongue. He relaxed into the kiss, half-closing his eyes before he realized they were at the front of the Great Hall yet again. He pulled away so fast some swore he'd Apparated.

"Potter, what was the meaning of that?" he hissed, wiping his lips with the back of his sleeve. A soft smile lit up Harry's face and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

"C'mon. I can't say it here." He allowed Harry to tug him out of the entrance to wolf-whistles and cat-calls. "Sorry. You looked so damn miserable that I had to."

"Miserable? Potter that is my motto. Let go at once." he snapped back.

"Nuh-uh. If I let go, you'll disappear again." He blinked as he realized where they were.

"Why are we near the Room of Requirements?"

"You'll see." The smile is what drew him in, the light behind the verdant eyes that seemed to be just for him.

* * *

Severus smiles to himself as he feels the weight of Sherlock and Harry in his lap, John sleeping on his lower thigh as the telly flashes with commercials and crappy night-time shows. When he'd allowed Harry to take him into the RoR, he'd never expected something like this to happen. But in his heart, he knew that he belonged with them.

"Mmm, Sev'rus, thinkin' too hard." Harry mumbled into his right shoulder, hooded verdant eyes looking up at him sleepily.

"Indeed." Sherlock hums as the lanky consulting detective squashes his cheekbone against Severus's neck. "Sleep."

"As you command, my genius." One last thought slips past his mind as he closes his eyes; he wouldn't trade this for anything in the world.

**Ending A/N:** Whoot! It looks like my Muses are cooperating with me again! Alright, here's how this works. Suggest a song for me to be inspired by. It can be anything but I can write to most songs without complaint. I might ignore your suggestion if I can't write to it but it will be acknowledged. Ta, and don't forget to review!


	4. Haunted

**A/N:** Alrighty then! The first suggestion is by yue14121990, who suggested Evanescence or Within Temptation. I'm gonna go with Haunted by Evanescence. I was gonna do Angels or Memories (from WT) but they didn't resonate with what I wanted for some reason. Fickle Muses... This is before and during DMM:Ww, so don't worry if you get kind of confused. Words with this (*) at the end of them will be explained after the Ending A/N.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Haunted DMMWw Haunted DMMWw**

John stands by his parent's graves not even feeling the rain as it trickles down into his black suit and white shirt. His tie is long gone, left in a muddy pile that will be thrown away the next morning. In his hand is a fragile orchid water beading on the soft petals and falling to mix with the dew in the grass. Harry's off in some pub; getting rip-roaring drunk and she'll call him at three in the morning from a dirty street corner. He hates this vicious cycle more than anything. John wants to scream, shout or just sink down on his knees and beg for his parents to come back. Then his bowed head snaps up. No, he's a grown man and Harry's a grown woman, dammit.

The Army has the structure he needs; the Sergeants tell him he's a crack shot with his service pistol and quite a few other weapons. He's deployed with the rest of the 3rd Division in a peacekeeping mission. Medic skills serve him well all the way up to that awful day in the desert...

**-FLASHBACK-**

_Heat waves rise up from dunes that seem familiar yet hold no place in a man's mind. This particular village is silent save for the frantic medics and doctors doing their best to save the brave men and women that sacrificed everything for liberty. Blood spatters decorate everything; clothing, walls of adobe, staining the sand deep red as it seeped from bodies stacked ten high. John was numb. He had to be, seeing as he was bandaging wounds and inoculating soldiers the minute they were handed to him. It was an innocent nineteen-year old boy who reminded John too much of his sister that had released the restraint upon his own powers. Power, pure and immense **poured **from somewhere deep within; a veritable ocean that overflowed. The wounds sealed up and it was as if the teen had never been injured. The amazed Evac-personnel had asked what he'd done, but John'd had no clue what that was a precursor to his hidden Talents. Then the surprise attack, John tackling one of his fellow medics into the sand and taking the bullet for him. Black edges his vision as he fires back with his SIG Sauer P226* a sense of triumph lacing his nerves as the shooter falls off of his perch spouting a fountain of blood._

**-END FLASHBACK-**

It's pure chance that leads him to Mike Stamford and the events that follow afterward. Living with Sherlock is the most excitement he's had since his deployment. When Sherlock texted the word 'dangerous', his nerves sang with the high of the chase and the apprehension of the villain of the day. Shooting someone in defense of Sherlock clued him in on the fact that he might have feelings for the genius.

Shoving those feelings to the back of his mind doesn't work. Target practice at the range doesn't move them nor does time spent in Sarah's arms (not even when he goes on dates with her). He chooses to ignore the butterflies in his stomach whenever he glances at Sherlock longer than necessary or looks at him when his back is turned. Donovan's looks become more poisonous and Anderson just sneers when they arrive on scene. Sherlock seems oblivious and that's how John intends to keep him.

* * *

He never expected sugar to be the one thing to bring them together. Yet Sherlock always manages to taste of sopapilla*, mint and (for some odd reason) electricity. He admits the taste is just like Sherlock, unique and vibrant. Everything that falls into place after their first kiss is merely a formality by that point.

Relaxing at 221 A is a practice they often indulge in and John enjoys the fact that Sherlock's mind is quieted enough for their genius to sleep.

"Mmm, it seems alright with their presence. It likes Mozart and Gladstone." Harry murmurs to his husband of a decade. John greets Severus with a soft smile as Sherlock continued to snooze on his lap. "Sherlock was lulled to sleep with it."

"He's been working non-stop on your series of homicides. It's about time he crashed." John hummed, stroking his fingers through the silky black curls.

"Still... Do you mind if I cast a diagnostic?"

"Go ahead." Severus flashed John a quick smile before snagging a cookie off of the plate in the kitchen and flicking on the telly. The long-legged Potions Master settles at his feet, his head lying on John's unoccupied thigh as they trade soft touches and gentle kisses over Sherlock's sleeping form.

* * *

John snarls as he fights the bonds that hold him in place with his Talent, breaking free once and snapping the arm of one of the Wizards with his combatives training before he's restrained again.

"This one brawls like a common Muggle." The high-pitched girlish voice has him baring his teeth like a wolf.

"I'll show you common-"

"Silencio."

"That doesn't work on me, useless bitch. I have a Healing Talent." he spat blood out onto her pristine outfit, his tone biting.

"Oh. So you can take the beating I wanted to dish out?"

"I can take a bullet for my country, I can certainly take you on." he sneered, the binds loosening again as he works at them with his Empathy. He frees himself for a second time and wreaks havoc until he notices the red jet of light too late to save them.

"... Sher... lock... 'Ry..." he coughs before his world goes black.

* * *

When he awakens to the sight of a pissed off Severus, he's frantic until his lover shoves the injured animals into his shaking hands. He Heals them, smoothing over the pink scars until downy fur grows over the scars. Mozart whines at him and licks the blood and tears of frustration off of his face. Gladstone huddles against his side and Estragon is a purring mound in his lap.

"Who would be so bold?" He looks up to see a regal blond standing in the middle of the trashed flat.

"Umbridge. I warned both Scrimogour and Kingsley to incarcerate her." he snarled, gently wiping blood from John's lips and helping him stand up. "Are you alright, wolf?"

"As I'll ever be with Sherlock and Harry missing." His voice is rough and he reverts to military bearing since the Wizard seems to be judging him. "When are the rest of the search party getting here?" He fixed up a war table and sketches of Umbridge.

"Now actually. Do you expect to participate, Muggle?" At the dismissive tone of the blond, he sneers.

He snarls out the opposite word with more venom than the blond had used, "Damn straight I am, Wizard. Sherlock is MINE and that stupid bitch is dead when I get my hands on her Hippocratic Oath or not. If she's even thought about touching Harry... Well, let's just say you'll find her in pieces." John's hands are flexing as he stands still, wanting to reach for the pompous twit who dismissed him so easily.

"I see what you mean by wolf, Severus." The Wizard knew he'd brought it upon himself.

"I did warn you."

"Severus-Oh. Hello. You are?" A woman with curly hair got straight to the point and stopped as she spotted John.

"..."

"Care to explain, Severus?" Severus sighed and swept him into a private embrace setting up unbreachable Wards for the moment.

"John, luv, Harry and Sherlock need you to be strong right now." He fisted his hands in Severus's robes and let out a choked sob, taking comfort as his lover let him cry it out.

"Dammit, I fought as hard as I could, Sev! I wasn't a match for them... She just aimed that-that wand of hers and I was helpless as she took them away. I wasn't that helpless in Afghanistan! Where was that Talent when I needed it most?" John snarled, swiping away the tears angrily.

"Your Talent is to Heal and not everyone has the patience or care for it."

"It didn't _help_." came the stubborn reply.

"Doctors are dangerous for a reason, John. Use that knowledge to stun, to hinder. I will protect you from any return fire but you need to trust me." Hardened hazel snapped up to meet grim onyx. "Good, you understand it is not MY intention to leave you here."

"They better not..." He dismantled the Wards and turned to face the assembled teams.

"Well?"

"Umbridge has sealed Intel Room 15. He's not coming along?"

"Do you take me for a fool? He's fully trained in combat that Aurors are unfamiliar with if she has them involved in her little scheme. John is more than capable in taking care of himself if I shield him." he sighed, spelling out to them slowly. They laced fingers to take comfort in each other's presence. "He's also close to Harry and I; that woman has taken his lover." John grinned savagely as his mind clicked with Sherlock's. "How are they?"

"She's monologuing, according to Sherlock. He thinks it's hilarious." Of course his genius would find it amusing.

"Of course he would. Harry's condition?" John slipped back into meditation, his eyes opening as he assessed the situation.

"Tied up on a chair behind Sherlock. He's worried because Harry's stopped responding to his mental chatter." Damn it all, why had Harry slipped into his own mind?

"The Heat's recognized a threat. We have to get there now."

* * *

The room was Warded with traps and endless curses. William Weasley looked a little green at the thought of picking apart such dangerous Wards. John huffed, scraped back his hair and slipped through all of them with ease. He then picked the lock on the door. John felt the tenseness of the room drop by several degrees.

"How-"

"I'm not one of you. Insignificant Muggle who so happened to get in the way and fight like a common street-brawler. You see the advantage? She never even bothered to factor me in. Ugh, Sherlock is right... Villains are getting less original by the day." he quipped sarcastically, waiting for Severus to shield him in case he stepped into something nasty. "Geez, your world has some first-rate wankers..." She was in the middle of a spittle-laced sentence when she spotted all of the wands pointed at her.

"You're both fools to think that someone would bother saving your worthless-" Severus lifted the Silence spell off of Sherlock. The consulting detective laughed so hard he bent double as he wheezed to their Healer, "Oh, John, she's repeated herself at _**least**_ three dozen times. Ah! Let me see. You are boring, unoriginal and I think you could use a little work, to be honest. I heard you were meaner to the students of your boarding school... Poor souls can't stop laughing." He let Sherlock do his work. "You've had issues with your Mother since the day she walked out the front door of your cottage. Probably couldn't stand the sight of you, to be honest. Dear old Daddy left soon after. Oh and sucking your precious former Minister's cock isn't going to help with your looks. Your mind is twisted up so badly I don't even think John could Heal you. Mental defenses are always present in a healthy mind and I haven't encountered a single one. That _alone_ means you should be seeing someone. What if you spilled-Oh, wait. You already have. As for why you want our lightning bolt? You're jealous. It's not about sex, or even a mild obsession. It's _**power**_ and isn't that the most unimaginative thing I have ever come across. Please, come back with a brain and you might even be useful."

She gibbered unintelligently for several moments before launching herself at Sherlock.

John caught her in a python grip, slowly choking the air from her with a ferocious snarl. "You will _never_ again touch what is _**mine**_, bitch. Listen up and listen good; I will go against my sworn oath as a Healer if you so much as _think_ about them within my presence. Have we an understanding?" Sherlock snickered as she passed out, her body doing the unthinkable and voiding itself. Severus gave Harry a satisfied smirk. "I want her to have the harshest punishment your world is able to offer, Severus."

"Ugh, I agree with John. That toad is _**vile**_."

* * *

John couldn't stand it when Sherlock and Harry were gone together. Severus blanched when the two proposed to go out alone. They looked at each other warily before John sighed, scraping back his longer hair (he hadn't cut it in months and now Harry was rather fond of putting braids in it) before staring both men in the eyes.

"It worries the bloody hell out of me, but you can go." he admitted softly. "We can't keep you here because we fear for your safety."

"As Harry is so fond of pointing out to me, trouble finds him and never the other way around." Severus drawled, seeking out his hand again. "Go on your walk." They channel-surfed, occasionally trading heated kisses until John straddled Severus's lap and pressed his lips to the older man's neck. "I worry about them..."

"Mmmhmm, but they're too wild to contain. They need some free time to themselves. We've been kind of overbearing." he murmured, his fingers carding through Severus's waist-length locks carefully.

"True. But if they're missing for more than eight hours, we look for them?" Apprehension flashed through the intense obsidian eyes before Severus sighed. "No. Let them be. They'll be back before long."

They fell asleep, John using the taller male as a pillow, his face tucked into Severus's neck and both of them wrapped around one another. When Sherlock's voice floated into the flat, he stirred and rubbed his eyes half-heartedly before bolting upright. Severus groaned but also got up. Harry laughed, giving both of them a welcome kiss.

"You two fell asleep?"

"It was that or go stir-crazy, genius." he purred, staring up into Sherlock's excited cobalt eyes. "Looks like you got the freedom you wanted, hmm?"

"There is that. Harry's a dirty little minx too." Severus sniggered before laughing as he held Harry close.

"The department store? Changing Room 2?"

"Merlin, Sherlock was so good at convincing the salesclerk that we were just having trouble with our clothes..." That set all of them off, the flat filled with laughter as it hadn't for weeks after the kidnapping.

**Ending A/N:** Thought this needed to be seen from John's PoV. As before, suggestions for music are welcome and I will honestly tell you, choose two songs or bands because I had to listen to the songs first and see if my Muses would respond. They're ridiculously picky about what I write to sometimes. :D

* SIG Sauer P226- Service pistol for the British Army

*sopapilla- A cinnamon and cheesecake cube of deliciousness. Look it up. :3


	5. Bulletproof

**A/N:** Inspired by two songs of the same name! One's by La Roux and the other is by Kerli (amazing Estonian artist). So as I said before, song suggestions are more than welcome. These are for you guys. Thanks for the support.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Bulletproof DMMWw Bulletproof DMMWw**

Harry sings the lyrics of the song as he cleans 221 A, smiling at Mrs. Hudson who brings him tea (for her, since he drinks coffee) every hour and a half and makes him take breaks. His phone is labeled with spells as opposed to people and he hates it when his labels are changed. It's usually Draco that does it; it irks him to no end. Sectumsempra is Severus. Point-Me (Sherlock), Expelliamus (John), Praecise intentum (Mycroft), Sana dolor (Draco), Nervus (Ron), Tranquillitas Animi (Hermione) and dozens of other spells are in his SIM card. Unless someone was a Wizard or versed in Latin they would never be able to use his phone if he lost it. He swallowed a mouthful of coffee and put his headphones back on for less than a second. Mrs. Hudson waves her hand frantically in front of him as he extends his hands toward the sink.

"Yes?" he pulls off his headphones for a moment.

"Umm, a Nervus is calling."

"Ah. Ignore my eccentricities Mrs. Hudson. At your service, please hold on the Avada until after you have spoken."

"Harry... That gets a bit old. We have a vic that shows no sign of cursing or Potions but there are extensive scars along the torso and there's blood everywhere." Ron laughed the exhaustion clear in his voice.

"I can't die. Perks of being what I am. I'm allowed to say that. Hmm, can I bring Sherlock in?"

"He wouldn't know what spell it was."

"He'd figure out enough for me to pin-point the spell work used." he hummed back as he snapped his fingers and the cleaning materials packed themselves, the flat being cleaned in record time by Harry's magic. "I'll be there shortly. I have to pick up Sherlock from his investigation."

Harry Apparated into an alley near the crime scene the crack muffled by the thick walls of the buildings. Striding in with his badge was easy, Donovan giving him a scowl.

"It was the husband. The defensive wounds should be hidden by his long-sleeved shirt. Usually he wears a short-sleeved shirt because he thinks it accentuates his shoulders. Bah, physical conventions are ridiculous." Sherlock's rich voice reaches him first before Donovan has had time to speak.

"I agree. There a scene where you're needed. It's my side of the house so... Care to come with?" Sherlock grinned and several new members (he could tell by the way they looked at him) leaned back in shock.

"Well? What are we waiting for? Is John coming with?"

"Mmm, no, but our forensics lady is more than willing to work with you." he absently muttered as he thought about Ron's coordinates. No normal Wizard could do that but they shared a bond far greater than just friends; they were family of the heart.

"And why is that?"

"Now, we need to hold hands and get into that alley before I explain." Sherlock's sapphire eyes narrowed in thought before he shrugged and shoved past Anderson on the way out. They linked hands as Harry replied, "You've already met her."

* * *

Not even an eyebrow is raised when he appears in the middle of the investigative huddle. Hermione scoffs and looks Sherlock over carefully, her chocolate eyes narrowing in thought. The intense, searching gaze is returned in sapphire eyes that are curious as his genius takes in the crime scene.

"...Blood's not all his. Several puddles are from the attacker, there, there and in the right-hand corner of the ceiling. Victim was very defensive. Something was obviously taken that was precious. A child, most likely a Wizarding child, age eight, dark haired and very talented at controlling his outbursts. Muggle-born, as there are no moving pictures save two or three and those are missing. Possibility of a relative with magic increased by 34% though there is the method of torture. It's not regular. Medieval techniques as you can see by the ligatures displayed on both the wrists and ankles. Rope burn, a... mace. Ah, a broadsword is what killed him. See the bloodstains that seeped into the floorboards. Why would-Hmm. Is there a curse that allows the take-over of the mind? This is not the cousin's fault, though I could say different about the woman the man's married to. Ring indicates signs of a controlling woman as well as obsessed with blood. You'll notice that not all of it is around the victim. Some is smeared along the wall in a- Oh, all of you get out! Your presence is lowering the IQ of the entire street." Sherlock spat suddenly, clearing the room of everyone expect for Harry and his two best mates. "Of course... There's a message in blood on the wall. 'You're next, Vanquisher. Watch your steps and those of the Talent. The moon's at its zenith in three days. Bring your brat and your lovers will live.' Non-traditional threat. Wording suggests-Harry? Do you have a child you take care of?"

"Teddy? What would he want with my godson? He's a lot older than this kid; he's-Oh, Merlin. He transforms on the full moon. They want his blood."

"Harry, only one ritual calls for the blood of a half-wolf." His gut instinct told him this wasn't good. "It's... bad."

"'Mione. Give it to me straight."

"It allows the receiver of the ritual the strength of a full werewolf with dark side-effects. They become insane and attack anything that moves or breathes. The innocent of the ritual is meant to balance out the Dark part. He has to be gutted like a fish and his blood to be spilt unwillingly. It's a horrible ritual with even more horrifying results." The instinct to protect Teddy is stronger than usual and Harry pulls out his two-way mirror that he'd gotten for Teddy when his godson was the same age as the kidnapped child.

"Cub?"

"Harry? You're lucky I'm in HoM. Prof Binns isn't even looking over here."

"Look, be on your guard."

"Another assassin?" It was a sad fact that others had tried to kill his only remaining link to his godfather and pseudo-godfather.

"Worse. Just... Don't go exploring in the dark by yourself. And watch anyone who seems to be watching you more than normal, okay?" he muttered, giving his godson a weak smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Mischief managed." He sighed as he found a patch of non-blood covered wall and leaned heavily on it.

"I hate this. There's more to this ritual, 'Mione. Don't lie to me, yeah?"

"They also inherit the Magic of the victims, but it's so twisted that the receiver often transforms and rips themselves to pieces." An ache formed in his heart at the news he wanted confirmed.

"Merlin, why doesn't this shite happen to anyone else?"

* * *

Resisting the urge to pull his cub from school, he scowled at the Aurors who gawked at his scar. Sherlock garnered their attention in a different way; they stared at him in awe (some of them blatantly checking out his lover).

"Kitten, why is it that they're staring at me?" Sherlock hummed into his unruly hair.

"I told you. I'm famous for reflecting a spell at an idiot who ruined my teenage years. Plus, you're hot." he grumbled as he spotted Rita trying to snap a picture, the poisonous (shite-eating) grin marring what could have been pretty features. "Watch out, we have paparazzi on our tail."

