[Discontinued] When Shadows Collide, The Game Begins

Chapter Nineteen

It was a long time before John and Sherlock came back. Ten hours, to be precise. Harry spent each and every one of them pacing in the living room, stopping only to brew a cup of coffee whenever he felt even a little tired. While it was not unusual for a case to take this long, there had never been magic involved before.

By the time the front door opened, the sun had risen and Harry was shaking. John and Sherlock both apologised for taking so long, promising to tell their son what had happened once they had slept. Harry agreed and waited on the sofa, too jittery to sleep, but too tired to do anything.

He sat there for several hours before any of his friends woke.

Draco came into the room first, already fully dressed, but without his hair slicked back. It was the first time Harry had seen him without copious amounts of gel in his hair. Harry reckoned he looked a lot better without it. Draco looked at himself in the mirror above the fireplace and sighed.

"If I keep this up, I'll look like you by the time Christmas is over," he said in disdain.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Harry through a yawn. He stood up and rinsed out his coffee cup.

"You look like you've been through hell and back," said Draco. Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned again.

"You would too if you'd stayed up all night," said Harry, wishing he'd slept.

A few minutes later, Hermione came into the living room, joined moments later by Fred and George. Neither of the twins looked particularly well-rested, but they both looked quite happy.

"Do you wanna head into London for presents and such?" asked Hermione.

"Alright, but my dads are gonna be asleep for the rest of the day, so we'll have to go alone," said Harry as he picked up his wallet. Mycroft had been giving him over a hundred pounds every month since he'd been adopted, but hadn't given him access until only a few months before. He also grabbed his bag full of wizarding money in case they went to Diagon Alley.

Just before the five of them left, Harry scribbled a quick note explaining where they were going and stuck it to the fridge. Then they left and walked onto the busy street. Harry kept an eye out for a taxi, and, upon spotting one, stuck his hand out over the road. There was a bang and a massive, purple, three story bus appeared in front of them. KNIGHT BUS was emblazoned on the side. Harry took a step back in shock and tripped on a loose brick.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this morning." A young man with a pimply face and a purple uniform was leaning out of the back of the bus.

"Hiya, Stan," said Fred, holding out a hand.

"Five to central London, please," said George, also offering his hand. Stan shook them both awkwardly before announcing the price and, after Harry paid, welcomed them on board.

The interior was unlike any bus Harry had seen before. Instead of a few dozen matching seats, firmly attached to the floor, there were dozens of mismatched chairs scattered around. A few of them had fallen over, a couple contained a witch or wizard, and several were lying on the floor next to their previous occupants. Harry decided against sitting and instead braced himself against the wall as the bus took off.

A few loud bangs and a lot of falling over later, the five students had reached their destination. They clambered out of the bus as fast as they could, all of them relieved to be on stable ground again.

"Next time, we're taking a taxi," said Hermione as they walked towards a mall.

"We're shopping with muggles?" said Draco in disgust.