12 December 2014

AC_D12: Another HPxSherlock story bit.

It's day 12 of the Advent calender and it's another Friday night. I'm super glad it's the weekend especially after yesterday's day in the snow. Trudging through inches of snow tires me out and makes me go to bed earlier than usual-it's what made me miss yesterday's blog post.

Anyway, today's post is going to be another crossover I started but never completed because I lost interest in Sherlock.

Summary: A drunken night out for Ron and Harry turns out a bit more dangerous than they'd initially expected. Danger, new friendships and a new baddie are bound to keep things interesting for a while.

Warnings: Plot holes. Very unedited.
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“And then,” Ron slurped his beer noisily. “We looked around the house and guess where little Fred was.”

Harry snickered. “He's been hanging around Teddy too long.”

Ron nodded. “Gosh, the look on Hermione's face was priceless. She was so beautiful when she was angry.”

“You're still a masochist.”

“And damn proud of it.” Ron said, “We're really lucky, eh?”

Harry nodded. “No doubt about it. Now what so you sat about ending out monthly drinking night with something spectacular?”

Ron rubbed his hands together in delight. “I suggest we go through with the pool plan.”

Harry scoffed. “You always suggest that plan.”

“And you always say no. But tonight you have to admit, it's the perfect plan for tonight.”

Harry tried to recall what made today so bad that Ron thought he'd actually agree to the 'pool' plan. But the alcohol had done it's work and the only thing Harry remembered about today was that it had bad enough to warrant all their drinking in a muggle bar so that they wouldn't be recognized.
He counted more than enough beer bottles at their table. “All right! Let's go ahead with the pool plan.”

Ron whooped in delight, placed a few bills of muggle money on the table and stumbled out of their booth. “I have everything prepared already. This is going to be our best work yet.”

Harry snorted. “You say that every month with every plan we carry out.”

“And I'm usually right, aren't I? People still don't know who put that purple llama in Buckingham palace or...”

“Yes, yes, don't speak so loudly or you'll get us caught.” Harry snickered. “But since we've failed to carry out this plan the past three times. I think we better employ some real luck this time.”

Ron grinned. “You have some Felix...”

Harry shushed him and looked around in slight worry but nodded.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“Why does the world always have something against our pool plan,” Ron said out loud. His voice seemed twice as loud in the empty place. “every single time, there's something or someone who stops us from...”

Even through the muted haze of alcohol, Harry could tell that the scene on the other side of the pool was not a friendly one. It's that thought that makes him look at all three faces carefully as Ron continued his drunken rant against the world. The curly-haired man wearing the black suit and holding a gun grabbed Harry's attention, making his sluggish mind search for a connection until he hissed with recognition. “Holmes?”

Ron, still and tense beside him, twitched as he paused for breath after his ridiculous rant and whispered, “Mycroft?”

“Shit! No,” Harry slapped Ron on the back, discreetly applying a sobering and a super-sensory charm on Ron and whispered softly. “The brother. That arse gave us pictures of him, remember?” Harry's mind cleared substantially and his thoughts sped up, thanks to Ron's stealthy shots of magic on him. 
“Damn it all!” Ron said out loud, obviously realizing the same things that Harry did as he stared at the black blob on the floor near the trio.

The grey-suited man sighed dramatically. “You two chose the wrong pool to vandalize. And it seems like you two are sobering up. We can't have that at all.”

There was a flicker of red from one of the upper levels of the area.

Mycroft's brother glanced at them for a second before he concentrated on the grey-suited man. The man who was crouched by the wall, on the other hand, looked directly at them with a horrified expression.

“So the one in the grey suit is the one we need to take care of?”

“Without magic,” Harry whispered in annoyance. 

Ron looked down at the red light spot dancing on his chest, even as he leaned forward slightly. “I hate working with guns.”

Harry twitched at Ron's movement, hating the way Ron had purposely shielded Harry from the red lights but decided to create a proper show. “Killing two police officers would be bad for you, don't you think?” Harry said as he deftly pulled a gun from the holster on his back, feeling a touch more secure at the various spells on it and aimed it at the grey-suited man.

The man laughed. “Oh, this night gets better and better. Two nameless police officers go out for a spot of vandalism to brighten up their dull lives chance upon our meeting. And now they think they can catch me. Isn't that just precious?”

Harry's mind, now well under the influence of the super-sensory charm, analysed everything around him searching for a way to resolve the stand-off they'd come across. 

“I am rather curious on how you simpletons decided I was the villain here,” the man smiled wide. “I'm not the one with the gun in his hand.”

Harry shrugged dramatically. “Your shiny suit reeks of evil.”

The man laughed. A condescending and not at all amused laugh that made Harry want to pull out his wand and hex the man, secrecy laws be damned. 

“And your laugh just confirmed it,” Ron said, even as his hands twitched.

“Lights out?” Harry glanced up every few seconds, noting all eight large light fixtures.

Ron winced but nodded. “Lights out.”

“Less than forty seconds of blind time to get those two out,” Harry said as he eyed the tense trio on the other side of the pool. 