"Harry, darling, who is this gorgeous fella?"

"Sherlock."

"I thought you were married. Did you ditch Snapey?" Sherlock laughed and then spoke with lust, a calculating gleam in his eyes.

"Mmm, Severus is very... considerate."

"Ooo, so you're a triad?"

"Tetrad." his genius countered, flashing a predatory smirk in her direction. "John's my roommate."

"John?"

"I forgot to mention we're Talents." Amusement is shining out of cerulean eyes as he milks this for all of its worth. "May I see that?" She handed over the nasty green quill with a purple grip. Sherlock examined it for a moment before snapping it in half, grinning as the ink dries up to dust with his Talent. "Hmm. It's... fragile. Ms. Skeeter, I suggest you heed what I'm going to say. My brother is the British government and he knows of this world. Publish another thing about my Harry in a manner that displeases me, you will find yourself in a magic-free cell for the rest of your life." Harry gives a real smile in public for the first time since the defeat of the nut-job known as Voldemort. "I thought it would be a nice pre-gift for your birthday." A blush flashed across his face as he turned in Sherlock's arms to stand on tip-toe and kiss his genius quite thoroughly.

"Mmm, but today's Nev's birthday."

"I indulge you and you reprimand me on my timing? Only you, Harry, only you."

* * *

Sherlock manages to solve the crime by tracing the woman's magic through the earth. She's clearly off her rocker and she holds the child like he's the last thing on Earth.

"She promised... She promised me destruction if I slaid the innocent and the wolf cub."

"Who is She, exactly?" Harry asked softly, both hands up to show the panicked Witch he had no wand.

"She is everywhere, Vanquisher. But She circles around you most."

"Chaos? Hecate?" he murmured edging closer without seeming to, "Hel? Frey-Whoa!" Trusting his instincts, he dove to the side, not shocked to see the familiar green light. Damn, he should write a manual on the AK from the amount of times he's survived the thing. "Hey!"

"She is the All, foolish man. She is Kali." His mind flicked through the various Chaos goddesses before he hissed.

"So you want my cub and some innocent to suffer because you want to destroy shite? Not on my watch!" Stupid hero complex...

He sighed as John patched him up with a stern face.

"Next time, less heroics and more wand-waving kitten. We like you in one piece." his lover teases even as he leans back against Sherlock, finished in moments what would have taken weeks for a regular Healer to finish.

"Mmm, but you love me anyway." he hummed as Sherlock and Severus card their fingers through his hair absently.

"Always."

* * *

He opened his eyes to the smell of bacon; more specifically, Sherlock's bacon that no one else could replicate.

"Happy Birthday, kitten." comes the first greeting, followed by a soft, lingering kiss and a caress. "Made your favorite and John's out picking up coffee."

"Mmm, you guys are too much. Where's Sev?"

"Right here, my Seeker." Severus answered for Sherlock, stroking a stray hair away from his face. "What did you want to do today?"

"The zoo."

"Really? I heard the last time you visited one there was a whale instead of a green tree python."

"I wanted to talk with the Burmese. I haven't spoken to one yet." he evaded the curious look both John (who had brought back heaven in a cup) and Sherlock shot his way until he'd inhaled half of his coffee. "I can talk to snakes. It's the one thing I got from old Moldyshorts that I don't absolutely hate."

"Hmm. The usual for breakfast, Raven?"

"You read my mind."

The trip was uneventful until they got to Whipsnade Zoo. It was when the animals followed him to the edge of their enclosures that he realized that they were smelling his magic. He crooned at them, reassuring them that he was content. The reptiles went about their business; save the Burmese reticulated python, which hissed a greeting.

_A True Speaker. Welcome to this place._

_***How-***_

_Did I know you were the Speaker? Your magic is caressing all of us that are homesick. It is a feeling that is appreciated. Did the furred beasts also follow your moves?_

_***Yes. Why are they doing that?***_

_It is an ancient Law of the Mages. Where the Mage gives comfort the creature is to give thanks._

_***Thank you.***_

_Nay, Mage, it is we who thank you. Have a pleasant visit._

"Sir, were you... hissing at the snake?" the hesitant question came from a teenage boy.

"And if I was?" he drawled, shifting his weight to one foot as he leaned against his husband. "Hi, Sev."

"Who is this impertinent brat? Get lost." His husband growled, wrapping him into a possessive embrace and glaring at the teen. "Anywhere else you wanted to go, husband mine?"

"Mmm. Dunno, watch re-runs on the telly with John in my lap and Sherlock snogging you?"

"Harry, be serious."

"I am seriously Sirius." he laughed as his husband grimaced. "What did you have planned?"

"A nice dinner out. You can wear a turtleneck and that can be the extent of your formal wear."

"Good, 'cause that's all I'm accepting."

**Ending A/N:** Aww, Sev's still a possessive bastard (even when he's sharing Harry with John and Sherlock)... I take song requests, people! Siriusly. You see what I did there? :) Please drop a line in the review box, they make my day.


	6. Because of You

**A/N:** You know I probably should stop writing these. I really should, considering the lack of reviews and general fuck all people seem to give. But the Muses are stopping for no one and music inspires me more than it should at any given point. Thank you skydreamer22 (an anon; why didn't they sign in?) for pointing out that John's limp is psychosomatic as opposed to whatever I put in the first chapter. This chapter is inspired by Ne-Yo's song of the same title. Yeah, my taste in music is everywhere. I lied when I said this would remain a one-shot. Words with one of these (*) after it will be translated after the Ending A/N.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible... I don't own the titles of the songs, nor the songs themselves, any pieces or quotes mentioned.

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it. Heavy petting and kissing on a motorcycle.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

_**P.P.S. READ THIS SECOND! I researched all of the classic pieces and made sure they were actual pieces before I put them in. I did a lot of searching and listening to put in what I thought were decent pieces. Not only that, but since **someone** thought to correct my medical terms I also looked it up.**_

**DMMWw Because of You DMMWw Because of You DMMWw**

Severus tapped his foot along with Sherlock's violin playing, musing to himself that he wished he could play with their resident detective.

"You can play? Do you realize that you said that out loud?"

"Yes, though not as well as you can. My training was merely formal. Accio violin." he summoned it from its case under the bed, the bow still glistening from its last waxing. "It's been... years. The last time I played this was when my godson was a child." Severus bit his lower lip as he tuned his magical instrument. He winced as he had to re-adjust for the down bow. "I might be a tad rusty." He lost himself in the first song he had ever learned by heart, (Partita II BWV 1004 in D minor) closing his eyes as he let his muscles (and fingers) do what they remembered. The first notes soared out and Sherlock joined him, lost in a world where emotions were poured through a tiny instrument with strings and a bow. Soft clapping brought him out of the world of sound. He blushed as he saw John and Harry looking at him with gentle smiles.

"Amazing, you know that? Just when I think I know you... You come up with something like this. First the painting, then this; what else do you know how to do?" Harry chuckled as he took the violin and bow from him with a delicate grip, examining them before passing them back.

"I play piano, cello and the flute. I also find myself foolishly singing along to Caruso every once in a while." he remarked with a laugh, playing the violin part of Concerto No. 1 Op. 8 RV 269 (otherwise known as Spring by Vivaldi). Sherlock joined him with a wicked grin, not bothering to close the window as the notes flowed through his bow. Ah, why had he put down his favorite instrument?

* * *

Harry grinned as he tugged Severus down the stairs and into Mrs. Hudson's parlor. There was a baby grand sitting in the center of the room and he caressed the key protector lightly with his fingertips.

"Oh, Severus. Do you play?" their landlady asked, setting down a strong cup of Earl Grey.

"Once. My Mother taught me everything I know." He doesn't tell either of them that he gets up early on the anniversary of his Mum's death, Apparates to Hogwarts and plays her favorite song in the Room of Requirement. It feels like she's in there with him; it's years ago on a quiet day in Spinner's End when they sit together and create beauty out of their suffering.

"Sev?" His husband knows it's a sensitive subject with him.

"Just the one song, I suppose." He opens the protector and slides it into place as he takes a seat. At first it's just the playing of simple chords to warm his fingers up before they play of their own volition and memory. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata echoes in the airy room as he closes his eyes and remembers his Mum teaching him every last note of this piece.

**-FLASHBACK-**

_"Mummy, can you teach me how to play that?" Severus is seven and he knows that his Mummy only plays the pretty instrument when Dad's at work._

_"Why would you want to learn Beethoven, Sevvy?"_

_"It's pretty, like you... And kind of sad too." He's honest and one day that will get him in trouble, but for now, only his Mum knows of his painting and love of art._

_"Oh, Severus. Of course I'll teach you. But you have to learn other songs too."_

**-END FLASHBACK-**

Severus opens his eyes in time to see Harry grin mischievously and shove his fingers to the side, playing Für Elise with incredible dexterity.

"It looks like you aren't the only one that's musically inclined."

"So it would seem."

* * *

He's brewing Potions in the back of his apothecary when he gets a text from Sherlock. Hermione's done a great deal of integrating technology into magic.

_**Muggle crime scene; might have injested poison but cannot identify. Come if convenient. -SH**_

Not three seconds later another text buzzed his MagiCell.

_**Come anyways if inconvenient. -SH**_

Severus handed over his Potion to his Apprentice (Theodore Nott) and Apparated to his motorcycle, parked just outside of the Leaky. He snagged the helmet and threw on his leather duster. Wolf-whistles had him turning halfway around on his bike and staring them down.

"Hey, you wanna give a guy a ride?" One of the teens sidled up to his bike just as he's about to start it.

"No."

"Why not?" the tone was coy, something Severus despised.

"I'm married." With that sufficiently stupor-inducing response, he released the kickstand and roared down the road.

Arriving on-scene he put away the helmet and looked for Sherlock. Lestrade pointed up, a wry grin on his face.

"What is the idiotic grin for?"

"Sherlock can't identify the poison and he texted you."

"Hmph. Just because I'm somewhat of a police officer does not mean I do not have a second career. I'm a chemist as well." he snapped, striding into the flat as though he owned it. "Sherlock?"

"The signs point to Wolfsbane but I've never seen this type of poisoning before. I have everything figured out but the method." came the disgruntled reply as he knelt and examined the victim with a practiced eye.

"That's because it wasn't just Wolfsbane. It's also Roman wormwood, mixed into his drink, which he was allergic to. See the swelling? Anaphylaxis."

"I knew I could place the anise smell." The familiar sapphire lit up with contentment. "There's a production of the Nutcracker at the Royal Opera House."

"I was going to ask you since Harry is disinclined to join me."

"John's not really fond of it either, but he does go with me on occasion. You have tickets?"

"I have tickets to everything. Rest assured Mycroft will not have to give you tickets to an event he does not want to go to." he waved off the looks of caution and superstition as he chatted with Sherlock about music. He caught the tail end of a conversation between two new officers even as Sherlock rummaged around for the second helmet in his saddle-bags.

"What's a guy like that doing talking to Holmes?" came the plaintive question of the first, a young woman if he was any guess.

"He said he was a chemist and he seemed to get along with the guy. Donovan hates Holmes's guts... Or she envies him. Either way, the guy's just really smart." This voice was that of an older male, closer to his husband's age. "Did you see the ring? The guy's married. Don't even think of trying to seduce him. Plus, I heard that they're involved."

"He's married and _cheating_?" Severus shuddered at her excited tone. No, just... No.

"No, apparently it's a mutual thing. Holmes said it was a tetrad."

"Oh."

"They're talking about us. Want to give them something else to talk about?" he asked, fixing the buckle under Sherlock's chin. Their breath swirled about them in white plumes, indicating the lateness of the year.

A cheeky grin crossed Sherlock's face before he was being quite thoroughly kissed and bent against his bike. He hummed into Sherlock's mouth, stroking his tongue along his lover's, his gloved fingers twisted into Sherlock's shirt. Slim fingers slide up underneath his duster, crooking into pseudo-claws as he nipped the lush lips pressed against his own. "Dyna oedd hyfryd, er fy mod yn meddwl ein bod yn eu creithio." he whispered in Welsh, knowing that Sherlock understood him perfectly. "Efallai y dylem adael nawr?"*

"Oes, cyn i ni achosi gwaedlifau o'r trwyn. Mae'r Americanwyr yn syllu ar ni."** Sherlock chuckled softly as he pulled Severus upright and giving Lestrade the information he needed in English. "It was the jealous next-door neighbor. She grew wormwood on her windowsill. Search for dried herbs."

"What do herbs have to do-"

"Fool. It was Roman wormwood and Wolfsbane combined into a deadly poison disguised as a healthy tea. The herbs are not deadly unless steeped in water or ground into a fine powder to put into drink. Too much wormwood leads to supposed madness whilst Wolfsbane is a poison all of its own. Merlin, if I knew what I'd be teaching..." he sneered at Anderson, taking the idiot down a peg or two. "The man was allergic to wormwood, thus his death. He told his neighbor of this in case of an emergency. Who is his closest neighbor? The one who conveniently has dried herbs on hand and was having a relationship with him."

"How did you know that?"

"Useless, the lot of you. Used condom in the trash." The vitriolic 'imbicil' was left unsaid. His breath left his mouth like he was a dragon spitting fire.

"We're going to be late if we stay any longer, Sev."

"Indeed."

* * *

The seguing notes of the Nutcracker had him relaxing in his box seat. Both he and Sherlock were dressed in opera-appropriate clothing; Sherlock in a black tuxedo with an elegant white scarf that brought out the vividness of his sapphire eyes and himself in a black tuxedo with a green scarf that reminded him of Harry's eyes. Their coats had been taken at the entrance and checked in.

"Ah. Just the beauty of Tchaikovsky and a companion that delights the senses." he murmured right before the ballet started.

"Any subject is good for opera if the composer feels it so intently that he must sing it out." Sherlock countered with a grin.

"Menotti?" he guessed as Clara was swept away by the Nutcracker Prince.

"Ooo, you're good." After a while, he got lost in the rhythm of the music as it washed over his senses. His mind snapped back into reality as the last song, Waltz of the Flowers, ended. "That was a sublime performance."

"Mmm, the violinist is new this year."

"You heard it too? They should have told him to practice more with the orchestra." he said to Sherlock as they collected their coats.

"I thought it was a woman. I always miss something."

"It's easy to mistake the bow stroke of a younger male with that of a woman. They play lighter." Severus reassured their resident genius. His MagiCell rang and he answered it without pause, "Snape."

"Hi, Sev. Umm, Molly's invited all of us to dinner." Harry's voice made him smile.

"Right now? We just stepped out of the ROH."

"Still in the tux? Mmm. Molly said it was semi-formal. Hold on." He sighed at Harry's absent-mindedness, playing with Sherlock's fingers as they sat on the cleared bench. "She says the tuxes are fine. John's already pulling out his suit and so am I. We'll meet you there. Love you. Give Sherlock a kiss for me, okay?"

"Of course Harry." He kissed Sherlock softly, contentment humming through his veins as he playfully nipped at the warm lips.

"He told you to kiss me." the amusement is clear in Sherlock's voice.

"Mmmhmm. We're supposed to go to the Burrow." He caught up his lover's hand and led him over to the street corner. "Hold on, I'll call a Knight Taxi."

"What's that?"

"See, in the Wizarding World, there is a bus that comes when a Wizard or Witch holds out their wands. Those with Talent merely hold out their index and middle fingers. The Knight Taxi is a smaller, more comfortable ride than the bus."

"Ah. You manage to spill everything important and yet details like this slip past your mind." Sherlock teases gently as they wait for the Taxi to arrive.

"They are an everyday item for a Wizard who-Ah. We could Apparate, if you'd like that instead." he offered quietly as the Knight Taxi screeched to a halt.

"I prefer the Floo. Apparation leaves me dizzy, to be honest. I'll be fine for several moments after but any longer and I get violently sick. Thank you." Severus opened the door for his lover and slid into the back with him.

"The Leaky."

"Do you have a card?"

"Mmm, here." He handed it up to the driver and there was a sharp gasp. "Lovely. Shall I get out now?" His reputation was something of a double-edged blade when it came to transportation; some revered him, some hated him on sight and very few just didn't care.

"No sir. You're a hero to my family. You saved my Da."

"Our destination?" Sherlock drawled, drumming his fingers on the sill of the window.

"Of course, sir." They started forward and the cabbie insisted on chatting with them. "How is it you know the Professor?"

"... We're lovers."

"Oh."

"Wipe that look from your face. Harry's well aware and he's with the remainder of our tetrad." Sherlock sneered, "Sev, I thought they read the Daily Prophet?"

"Most do, sir, but I read the Quibbler."

"I wasn't talking to you, idiot. Harry's little blonde friend? Mmph."

"Luna's working on it." he assured Sherlock, "Mind your business." was directed at the chagrined cabbie.

"That'll be seven Sickles." He sighed and handed over the silver, getting a receipt in return. "Here's your card, sir."

The cheery atmosphere in the Leaky Cauldron was, as always, a relaxant to Severus.

"Tom, I need to use your Floo." he said simply to the barman as he (wandlessly scrubbed the spot, because even if Tom cleaned the bar it was still nasty) placed his elbow to lean forward.

"Can do, Mr. Snape."

"Excellent."

"Back this way." He tugged Sherlock away from a fascinated group of goblins and pub-goers as he deduced them. "That one's yours?"

"One of what?"

"Your kids." Severus choked on his intake, clearing his throat as he breathed in fresh air.

"No! I do not have any whining, sniveling brats. Sherlock is my lover."

Sherlock started laughing at the wrongful assumption, "Oh, this is _**priceless**_. I have to tell John that."

"John's only four years older than you, you imbicil." there is no bite in his answer, Sherlock's amusement making him smile.

"Harry's gotten the end of one of those announcements?" comes the curiosity he knew would happen sooner or later.

"No. They either flock or flee, depending on Harry's expression." he remarked lightly, grabbing a pinchful of powder and tightening his grip on Sherlock's hand. "You might want to hold tight."

"Alright."

"The Burrow!" The flames flashed bright Avada green and then they stepped into the emerald vortex.

He strode gracefully out of the fireplace, spelling the ashes off of them both as he flicks soot from his pristine boots. Sherlock looks around with his mind going kilometers per second, the cobalt glowing slightly as he gleans information via his Talents.

"A well-balanced family. Harry's been their child since some time in his second year." Severus hears the ache in Sherlock's voice and holds him, stroking the soft ebony curls as his lover takes in deep breaths.

"She's been taken care of, genius. Molly will cuddle you and John to death."

"Hello Severus. And who's this?" her voice is soft, dropping into the mother Severus knew so well.

"Molly this is Sherlock Holmes. Genius, this is Molly Weasley."

**Ending A/N:** Oh ho! I have your attention. Perhaps you will be appeased, perhaps not. Bah. These are for me as much as they are for you. Enjoy this and REVIEW! I won't hold my chapter hostage like some authors I know but I'd appreciate some form of applause, you know. Seriously. Still taking song suggestions.

* That was delightful, though I think we scarred them. Perhaps we should leave now?

** Yes, before we cause nosebleeds. The Americans are stating at us.


	7. Shooting Star

**A/N:** Okay. Thank Reader-anonymous-writer for that wonderful review! This was going to be DISCONTINUED because I felt this was not getting enough attention. But since someone is still reading what I wrote, you all get another chapter. Lots of fluff because I had angst in my system that needed fluff to combat it. Inspired by the song of the same name by Owl City. I'm still taking song suggestions! Words with one of these (*) at the end will be translated after the Ending A/N.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Shooting Star DMMWw Shooting Star DMMWw**

John's in awe of the crooked structure that stands on the horizon, his mind at peace as it hasn't been for weeks now. This place has the feel of a _home _ just like Baker Street. When Harry leads him to the Floo Room he sees something that makes him smile. Sherlock's in the embrace of a short red-haired woman who radiates maternity and warmth.

"Oh, you must be John." Her soft brown eyes give him a once over before he's in the warm hold, relaxing into her as his Empathy is amplified. "An Empath? Harry, you do know how to pick them, don't you?" her tone is light but her words are laced with a protectiveness of a mother bear. "Sit, sit. You're far too skinny." She flicks her wand in what appears to be a movement so familiar that she's not even looking as she Summons tea and biscuits. Sherlock is examining his tea with the air of one who has been comforted and doesn't know what to say.

"These are delicious, Mrs. Weasley." the polite words just roll off of his tongue without him allowing them.

