[Discontinued] When Shadows Collide, The Game Begins

Chapter Eleven

Harry woke with sun streaming on his face. He had just had the most interesting dream. Then he felt the unfamiliar quilt and silk sheets. He put his glasses on and looked around. He was at Mycroft's home, but that didn't mean the events of his dream were true. They just happened to be set here. 

Harry yawned and got up, grabbing a dressing gown as he left the room. He felt like he was in a hotel, there was nothing personal or homely about Mycroft's house. It was strangely sterile even though there was nothing that wasn't a priceless artefact that was at least a hundred years old. 

The ornate rug in the landing was scratchy and kind of ugly. Harry wasn't a big fan of old-fashioned things like castles or oil paintings. He liked learning about them, but seeing them in real life was weird. They had been made by people long dead. It just made him uncomfortable. Especially the suits of armour. 

Harry walked down the large staircase and was surprised to see a large shape on one of the sofas. Harry realised it was Hagrid, the man from his 'dream'. Harry pinched his arm and winced. So, the night before hadn't been a dream. That meant magic was real, and Harry was a wizard. The boy almost yelled in delight but refrained from doing it in fear of waking Hagrid.

He strolled into the dining room with a giant smile plastered on his face. 

"Morning, Mycroft," he said cheerily to the eldest Holmes. Mycroft said nothing, not even bothering to look up from his newspaper. Harry walked up to the table and saw a large range of cereal boxes and a jug of milk. He made himself a bowl of coco-pops but felt too excited to eat. 

"Harry," said Mycroft, folding up his newspaper and coming up to the table, "Who's the man on my sofa?" he asked. 

"That's Hagrid. He's from my new school!" Harry began to explain everything he knew about Hogwarts and magic, and everything he picked up from the way Hagrid looked and acted.

He went on for a long time, just thinking out loud.

"I'm gonna be a wizard!" he said after a long rant about the friends he could make. Mycroft smiled at the boy's excitement, a rare sight. 

"Well then, I think we should wake up Hagrid and give our guest some breakfast," Mycroft said, leading Harry into the sitting room where Hagrid was snoring. "Excuse me, sir," said Mycroft softly. The giant man stopped snoring and opened his eyes slightly. His face was filled with confusion, then his beetle-black eyes settled on Harry and smiled.

"Harry Potter. Nice to see you," he said, sitting up.

"It's Holmes," corrected Harry. "Harry Holmes." Once again, Hagrid looked confused, but he said nothing. Instead, he sat up and began rummaging around in his massive coat until he pulled out a packet of raw sausages.

"There's breakfast in the dining hall, if you would prefer," said Mycroft, wrinkling his nose at the sulphuric smell of pork. 

"Uh, okay then," said Hagrid, awkwardly shoving the sausages back into his coat. Mycroft didn't look overly happy at the unhygienic food handling but didn't comment. "I'll follow you."

*  *  *

Around an hour later, Hagrid, Sherlock, and John were standing in the foyer, arguing with Hagrid.

"I don't see why we can't come," said John angrily. "He's our son."

"You're muggles! I can't just bring yer to Diagon Alley! And he's not your son, he's James and Lily's son." Hagrid's reply was a step too far for John and Sherlock. There was a small smile on John's face, and he laughed slightly.

"We have the legal documents that disagree, Hagrid. And why would Harry's 'real' parents leave him with such awful people?" asked Sherlock. John took a slightly less logical approach and punched Hagrid in the gut with all his strength. It barely fazed the giant man, but John's kick between his legs certainly did.