That Which is Buried (Sherlock/Harry Potter Xover)

7. Case Solved

John followed Sherlock into their room and hoped they weren't treading too much soot into the carpet. There had indeed been a vault behind the fireplace full of more gold and silver than John had ever seen even when he visited the crown jewels with a school trip that one time. It had taken them several hours to get the vault open, having found a complex lock, completely non-magical, which was why no one had ever found it, that Sherlock had relished picking. They were both covered in soot, because they had been literally in the chimney.

"Merlin's beard, we must have been more loaded back then than we are now!" had been Draco's reaction when he had come to find them.

They were supposed to be cleaning up for supper, but as John watched Sherlock walk across the room, he made a decision. The confidence was back in his friend's stride and he could see the joy of deduction in Sherlock's every move. It was not quite the same as it had been before, but it was there and that made it time. He reached into his shirt and pulled Sherlock's wand from its hiding place.

"Sherlock," he said, walking up behind the other man.

Something must have alerted Sherlock to what he intended, either the tone of his voice, or the change in atmosphere, or possibly Sherlock had just seen him in a reflective surface, but there was tension in Sherlock's body almost instantly.

"I don't want it," Sherlock said without turning.

"You need it," John replied, totally sure of his position on this. "You are a wizard, Sherlock, you need your wand. You don't have to use it for anything big, just make sure your magic doesn't decide to burst out again. I'm not channelling it a second time, because heaven knows what I'd end up then and I'm not retraining to be a wizard at my age."

That at least made Sherlock turn round and what was even more remarkable was that John could see guilt in Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock did not do guilt, but it seemed he was for what he had done to John, not that John thought he needed to.

"You've been missing a part of yourself," he said gently, seeing the fear hidden behind the blank stare Sherlock was giving him, "and you need to take it back. Now I don't expect you to be any different from your normal high functioning sociopath you, but I do expect you to clean the kitchen when you make a mess of it, because now you can do it with a quick couple of spells."

He gave Sherlock a smile, trying to make the situation seemed lighter than it was, and held out the wand. For a little while they were stuck like that, a tableau with him holding the wand by its tip and Sherlock just looking at it, but eventually Sherlock slowly reached out. The long fingered hand that was usually playing the violin or pick pocketing Lestrade was actually shaking, so John just held very still. When Sherlock finally took hold of the wand John felt a thrill run through him, a bit like an electric shock and he let go, leaving Sherlock holding it by himself.

Once again it was like a tableau; Sherlock stood there stock still, eyes on the magical tool. It was as if he was assimilating it and John almost jumped out of his skin when Sherlock suddenly moved, pointed the wand at a cupboard and said something that John was pretty sure was not Alohorama, but was pretty close. The cupboard door popped open and Sherlock just stared at it, then the wand, then the door again for a while. Eventually Sherlock finally turned back to John.

"Thank you," Sherlock said simply and John smiled.

Sherlock had a long way to go to deal with the trauma he had suffered, but John could not help but be pleased at such a significant step.

"You're welcome," he said, genuinely happy, "just, please, please, don't use it to cause even more havoc."

That comment even earned him a small smile from Sherlock.