"Pish-posh. Call me Molly." He laughs at her offended tone.

"Molly, when are the others arriving?" Severus asks, Harry lounging in his lap as though the younger man belongs there (which he does). Sherlock's kidnapped him from his chair and is drinking his tea while rubbing at his neck. His lover knows where all the tense muscles are after a day at the clinic. He makes a sound like a purring cat and relaxes into the touch.

"They'll arrive sooner or later. John, you look tired."

"I'm a doctor at a clinic in London. It's exhausting. Sher, a little to the-Ah. Magic fingers, I swear." Sherlock cuddles him close, the normally inquisitive sapphire eyes half-closed with contentment. "Bad day with Donovan?"

"Mmm-mmm. I just wanted a little cuddle time with you. You've been busy lately." comes the slightly muffled response.

"I know. Sarah and I have been driven up the wall with all of the flus & common colds coming in on top of our regular workload." he hummed back, enjoying the feel of the slender fingers sliding through his hair and massaging his scalp. "Harry, are all of your friends coming to this dinner?" He opens his eyes to see his lover's reaction. The verdant eyes wrinkled at the edges as Harry laughs at his worried tone.

"They'll love you guys. Sherlock because of his humor and you because Sherlock swears you're made of kittens and marshmallows."

"I am not! I'm capable of defending myself..." he protested from Sherlock's lap, sighing as his lover carded through his hair again. "You're cheating." John grumbles up at Sherlock. Their resident genius merely smiles and continues to make him a pile of contented John goo.

"I don't cheat. I'm exploiting your weakness for petting."

John replied with a happy sigh, closing his eyes and ignoring the 'Aww' coming from Molly.

"Is that your doctor, Harry?" He opens his eyes at the addition of a new voice. It's the woman from their rescue of Harry and Sherlock several months prior.

"John Watson, ma'am."

"Ma'am? Oh. You were there." John gives her a wry grin and extends his hand even as Sherlock recaptures it.

"Sherlock..." he admonishes, hazel eyes flashing golden for a moment.

"She has no shields up. You could get overloaded if you shake her hand now." The concern lacing Sherlock's normally cocky tone is heart-warming. As much as Sherlock likes to pretend he does not care, his actions say exactly the opposite and John would not have him any other way.

"My hero." he laughs lightly as he leans up for a kiss. Their lips meet and it's far from chaste. John blushes as he pulls away, Sherlock's possessive touch making him happier than it should. "So, can I shake her hand now?"

"I have my shields up. My name's Hermione, by the way."

"Nice to meet one of Harry's best mates." he said without rancor. "Though we could have met under better circumstances." When his palm connected with hers, his Empathy reacted and touched her emotions; he was shocked that his abilities were reaching out on their own. "Ah, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." When she pulled away, he blinked as Sherlock offered him a pair of black gloves but in an obviously smaller size.

"My Sight said you'd be needing these. You're in tune with the rest of us but not everyone who is on their way. It won't happen again after tonight." Sherlock's normally rich tone was hoarse and slightly raspy, proof of his Talent being active.

"Thank you, Sherlock." he pulls on the gloves, flexing his fingers as the leather adjusts to his hands. "What would I do without you?"

"Be bored out of your skull and drink tea with Mike Stamford." came the prompt response. John elbowed Sherlock lightly, shaking his head. "What?"

"Tact, genius, tact is important for first impressions."

"You know I don't care for social niceties." Sherlock hums back, using the argument to shift him farther into his lap. "Especially if they have to do with tact."

"The word normal isn't in our vocabulary, I know, genius."

* * *

At least now John has names to the faces that helped him rescue his lovers. He's particularly good with Harry's godson, Teddy, as Sherlock is with Arthur and William (call-me-Bill).

"So... Uh, how'd you meet again?"

John laughed, remembering the incident which had started it all. "Sherlock poisoned the sugar."

"He poisoned the sugar. Why?"

"He was running an experiment that involved sucrose and poisons. Never mind that he labeled the container with the words 'DO NOT TOUCH, HAS DANGEROUS POISON IN IT' on the plastic lid. I'd told him the evening before that I needed it for a dessert I like making called sopapilla. So, I knocked on the door of 221 A and your Uncle Severus opened the door."

"Huh. That's weird. Usually Harry answers it. Well, he must've been busy."

"I was cub. I had dinner cooking on the stove when I heard the knock and the stasis charms took a few more seconds than planned." Harry sat down in his lap, making him wrap an arm absently around Harry's waist to keep him from falling.

"You're really close, huh?" John looked up at Harry and received a brilliant smile in return.

"Yes, we are."

"But-"

"Sherlock and Severus are just as close to us as we are to them. It's a common misconception that we really don't bother to correct most of the time." he said with a smile as Sherlock takes the seat next to him.

"I was jealous that John spent time with Harry when I'd been living next to them for nearly a decade with no invitation. They made for very mysterious neighbors." Sherlock adds with an adorable pout (though John would never tell him it was).

"We did not! I went to St. Mungo's and to my house appointments. Severus went to his Apothecary. Just because we dressed normal didn't mean anything." Harry protested with a grin.

"Your hands didn't show the signs John's do. The calluses threw me off as well. Severus managed to make his body language nonexistent and his habits were either limited to painter or pianist." Sherlock protested, gesturing with his hands. "Then there was the kissing."

"The way we kiss? What's wrong with it?"

"Yes. Sometimes it was fierce and sometimes it was beyond chaste." John sat up straight as he remembered the dogs. "Mrs. Hudson is feeding them and Estragon. It's fine. They're well-behaved animals." He relaxed again, reassured that their animals were being taken care of by their landlady.

"Wait, Harry, you didn't mention other animals..."

"Mozart is a wolf-dog hybrid and Gladstone is an English bulldog. They're Sherlock and John's familiars, to be respectful, Teddy."

"Oh. Victoire and I are dating."

"Fleur's girl? Hmm. Be careful, cub." Harry's voice holds a warning that John knows is due to his fame.

"I know, Harry, but she's not like that."

"I trust your judgment."

* * *

That dinner sparked several others as the season continued. Harry was getting nauseated while Flooing and John had an odd feeling after one such dinner.

"Harry, sit down." His green-eyed minx sat without protest which meant that he really was sick. He took off his glove and pressed it against Harry's bare stomach, sending his Talent through his lover to search for the illness. John was astonished to find another magical signature responding to his touch. "Harry... When were you going to tell us?" he asks quietly, barely suppressing his joy.

"What? Oh, I knew something was wrong. I was going to ask Theo to check me after New Year's... Do you know what it is?" Anxious green eyes met tawny-flecked hazel.

"Do I know? We've barely started tapping into what I can do. What I can tell you is that there's another magical signature reacting to my Talent." Harry gasped and his slender hands flew to his stomach.

"Oh, John..." his lover trailed off, obviously feeling the tiny signature. "It's beautiful."

"What's beautiful?" Severus asked as he strode into the room with a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other, reading the text while deftly avoiding the animals stretched out on the floor of the flat.

"Sev, you might want to sit down." Severus placed his tea on the end table and marked his book with a slip of paper. "Sherlock!"

"No need to shout, kitten. I'm making hot chocolate. You want any?" came the amused answer.

"Yes, I would."

"John?"

"Tea, if you would, Sherlock." he absent-mindedly replied. Their resident genius wound his way to the couch, handing Harry his cup of chocolate. He scooped up John as he gave him tea and settled down in the armchair.

"Well?"

"John... Umm... He detected another signature when he ran his Talent through me." Harry manages to say, squeaking as Severus wraps him in a bear-hug.

"Really?" their lanky Potions Master breathes a very uncharacteristic grin on his face. "Husband mine, you know what this means." Harry stared up into his husband's eyes and giggled.

"You'll wait on me hand and foot?"

"Mmm, there is that." there's a sly grin now, something more suited to Severus's personality.

"Don't you dare tell Molly or 'Mione." Harry tells Severus as Sherlock takes in the astonishing information.

"Who's is it?" the sobering question makes John shrug.

"It's too early to tell, Sherlock. You should go feel it." The sapphire eyes are unsure as his lover kneels before Harry and places his hand on the child. They widen as the signature flares, softening minutely as he shifts his hand to a different spot. Harry laughs at his concentrated face.

"Quiet you." comes the stern admonishment. "It's following my hand."

"I know, silly." Harry shakes his head at Sherlock's seriousness. "I can feel it too."

The news was kept quiet but they were more protective of Harry and it was noticed by the people closest to them.

"So, why so close to Harry all of a sudden?" Sarah asked as they were filing patient's personal information.

"... You noticed?" John hummed, trying not to panic and was relieved when she switched topic (sort of).

"All of you are really close. Umm, are you guys..."

"Together, together? Yeah." he was used to reactions of him together with three other men.

"Even the guy with long hair?"

"Yes, Sarah." This time he had a note of warning in his voice.

"Damn. He's really hot."

John choked on his next breath trying not to laugh, coughing as he managed to breathe again. "He's gay and Harry's his husband."

"So, it was you and Sherlock, then it was you and those two?"

"It's hard to explain. We're together and yet we can be completely different couples." he tried to tell her what he thought. "I have a different relationship with each of them but they're intertwined."

"I still don't get it."

John laughed as they finished. "Sometimes I don't either, to be honest."

"But you're all really sweet on Harry."

"You know Harry, though. He deserves to be spoiled." John defends, smiling at the thought of his green-eyed minx.

"Do you ever fight?" she asks as they lock up.

"All the time and over anything at all. Hell, we argue over whose turn it is to cook breakfast. Severus and Sherlock know not to touch the kitchen though." She laughed at his tone. "Sherlock makes some ridiculously good bacon though. I don't know what his secret is."

"I live with you." comes the answer in the form of Sherlock, who is leaning against the wall. "Good evening Sarah. Mind if I steal John?"

"Go right ahead." she answers blithely, her eyes travelling up his lover's tall form. He stalks over to Sherlock and kisses him fiercely, staking his claim over the taller male.

"Not that I didn't enjoy the kiss wolf, but why was it so full of possessiveness?" Sherlock whispers as he hides his cold nose in John's scarf.

"You're mine." he growled, sinking his fingers into snow-dusted curls.

"Mmm, I am most certainly that." The nonchalant answer made him confess.

"... She was staring at you like she wanted you." he admitted reluctantly. "You're ours and I don't like it when they think you're available."

"Ah. Severus and Harry have a nice resturaunt booked in Wizarding London. We have to go and get robes." The sapphire he loved so well was excited as he practically dragged John to what looked like a pub. "Look closely."

"What am I supposed to-Oh. They can't see it." he understood as non-magical people walked right past the dirty pub that had a rickety old sign that couldn't be true. "Am I seeing things right? Established in 1269?"

"You think that's bad, wolf, try their wand shop. Best wands since 300." John cracked up laughing as his mind made the connection to the Spartan movie. "What is so funny?"

"The movie."

"That is rather amusing." Sherlock laughed as they entered the Leaky Cauldron. They were looked at with curious gazes before the patrons went back to their drinks and gossip. "Come. Tom, the alley?"

"Certainly, Mr. Holmes." The old bartender tapped out a sequence on the bricks in the back of the pub with his wand. "May I ask where you are going?"

"No." Sherlock said with his usual tone, frosty with a side of sarcasm.

* * *

Diagon Alley was amazing in the winter season even with the cold snap. He grinned as Sherlock tugged him from one place to another, his cobalt eyes alight with joy. When they arrived at the shop they were supposed to be at Severus chuckled at the sight of them both.

"Well, how was your tour, little wolf?"

"This place is brilliant. Is this where we get our robes?"

"Harry's already inside." They slipped inside of the shop, John amazed when it was bigger on the inside than it was from the outside. "Expansion Charm. How was work?" Severus asked as he claimed John's other hand in his much larger one.

"Good. Sarah was eyeing Sherlock."

"Apparently he had to set her straight on whom I belonged to." Sherlock scoffed, threading their fingers together and kissing the back of his hand.

"Exactly. Can I have my hands back?"

The two taller males exchanged a smile and answered in unison, "No."

"Harry!" he whined as he spotted their green-eyed minx.

"They're being silly and possessive. Let them have their fun." Harry laughed even as he stepped down from the stool and apparently self-measuring tape. The blond Wizard was frowning at the measurements around Harry's waist. "Draco, frowns make you old."

"Your measurements changed and you insist on a nice set of robes for four-Oh my Merlin. Who's this?" Sherlock and Severus were gently shoved away as the blond (Draco, apparently) looked him over. "Turn around please?" John shrugged and obliged with a bemused grin. "Excellent. I like this one, Potter."

"He's perfect for one of your crazy designs?" came the amused answer.

"Oh you have no idea... The gold and emerald will be wonderful." Harry's eyes widened at the mention. John wondered what that was all about.

"You're sure? You worked like the devil on that one."

"Quite sure, Potter, and I will not find a better match. His eyes will work extremely well with the robes. Hmm, the hair will have to be grown out."

"Grow out my hair? Harry..." John was starting to like this less and less.

"Quit being such a child. I only meant a few centimeters, just enough to shadow those eyes of yours."

* * *

John fidgeted as the staff of the resturaunt stared at him.

"Why am I the center of attention?" he whispered at Harry, who was resplendent in a silver and dark green velvet robe. Severus was in gold and black, Sherlock in ice-blue and silver. His robes were the most detailed, golden thread depicting phoenixes in flight across the back of the spring green robes. The sleeves were even more elaborate, hanging from the robe at the elbow like a Renaissance outfit. It had taken nearly an hour to get the whole thing on. He supposed they looked much like royalty. That thought caused him to laugh.

"Draco's designs are almost never worn in public. That you are voluntarily wearing it and look comfortable means he _gave_ it to you and therefore you are the envy of every Witch and/or Wizard in this place." came Harry's amused reply.

"I take it this doesn't happen very often?" he questioned as they were sat down in the private sector of the fancy restaurant.

"The last time he gave away a design was to me. It's been nearly a decade since he's been so taken with a Muse. He's a fantastic tailor and an even better politician."

"That's a good thing then. I was reluctant at first but you like the fact that the attention isn't focused on you for once, don't you?" he answered as their orders were placed in front of them. "What do you mean by a Muse?"

"He's found inspiration with you. It's complicated."

"Isn't everything?" he countered, drawing in their other lovers.

* * *

It's obvious by the end of winter that Harry is nervous.

"Minx, what's wrong?"

"It's about this time that the signature can be matched with its creator's." Harry admits softly, sighing as they cook breakfast.

"So? They won't be loved any less." he says flippantly, deliberately stroking over the tiny bump as he reaches for the paper towels.

"Indeed, kitten, so why the worry?" Sherlock hums as he embraces Harry from behind.

"It's just... I was never accepted by anyone in my family before the Weasleys-"

"Then they can sod off." John cut off Harry's insecure speech, serving the food before he cupped Harry's face with his hand and ran his thumbs across Harry's cheekbones. "Now, come eat with us. Your check-up is in two hours. Severus is pacing and you need to calm him down." Harry is immediately cuddled close to their oldest lover, soft words in Welsh causing Harry to relax completely into Severus's arms.

"Husband mine, your worry is more than enough for us all." the soothing bass is exactly what all of them need.

Theodore Nott, the pediatrician Healer, is calm and John appreciates that he soothes Harry with a few gestures.

"Let's see, I'll need each of you to stick out your wand arm." Severus stuck out his left, Sherlock stuck out both and John his right. Nott smirked at Sherlock before putting the right down with a slight push. "I know which is your dominant. I was just testing your honesty."

"Theo!" Harry admonished the man, frowning.

"Sorry. Invenire pater.* We're looking for a bright purple-Ah. That was quick." The color hovered above both Severus and Sherlock. "Fraternal twins." Sherlock looked like he'd stopped thinking. Severus had no such qualms and scooped Harry up off of the exam table humming into Harry's neck. Just as Sherlock snapped out of his shock, John smiled.

"That's not possible, is it?"

"Sher, you're Talented. Magic's a part of you." John wasn't shocked that both Severus and Sherlock were the parents.

"So are you. Why me? It took me months to speak normally with Mycroft... You would make the better parent."

"I would-"

"Hold up. Come here, Healer Watson." Nott cut off his answer with a hand gesture. "Hold out your arm again. Invenire Magus.*" His entire arm glowed a brilliant purple and Nott sat down hard on his seat.

"Magus? Theo, do it again." Harry said sharply.

"Invenire Magus." This time his arm brightened to almost blinding before fading out. "It's the same result, Harry. You have a Mage along with two powerful siblings in you."

"Triplets. It figures I can never catch a break." Harry laughed in the middle of their hug.

**Ending A/N:** And, done. Now, if my newest Muse would leave me alone for five minutes then maybe I can work on Folklore instead of these. But, no, it's always me chasing after my Muses and putting down what they want as opposed to vice versa. The life of a writer is hard... *sigh* Please review! They are my motivation to continue this!

*Find father

*Find Mage


	8. Voodoo Strut

**A/N:** Blame the fic Music Again by julesmonster for giving me an excuse to write to Adam Lambert songs. Halle-fuckin'-luja. Inspired by Voodoo and Strut, therefore the title. Thought I should point out that Harry is _not_ shorter than all of them. As a matter of fact, _**John**_ is the shortest of the bunch. *smug grin* My HP characters go by book standards and Harry's pretty tall by the end of Book 7, so there. Severus's height is never actually specified and Sherlock is 1.84 meters because Benedict is. Why do I have to explain this? *sigh* Just because a character can have kids doesn't mean that they're diminutive or unable to handle whatever is thrown their way. I'm still taking song suggestions! Words with one of these (*) at the end will be translated after the Ending A/N. Question, does anyone actually read the crap I write up here before the story?

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC**_. As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Voodoo Strut DMMWw Voodoo Strut DMMWw**

Harry hates the press. That is never clearer when he's accosted on his way to work by none other than Rita Skeeter.

"So, Harry, darling-"

He snarls as he takes the quill and snaps it. "I am _not _ your darling and if you get in my way again, so help me _Merlin_, they will be picking pieces of you _**off the walls**_. My personal life is just that, _personal_. Get out of my sight before I change my mind!" The hormones are the worst part about his pregnancy. One minute he's full of joy and the next he wants to kill something. Severus was right about them waiting on him hand and foot. John's the most patient of the tetrad, while Sherlock happens to be the one he cries on. Severus is his rock in all of this crazy. He regrets snarling at Rita as soon as the mood passes. They had a good working relationship but she really had been on his case lately. He huffs and lays an absent hand on his small bump.

"Potter, stop day-dreaming." Hannah Abbot barked as she turned her wand on a heavily-bleeding Auror Harry thought he knew.

"Potter-Snape." he absently corrected for what seemed the millionth time in a decade. "Mundare vulnus. Reparatione musculi. Sana cute.* I wasn't day-dreaming."

"It looked like you were. Theo's been excited since you went to go see him with those three blokes. Aren't you married to Snape?"

"Yes. I also share two lovers with him." Harry can feel his anger rising and suppresses it.

"What? So neither of them is avaliable for a date?" her incredulity irratates him. The story's been in the newspaper for a full three months now.

"No, Abbot, they aren't."

"I mean, what do you have that I don't?" This time the floor cracks with his restrained temper, his magic thrumming in time with his heart-beat. "I have flawless skin-"

"Potter-Snape! Calm yourself." Theo says firmly once he spots the magic that's roiling around him. His MagiCell rings at exactly that moment.

"Harry? Sher says he felt a disturbance in his Dominis Locare."

"I'm not in a good mood at the moment." he says, tension leaving his shoulders as he hears Sherlock making noises in the background. "Some _bint _ thought it was a good idea to go on about how so much better she is for you than me." The silence on the other end is nerve-wracking before he hears Sherlock's voice.

"John's on his way to pick you up and yell at her in person."

Sure enough, not ten minutes later, John strolls in like he owns the place with his firm military stride and stance (Harry also gets slightly turned on by this too, but he's not telling John that).

"Kitten." Theo nods to him and then to John, noticing the murderous expression on John's normally peaceful face. "Where is she?"

"In Op Room One." comes the flat answer. He won't be able to work with her for several months after the birth of the triplets because he might kill her for her assumptions. They're in Theo's office, Harry playing with a blue quill from off of the desk.

"I'm taking you home after you sign for paternity leave." there is no arguing with John when his eyes become that golden color and his voice is harsh.

