When They Meet

Chapter Eleven-How It Started and How It Ended

Hermione's POV-
The strange man who seemed to close to Voldemort ranted at him and when he was done Voldemort looked at him and it looked as if he wanted to cry. "You! It was your fault! You pretend to care when the truth was is you didn't even know what caring was. We were friends and you betrayed me! I learned then that mud-bloods couldn't be trusted. My friends started this to rid the world of all you abominations!"
"It's not my fault that I was cursed! I physically couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't my fault. This is on you. It's funny cause everyone here thought you hated mud-bloods so much because of your father but that's not true, you grew up in a orphanage with a bunch of muggle kids with daddy problems. All our childhood friends were muffles. So that wasn't it. You didn't start the muggle hating campaign until fifth year the year you found out I didn't have feelings. The year you killed that girl, everything went downhill from there!"
"Wait so your telling me this war was because you got mad at your best friend?!" Molly Weasley screamed walking out the crowd. "Really?"
Voldemort ignored her and walked up to the man. He hugged the man and whispered something. The man then said, "I'm so sorry Tom." Then there was a sound like a gun shot and Voldemort gasped in surprise and pain. He fell against the man and the man eased them both to where he was sitting on the ground and Voldemort was laying partially in his lap.
"John?"
"Yes, Tom?"
"I'm sorry, forgive me?"
"Of course, just tell your men... And women to stand down."
"Of course. All of you stand down!" All of the deatheaters listened and the man who is apparently named John smiled down at Voldemort. What looked like an electric shock went threw him and suddenly someone else was in John's lap. It was a young boy about the age of sixteen. Harry, Ginny and all the older people gasped. Voldemort looked up at John one more time and smiled, "Love you." He then closed his eyes and stopped breathing. John layer him down gently and stood up. Sherlock was looking at him in shock. When John stood up we all saw the gun with blood all over it in his hand. He had been wearing a black robe with a cardigan under it and that cardigan was covered in blood. Everyone turned to Harry who had been laying on the ground dead. We all nearly jumped out of our skin in shock to see him propped up on his elbows looking and John in shock. John walked over and held a hand out to Harry. Harry looked up at him and took the hand. John pulled him up and started muttering a bunch of spells.
When he was done he looked at everyone, "No worries the boy is completely healthy."
"Who are you?" One of the deatheaters asked.
"That's a very good question but first, duratus multis," All the deatheaters froze and it seemed they could not move, "My name is John Waston, wizard obviously, and ex member of the British Army."
Professor McGonagall did the whole immature cough thing, saying lair in between. She then proceeded to say, "John is the only natural born Animagus, he invented a lot of the spells that we use to keep this school safe, he was the only student ever to get perfect scores on every single test that Hogwarts has to offer. He was a bodyguard for the Queen of England but they though they were wasting him as a bodyguard, so they made him an assassin. There's much more but if I name it all, John might explode from embarrassment."
"Minerva, stop telling people that."
"I was not aware I had been living with an assassin John," said Sherlock.
John looked at him in shock and I turned to him, "Wait. Right now Voldemort is laying in the dirt dead from a gunshot wound and looking sixteen, this John we've all heard of was actually one of Voldemort's best friends, he lives with the man I that saved my life when I was ten. Mind blown."
"What're you doing here Sherlock?" John asked.
"Helping end a war, why didn't you tell me? More importantly how did I not figure it out?"
"I don't know, I thought being who you are, you would've noticed how the tea made itself in the mornings. I thought you would have found me out very quickly. I also don't understand why you never noticed that I was faking a psychiatric limp. I mean seriously, limping when I'm not in danger, doesn't make sense. I was invited there but I fixed that a long time ago."
"How do you fake feelings so well?"
Sherlock asked.
"Practice, also I'm not that useless when it comes to observing people. I only pretended not to understand what you say to me so you wouldn't be suspicious."
Sherlock looked at him weirdly. "I guess I'm just going to have to re-get to know you."