“Cheat,” Ron said in exasperation, even as his hand twitched to reach for a weapon. “I'll deal with the snipes.”

“Snipers, Ron,” Harry said, amusement from Ron's words settling his nerves easily and making the situation feel slightly more workable. “Meet-up at Tam's.”

“Isn't that adorable, Sherlock? They really think they have a chance,” the grey-suited man giggled.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Harry tilted his gun upwards and shot. “We know we have a chance.”

As Harry shot out the lights, Mycroft's brother moved and tilted his own gun to the power box which had been to Harry's side, apparently understanding Harry's plan and improving on it.

Instead of just the pool area being blanketed in complete darkness, the power to the entire building fizzled out. 

Even before the darkness hit, Harry heard pained grunts from the upper levels, proof that Ron had hit the hidden snipers. How he managed that, even with a highly enchanted gun and the luck from the Felix potion, Harry couldn't quite believe. But using the homenum revelio spell, Harry took stock of the three men on the other side

Waiting ten seconds, Harry apparated to the other side of the pool glad that the gun-shots hid the pop of his apparition, and grabbed Mycroft's brother. “Holmes!” Harry whispered. “Do you have your friend?”

A slight grunt answered him under all the gun-shots.

“Good, let's go,” Harry said as he used multiple invisible spells to help them escape the area in the complete darkness. Something to distract grey-suit, another to muffle their footsteps, another something to make sure the door didn't creak as they left the pool area and a whole lot of stealth and map spells to help navigate out of the building without any hostile encounters.

“This isn't over, Sherlock,” A muffled voice yelled from somewhere far behind amidst the gunshots. “It will never be over.”

“Bit dramatic, isn't he?” Harry whispered back to the two people behind him.

“You have no idea,” one of them replied with an irritated scoff. “What about your friend?”

“He'll be fine,” Harry said and pulled them down winding corridors and out of a back door on to the streets. As he breathed in the cold London air, Harry glanced around for a few seconds before allowing the other two out of the building. “Come on, we've got to keep moving.”

Thankfully, both men behind him didn't argue. They followed him, all the while keeping a tense lookout as Harry pulled them down side-streets, through buildings and finally stopped inside a closed costume shop. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of vibrant red hair moving about in the store. “Ron! You made it.”

Ron snorted as he fiddled through a large first-aid box behind the store counter. “Of course, I made it. I got out before you lot.”

“You got shot? You moron!” Harry slapped the back of Ron's head as he grabbed some bandage, staring at Ron's blood coated right arm.

“It's a graze or two. That's why I bloody well hate guns,” Ron said and waved a pair of scissors in the air. “Always need stitches for bullet wounds. Barbaric things.”

The blonde man beside Mycroft's brother, cleared his throat and moved forward. “Why don't you let me look at that? I'm John Watson, a doctor.”

Harry blinked for a second before he passed the bandages to John. Then he narrowed his eyes at Ron. “You're lucky it wasn't worse.”

“Weren't we both lucky enough?” Ron says cheekily even as he winced at John's help. 

Harry slapped the back of Ron's head again for good measure. “Shut up. Hermione isn't going to let this go.”

Ron smiled a little too happily as he sighed. “She'll be utterly furious.”

“At least pretend to be normal.” Harry sighed in dismay.

“You're not part of the metropolitan police," Mycroft's brother said out loud, interrupting their conversation. "But you know me. You two work for Mycroft.”

“Like hell we do,” Ron said and winced as John stitched up one of his wounds. “Your brother is an arse. There's no way I'd work with him, let alone for him.”

“Ron!”

“What? You hated the bloke way before I ever did, Harry.”

“Yes, but he's the brother, we can't just...”

“My name is Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock said, “It's good to know that there are people who see Mycroft for what he really is. So, did he give you mugshots of me and tell you I needed to be dealt with or protected?”

“Don't be ridiculous, Sherlock. Mycroft wouldn't...” John glanced between Ron and Harry and twitched at their silence. “He did?”

Harry shrugged.

“He's probably done it for all the law enforcement agencies I don't work with directly,” Sherlock said as he glanced at Ron. “You two show training that's a mix of departments. And your guns aren't normal, either. Shooting at the lights shouldn't have disrupted the entire building's electricity.”

Harry snorted. “We're foreign relations and anti-terrorism. More foreign relation than anti-terrorism these days. And our weapons are experimental tech, not the sort of stuff you'd find on the street.”

“So who was that, then?” Ron said, “The bloke with the shiny suit?”

John looked between Harry and Ron as he finished bandaging Ron's arm. “Moriarty.”

“Never heard of him, but I guess he's never been our department's concern. Either way,” Harry rubbed his forehead in annoyance. “Ron, this is just more proof that the pool plan should never be brought up again.” 

“I've already cut it off from our list.” Ron grimaced as he held tapped the bandages on his arm. “Do you realize how much jell-o powder we lost tonight?”

John snorted. “So you were planning to vandalize the pool?”

“Could you just refer to it as a 'prank'?” Harry said with a wince.
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That's all for today. I'll see you in tomorrow's post,
Polar

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