"Glad it's you telling him that instead of me." Theo laughs, handing in the paperwork Harry knows he's had for three months. "You're free to come back and consult on a Healing job, but nothing stressful. You're through the first trimester, not all of it." John's expression softens as he takes Harry's hand, the hard line of his shoulders dropping as the threat seems to be non-existent for now.

"'Sokay. They've been trying to tell me that for the past three months." Harry admits wryly as they walk the length of the hall casually avoiding the other Healers with ease.

"Why aren't we using the Floo?" Theo asks, his eyebrow raising as they continued to the entrance, Harry encasing his children in a Glamoure and Shield Charm combined.

"Have you seen me use it to get to work?" he asks patiently, lacing his fingers with John's.

"Well, no..."

"It's because he gets sick." John smiles as he guides Harry around a particularly annoying patient in the waiting room. "The last time he Flooed he decorated Sherlock with his recent lunch."

"And we can't Apparate. So it's either a taxi or John's car."

"Oh."

"Mr. Potter!"

"It's Potter-Snape. What is it?" he sighs, one hand on the Elder wand and the other secure in John's grip.

"Is it true? You're pregnant?" Harry takes a deep breath and levels the shaky reporter with a glare that could make even the hardest of criminals piss themselves.

"That isn't any of your business." It's John who answers, his gaze calm (scarily so). "I suggest you go back from where you came from."

"And you are?"

"Harry, are they all this stupid?" Harry burst out laughing at John's genuine question. "I'm serious. That article was out three months ago, had our pictures and everything. Maybe we should ask for a reprint?" The man's eyes widen as he _finally _ gets who he's talking to.

"My apologies Mr. Watson." John merely huffs and whistles for a Knight Taxi. "Can you confirm this rumor?"

"It's Doctor Watson, actually. Let me guess... A Healer gave you the information." his lover's tone is flat, bordering on the side of apathy.

"Well, yes."

"Don't you people have confidentiality agreements?" comes the question. Oh, John's good; where had he been hiding that?

"Yes, we most certainly do. What-Oh."

"I believe that even here that is called scandal and misappropriated information. I suggest you ask your _**source **_ where they got the information from." the last line is delivered with a wolfish grin. "I wouldn't want to keep you from uncovering a scandal." By the speed from which the Wizard Apparated, he clearly was a newbie in the newspaper business. Harry was laughing so hard that tears were coming out the corners of his eyes.

"W-Where were you hiding that?" he manages to say after his laughter.

"Hiding what?"

"That Slytherin side."

"He was harassing you. Why not give him a taste of his own medicine?"

* * *

Sherlock's in the middle of a case, so he drags John off immediately after they get home. Severus gives him a small smile and tugs him down gently to feel the triplets.

"They're rambunctious already, my Seeker." the quiet voice of his husband is comforting. It's nice to sit and soak in the presence of his lanky, lithe Potions Master.

"This is relaxing, Sev."

"Mmm, I am in agreement. Perhaps a week away?" the velvet bass of his husband answers.

"Really? But where? I don't want reporters ruining our days together."

"France. Sherlock and I speak perfect French."

"But John and I don't." he protests faintly.

"You speak Parseltongue; John's very good with Pashtu and Dari. I doubt you need to speak another language." comes the laughing reassurance.

"Sherlock's been teaching me Welsh and he says I'm a natural."

His husband purred softly as he nibbled on Harry's neck, obsidian eyes half-lidded, "Has he now?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Rwy'n dy garu di.*"Severus whispered as he ran feather-light strokes up and down Harry's spine.

"Rwyf wrth fy mods i chi hefyd. Bod yn teimlo'n dda.*" Harry hummed back as he kissed his lover senseless.

They're cuddled on the couch when John and Sherlock return; the former exhausted the latter casting worried glances at his lover.

"John, what do you think about a vacation to France?" he asks as he finishes his mouthful of Bulgogi. John looks up from where he placed his head on Sherlock's thigh, dark circles under his eyes.

"France? But-"

"John, my stubborn wolf, you are tired all the time. You get up to take shifts that are not your own. We're worried." Sherlock was the one to speak up first, worry in the brilliant sapphire eyes.

"Oh. I didn't mean to, I just..."

"I understand. However, your body is exhausted. You should take a break." comes Severus's soothing response. "A week in France it is then. No more, no less; Sherlock and I will take care of you both."

"..." John blushes as Sherlock starts massaging his shoulders, then falls limp, a sound that's suspiciously like a purr coming from their now-relaxed lover. "Okay, I'll go." Harry cheers from his position in Severus's lap.

"I will not take any cases."

"Take a few, Sherlock. I know you'll get bored in France." he laughs as Sherlock's cheeks become a dusky rose color. "Your mind can only be occupied by us most of the time."

"I can turn my attention to more suitable subjects. My mind isn't one-track." Sherlock protested even as he massaged John into sleep.

"I know you. I'm also pretty sure if you didn't, Mycroft would send you some anyway." Severus answered, "I will be taking my Potions kit. John will most likely take at least a few patient files. Harry has his own ways of amusement."

"It's just a little bit of time away from England. We'll be back soon enough and you can happily get back to it. Just this week, can we be us?" he asks quietly, "I mean, between cases, patients and Potions, we've barely _seen_ each other." He let that sink in as he snagged another take-out box. "This is the longest we've been together in weeks without more than two of us just falling asleep."

"As my kitten commands."

* * *

The first breath of southern France is heaven. Harry owns a cottage not far from a Muggle village called Eze that has a Magical side as well. Sherlock's chatting with the taxi driver. The man's turning an astonishing shade of pink as Sherlock continues on before Harry taps his lover on the shoulder.

"Genius, what are you talking about to our poor taxi driver?"

"He asked me what I do for a living, so I told him." The tone is matter-of-fact and does not even bother Harry.

"... You did leave out the part where you strike freshly-dead corpses with a riding-crop from that whole diatribe, didn't you?" he asks, nonplused as Sherlock blinks.

"Of course. I just told him about all of the chases and the times Moriarty tried to kill me." John's asleep, so they're trying to keep their genius from creeping out the driver too much. Severus laughs at that and shakes his head.

"Not to mention the various kisses he may or may have not stolen from our lips." Harry broke into giggles, which woke John.

"Wha?" the sleepy mutter causes Sherlock to stop speaking for a while.

"Oh, sorry, luv." Harry caresses John's grown-out locks away from his forehead and presses a kiss to the smooth skin.

"John! This place is amazing. We have to find a resturaunt that serves pepper steak and hot-chocolate cake." Sherlock's now squirming in his seat, cobalt eyes alight with restlessness.

"Why precisely those things, Sher?" John hums as he looks around.

"Because... I might have had Mycroft check it out discreetly before we came here?" their resident consulting detective mutters softly, the recklessness dimming a little.

"Of course," Severus replies before speaking rapid French that Harry understood nothing of but it made Sherlock regain the happiness in his eyes. "Pourriez-vous me recommended un bon restaurant? Un gâteau au choclat qui sert à chaud? Mon amant set plutôt friand.*"

The driver grinned and replied, "Oui. C'est ce qu'on appelle Le Pinocchio et la nourriture est très bonne." His husband smiled and the driver finally stopped outside of their cottage. Severus counted off the Euros and told the man softly, "Gardez la monnaie."

"Adieu, mon bon Monsieur!"

The rest of the day is spent unpacking and keeping Sherlock from raiding the fridge because he likes Brie cheese. Harry isn't allowed to cook for today, so they drive down to the restaurant. Sherlock has been catolguing the other patrons, his mind forced to work as he has to decipher the French and then make his deductions; Severus was more than amused as John spoon-fed him the (very delicious) hot chocolate cake.

"This place really is amazing. We have to explore it during the daytime too." They chatted about the things that looked interesting in the shadows. It was comfortable in a way that they had never experienced in England. John's eyes had lost the tired look and he was brighter than he had been in months.

* * *

The Magical half of Eze was a welcome surprise as no one accosted them or asked awkward questions. Harry perused through the vegetables and fruits, dragging Sherlock along as his translator. John was examining the herbs frowning occasionally as Severus translated the price of some of the more common cooking ones. He tugged Sherlock along, ignoring the gasps and whispers in French as he used his experience as a guide for the fresh materials.

"Sherlock?" Their genius had not responded to his tug causing to turn back around. "Hello?"

"They're talking about us."

"Umm, duh. We're English Wizards in a French town on vacation. I expected as much." he responded as he tugged again.

"No, not about that. They're wondering why you'd be interested in me and vice versa." Harry laughed at Sherlock's puzzled tone.

"Well, they'll have to keep wondering then. Potter-Snapes go to the grave with our secrets." He kissed Sherlock, smiling into the kiss as his lover lifted him off the ground gently. "Still mindful of the cubs, hmm?"

"Cubs?"

"Yeah. 'Cause Teddy's supposed to be their godfather and he's half-werewolf." Sapphire eyes roll in an amused manner as they meet up with the other half of their tetrad, having gathered what they needed for dinner.

"The rumors are getting quite amusing." Severus chuckled as they walked through the archway that separated the Magical from the Muggle Eze. "Next time we visit we could be royalty."

"What'd they say this time?" Harry was curious.

"That two English Lords brought their French lovers with them." John and Harry looked at each other before cracking up, peals of laughter echoing off of the walls in the alley.

That night, Harry was in his element, the smells coming from the kitchen made even Sherlock's stomach growl. He danced around on the tiles to Je Vuex, making both his husband and his lover to smile as he sang along. After Sherlock translated it roughly John said, "A little bit like you, I think."

"Nah. Dinner's ready!" They simply basked in each other's presence as they hadn't for a long while. "I'm working on a new Healing spell."

"I've been Healing the injured cats. They've got so much to tell people and I've even gotten Familiars."

"Familiars? That isn't right." Severus sat up from his relaxed pose, obsidian eyes flashing with anger for a brief moment.

"No, they're fine. They just want to chat with a Talent that isn't their Master or Mistress." John's quick to reassure Severus.

"Sherlock?"

"I have solved exactly twenty cold cases and am currently trying to solve my twenty-first. There are details that do not match up..."

"Why don't they?" Harry asked, peering over the table at the half-open manila folder.

"There is-Ah. That's it! There are no commonalities amongst the clues themselves. Wonderful." He leans across the table to give Harry a searing kiss before he does the same to John and Severus. "Thank you."

"Mycroft sent you cold cases?" Severus chuckled as he set about cleaning up.

"They're harder to solve because I cannot see what path the criminal would have taken and why they would have murdered a fellow compatriot. These come from various eras and are not as clear as the ones from the latter half of the twentieth century."

"I have a new nausea Potion in the works. I need a test subject though, my Seeker." He wrinkled his nose and sniffed the liquid, surprised to find it smelled like strawberries. "I even took into account your sensitive taste buds. Hermione suggested Muggle flavoring after the Potion cooled." Harry took another cautious sniff before sipping it. His stomach, which had been in slight rebellion for most of the day, settled instantly. "I take it you approve?"

"Approve? Sev, you're a bloody miracle worker!" he enthused, jumping his husband so that they landed on the massive (extremely comfortable) couch in the formal living room. Harry rained kisses down beloved and memorized features with care, lingering on Severus's hot-spots. "You'll make a fortune with this."

"I already have everything I need right here in this house."

* * *

It is with great reluctance that they pack their bags for England. The much needed time has restored them as nothing else would have. Mycroft, Kingsley, Lestrade and Molly would be greeting them in the Magical portion of the terminal. Harry stepped off first, getting engulfed in a hug from his (for all intents and purposes) Mum as he breathes in the tainted air of London. It smells of _home_ and that's all that matters.

"How was France, Harry?"

"Wonderful. We'll have to go back." he responds absently as he sees someone he thought he'd never see again. "No."

"No what, dear?"

"That... woman should not be here." he snarls, his grip tightening on his suitcase's handle. Of course, there are worse words he'd love to use but his surrogate Mother is right there.

"She looks a bit like Sherlock." Molly's curious tone makes him hiss out the truth.

"She disowned him and Mycroft for having magic." he barely contains it this time, the disgust in every word as he glares at Lady Holmes.

"She did _what_?" Oh, she's very, very angry if he can hear the enraged roar of a lioness beneath the quiet veneer. Almost as angry as she was during the Final Battle in Hogwarts, facing Bellatrix LeStrange down with a snarl of pure _**hate**_. "Let's meet Mrs. Holmes." Severus spots the woman the same instant both of the Holmes brothers do. Sherlock and Mycroft lock up, matching cobalt eyes pure ice as they face the woman who gave birth to them.

"Hello my boys." her tone is sickenly sweet, the smile too tight at the corners of her mouth. "Have a lovely trip, Sherlock?"

"..." Their genius merely stares in answer, as if he can't believe she's there to ruin his homecoming.

"Come now, sweetheart, answer Mummy properly." John's gaze is promising murder when Molly steps forward to put a hand on Sherlock.

"Sherlock, they're worried. Mycroft, dear, I think Kingsley wore teal." They both break their rigid stances and glide over to their respective significant others. Harry soothes Sherlock as he watches what promises to be a spectacular duel of words unfold.

"Who are you to talk to my boys that way?" Molly sneers at Evelyn, her distaste clearly etched into her face.

"You disowned them, Evelyn. They aren't yours anymore."

"Are they _yours_ then, overgrown harridan?" Evy hisses like an angry cat.

Molly's tight smile thins into a vicious grin. "I supposed they are, aren't they? They have Magic, a gift of Herself and it was denied you. You're a jealous old hag who has pushed her resentments onto her sons. Shame on you."

"Shame on me? Shame on me?! I tried to keep it from them! I knew what was going on in that world of yours! That Voldemort killing people left and right!"

"He's gone." Molly spat back. "Harry's the one who ended his reign of violence."

"And before that? He was everywhere, causing terror and fear. Eileen told me about him."

"Liar. My Mother would never have spilled Wizarding secrets." Severus snarled, his wand snapping around in an arc, forming a containment spell.

"She would if I slipped her some of that truth serum." His husband's obsidian gaze flashed with fire and righteous fury before Molly laughed. "Why are you laughing?"

"Eileen had counter-measures for Veritaserum. Her family was Pureblooded, which meant that various people were always trying to kill them or get them to spill Family secrets. You're just trying to get a rise out of us. Petrificus Totalis." Lady Holmes thumped roughly onto the cement. "We'll hand her over to the Aurors. I'm sure they have a place for her at Mungo's."

* * *

Aside from the increasingly insane ramblings of the former Lady Holmes, their return was seamless. Ron gave him an odd look when he dropped by a crime scene and took a look around.

"Harry, what are you doing here?"

"I've been banned from Mungo's for the time being. I need something to do." He muttered as he figured out that the Apprentice had left the cauldron on for too long, thus causing the explosion. "It was the Apprentice."

"All action, huh? Well... You could go the club with me?" Harry frowns at the Auror who sounded like he was right from the Academy.

"Excuse me, did you just do what I thought you did?" he says slowly, his magic crackling even as it vibrated the air around him.

"Ask a hottie on a date, then yeah. You in?"

Harry grit his teeth and snarled his answer, "Hell no." Ron coughed and tugged the other Aurors away from the scene discreetly. "I am happily _**married**_."

"So?" Harry stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to make up his mind. "I'll take your silence as a-Gurk!" He casually picked at his nails, leaning his full weight on the younger male's throat as he texted Sherlock a quick reply to a loving message.

_Rwyf wrth fy mods i chi hefyd. Yes, I'll pick up the groceries... and some retard keeps reading our plans, shall I take them out?_

He doesn't even have to wait before he gets a reply, Sherlock types so fast.

_**Target is in sight. Permission granted.**_

This causes a grin to appear on his face as he lifts the idiot up and drop-kicks him into a dumpster. "Sherlock!"

"Kitten, who was that?"

Ron answered for him a smile tugging at his lips, "A newbie on the force. He, uh, propositioned Harry."

"I see. Excellent work." He purred into the shell of Harry's ear.

"He suggested we go clubbing together." Harry tells Sherlock, grimacing as the younger male attempts to get out of the dumpster. "So not my type."

"And we are?"

"Most definitely."

**Ending A/N:** Okay, so I lied. This was mostly written to Sleepwalker (still Adam), One Step at A Time (Jordin Sparks) and Scream (Usher). But... I think it's passable. Not good, not great, passable. Hope the confrontation was the way you wanted it, Azteka. (Yes, I pay attention to my anons.) This one was fighting me every step of the way... Literally. Some of the events in here actually happened to me in real life, like the part about France. (I sadly do not have a Sherlock or a Severus that speaks fluent French, but it really was an amazing place.) Also, thank Bleeding Jazz Gums for making me turn to Scienceboyfriends. That is part of the reason I couldn't concentrate on this. As always, folks, _**review**_! They inspire me to write new chapters. :) Song suggestions are still being taken!~ Wow, this is a pretty long Ending A/N… *Sheepish grin*

* **Latin: **Clean wound. Repair muscle. Heal skin.

* **Welsh:** I love you.

* I love you too. That feels good.

* **French: **Could you recommend a decent restaurant? One that serves hot chocolate cake? My lover is rather fond of it.

Yes. It's called Le Pinocchio and the food is quite good.

Keep the change.

Thank you, kind sir.


	9. Centerfold

**A/N:** Fangirls mistake the tetrad for cosplayers and hilarity ensues. No, seriously. I figured I could have fun with that after realizing how many conventions London holds every year. This one was inspired by Pink's Centerfold. The lyrics are so Sherlock I cracked up laughing as I listened. Okay, I'm a _huge_ fan now that I've actually seen some of the episodes and everything either relates to the Avengers or Sherlock lately. Not to mention my increasingly annoying Sesshomaru Muse that keeps dragging my other Muses into the mud; damn daiyōkai. Dedicated to Reader-anonymous-writer for supporting this for as long as I have had it going. Thank you and I'm wrestling my Muses into submission for our project! *smiles* Question, does anyone actually read the crap I write up here before the story? Words with one of these (*) at the end will be explained after the Ending A/N.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it. Heavy making out in front of fangirls. Mwahahaha!

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Centerfold DMMWw Centerfold DMMWw**

Sherlock tapped away on John's laptop keyboard, updating his website while his tea was getting cold.

"Sherlock, drink your tea or I will." John laughs as he encircles his tea with one arm as he continued to type. "At least let me put a lid on it so it stays warm, genius."

"Fine." he muttered, absently seeking out Severus's hand as he typed one-handed. Slender fingers laced with his as he finished with his site. He closed the laptop and pushed it over to Harry laughing when Severus pressed butterfly kisses to his neck. "Sev!" His lover chuckled as he leaned back, obsidian eyes falling back to the page of the thick Potions tome.

"What can I say? You were distracted."

"Oh, wow! Did you curl your hair?" Sherlock nearly jumped at the high-pitched squeal sent his direction. "That is such a good Sherlock cosplay..."

"A what? John, make them go away." Sherlock murmured, sending a panicked look his wolf's way.

"Oh my God. They totally planned this out. Seriously, what's your name?" Harry was busy typing in something into John's laptop so Sherlock hid behind his smart-phone and texted his brother.

_Mycroft, what is cosplay? -SH_

He hit the send button and got an instant reply from the woman calling herself Anathea (for now). She irritated him to no end due to her association with Mycroft.

_**Short for 'costume play' it is a type of performance art in which participants don costumes and accessories to represent a specific character or idea.**_

He sighed, his typing speed becoming faster. "Oh, wow, he even has the same smart-phone!" Sherlock resisted the urge to snap at them that of course it was his phone.

_A group of girls complimented me on my Sherlock cosplay. I am merely wearing my usual jacket and scarf. -SH_

Harry turned the laptop around and Sherlock read the page through once before choking on his mouthful of tea. Apparently, someone had made a TV show about his and John's adventures. He texted Mycroft again, this time understandably shocked.

_Why is there a television show about John and I? -SH_

The reply was from Mycroft this time; he could feel the snark through the text.

_**It wasn't like I could say no, Sherlock. There is only one copy-right on Sherlock Holmes and that one belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The others have permission to use your name.**_

He frowned at his smart-phone before grinning at John in a manner that meant he was up to no good.

"Sherlock?" his wolf's tone was wary but still curious.

"Nothing, John." Severus had read the Wikipedia page and was now silently laughing, the broad shoulders shaking with held-in mirth.

"Bloody priceless." Severus managed after a few moments of composing himself.

