PotterLock Down (A Crossover Fanfiction)

Chapter 7: Welcome To Hogwarts

Hermione returned that evening to the inn where Sherlock and John would spend the night. She handed over two badges in slim leather wallets.

"They're just general Ministry medals, because technically there isn't really a Department of Divination, but it's near enough to Magical Law Enforcement that it should pass."

Harry glanced toward the door. "Where's Ron?"

In answer to his question, a cloud of purple-green smoke billowed out of the chimney, and a ginger-colored head materialized through the smog. Ron appeared, coughing madly and brushing a powdery substance from his jersey. "Sorry I'm late," he said, brushing his hair from his eyes. "I might have been pegged by a couple Inquisitors, so I had to dodge them before I could make a proper exit."

"Down the chimney?" John spluttered, none too happy with the foreign substance now scattered over the surface of his tea.

Ron gave him a queer glance. "No, that's the Floo-oh!" He glanced over his shoulder as if realizing for the first time that the Floo Network of the Wizarding World used an entrance remarkably like the fireplace that usually stood at the indoor portion of a chimney. "Well, yes, ordinarily it's a chimney, but with the Floo Powder, see-"

"Explain later," Sherlock cut in, "I don't want to waste another day. Have you got the papers?"

Ron hesitated, sighed, and laid a single sheaf upon the table. "I could only get one copy, I'm sorry. Looks like one of you will be staying out here."

Sherlock smiled benignly. "Yes, I know. Miss Granger and myself will be the ones to enter Hogwarts, while you will stay out here and help John keep watch over Harry."

"What?" No one, least of all John, was expecting this arrangement in the least.

Sherlock spoke casually, as if he and his associate had discussed it all over lunch. "Of course we can't all go back. Harry is as good as expelled, and leaving him here with only, as you term it, a Muggle would be like setting up a tin soldier to watch a baby."

Neither Harry nor John appreciated this metaphor, but Sherlock remained oblivious as he plunged ahead.

"I must go in and observe the crime scene. Harry is not protected unless by another wizard; who else but the young Master Weasley, whom I dare say would far rather be tasked with protecting Harry Potter than become the sole target of his chief tormentor, one Draco Malfoy?"

The name produced the desired effect. Ron glanced at Harry and nodded.

"Besides," said Sherlock, standing up, "in case anything happens, I think it would be good to have a wizard I can trust to look after Harry on the outside. Is everything settled, then? Very good; we shall be off just after breakfast."

The quintet spent the night at the inn, and after a light breakfast, Holmes and Hermione departed.
They took a cab out to the edge of a deep wood.

"Here is close enough," Hermione murmured.

"Are there no roads to Hogwarts," Sherlock inquired, "or simply none that Muggles may use?"

Hermione sighed and adjusted her shoulder bag. "This treeline," she said, tracing it with her finger, "is the magic boundary at the very edges of Hogwarts' legal grounds. It's our policy not to let Muggles past here because they wouldn't understand."

Sherlock felt her eyes keenly upon him as they crossed into the forest. "What?" he asked.

She quickly turned her gaze back to the narrow, winding path they followed. "I... I don't know," she said softly. "I guess I always thought that any Muggle who crossed the barrier would meet some terrible fate—but nothing's happening to you."

"Of course it isn't," Sherlock muttered, plunging ahead. "It's probably just a myth they tell all the students to keep them from inviting all their Muggle friends to the holiday parties." He made it a few more paces and froze.

Hermione walked up and stopped just behind him, waiting.

"Miss Granger," Sherlock whispered, "Can you tell me what sort of creatures those are?"

Hermione peered into the mist. A carriage approached, drawn by the invisible thestrals and meant to carry them into Hogwarts. "It's just a carriage," she told him. "That's our ride into the school."

"Yes, I can see the carriage," Sherlock kept his voice level, but he strained to do so-if John were present, he would know just how astonished Sherlock felt in that moment. "I'm talking about the animal pulling the carriage; can't you see it?"

Hermione shook her head as the carriage approached and climbed aboard. "It's probably a trick of the light," she said. "No one can actually see thestrals; they're said to be visible only to those who-" Abruptly, she stopped speaking, clapped her mouth shut, stared at the man sitting across from her for one long moment, and then turned away.

Sherlock watched in the dying light of sunset as Hogwarts rose into view. The impossible turrets, the wide walls-he wondered to himself how the architecture of such a building could remain intact for an entire millennium. The carriage pulled to a halt and Hermione stepped out.

She took a deep breath. "Here goes," she said to the detective with a hopeful grin.

Already, Professors Snape, Dumbledore, and McGonagall stood at the door, waiting to receive him.

Hermione mumbled softly as Sherlock reached into his coat for the enchanted badge she had given him. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Inspector Holmes." She turned to head for the girls' dorm, but paused.

"Oh, just one more thing," she whispered hastily in his ear.

"What's that?"

"Look out for Peeves."

With that, Hermione dashed away.

"What news do you bring?"

"There's an Inspector just arrived from London."

"Muggle?"

"Do you really think he'd be here if he was? It's unclear; there are rumors that he might be from the Ministry-Divination Department or somesuch-but we haven't heard anything to confirm or deny it."

"How is the... Consultant?"

"Him? There's no telling. He seemed to know the Inspector; got really excited when they pulled into the courtyard. I don't know why; something tells me this situation is about to get very interesting."

"Just as long as His Lordship gets what was promised. You sure the Consultant isn't a Mudblood or anything like that?"

"He could very well be using some kind of charm, the way he gets around the school unnoticed. But no, he just blends in as cool as you please, no magic at all."

"And the mayhem he wanted?"

"The boy better not get within sight of Hogwarts if he doesn't want to start a riot. His two friends started out grilling the other students but the Consultant had done his work well enough that nobody in that whole school had a clue. Somehow he's got everyone believing him, when they don't even know he's the one who told them."

"Excellent; the longer he can remain incognito, the more effective he can be. Are you in communication with him?"

"Well..."

"What are you hedging about? Just answer the question: are you or aren't you?"

"He relies on me for small favors from time to time."

"That will do; I want you to pass on a message from His Lordship: 'It is done. Summon the Darkness.'"

"What the blazes is that supposed to mean?"

"Demmed if I know; just see that he gets it, all right?"

"I'll do my best."