"Nice Harry Potter cosplay!" This time it was a group of boys wearing what looked to be Hogwarts uniforms. Sherlock laughed at Severus and Harry's shocked looks before typing in his lover's name. What popped up was far too close to the truth.

"Perhaps we should go along with the whole charade?" he asked quietly, sipping his cold tea with a grimace. "That is _disgusting_ when it's cold."

"Told you should drink it faster." came John's retort, a grin on his beloved's face. "I think we should, just for peace of mind."

"Agreed. What are those girls giggling about?" Severus huffed, burying his nose back into the book with haste.

"They're _**fangirls**_." The absolute horror in Harry's voice is enough to convince Sherlock that they were to be avoided at all costs. "Apparently, in this set of books, you're a right bastard... And you die." Severus scowled at the computer before shutting it down and stowing it away in John's laptop bag.

"Harry, I'm right here." Harry sent Severus a wry smile before a mischievous grin appeared on his face. "What's with that-Mmmr." Both of them ignored the gasping, the fainting and the down-right awkward pictures taken as they kissed.

"Whoot! Some Snarry!" They fought not to laugh at the enthusiasm.

Sherlock snagged John's waist and did the same, his eyes closing as his mind went blank. The cat-calls and wolf-whistles are what pull him out of his moment with John. He flips them off and pulls John closer again, tasting every part of John's mouth with his tongue, purring as John replied in kind.

"John, you're making the fangirls faint." Harry managed through his laughter. His wolf smiled into the kiss, pulling back to nuzzle Sherlock's neck and nip with his teeth.

"I could bloody care less." came the smug answer, tawny-laced hazel locking with his own cobalt. John caressed his cheek with his fingertips.

"Yeah, you guys go all the way! Johnlock for the win!" They looked at each other before cracking up laughing. "What's so funny?" That just set them off for another round of laughter.

* * *

Sherlock went out by himself to get groceries for the flat and deliberately skirted around the teens (adults were there as well) wearing various costumes. Thankfully the groups from before had clearly moved on. He bought the milk, tea and various necessities. About a third of the way home he noticed a presence that was distinctly odd and out of place. Lengthening his stride, he took a sudden right since his mental map of London was better than any GPS. The presence that had been following hesitated before continuing cursing quite colorfully in American English. He whirled suddenly, activating his Talent, the concrete rising up on his command and gently pushing the minds of others to not pay attention to the wall.

"Why are you following me?" he questioned calmly, texting Severus as if he had nothing better to do.

_I might be late. Someone followed me into my trap. -SH_

"What?" Sherlock sighed, tucking his phone away. "How the hell did you make that wall?"

"Don't play stupid with me. You've been following me for exactly eight point seven blocks since I walked out of the market." he countered, "You're out of breath because you cursed when I took a short-cut only a third of the way. You're American because you haven't used typical British swears nor any in another language. How long have you been watching me?" he let his sarcasm show through as he deduced the idiot.

"How the hell did you know I was following you?"

"Simple; your footsteps are heavy due to the boots you wear and they started as soon as I left with my groceries. You were not subtle in the least nor did you make any attempt to blend in with the crowds. Really, who wears a black leather jacket and heavy combat boots to go through London? A pair of walking shoes is more logical as well as practical. Your cologne is not a common British one nor is it a popular brand. Is it your attempt at solo work or are you working for Moriarty?"

"You know about Moriarty? How much do you know?"

"He is my arch-nemesis. Surely your informant gave you that much." he snarked, pulling down the concrete with a subtle wave of his hand.

"You're a strange one. The American government has taken an interest in you because Moriarty has never shown this level of attention to anyone before."

"He wants my attention, idiot, and he has it. It's not every day a highly-functioning sociopath locks his attention on an original villain. Even you fell for the cliché of an American agent visiting England. I suggest you ditch the jacket, the boots and the camouflage pants. Dress like an obnoxious tourist and they won't notice a thing." He advised as he turned on his heel and continued walking as though the less than ten minute conversation hadn't even happened. "Oh and don't bother applying for the Secret Service; you won't make it. They'll find that tid-bit about you killing your neighbor in self-defense when we both know it was because he made advances at you."

"How-"

"You still limp from the injury he gave you before he died. A knife wound along the inner thigh, about thirty-five centimeters long. Thick scarring thus the change in gait because the tissue didn't heal right."

"You got the attacker wrong. It was a woman."

"Ah, always something." He muttered, his mind turning over the new evidence.

* * *

Severus opened the door to the flat and Sherlock explained what had kept him so long. They scowled at the mention of Moriarty but knew that this particular 'game' was between him and his enemy.

"Any information on your side of the house, kitten?" he asked as he absently deleted old texts from Lestrade and Mycroft from his smart-phone.

"Nothing. Hermione's trying to tap the Muggle underground, but it's slow."

"Slowly is perfectly fine. I know he's deliberately hiding in plain sight." Sherlock grumbled as he slipped off his jacket and scarf.

"Do you know his-Oh my Merlin. I'm such an idiot. Point-Me Moriarty." He watched as the Elder Wand spun in a tight circle before pointing precisely in the direction of New Scotland Yard.

"Is that the direction he's in?" John asked, his voice laced with incredulity.

"If Moriarty is part of his truly given name, then that is definitely a yes." Severus replied with a bit of chagrin in his own voice.

"This seems like cheating." Sherlock admitted frowning at the innocent looking wand balanced in Harry's hand.

"I could ask Death... Which really would be cheating." Harry remarked casually, studying his nails as both Sherlock and John gave matching looks of confusion.

"I could have sworn I heard you say Death, kitten. Mind explaining?" John's the first to recover, his eyes full of curiosity.

"Ah... I forgot that part, didn't I? I'm the Master of Death." Sherlock snapped out of his funk as he heard the title. He made a triumphant noise in the back of his throat, dashing upstairs to John's old room, digging for a specific tome that had been in the Holmes library for centuries. He gleefully took the stairs two at a time, landing in a crouch before he unwrapped the thin volume with a bright light in his eyes.

"You mean Beedle the Bard? That Master of Death?" Severus gasped and his eyes landed on the very old book Sherlock held.

"The original Olde English version was lost in 1878. How do you have it?"

"It was a gift to my namesake that year from Lord Riordan Potter for solving a case." he murmured quietly, gazing at the book fondly. "Father read these to Mycroft and I before bed each night. He found it in the library one evening and thought they'd make good tales to lull us to sleep. It turns out that Father was from a long line of Squibs and the magic manifested in what it saw as the last generation of the Holmes line. Mycroft showed me that woman's search for a Muggle."

"Well, I don't have to explain it then." Sherlock scooped John up and turned to The Tale of the Three Brothers, his finger absently tracing the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

"There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight..." he began, unknowingly imitating his Father right down to the tone of voice.

The knowledge that Moriarty was part of New Scotland Yard was a little tid-bit that Sherlock couldn't shake. He knew it wasn't the field representatives as they all either openly despised him or ignored him. It had to be someone who worked on the inside but have enough knowledge gleaned from the regular team to 'admire' him. This was his toughest case yet and he wasn't even interested in another. Which of course the universe interpreted as boredom and Lestrade had another one when he dropped by.

"I really should start demanding pay for this." he muttered as they drove to the scene.

"No need; that scary brother of yours dropped by and mentioned it to my boss's boss." Lestrade laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

"Nonsense, Mycroft is perfectly harmless most days." Sherlock snorted, sneering at Anderson as a matter of habit.

"To you maybe, Freak, but he's creepy as fuck to the rest of us." He merely stared Donovan down and casually brushed the spot on his neck where she still had the scar from the broadsword. She unconsciously mimicked him, stiffening as she felt the scar tissue. Sherlock grinned savagely as his mind began deducing the crime scene. The team backed off as he stepped over the tape and took in the surrounding area.

"Hmm. Broken hand and arm indicate defensive wounds. Bruising suggests that some sort of pipe was used deliberately. Was the victim associated with the Mafia, Triad, Freemasons, Illuminati in any way?" he asked Lestrade, something at the corner of his eye catching his attention. "He was assassinated by the Ozunu Clan.* They use black sand as a delivery message. Check the current rate for a hundred pounds of gold and see if a friend of his has lost approximately the same amount. You won't catch the one who actually did it," he concluded, "But you can catch his friend who started all of this."

* * *

Harry's check-up for the fifth months was rather eventful. The Mage triplet obviously didn't like Abbot, just like their wolf. Like father, like child; the Witch had the gall to look offended. Sherlock took her by the elbow with a smile that could have killed from how sickeningly sweet it was. They went out into the Warded hallway, Sherlock's smile falling away like water flows.

"Healer... Abbot, was it? Can I call you Hannah?"

"Yes." she looked down like she was a blushing maiden from his namesake's time. Sherlock mentally snorted at the display, willing her to look at him.

"Hannah, you will never again compare yourself to my lover. If you manage to get past my Talent all you will be able to say is things that compliment him. He is carrying my _child_ and he is the most precious thing to me along with the remainder of my tetrad, woman. Do _**not **_test me." he hissed, eyes flashing a burning sapphire. They came back into the room no differently than when they had left it, save that Abbot was firmly reminded that she belonged to neither of them. Healer Nott replaced her for the exam and smiled at the bright results.

"Two girls and a boy. Congratulations. The Mage child is very responsive to the environment outside. I suggest you be careful what you say from now on in terms of curse words and such. That may be the first word they speak. These children are going to be so very gifted."

"Thanks Theo." Harry laughed as he was lifted and gently twirled by John and Severus. Sherlock knelt and stroked softly over the stretched skin, something akin to awe flooding him as he felt a thump against his hand.

"Oh my Merlin... They've started moving." Harry whispered, petting a soothing hand along his abdomen.

"So they have, kitten."

"Teddy's going to have his hands full when we ask him to babysit..." Severus chuckled as they held hands with Harry to support their beloved.

"Of course, it'll be all Sherlock's fault."

"What? Me? Why am I the bad influence?" he protested, much to the amusement of his lovers.

**Ending A/N:** Yay! My Muse for this beat the other Muses down so that this could be written. I should probably sleep after I post this. Blegh, so tired but I can't sleep until I shake the Muses. Evil things they are when you want to sleep like a log... As always, folks, review! It's that box at the end of the chapter? Write me something! I still take song suggestions!

*This clan is from a movie made in 2009. Whoever guesses it gets acknowledgement in the next installment and a cyber-brownie!


	10. Everyday Superhero

**A/N:** Acknowledgements go to CaughtinalandSlide, Azteka and xXImperfectionXx7. The movie was Ninja Assassin. By the way, guys (and girls), two words does not make a review and I would appreciate it if you wrote something a little more substantial next time. As always, dedicated to Reader-anonymous-writer for the support since chapter one! You saved this from the terrible black-hole in my stories known as The Plunny Zone. You don't want a story to go there. It never comes back out again. *rubs back of neck* You know what sucks? Walking a mile and having blisters right on the ball and the heel of one foot and a busted one on the other. I hate my Converse knock-offs right now. To do a Meekakitty; tink, tunk_**, FLIP TABLE**_. Words with one of these (*) at the end are explained in the Ending A/N.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it. Emotional catharsis via art.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Everyday Superhero DMMWw Everyday Superhero DMMWw**

Severus didn't consider himself a hero. He knows his reputation is not exactly clean and this does not bother him in the least; except when people approach him about the 'terrible' things he did in the two wars. Those people... Well, Severus did the sensible Slytherin thing.

"How could you do that to-"

He cast a nonverbal Silencio as he talked down to them as though speaking to a five-year-old. "That happened nearly two decades ago, you misbegotten fool. I am happily married with a child on the way with my husband whom I love very much. What I did and why I did it is none of your bloody business and I'll thank you to keep your nose out of mine." He released the spell before opening his Apothecary with a complicated mental chant complete with a Blood Ward Key. Yes, it was paranoia of the highest level, but was it really paranoia when they were still after his blood nearly twenty years later? No it most certainly was not.

* * *

Theodore was late and panting for breath as Severus closed up for lunch.

"What is your excuse this time, Healer Nott?"

"Huge backlash in the Magical Maladies room. The Longbottoms... They're speaking... a hell of a lot and demanding... their little boy Neville. It's all a bit crazy right now. You need to see them."

"Looking like this?" He had on Muggle clothing, his hair tied back haphazardly with a green ribbon and his wand holster under a thin long-sleeved shirt. The Metallica t-shirt over it had been a gag gift from Teddy; Severus liked the band, so the joke was on his godson. "The last time they saw me was nearly two decades ago and much younger. I was the spy to them and they were never truly comfortable with me." he answered, his boot tapping out an impatient rhythm as he listened. "Look, I have lunch planned with Harry. I can take a few moments but not a lot of time, do you hear?"

He straightened his holster and decided nothing could be done about his hair in its current state. Theodore motioned him in, a curious look on his face as Alice and Frank Longbottom took in his appearance. The bright room in St. Mungo's had sunlight streaming in through the window.

"Snape? Where's Dumbledore and the Order?"

"Dumbledore's dead. Most of the original Order is dead. For Merlin's sake, you've been out of it for the past two decades. Nothing is the same as it was." he said bluntly, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

"Bellatrix?" Frank asked softly, the rasp proof of the long time spent locked down in the Maladies Ward.

"Molly finished her when she went after Molly's daughter."

"Where is our son?" Alice's voice took on a nearly desperate tone.

"I doubt he has been notified of your sudden awakening. He teaches Herbology at Hogwarts. Theodore had to run to my Apothecary to even catch me. I was about to have lunch with my husband." he replied calmly.

"... The Healer wasn't lying then." came Frank's grim assessment. "Voldemort's really gone?" Severus smirked as he rolled up his left sleeve to show them the grey, dead Mordesmorde. "It didn't... He is gone. They're saying James and Lily's boy did it."

"Harry did defeat that snake bastard a decade ago. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a husband to get back to. Theodore, compile back copies of the main events and fill them in with as much as you know. Contact Molly, she'll explain the rest."

* * *

He spotted his husband in the cafe, teaching a child how to fold a paper crane with an easy smile on his face. The mother of the child looked exhausted; trust his husband's 'saving-people thing' to kick in at the most inopportune moments...

"Luv, what are you doing?" he asked as he settled a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Hiya, Sev. Sorry?"

"Do not apologize. Shall I go and get us lunch?" he chuckled, sliding his hand through Harry's mop before pulling away.

"Would you?" He laughed as two pairs of puppy eyes looked up at him.

"Is that your husband?"

"Yes." Severus feels a gentle smile tug at his lips and he orders in a good mood. He winds his way back to their table with the grace of a feline, balancing the tremozzini* and their coffee. Using one of his feet he pulls out another wicker chair to sit next to Harry, pressing a kiss to his husband's forehead. "How was your day?" Harry waits for the woman to leave with her child before asking Severus his question.

"It went well, as far as most days go. Apparently the Longbottoms have awoken."

"... Neville has no idea, does he? Have they even bothered to contact him?" Harry scowled at the thought of the Healers at St. Mungo's.

"No and no. Theo's a bit busy doing damage control and getting them caught up on major events. Do you want to do it?"

"I can't Apparate."

"Levitating and Disillusionment Charms, my Seeker." Harry gave him a mischievous smile.

"I remember the last time we tried that..."

"No shenanigans. I swore to myself to never drop you again."

"It was a bit like a Wronski Feint." Harry hummed, stirring his coffee before taking a bite of egg and white asparagus tremozzini.

"Only you would compare it to a Quidditch move." he laughed as they finished their lunch in relative peace.

They used an alley as cover before he engaged his Talent, easily floating up above the smog of London Proper before steering a course towards Scotland. His husband smiled as the wind ruffled through his already messy hair.

"Can you do a loop?" Harry asked, spreading his arms as they increased speed.

"Why-You want me to do stunts, is that it?" he sighed as he tightened his hold on Harry.

"They like the air as much as I do, Sev." As if proving his point, Severus felt the babies squirming around excitedly as he did a loop-de-loop. "See?" Harry laughed as he did a free-fall pulling up a good ten meters from the ground. "You said you didn't like brooms or stunts."

"You are a little dare-devil who pulls stunts like you breathe air, my Seeker. Of course I worry for you. I vividly recall your very first Quidditch game and do not wish for a second heart attack in that form. The dragon was bad enough."

Harry looked up and replied cheekily, "Well, when you put it like _that_, husband mine, it sounds terrible. Besides I led it on a merry chase around the castle so that it was super tired by the time I retrieved the egg. The handlers had an easier time with her than with the others. I asked Charlie afterwards and he said the Horntail just puffed smoke at them when they moved her back into her enclosure."

"Only you could see the brighter side of destroying most of our home." he stopped suddenly as he realized what he'd revealed.

"Yeah, Hogwarts is home in a way no other place can be, Sev. I feel that way too and it's weird to explain it to someone that's never felt the feeling of her welcoming you after another rotten summer. Sometimes I wonder if all Tom Riddle needed was a home and a family to care for him." Harry's verdant eyes are distant, deep in thought as they continue for a few more meters before touching down at the end of the Express terminal.

"Halt! Who wishes to access the castle?" The enchanted knights had been Minerva's idea after the wars that had ravaged the Wizarding World. She'd taken inspiration from her chess game in Harry's first year and had constructed knights to guard the entrance to Hogwarts. She did not know about the secret passageways still; Severus wasn't about to correct her either. The knights were intimidating for those who did not know of them.

"Severus Snape and Harry Potter-Snape." he stated clearly, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist as his husband yawned.

"Wands, please." the knight answered. He handed over their wands without protest and allowed Harry to rest his weight on him. "Proceed forward. You will be met by the Headmistress." Harry yawned again before shaking his head, taking the lead up to the castle that had been hole for them both.

* * *

Minerva met them at the top step, smiling as she saw Harry.

"Harry, Severus, what a pleasant surprise. Did you come to visit or is this business?" she asked, the streaks of white even more prominent than before.

"Business, actually, Professor. Could you tell us where Neville is?"

"Drop the Professor, dear. It's been years since I've been your teacher. Neville is out in Greenhouse 6. I trust you know the way?" she chuckled as Harry blinked.

"Of course Minerva. By the way, did you ever figure out who did that mural?" He asked, wondering what had happened to it.

"Hogwarts has made sure the mural is in good shape. The answer to your question is no, Severus, though I did find a similar mural on the seventh floor." Oh, that one was full of memories he'd rather not talk about and not all of them good. "It was... vicious in a way Harry's is not. I have yet to see if this artist has left any more of these strange murals."

"Oh. Perhaps we shall see it after we deliver our news to Mr. Longbottom." She shivered at the mention and waved them on, flashing Harry a brilliant smile as they turned towards the greenhouses of Hogwarts.

"What mural, Sev?"

"My self-portrait. I was... in a dark place when I did that piece. Your Father had been particularly vicious that day; even your dogfather refused to join in. Lucius Malfoy had begun taking me to Death Eater meetings to test my courage and I met the Dark Lord that day. I cannot remember what triggered the piece but I did not dare go to the seventh floor after I had finished it. I refused to look at it. This will be cathartic in more than one way." he answered, lacing his fingers with Harry's as they stopped in front of Greenhouse 6.

"Expecto Patronum." Harry said evenly, the bright stag erupting from the tip of the holly wand with a quickness that shocked him a little. "Nev, I think you should come outside. We've got some startling news." The stag cantered into the greenhouse and they sat on the bench across from it, waiting for Longbottom to emerge.

The boy he remembered had become a mixture of Alice and Frank, the gentle brown eyes having a steely edge to them inherited from the war.

"What is it?"

"Nev, did no one send you an owl? Your parents are up." Harry went at it head-on, which was better than him saying it.

"Wait, did you say my parents? As in... They're awake?" the shaky tone was forced out as Neville sat on the bench next to Harry.

"I was convinced to stop by courtesy of Healer Nott and yes, they are aware and awake. They've been asking the staff for you. I might have been a bit blunter than necessary." he admitted, smiling at Harry as he was elbowed by his husband.

"No, I'm sure they're used to you more than anyone else... Oh. You're the only one from the Order aside from the Weasleys and Mrs. Tonks, aren't you?"

"There are a few others. I was simply the closest at the moment." he huffed, frowning at his ribbon as it tangled.

"Sev turn around." Harry laughed, holding out his wand. "I'll fix it for you."

"Oh, thank Merlin. I cannot reach it and it is bothering me to no end." He relaxed as he breathed in the late Spring air, a small smile on his face as he closed his eyes under Harry's loving ministrations.

"What do you remember of my parents, Professor?"

"That is disturbing. No wonder Minerva insisted I call her by her first name all those years ago... Please, call me Severus. Alice was gentle, much like you, and had-" He stopped mid-sentence and changed his tense. "She has an affinity with plants and dislikes your grandmother. I never did get the full story as to why. You'll have to ask her. Frank is an Auror and a damn good one at that. I'm thankful we were allies for as long as we were; he's also an excellent duelist and I barely beat him during the second round of England's Finest Duelists. That is all I know." he answered, opening his eyes when Harry had finished sorting his hair out. "Thank you, my Seeker. The Potion I was working with did not seem to like anything near it."

"Umm, I have to ask; when did the two of you act more like a married couple?"

"You mean after that kiss in the Great Hall? We got married as soon as they passed the law in Muggle London. We did have a Wizarding ceremony but it was very small. Sorry?"

"Seeing as Luna forgot to invite you for ours, I think we're even Harry. I'm going to go see my parents."

"Part of a triad?"

"Only recently and it's... new. Rolf was the one to invite me in."

"Didn't you and Luna have a summer fling?" Harry asked as Neville started to get up.

"Yeah. She said it wasn't quite time yet. Now I know what she meant."

"Go on, Nev. I'm here with Severus."

"Thanks, mate."

"You're welcome."

* * *

He led the way, his stride hesitant as they reached the corridor where the mural was on the wall. He hadn't even looked at it after he'd finished, like most of his work... But then again, he'd been swiping at the tears welling up from all of his emotions finally showing here in this tiny corridor. He took a deep breath and strode forward with confidence. Harry's presence relaxed him in a manner he'd never realized before.

They stopped before the mural, taking in the stark words in white along the black and red self-portrait. They were words that had not faded for the years of sunlight it had stood in, as clear as the day they had been written in absolute agony. He knew he'd been followed that day and he was sure it had been one of the Marauders; they'd suddenly turned their formidable attention onto the other Houses until graduation. All four of them had disappeared after the ceremony and had come down from the top staircase with somber expressions.

"... Did you really think that of yourself, Sev?" Harry's voice was understanding, soft but raw in ways that seeing this particular mural was not as bad as it could have been. Harry mouthed the words (afraid, worthless, alone, no friends and it continued on in much of the same vein) his eyes showing deep sorrow.

"Yes. As I said, it was a dark place and I ran headlong into the Death Eaters to escape the derision which only got worse. I was balancing between true Dark and Light. That Prophecy brought the Dark crashing down around me in ruins and I knew what I had to do to preserve my Light." he admitted hoarsely, surprised to see tears spatter against the ground.

"Severus..." Harry turned him around, facing away from the violent, self-erasing mural to see a blank wall. His beloved conjured up chalk and handed them to him, motioning to the huge wall space. "Show me how you feel now. Show me our love, everything that you know to be true in your heart. I'm Warding this corridor. After you're finished I want you to look at it, see what you have to live for. Then turn around and leave all of your past where it belongs; in the bloody past. Okay? Can you do that for us?" Severus looked down at the chalk, before looking at his husband.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet, husband."

The colors blended as he thought about his life now, brilliant cobalt underneath shining raven, tawny flecked hazel surrounded by dirty blond, glowing emerald enhanced by ebony immortalized on the quartz of the wall. London bloomed in the background, melting into Diagon Alley, seamlessly sliding into their flat which flowed to Hogwarts with the sense of time. He allowed for it all to spring from a single dark space with a single word; survivor.

He allowed the staff of Hogwarts into it, their words coming slower but still as sincere. All around them come the words he associated with his husband and his lovers, written in loving Copperplate like Harry's mural in the Entrance Hall. He shaded in every detail by hand, smudging where necessary and using every bit of talent he possessed. Taking a deep breath, he put the last touch in place and stepped back as Harry had instructed him to; he smiled as he saw what his mind had come up with. Harry took down the Ward. Severus blushed as the staff took in his chalk-smudged hands, arms and even a bit on his cheek.

"Harry..."

"Turn around." He turned on his heel and flinched at the harsh words of his very first mural. "That isn't you anymore." And Harry was right; no part of that anguish had followed him into his future except for small parts in the second war when he was forced to re-take his role as spy.

"Severus, these are yours?" Minerva's fingers hovered over the darkest part of the first mural, her eyes flicking immediately to his newly finished masterpiece.

"My handwriting surely has not changed that much, Minerva." he managed as he made to Banish the chalk.

"No. We're keeping those as a reminder." Harry took them and sealed them in a plastic baggie.

"If you insist, my Seeker." he sighed, his mind pleasantly numb from the catharsis of putting how he felt into his craft.

**Ending A/N:** I... honestly don't know what I was thinking for this chapter. It was written to the title song, Hymn For The Missing by RED, Survivor by Destiny's Child and more of the title song. Yeah, mish-mash of songs but this one is one of those musically influenced but not strictly written to music chapters of mine. As always, folks, please REVIEW! They make me happy and type faster.

* Tremozzini - traditional Italian rolled sandwiches that use white bread (sans crust) and a variety of toppings; my favorite is egg and white asparagus so that's why they're eating them

Remember: REVIEWS = LOVE


	11. Titanium

**A/N:** Inspired by song of the same name. It's got a catchy beat and good lyrics. What can I say? *hums along like a derp* This song suits John so well. Okay, serious question. Should I finish this in the next four chapters or would all of you read the sequel if I scrounge up the motivation? As always, dedicated to Reader-writer-anonymous! The first review for the last chapter and it made me smile. If I make your day, it makes mine. Selfish? Yeah, but it makes me happy. To my anon guest, good question and I'm surprised that more people didn't ask about it. It'll be explained in this chapter. Shout out to my mate in Australia, you know who you are! Words with one of these (*) at the end will be explained after the Ending A/N.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it. _**BIRTH OF THE TRIPLETS.**_

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Titanium DMMWw Titanium DMMWw**

John's always been a bit optimistic. He'll freely admit this fact most of the time. Ask him what he thinks of a pissed, in-labor Magus? He'll point you in the direction of the door and give you a boot for good measure. He's already worried and pacing in the waiting room. The Healers forced him out after he attempted to take some of the pain away from his lover. Sherlock is leaning against the wall; his long fingers clenched into tight fists that make his knuckles turn white from the force. Severus is in with Harry most likely getting his hand broken judging from the volume of the curses coming from Harry.

"Sir, he's demanding you both." John swept past the frazzled Healer and instantly starts barking orders he knows they'll obey.

"Hello, kitten. I know you're in a lot of pain but how far apart are the contractions?" Harry lays back, sweat making his unruly hair curly and plastering it to his forehead.

"About... About sixty seconds." Harry panted, his eyes dilated from the pain.

"You're in the active phase then. It's about to get really painful. Sherlock, check for the head. I'm going to take what pain I can from you, okay? I need you to concentrate and push." He says calmly, concentrating to take in the pain. The second he touches Harry, his nerves are on fire. John grits his teeth and allows the pain to ratchet up.

* * *

It takes an agonizing twenty hours for the triplets to be born. John's exhausted as he holds his child, the Mage yawning & opening his eyes. They are exactly the same shade as Harry's and just as beautiful.

"Kitten, he's got your eyes." he whispers hoarsely, cradling him close and leaning to show Harry. Harry smiles wanly and closes his eyes, his breath evening out as he falls into a restful slumber. "Albus Severus Potter-Watson. What a mouthful, huh?"

"Yes. At least he picked something sensible for the girls. Lily Luna Potter-Snape and Eileen Sirius Holmes. I am glad we talked him out of Jamie." Sherlock chuckled, holding Eileen and carefully stroking a finger down her face with an unusual reverence. Albus whined, fussing until John realized he was hungry. Severus smiled knowingly and pulled two bottles from his robe pockets, handing them both to them as Eileen also started fussing. Lily was fast asleep and curled up against Harry, leaving Severus the only one not holding a child. Albus sucked on the bottle and his gaze locked onto Severus. He squirmed in the direction of their beloved Potions Master and grunted.

"You want Sev to hold you?" He shrugged, slowly handing his son off to Severus. Severus looked distinctly nervous as he cradled Albus's head and steadied the bottle. "See? You're an excellent father."

"I have no idea what I'm doing." came the reluctant admittance.

John laughed quietly as he wriggled under Severus's other arm. "None of us do, Sev. That's the point of parenthood. Besides, we have Molly in case something goes wrong. She's raised seven children." he reassured their resident Potions Master.

* * *

**-Two Months Later-**

It's a mad house when they visit the Burrow with their children, Molly and the mothers cooing over the triplets. Albus is pretty mellow, much like himself as a child. Lily and Eileen are already attempting to move more than just onto their stomachs. Teddy is fascinated by Albus and vice versa. The two get along pretty well; Lily's the troublemaker. Eileen tastes anything and everything and her grey eyes are far more intelligent than they should be.

"Hey, John? Is Albus supposed to be floating?" Teddy asks with slight panic in his tone.

"Again? Albus..." He tugs his child back down, chuckling at the nonchalance this action has caused. His son's been doing this since his first month and it seems that he likes it. Fortunately for all of them, he only indulges in this behavior in magical environments and never out in public. "It's fine. Theo said that Mages indulge in behavior usually reserved for Magical Creatures."

"Oh. So, if I accidentally shifted...?"

"He'd attempt to copy you." John confirmed, soothing his boy with soft strokes through fluffy hair. "Albus is not as mischievous as his sisters but he seems to attract trouble like nobody's business. I bet you get it from your Papa." he murmured to his child, smiling when Albus hummed and fell asleep against his chest.

* * *

He dragged himself into work, rubbing at his eyes as he blankly stared at the paper in front of him.

"John?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry." he apologized, looking up to see Sarah giving him a look of concern. "Lily and Albus were up all night. Eileen slept like a bloody rock, thankfully."

"I didn't know you had kids."

"Surrogate." It irked him that he couldn't claim them as Harry's when his lover had done all of the hard work. "She parted amiably with them and even gave us milk for the first two weeks."

"You can claim them on paperwork."

"Which means?" he pressed, his mind short-circuiting a little.

"More money, John. You look exhausted."

"It's not all that different then chasing after Sherlock. We've all got jobs now and we're thinking about a house as opposed to Baker Street."

"Oh." His MagiCell chose to ring at that moment.

"Harry?"

"Oh, thank Merlin. I'm sick of St. Mungo's. Could you pick me up?"

"Now? I'm-" John protested, reaching for his pen as Sarah just stared, filling out paperwork as he continued to chat.

"Quit your job. I'm probably the richest man in England. We'll look for a house." came the chirruped reply from the other end.

"Why are you suddenly asking me to quit my job?" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You know that whole Harry Potter series? Yeah. It's telling my life-story and the woman almost fainted when I showed up on her doorstep."

"... You didn't do what I think you did."

"Yup."

"Harry..." he whined, taking a sip of his lukewarm tea and jotting down the patient's symptoms in short-hand. "I can't quit."

"Why not? I have a lot of money even without the royalty fees. I made them small. It's not like I actually need the money, it's the principle of the thing." John stopped writing as his tired brain processed all of that.

"So, if I quit right now, I can pick you up and take a nap?"

"Yes, I promise. The triplets behave when Papa is awake."

"I'll be there." he hung up and stood suddenly, taking his cup & finishing it in one gulp. John washed it, dried it and then began packing up his box.

"John?"

"I quit. I'd love to stay, really, but I have kids now. Look, you have my number right?" he said as he finalized his box of office things.

"Yes?" she looked like she had seen a ghost.

"You can call me in when it gets to be too much."

* * *

He whistles sharply, waving down a taxi and rattling off the address. While not a genius like Severus and Sherlock, his mind suddenly relaxed, as though the stress of working was now gone. He could spend more time with his children...

"We're here sir. That'll be ten pounds." He fishes out a tenner and smiles at the cabbie as the man pulls away. The entrance to St. Mungo's is quiet and Harry's leaning on the storefront window like he owns the place, hands hidden in the Gryffindor hoodie.

"John! Did you quit?" John chuckles at the enthusiasm his lover displays.

"Yes. Sarah's dismayed."

"They found out what caused the Longbottoms to awaken."

"What was it?" he asked as they slipped into the Magical hospital.

"Albus."

"That magical backsurge was Al?"

"They identified the magical signature as part of mine and an unknown magical sig, so they need to test yours. Oh and if it is you, they're offering a consulting job and a paid-for townhouse." Harry absently explained as they wove their way through flustered interns, exasperated Healers and patients in various states of recovery. He catches an exhausted intern and motions for Harry to wait.

"What's your name?"

"Mine? Marcus Belby, sir." Harry gasped and John looked for an explanation. "I'm the nephew of the man who invented Wolfsbane." Ah, that explained a lot.

"Healer John Watson."

"What's your specialty?"

"Cura Totolariat. I'm Talented." He sent some of his energy down the arm he still held, reviving the man a little. "Try to get a nap, okay?"

"Okay...? I've never met a Talent before."

"You'll get used to it. I mean it, your body needs rest, Mr. Belby." John shrugged off the awed look the man sent in his direction as he followed Harry.

He slumps into the chair they provide, allowing them to do the necessary tests with their wands.

"Mr-"

"Healer, Doctor, whatever title you care to refer to me as please."

"You need more rest, sir, to be frank."

"I'm aware of that thanks. I'll be taking a nap after this is done, yeah? Can't help the fact that the little ones decided to scream all night."

"It's you who provided the backlash; are you sure you aren't a Wizard?"

"Quite sure."

"There is another test, but you need to be healthy and awake for it."

"Hmm, can it wait?"

"... Yessir."

"Oh and an intern... Belby, I think his name was, he needs rest. He was literally falling asleep on his feet." he mentions. The poor guy had been half-asleep when he'd answered John the first time.

"Belby? He's been on shift-Oh. Thank you, Healer Watson. You're done for now." John hits the bed hard as soon as they get back to Baker Street.

* * *

It's a soft whimper that awakens him. He yawns, groans at the headache sleeping half the day usually causes and gets up to find the source. He's tugged back down by Severus, who used a Shield Charm the night before and the second of them to have a full night's sleep.

"You're sure?" he asks, slurring his words.

"Yes. If you're answering me like that then you need more sleep."

The second time he awakens, it's to childish giggling as the babies snuggle closer to him.

"Mmm, wha' time is it?"

"Morning. You slept like a rock and so did the kids." Sherlock answered as he pressed a kiss to John's forehead and scooted Lily from off of his back into Harry's arms.

"Did they? That's good." He cuddles the nearest one, who turns out to be Eileen. Albus whines and John scoops him up as well, absently humming a tune he heard his mother sing to him when he was little.

"Where did you hear that? My Mother had records of that.*"

"My Mum sang me to sleep with it." A knock sounds on the door and Harry makes the bed quickly while Severus answers the door. Albus and Eileen have been handed off to Sherlock.

"I'm looking for Healer Watson?"

"Belby? In the kitchen." he affirmed, heating up the milk to a suitable temperature.

"Oh. Your landlady let me up, sir. The test won't take very long and I'll leave right after the results."

"Mmhmm." John absently replied, taking the milk to Sherlock, Severus and Harry. "Go ahead then."

"Confirmare Magus.*" The spell fizzed bright sparks but didn't do anything else. "Pater Magi.*" That spell shot sparks up in distinct purple and deep blue. "Hmm. That is all, Healer Watson. Have a nice day."

**Ending A/N:** I wrote this to the title song and various 40s songs. Aren't I awesome? Oh! I have a companion/song fic about how Sherlock fell in love with John. Would you guys check it out? I thought it fit them perfectly. It's called Next to You and it's a one-shot! As always, folks, review!

_**Remember, REVIEWS = LOVE**_

*Rum and Coca-Cola- The Andrew Sisters (original singers) 1944

Confirmare Magus- Confirm Mage in Latin

Pater Magi- Father of Mages in Latin


	12. Wide Awake

**A/N:** Okay, sorry for not updating! I just had to get back into the groove of the crossover. My Muses are stuck on an Avengers kick and still won't leave the ThunderHawkFrost plunny I have alone. Yeah, kind of annoying. Inspired by song of the same name by Katy Perry. I still take song requests, people! Seriously. :) Thank you and this is dedicated to Reader-writer-anonymous for the support since Chapter One. Words with one of these (*) will be explained at the end of the chapter.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it. Pranks on Donovan. :)

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

_**P.P.S. READ ME SECOND! I will be doing time skips from now on. As much as I'd like to go into a super-detailed life, that isn't me. I don't do minutiae unless my Sherlock Muse decides to observe everything, k? Great. Just letting you guys know!**_

**DMMWw Wide Awake DMMWw Wide Awake DMMWw**

**-Four Years Later-**

Harry herded his children to the park smiling as Albus took his sister's hands and took them to the sand-box. Sherlock was with him, cobalt eyes watching their children with hawk-eyes. John was currently on his second thesis and Severus would be joining them shortly after he finished making the supply of Wolfsbane for Hogwarts.

"Hello!" Sherlock scrambled to sit right next to him as the woman cheerfully greeted them. They laced fingers and ignored her, Sherlock's eyes deducing everything about her. "Hello? Umm..."

"You are obviously waiting for us to reply to your irritating greeting. You have yet to introduce yourself."

"Oh. I'm Mary Sue." Sherlock glanced at Harry before laughing. "My name isn't funny."

"Actually, it is. Have you seen the Internet memes?" Her bright smile dropped as she noticed their hands.

"You're gay?"

"... Obviously." Harry said as if she were a particularly slow snail.

"Then why are you here?"

"Our children are playing."

"Oh." Harry rolled his eyes at her ignorance and let out a sharp whistle. "Do you have a dog?"

"You could say that." Sherlock drawled sarcastically. Mozart herded the children out of wherever they were playing in at the moment and loped back at the pace of their four-year-olds. "Mozart, heel. Good boy." Sherlock's slender fingers petted the massive wolf-dog as he panted. He dug out his smartphone and texted someone, Mycroft most likely, to track the woman down. Lily crawled into Harry's lap, as did Eileen. Albus stared at Sherlock until the consulting detective picked him up.

"You are just like your Father, Al." Their only son beamed at the compliment as Sherlock stroked back a strand that Harry swore his child had inherited from him. "So, ice cream or Angelo's?"

"Hmm. They do look hungry and Sev did say that he might drag John away from his thesis." The woman left in a huff, flouncing away in a ridiculously poofy skirt. "Who exactly was she?"

"I have no idea, to be honest. Her makeup was smudged, one heel was slightly shorter than the other and was fixed at some point meaning she broke it and her skirt had a stain that was reddish-brown in color, blood, I think. Her cardigan matched her heels; she had smears of ink on her right wrist and elbow, meaning she's a secretary that works with a printer she has to fix. She didn't travel very far since I could only see the dirt typical of this area on her heels. She has smoker's wrinkles around her lips and her teeth were a faint yellow color. The only reason she came out of her office was to have a smoke and then back inside. Apparently, this is routine since the other parents acknowledged her in some way. She thought we were separate parents by the way we acted, having not seen our entrance into the park."

"Motivation?" Harry asked with a soft laugh as he placed Eileen and Lily in their buggies and strapped them in.

"One-night stand with either of us, preferably you. Her wedding ring was in the left pocket of her skirt and there was a distinct tan-line around her left ring finger." Sherlock finished with a smirk. "It's a shame you're taken. She's watching us right now from her office window. Kiss?"

"Sure." He slid his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, his fingers digging into Sherlock's curls as they kissed each other senseless.

"Papa! Ewwy!" Harry breathlessly laughed, smothering his daughters in kisses as well. "Eeek!"

"Ah, the call of a distressed princess! Fear not, little ones." Severus chuckled, unstrapping Lily and scooping her up, getting a delighted squeal. "I'll save you from the master of the kisses."

"Daddy silly." Severus gave her a soft smile and Harry swore he heard an 'Awww' from the collective mothers gathered. John followed him, taking Eileen and allowing her to tug on his ponytail. He'd grown it out on Harry's request. Severus's smile turned predatory. Eileen giggled, reaching for Lily as John was also kissed. Tawny-laced hazel eyes lit up with happiness.

"Harry, Sherlock. Sev dragged me away from my thesis again."

"You're almost as bad as I am when it comes to research. Of course I'm dragging you away." Sev replied as he shifted Lily to his hip. "Angelo's it is."

* * *

They entered the doorway and Angelo greeted them with a smile.

"I had a feeling you'd be by today. Come."

"I still swear he has some latent Talent." Harry muttered as they sat down. "Nobody's that good." Albus whined softly, looking up with puppy-eyes the same exact shade as his own.

"Hungry..."

"In a minute cub." Harry soothed, smiling at his son. He gently carded his fingers through Lily's hair as she snoozed against him. "Eileen, hun, don't suck on your fingers." She squirmed in Sherlock's arms and the consulting detective lifted her up enough so that she could see the street. She pointed to a sharply dressed woman speaking into an earpiece.

"That one, hmm? Alright." Eileen smiled brightly as Sherlock proceeded to entertain them with his deduction skills. "Business woman, stressed since her hair is loose in certain places, she has two cats (one white, the other a tabby), happily married for at least three years. Takes the tube to work every morning at precisely eight fifteen. The spatter suggests she was out in yesterday's downpour with an umbrella, but did not manage to get off all of the mud from her visit to the Thames artists. The deal on the other end just went sour but she's trying to patch it up with another offer. Hmm, her husband is standing not three feet from her. His expression states that he is amused with her. She is thinking of him, playing with the pendant he got her just a few days ago. She's noticed him."

"Père* smart." Eileen giggled as Angelo brought them their food.

"That one is going to be beautiful. All of them are."

"I have shotguns." John growled, his hand reaching towards his waist where his SIG Sauer is kept. "And my service pistol."

"You are the one the suitors will fear." Angelo laughed as he whisked away their menus.

"Dam-Dang right they will." Albus giggled as he used the fork to spin spaghetti noodles around and fed himself, sauce smearing all over his face. Sherlock jumped as his smartphone buzzed, Harry shaking his head.

"Mycroft says she's harmless and to avoid the park for the next few days. Fiona's going over the safety specs for us."

"Why does she always change her name and why is it that the cubs can keep up with them when I can't?" Severus complained as he rescued the meatball from Lily's lap by a subtle wave of his hand. She reached for the meatball with both hands and Harry cleared his throat. Big grey eyes looked up at him innocently.

"You know that's wrong, cub. Where's your fork?" She pointed at the table. "Good. Can you use it?" Lily nodded vigorously, her red curls bouncing. He smiled as she ate the meatball after Severus cut it up into bite-sized pieces.

* * *

Harry tugged on the hunk of silver that Severus had gained slowly over the last year.

"My Seeker, I will turn you into a hummingbird and stick you in a glass jar if you tug on that again." came Severus's sleepy response.

"What is it?"

"I'm getting old Harry. It's a sign of aging."

"You're only fifty-six." he pointed out as John stretched against Sherlock and pressed a kiss into said person's shoulder.

"Lucius Malfoy is older than me and he has no silver."

"He's going bald." Harry told his husband with his nose wrinkled. "You have it way better."

"My Mother did not have silver hair."

"Sev, it's fine. Actually I kind of like it. It makes you distinguished."

"... That's your way of telling me I'm getting old." Severus's eyes narrowed at him as Sherlock tumbled out of bed and almost into the pile of adorable sleeping right outside of their door.

"Aww, was there a storm?" John immediately brought their three brats up onto the bed, where Lily patted Severus's silver streak with a curious expression.

"Daddy, why is it diff'rent?"

"I'm getting all of them from you, little Lilyflower." Her wide grey eyes made his husband smile softly at their youngest. "No, not all of them are from you, sweetheart. Your Papa and Père caused some of them too." he told her seriously, tugging lightly on one of her curls.

"An' Leen an' Al too?" She asks an answering smile on her sweet face.

"Not as much as you, little Seeker." Harry grins at the nickname, knowing Lily's at home in the sky and on the ground. "You know that. Do you want to watch Spirit?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Ask your brother and sister first."

Their breakfast was finished rather quickly as Severus put in the DreamWorks DVD, the dishes being washed and dried by magic. They watched the movie for different reasons, but they all knew it meant one thing to them; freedom.

_**Come on, don't judge a thing**_

_**Till you know what's inside it**_

_**Don't push me, I'll fight it**_

_**Never gonna give in**_

_**Never gonna give it up, no**_

_**No, oh, oh, oh**_

_**If you can't catch a wave**_

_**Then you're never gonna ride it**_

_**You can't come uninvited**_

_**Never gonna give in**_

_**Never gonna give it up, no**_

_**You can't take me, I'm free**_

_**I'm free**_

Severus always mouthed the last two verses of a certain song, his hand rubbing the dull grey Mordesmorde. Lily and Eileen were engrossed in the movie but Albus noticed snuggling closer to his Daddy. Severus hugged him closer and pressed a kiss into the dark hair. John sat on the floor with their daughters in his lap. They were staring at the screen laughing when it was funny and gasping at the appropriate spots. Harry tugged the black silk ribbon loose, sliding his fingers through hair that could never decide what color to be.

"Mmm, that feels nice, kitten. Brush?" Harry smiled as he Summoned the brush, starting at the bottom soft-brushing his way up and gently tugging out the knots. "I'm taking a break from my thesis for now."

"Good. It's about time you did." Sherlock murmured as he coaxed Lily onto his lap, humming a French lullaby as she curled up and used his thigh as a pillow. A phone buzzed and Sherlock grinned. "I think Lestrade has a case for us."

"I see you still haven't managed to lose any of that energy." Severus chuckled dryly as Albus yawned. Sherlock balanced Lily on his hip with one hand, texting with the other as he gently carded through Lily's curls.

"Of course not. Lestrade still brings me in on cases. I was beginning to get bored."

"Are you taking Lily with you?" Harry asked as he wove John's hair into a loose braid.

"If you'd like to come. I'm sure Lily will put up a fuss when she sees Donovan."

* * *

Being in his Spec. Unit W duster brought back memories of when they'd all go to a crime scene and have it done in less than half an hour. Lily made his image softer, less likely to be dangerous but she made the witness speak up instead of shrinking into the crowd.

"Oh, what a lovely little girl." she cooed at Lily and his little Seeker buried her face into his shoulder as Sherlock deduced everything with his usual attention to detail.

"Lilyflower, say hello." She peeped out of her hair shyly and waved a little. "She's a little shy."

"She has gorgeous hair. Did she get it from her mother?"

"Mine, actually. Her surrogate had the curls."

"Is he your husband?" She motioned to Sherlock, who was taking the piss out of recently-divorced Anderson.

"No he's not. He's married to a friend of mine, though. Can you tell me whether or not you saw the killer?"

"I can identify him. I don't want him hurting anyone anymore." she said softly.

"That's fine."

"Bye." Lily waved to the woman as she was taken to the Yard. "Papa, love you." She pressed a kiss to his lips and he grinned as he walked up to Sherlock.

"I love you too, Lily. All done genius?"

"Did the witness talk with you?" Greg asked, smiling at Lily.

"Our little Seeker disarmed her enough that she said she'd identify the killer if he was in the line-up."

"Wow she's gotten big. Hi, Lily."

"Greggy!" Lily squealed, reaching for him with tiny arms. "Up."

"Okay but only if your Papa says yes." She turned her big grey eyes on him, begging cutely.

"Merlin, don't give me that expression! It's how your Daddy gets away with everything..." He laughed as he handed Lily over to Greg as Donovan strode over to them.

"So the freaks are here."

"Donovan, I really think you should stop antagonizing us." he said levelly as he watched Greg toss his daughter up into the air. "I will kill you if you talk to my daughter that way." Harry continued casually, flicking his duster aside to reveal the standard issue sword. "I'll make sure you'll be a nice new cadaver for Sherlock to play with. Do we understand each other?" Greg wiped the sweat from his eyes and handed Lily back over.

"Whew! Getting heavy, Lilybean."

"Silly Greggy. Not a bean." she giggled before spotting Donovan. She whimpered and hid her face against Harry's chest. "Scawy."

"I know little Seeker. What say we make her hair green, hmm? Like Albus's eyes." he whispered as he discreetly aimed his magic.

"Please?" He grinned like a shark wordlessly changing Donovan's hair to a bright green. "Ooo, pretty." None of the other officers pointed it out, snickering quietly as she passed them. Harry reigned his magic in and nuzzled his cub.

* * *

The romantic air made him grin at his husband of thirteen years and his lovers of five. Mycroft and Kingsley had taken their hooligans for the night. The rooftop of their house had been turned into an exact replica of their vacation in Eze, down to the balcony of the pensione*.

"Sev, you sly Snake."

"I do try my Seeker. Our wolf has been taking off time to arrange the chairs and our genius has composed a piece for our anniversary. It's been five years for them and nearly a decade and a half for us, hmm?" Severus massaged his neck as he poured them all wine and motioned for him to sit. John grinned as he brought up the plates, uncovering Harry's favorites.

"_Oh_..." His heart felt warm and he was surprised to feel tears welling up. "Damn it." He swiped at the tears, blinking as Sherlock offered him his handkerchief.

"I'm glad you like it, kitten."

**Ending A/N:** I do apologize for it taking so long and for the chapter being so short. I was involved in this massive fic, The Iron Knight and the Green Mage, going along with my Avengers kick. I also have another Avengers fic in the works and will get back to my other serialized story when I finish that particular plunny. Please check it out and review!

_**REMEMBER: REVIEWS = LOVE**_

*French for Father

*A house rented out to people on vacation, popular in Europe as opposed to hotels


	13. Dance with The Devil

**A/N:** So I got a question as to who is who amongst the parents. Nice question, splotchphantom, and one I expected a couple of chapters ago. Too bad you disabled the PM function. Here's the order in which the titles are used:

Sherlock- Pére; Severus- Daddy; John- Father; Harry- Papa

As for your second question? You intrigued me enough that they will be going. As for whether it'll be a Muggle school? You'll see. Inspired by song of the same name by Breaking Benjamin. Words with one of these (*) at the end will be explained after the Ending A/N.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it. Idiots and fan guys, people, idiots and fan guys who are a little bit creepy folks. Sherlock holds a gun at some point.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

_**P.P.S. READ ME SECOND! I will be doing time skips from now on. As much as I'd like to go into a super-detailed life, that isn't me. I don't do minutiae unless my Sherlock Muse decides to observe everything, k? Great. Just letting you guys know!**_

**DMMWw Dance with The Devil DMMWw Dance with The Devil DMMWw**

Sherlock looked at the school and then down at their children. John gave him a reassuring smile as they herded Albus, Lily and Eileen towards the neat building.

"The woman over the phone said Room 23." They stopped in front of the innocent-looking door and opened it to barely-controlled chaos. John let out a piercing whistle learned from his military days. The chaos instantly stopped as all of the children froze to see them in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" The woman was in her late-thirties and appeared to have children of the same age. Her hair was pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail (stressor lines indicated this was an oft-worn style), her dress simple and her heels well-maintained. He looked her over as he checked the classroom for child-proofing. Nails were short and buffed regularly ( meaning she was hygienic), her hands smelled of disinfectant (most likely from working 24/7 with these hooligans), her cardigan draped over the shoulders of her desk chair. She also had several drawing pinned behind her desk, indicating she cared for her students. Greg had been very thorough in his assessment.

"We are here to drop off our children." he said in a slightly warmer tone than he normally reserved for cases.

"Ah. They are?"

"Albus Potter-Watson, Lily Potter-Snape and Eileen Holmes." John answered as Sherlock knelt to their smaller height.

"Behave and no magic whilst you are here. If you get into a fight, slap don't punch. Albus, don't hit any girls; it's ungentlemanly. Have a good day."

"Yes, Pére." they chorused dutifully as they engulfed him in a hug. He closed his eyes and basked in their presence.

"Good. John, we need to be at the scene in ten minutes. Greg said something about needing my help." Turning sharply on his heel, he studiously ignored the brimming tears until they were in the taxi and they spilled over without permission. John soothed him as he composed himself, directing the emotions into a forbidden corridor of his mind palace. "Why was it so hard?" John smiled as he wiped away all traces that he'd been crying like a child.

"They're our kids, genius. Of course you're attached to them more than the rest of us. They sleep on you when you're solving a case, they're in the kitchen helping you with your experiments... I expected I'd be the one bursting into tears; not you." He smiled at John's tone as he rearranged his scarf, staring out of the window.

* * *

They arrived at the scene soon enough and it seemed Donovan had gained some common sense. She watched him warily as he went about deducing the case, directing more venom than was completely necessary at Anderson.

"Spilled ingredients, yet no trail leading out of the kitchen... Hmm. Ugh, everyone out! You're obliterating the evidence when you trod like that." he snapped, expecting Greg and John to remove the idiots at once. He retraced the footsteps of the man and nearly stepped on the body as he did so. Sherlock's feline grace kicked in at the appropriate moment; he stopped short of touching the body.

The blue lips and tongue indicated strangulation, but of what kind he had yet to figure out, several half-formed theories running through his mind. Sherlock curled his lip at the unclothed body, his mind running faster than the bullet train outside of the window. He strode back into the kitchen and looked up to see what looked like a device used for autoerotic asphyxia. The solution snapped into place as he stepped over the dead body to find a woman holding her head in her hands and conversing with what seemed to be empty air. She was dressed in a bathrobe that was far too big and had slipped down one shoulder. Sherlock shuddered slightly at the glazed look in her eyes.

"I can't go any harder, I'm sorry... I can loosen it... I'm sorry..."

"Madame." He said firmly, standing in what John called his imitating pose. Wide, tear-filled brown eyes met hard cobalt. "I take it you tugged a little too hard on the cord? He is very much dead, so stop apologizing."

"... Oh. Are you the police?"

"No." he sneered at the thought of truly being part of that mind-numbing idiocy. "I am not part of Scotland Yard."

"Who are you then?"

"Sherlock Holmes, only consulting detective in the world. I suggest you go quietly; maybe they'll charge you will involuntary manslaughter." he told her shortly, hauling her up by the collar of the bathrobe & marching her out of the apartment. "Involuntary manslaughter via sexual satisfaction. Are we done yet?" Sherlock dusted his hands as the woman was handcuffed and slipped his fingers through John's as they walked away from the crime scene.

* * *

Their leisurely stroll brought them into Trafalgar Square, where the tourists were not so subtly gawking at them. Sherlock ignored them to the best of his abilities, which was rather difficult as he was itching to deduce the idiots who were staring at their joined hands. He was just waiting for the first insult. John kissed the back of his hand and it seemed to trigger the group of giggling teenage girls (Americans, judging by the obnoxious clothing and accents).

"Oh my Gawd. They're gay." the way the girl said it made him twitch in sympathy of the English language. Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes, tugging John along and sitting on one of the benches.

"Idiots, all of them." he murmurs to his husband.

"They're someone's children." came John's subtle response.

"Are they kissing? No? Aww... I wanted a picture so that I could post it up on Facebook." Sherlock grinned as he turned to John.

"Sherlock... No."

"Why not? I've been busy lately and this is the perfect opportunity." John sighs but gives in with a gentle smile. Sherlock hums as John willingly straddles his lap, pressing kisses along his cheekbones and then his mouth. He slides his tongue against John's lips, asking for permission. His wolf opens his mouth without protest as they lazily kiss, content in tasting each other, basking in the others presence. They pull away after a long kiss, hearing wolf-whistles and cat-calls from the group of girls. One of the teens split from the group and approached them.

"Hello. Umm, you heard us, didn't you?" Sherlock allows his gaze to literally raze her to the ground.

"Of course we did. You were loud enough that all of New Scotland Yard could hear you." he responded in the same tone he used on Anderson. "That conversation would take approximately 16. 8 minutes to be heard. The volume does help that fact." The girl turned bright red and sputtered before looking at them a little closer.

"Who are you?"

"Just a consulting detective." he smirked as he answered, most of his attention on John's possessive nips under his scarf. "John... I'm trying to ruin her stay in England..."

"Don't care what you do, genius, just don't move." John hummed as he attacked Sherlock's neck again.

"What?"

"I spoke clearly. Go away or I will make your stay in England most unpleasant."

"Why, I never-"

"Yes, you have and it's become a habit with you. Go back to the giggling idiots you call friends." he retorted sharply, texting Mycroft as a matter of habit.

_**Watch that group and make sure to fulfill my promise. -SH**_

His phone buzzed and he read the response before enjoying John's attention.

_Dinner with Kings and myself at eight. Bring the little ones. Helena misses them. -MH_

He tugged John over to his favorite café and ordered tea for both of them as they people watched. John would point out a tourist or a fellow citizen, Sherlock obliged in deducing every minor detail much to his husband's amusement.

"You're in fine fettle this afternoon genius."

"You brightened my day in a matter of moments when you agreed to let me deduce everyone you pointed out, little wolf." he replied unabashedly, lacing their hands back together. John flashed him a brilliant smile causing Sherlock to give one in return.

* * *

They saw their children sitting outside of the building, Albus holding onto his sister's hands.

"Well?"

"Most of them didn't like us." Eileen mumbled as she pressed her face against his scarf. Sherlock had picked her up and John was holding both Albus and Lily as though the strain to his right shoulder was nothing. He detected faint tremors in John's arm, absently texting Mycroft to send a car from his pocket with ease. He'd been doing it for years after all.

"Why not?" John asked in a soft voice.

"Cause we have two dads. I didn't tell them about Papa or Daddy." Albus hummed as he played with Lily's vibrant curls.

"Good. Most people still frown upon our relationship. It is better to keep quiet for now." Sherlock stated, "We're having dinner with Uncle Mycroft and Kingsley. Helena's been missing you all."

"There, Daddy. There's the freaks." Sherlock turned his suddenly furious gaze on the small child and the boy froze. The boy's father took one look at him and then at John's SIG Sauer strapped to John's thigh (bless Mycroft for getting John a license to carry). "Daddy?"

"Son, where did you hear that from?"

"Mummy."

"Well, Mummy was wrong. I apologize for my son's behavior, Mr...?"

"Sherlock Holmes. This is my partner John Watson-Holmes."

"Wait, _the_ Holmes? As in the consulting detective? I've read all of your blog, Dr. Watson."

"You do? It's not that good." John's blush made Sherlock want to kiss his husband for the fourth time today.

"You've tracked his cases from beginning to end. I think it's a bit amazing, actually. These are your children?"

"Surrogate." Sherlock hummed at his curious gaze. Eileen peeped from under her dark curls with a serious sapphire gaze.

"I don' like him." she whispered. Eileen was quiet in a way Sherlock would never be and reminded him of his Father. The feelings were usually correct and Sherlock had an idea as to which parent they came from; namely Harry and his uncanny ability to detect personalities.

"I know un bach.* John, come." One of Mycroft's black cars pulled up and he ushered their children into the back seat along with John before closing the door gently. He waited for the other man to also place his child into the car before motioning for the man to follow him.

"What did you want to-Oh my God." Sherlock smiled as he ran his fingers down John's SIG Sauer. Oh John would notice before he gave it back, certainly, but he wouldn't mind its use as a tool.

"I want you to leave us alone. I could care less whether or not you read my husband's blog. You won't talk to my children nor interact with John. Are we clear?" he told the other softly, clicking the safety off in sight of the man's eyes.

"Y-Yes! I'll leave you all alone..."

"Swear it." he growled, leveling the gun over the man's heart.

"I swear!" Sherlock smirked as Magic made it so.

"Good. Never tell anyone about this. I'll know if you do."

"... Not even my wife?"

"Especially not your wife."

* * *

Surprisingly, John accepted his service revolver with an understanding smile.

"That man was giving my empathy shields a good shaking. I can't imagine what he was doing to Eileen's."

"She said she didn't like him. Therefore I acted prudently."

"No need to explain, genius. If you hadn't done it Mycroft or I would have. By the way, when you hold my gun, it's unbelievably sexy." John whispered into his ear, the children giggling as John pressed butterfly kisses along his throat and pulling his scarf away.

"John..." he chuckled, gasping as John's soft kisses became nips.

"Father..." Albus whined, his nose wrinkled. John hummed and gave a particularly harsh nip, soothing it with his tongue before putting him to rights, his scarf covering the hickey starting to form.

"Grossed out, cub?" John teased as he kissed Albus's forehead and tickle Lily gently.

"Yuck! James said boys don't get kisses from their Dads."

"James?" Sherlock asked, his interest peeked. So that was what Eileen had meant...

"Uh-huh. He said we were besest friends ever. He said he didn't mind that I had two Dads cause he's got two Mums."

"Trust you to find the only boy to have two Mums... Eileen, Lily, did you make any friends?"

"Yeah! She was all lonely and the other girls were giving her mean looks, so me an' Leen gave her a hug." Lily chirruped with a bright smile, nudging Eileen who gave her sister a small smile.

"Eileen and I, un bach. That was a very... nice thing to do." he managed with a grimace. He hated that word.

"Her name's Yūhi.*" Eileen said without prompting, knowing his next question. They did have similar thought processes, could anticipate the questions before they even came into existence.

"Japanese for sunset. Hmm, interesting name." He reached for his phone when she frowned at him.

"Pére, no text to Unc'a Myc." He laughed as he put his phone away, resolving to text or tell his brother later.

"You know me too well, hmm?" he asked, mostly to himself as he stroked the riot of curls out of her face.

"Uh-huh."

"Rhetorical question, un bach."

* * *

They pulled up to Mycroft's mansion, the children piling out as Severus and Harry Apparated in. He hummed into Severus's mouth as his older lover kissed him thoroughly. Sherlock also recieved a kiss from Harry, slender hands absently massaging his lower back as they parted just to stare at each other, foreheads resting together.

"Love you kitten." he murmured as they broke apart, yelping as Severus tossed him over his shoulder with ease. "Sev! Put me down!" Sherlock whined as he dangled from Severus's grip.

"I most certainly will not." came the teasing reply. "I'm still young enough to carry my lover."

"Mycroft's going to see my _arse_." he half-heartedly complained, warmed by the care behind the gesture.

"He's your brother. I daresay he's seen it before." The dry response makes him laugh.

"Fine." he made faces at their children from his position, resting his elbows on Severus's back for support. "Be asinine."

"Severus, a pleasure to... Is that Sherlock on your shoulder?" Kingsley greeted his lover warmly before it faded into confusion. He saw that John had suffered the same fate with Harry only he was in the slightly more dignified position of the bridal kind.

"Unfortunately, yes." he drawled as he held Lily's hand. Their daughter giggled at his predicament. "Just wait, I'll have you in the same predicament in a few days." Sherlock promised, already devising a way to catch her unawares with back-up plans including Harry and John. Severus carried him through the Holmes Manor before setting him down in his lap. "Severus..."

"Yes, genius?"

"Why are you carrying me about? And why is John smirking at me as though he knows something I don't?" he huffed as Kingsley laughed.

"It's my birthday today, Sherlock." the taller man pointed out.

"Oh." Sherlock cursed the fact that he had fair skin as he blushed in embarrassment. "Severus, put me down." His older lover let him go with a raised eyebrow. "I have something to do."

He lengthened his stride and soon found himself out on the grounds, breathing in the night air. The soft call of his element made him grin. The earth rumbled as he called a good-sized chunk of amber from Demark. He used his magic to carve a detailed Eurasian lynx; adding the finishing touch on the statue and letting it drop into his cradled hands when it was finished. Placing it behind his back and fixing the Manor's grounds, he strode back just as quickly as he'd left. Kingsley was sitting in Mycroft's lap, appearing to enjoy his obnoxious brother's company.

"What is that?" Kingsley tried to peek around him as he motioned that Severus should gift-wrap it. "You wrapped it?"

"I made it." he admitted, handing over the statue carefully.

"Just now?" Kingsley asked as he tore the wrapping paper off like he was Eileen's age Banishing it with a flick of his wand.

"Yes." Sherlock was nothing if not brutally honest at times though he toned it down due to John, Severus and Harry's influence.

"It's beautiful. Myc, look at this..." Mycroft just smirked at him as he turned his attention to his lover. Sherlock rolled his eyes and mouthed 'Marry him already, you prat.' Mycroft ignored him as he sat back in Severus's lap and discussed how he'd called forth his Elemental abilities, quietly pleased with the smile on Kingsley's face.

**Ending A/N:** Okay, so first, I don't hate Americans. I am one so that'd be a little hypocritical of me. But I do realize that most of the time, American tourists are the easiest to spot due to our way of dress and the volume at which we speak. I am not saying that ALL Americans are like that; far from it. Having lived in Europe for eight years has given me an insight to the culture that I would not otherwise have; thus the other side of what it looks like to Europeans. *sighs* I miss Europe. I know it's only been a few months since I moved back to the States but I feel, I dunno, out of place. It's an odd feeling. Also? Kingsley's age/birthday has not been revealed. So, as a writer, I'm taking the liberty of giving him one. :) Anywho, enough of my whining/rant/personal opinions! Please review and tell me what you thought! This fic only has three chapters left to go before it's finished. I think I'll leave it open-ended in case anyone would like to attempt a sequel. Thank you all for your reviews and support!

_**REMEMBER: REVIEWS = LOVE**_

*Welsh for little one

*Japanese for sunset


	14. Diamonds

**A/N:** For Ryuze (an anon guest) my apologies for not including the recipe. It's actually sopapilla cheesecake; I'll put it at the end of this chapter. Also, finally! Someone gets what I was driving at the entire time. Thank God. I worry about you guys sometimes. Inspired by the song of the same name by Rhianna. I love the favs and alerts, really I do, but can you con-crit? I know it can be better. Also, apologies for being so late with this baby. I've had to wrestle my Muses away from my latest Sherlock AU. It's called Independent and probably will be finished by December... If they cooperate.

**DISCLAIMER:** If I owned either series, most people wouldn't want to read/watch them. Alas, I do not and no matter how much I deduce or wave my wand, I will never own them. Thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the lovely Ms. Rowling for these characters as well as the BBC for modernizing Sherlock to make this sort of thing even possible...

**WARNING:** This is an Alternate Universe. If you did not catch the drift within the A/N, let me point it out in big, bold letters. _**THIS IS A YAOI FIC.**_ As with all my warnings, if you do not like slash or the pairings mentioned above, stop reading and click the back button. It isn't that hard to do. Reading any farther than the third line of this warning means one thing only; you enjoy slash. Excellent. There will be the probability of M-Preg as this is magic and anything goes! If M-Preg bothers you, please follow line three to the back button. If you appreciate a good story even if it's not your thing, then you're welcome to it.

Ryder

_**P.S. READ THIS FIRST! Not all of the characters encountered will have Talent*. In fact most of them are perfectly normal. Don't freak out if your favorite character doesn't have it. I might even write an omake or two if you review prettily.**_

**DMMWw Diamonds DMMWw Diamonds DMMWw**

_**-Hogwarts Express; September 1st-**_

Severus smiled at his children, shaking his head at the stares they drew. He'd followed John's course and had grown out his hair; it now reached his waist in a casual braid. Albus looked up at him and smiled back. Lily and Eileen were ahead of them, chatting with Scorpious, Draco's child and yet again his godson.

"Father?" the unsure voice was directed at John, who knelt with a questioning gaze at his child. "What if I get into Ravenclaw?"

"Then you're brilliant like your Pére."

"Daddy?" Lily had flounced back to him and was dragging a fairly shocked little blond who certainly wasn't Scorpious. "His name's Louis. Can I keep him?" Severus looked down at brilliant white-blond hair and lavender eyes before frowning at his daughter.

"No, you may not. Go find a compartment before you have to sit with your brother and sister." he sighed, hugging her before shooing her away. "Now, Louis, where did my little one drag you from?"

"Maman was busy talking to Aunt 'Mione." Ah, so this one was one of the many Weasley brats. The subtle Veela pheromones placed this one as the youngest of Bill Weasley's brood; Fleur was probably worried sick. He knew he would be if Lily, Albus or Eileen had vanished.

"Louis?! Louis?!" Right on cue. He offered his hand to the little boy and grunted slightly when the child essentially clung to his neck after he picked him up.

"Fleur? Where's Louis?" Bill Weasley's tone was soft, caring for his wife even as the blue eyes swept over the crowd. A look of relief brightened his face as he spotted Severus with the child in his arms.

"Right here. My apologies; Lily brought him to me. I convinced her to leave him with me. That girl is more stubborn than Harry and I put together." he chuckled as Louis played with his braid.

"Oh, Louis, you scared me..." Fleur's accent thickened as she stroked the child's cheek.

"Is okay, maman. Sevvy's nice." The small hand patted his cheek and he bit back a sigh.

"Louis. Severus has places to go and things to do. Come here." The child's grip tightened around his neck. He chuckled wryly, carding his fingers through the fine blond hair in a rhythm. As the grip went slack, he massaged Louis's back and got the favored response. He handed the sleepy child back to Fleur, who rose a brow at his calming technique.

"Albus used to do the same thing when he was younger. It's nothing unusual." he reassured her.

"Per'aps we should allow you to babysit zat stubborn child of ours, oui?" Her soft hazel eyes peaked with something that seemed like gratefulness as she held her sleeping child close.

"He is a handful with others?" Severus murmured as John hugged him from behind. Sherlock was holding Harry close, a slight wetness to his eyes. The children were fine, logically, but the send-off had set off Harry and John's emotions. Severus would also admit to a tug on his heart as would Sherlock. He turned for a moment and wrapped John in an embrace, turning back as Fleur answered.

"Zat is an understatement. Ze little one ees a handful on a good day."

"Perhaps I can be available? I know that Harry and John will fawn over him. They'll be driving Sherlock & I up the wall within the week." he offered, Summoning his card with a casual flick of his hand. She took it with a bright smile as she walked towards the Floo Rooms.

"Zat would be nice."

* * *

True to his words, Harry was torn between visiting Hogwarts just for old times' sake and because neither John nor Sherlock had seen it.

"Harry I thought you had that camping date with Teddy?" Sherlock hummed from where he was buried in un-solved cases from both the Muggle and Magical Worlds, books cracked on the cases that mixed both. It was John that Severus worried about. John had retreated on himself. Time to remedy that before it got out of hand.

He found their wolf staring out listlessly at the falling leaves.

"Something on your mind, wolf?"

"Maybe." The dulled hazel gave him an idea.

"Shooting range? They have the Magical equivalent on Diagon Alley."

"Since when?" the response was much more alert than he'd been expecting. Perhaps this was a good idea after all.

"It opened about a week ago." he hummed as John's face lit up. Severus gave into the urge to kiss the younger Talent senseless. John moaned softly into his mouth, allowing him to explore every inch of the warm sensual mouth with his tongue. They hadn't kissed like that since Hermione had offered to hold the children. "You know, I think I have a much better idea..." he purred as he pinned John to the glass window, sliding a hand under John's fluffy cardigan to caress the lean musculature that had yet to lose its definition.

"Severus..." came the breathy pant as he Banished the cardigan to the other end of the room. "That's my favorite-Oh!" Severus scraped his teeth over the tender spot John had on his collarbone. "Merlin, that feels good. How... Mmm, nevermind." He'd stripped off his casual button down and was busy divesting John of his shirt when he heard the audible breath of Sherlock. He traded glances with sly sapphire eyes and turned John around so that his exposed back faced Sherlock's front. "What are you-Sher-Ohhh!" Their genius had palmed John's hips, a surprisingly arousing spot on the resident Healer. Sherlock kneaded them as he pressed his chest against John's shivering back.

"Hmm, much more interesting than dull paperwork..."

* * *

Harry giggled as he found them in a heap in front of the fire, John snuggly in the middle as they left soft kisses on his sweat-slick skin.

"Want to join in?" Sherlock invited with what they all knew to be bedroom eyes.

"Hmm. Be harassed until I join or kiss John senseless for what seems to be more than once in two hours?" his husband tapped his lips like he was thinking as John rolled his eyes.

"No just join the pile! Sherlock, I swear I will give you the biggest case of blue b-Mmm?" Harry kissed John as he settled under the blankets with little fanfare. "Not you as well? Those two just had their way with me."

"Can't help that you look so tempting now, luv. Being ravished suits you in a way that makes us love you even more." Harry replied with a lusty smirk.

"Harry." he reprimanded softly, carding his fingers through John's hair.

"Fine." They all slowly fell asleep, curled together for warmth in front of the fireplace.

* * *

He awoke to someone Flooing them. Severus flicked his braid over his shoulder and stole Sherlock's shirt to look presentable as he knelt in front of the fire place.

"Yes?"

"Ah, Severus. I was actually looking for a Mr. Holmes?" Minerva gave him a smile as he absently checked on the still sleeping trio.

"Depends on which you want; Watson-Holmes or just Holmes, Minnie."

"I believe Watson-Holmes as he is my Healer. I take it you had a night to yourselves?" her reply is coy and he scowls at her briefly before tugging a sleepy John from the middle of the puppy pile.

"John." Severus gently stroked away the sleep-mussing locks from John's face only to have their wolf burrow further into his side and protest.

"Mmm-mmm. Five more minutes..."

"John. It's Minerva." he shook his lover a little harder to waken him. Past training allowed him to snap awake and see Minerva's face in the fireplace.

"Oh. My apologies Minnie. What is it?" John stayed where he was, content to remain limp in Severus's arms for a little while longer.

"My knees, John. I was hoping you could drop by?"

"Sev, what time is it?" Severus cast a wandless Tempus, raising a brow at the time floating in the air, the number eleven almost mocking him. "Oh. Well, um, of course. Do I need to come alone?"

"No. You may have Severus accompany you."

* * *

Apparating to Minerva's cottage in the beautiful McGonagall highlands took little effort and he appreciated John's gasp of astonishment. He'd been much the same his first time here.

"Come along. I suppose Minnie will let you explore after you've tended to her." Severus teased gently as he tugged his lover along the path.

"This is bloody amazing... Good afternoon, Minerva."

"It is a good afternoon indeed, Healer Watson-Holmes." Severus smiled as the Scottish brogue washed over his senses. "What has you with a smile on your face, Severus?"

"You, Minerva. I've missed you." he murmured softly as he sat next to her.

"Well that can't be helped then. Your Healer's been treating you well I see." her tone made him chuckle wryly.

"It's the cubs that keep me on my toes. They went to Hogwarts a week ago."

"Did they? My, how times flies when one's alone... I suppose Harry and that delightful Holmes are still sleeping in?" she sighed as John's glowing hands ran over her knees. "Oh, John. That's ever so much better."

"You're more than welcome- Harry's not going to be happy we're not close by." As soon as the words left John's lips, a brilliantly silver stag trotted to a halt and had Harry's voice.

"Severus, John. I hope you're safe. Please send back a response."

Severus conjured up his own Patronus with a mutter of, "Expecto Patronum." The silvery stag burst forth from his wand-tip and nuzzled the other as it faded. "We're at Minnie's cottage. We'll be here for a while and then come home. We love you."

"And Harry, kitten, stop worrying so much. We're perfectly safe." John added with a laugh as he flopped back into the heather. The stag gave a little nod and sped off gracefully as Severus slouched in the comfortable chair. "Sev, come lay with me."

"We're getting too old for that sort of nonsense, John." he hummed. John's response was a raspberry followed by a kiss.

"Uh-huh. We're also too old to play the games we were playing yesterday. We did it anyway."

"Severus, you're barely a third of the way through your years." Minerva chuckled fondly, "Make the most of them."

"This infernal silver streak keeps getting me odd looks." he tugged on the strand that stubbornly remained the same color. "I can't glamour it either."

"Why would you? Harry loves it." John snorted lightly. "Besides which, I like it and Sherlock likes to braid it when you're still asleep."

"Muggles normally don't look my age and have silver in their hair in such a concentrated streak." Severus gave up with these words.

"No they don't. It does lend you an exotic flare though." came their wolf's response as he leaned against Severus's thigh, a small smile dancing on the firm lips he loved so well.

"The three of you are keeping me from glamouring. Lovely." he laughed softly, having realized what was keeping him from doing so in the first place.

"What do you mean?"

"Wish magic is the hardest to overcome as it is a manifestation of the caster's will. It's also known as accidental magic and wandless want. You do recall that intent is a great deal of what makes certain spells Dark and Light, yes?" Severus murmured as they breathed in the slightly nippy air.

"So our intention is to keep it visible. Huh." John hummed as Severus continued to massage his scalp lightly.

"Relatively harmless when it comes to intentions. However, take that same force of will and apply it to a nefarious purpose and you have Dark magic."

* * *

They Apparated back to the house to see Sherlock and Harry stepping out. The familiar deep blue scarf made both of them smile.

"Where are we going?" he asked as he Transfigured his Wizarding robes into a green turtleneck, black slacks and a leather duster.

"Nowhere in particular except into Muggle London." Sherlock smirked at his choice in wardrobe as he pulled his dark wool coat closer to his lanky frame. Harry was in a short leather jacket with a black sweater and jeans. John was in his usual cardigan and jeans, his coat pulled against the wind that swirled playfully around their home.

"Brrr... I hope you're taking us somewhere with warm tea." John muttered as he snuggled closer to Severus.

Harry took them to Dean Street House. The ambience was something that was easy, if a bit stiff from the slightly brusque wait-staff. Harry and John were talking about the best way to Heal certain wounds in low tones. Sherlock was fiddling with his phone but he'd plopped himself into Severus's lap and had placed his hands on his hips.

"Who in Merlin's name are you texting now, genius?" he murmured as he removed one hand to sip his Earl Grey.

"Mmm, Lestrade. He's been trying to find a date for his sister's wedding for nearly a month and the wedding's tomorrow. Do we know anyone open at that particular time that isn't attached?"

"Isn't Greg already married?" Harry hummed absently as he played with the end of John's ponytail.

"Not anymore. You do recall that his wife left him around the same time Anderson's did?"

"Ah. Would it concern you remotely if I told you Kingsley and your brother have been leaving him extravagant gifts?" Severus chuckled wryly as Sherlock stiffened before sighing.

"Mycroft is always sticking his nose in my business." came the grumbled response. "To answer your question, that is a yes. Greg was the first person outside of the family to much care for my deductions."

"You're miffed that he's not told you." he said lightly as he massaged Sherlock's hips with gentle circular motions,

"Perhaps."

"Give me your phone for a moment." It was more a command than a request but Sherlock gave it to him anyway.

"... Fine." He scrolled through the contacts and messaged Greg with a quick text.

_**Sherlock's miffed that you haven't told him yet about the gifts. I do know who they are from. Call if you would like to know. -SS**_

The phone rang barely a second later.

"Severus? How did you get Sherlock's phone?"

"I told him to hand it over for a moment. He's not as difficult as he'd like you to believe Greg." he snorted softly, rolling his eyes at Sherlock as he wormed his way around and was now straddling him in public. "Well?"

"I would like to know. My sister has started calling in favors from the bridesmaids. It's a bit terrifying to be honest. Those women are too young for me." came Greg's answer. "I told her I had a date to stop them from coming over. The gifts started the day after that and that was a month ago."

"It's Kingsley and Mycroft." Severus almost laughed but held in his amusement, a small grin tugging at his lips.

"... You're kidding." Greg's voice held incredulity.

"I am not. Kings won't shut up and Mycroft goes along with whatever Kings wants."

"Oh my God. What do I say?"

"Yes. It's quite simple, really, and Kingsley is fond of you."

* * *

**Ending A/N: **_**I HAVE FAN ART!**_ Yes! Finally! Thank you, Dom. You've been wonderful.

Okay, it'll be put up in my profile concurrently with this chapter. It's made me ridiculously happy and spurred this chapter on when I had been kind of lost before. I think it was the song I'd chosen. Oh well. You all get another chapter; I can sit here and enjoy my fanart. Only three more chapters before this fic is finished. I'm still taking song requests! For Ryuze, the recipe from the very first chapter is below this. Enjoy!

_**Sopapilla Cheesecake**_

Original recipe makes 1 - 9x13 inch cheesecake

2 (8 ounce) packages cream cheese, softened

1 cup white sugar

1 teaspoon Mexican vanilla extract

2 (8 ounce) cans refrigerated crescent rolls

3/4 cup white sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 cup butter, room temperature

1/4 cup honey

_**Directions**_

Preheat an oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Prepare a 9x13 inch baking dish with cooking spray.

Beat the cream cheese with 1 cup of sugar and the vanilla extract in a bowl until smooth.

Unroll the cans of crescent roll dough, and use a rolling pin to shape each piece into 9x13 inch rectangles. Press one piece into the bottom of a 9x13 inch baking dish. Evenly spread the cream cheese mixture into the baking dish, then cover with the remaining piece of crescent dough. Stir together 3/4 cup of sugar, cinnamon, and butter. Dot the mixture over the top of the cheesecake.

Bake in the preheated oven until the crescent dough has puffed and turned golden brown, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and drizzle with honey. Cool completely in the pan before cutting into 12 squares.


End file.

Harry Potter, Sherlock