"What did you say?"
Hearing Harry's challenge, Sherlock looked at his friend in bewilderment.
"Right now, I don't want to know how you did all this—"
Harry's green eyes bored into Sherlock. "What I want to know is why. Why, not how. Understand?"
"Why?"
Hearing Harry's question, it was Sherlock's turn to be baffled. He gave Harry a look that said isn't it obvious?: "Because I had to stop Moriarty."
Harry: "…"
Cho: "…"
Mrs. Chang: "…"
Under the stare of three pairs of eyes, Sherlock finally caught on.
"Er… when you say 'why,' you mean…"
Harry looked at him and nodded.
"I see."
A look of understanding appeared on Sherlock's face.
"So… why. Well… that is, it's actually rather complicated to explain—"
Harry cut off his resurrected friend without a shred of politeness: "That's fine. I've got nothing else on tonight."
Sherlock: "…"
He drew a deep breath. He understood that today, he would not get out of this without explaining everything.
"It was all Mycroft's idea."
Harry was not himself today. Whatever happened, Sherlock would pass the blame along first and deal with the rest later.
"You mean… your brother arranged all of it?"
Harry's expression didn't change as he asked, and nothing suggested Sherlock's words had softened his attitude in the least.
"Exactly. You did need a Secret-Keeper."
Mrs. Chang nodded and chimed in at this point.
Harry and Cho turned to look at her together.
Mrs. Chang: "Sorry."
Harry drew a deep breath. "So, he's the only one who knew? Or… is… there… anyone… else?"
His green eyes didn't blink as he stared at Sherlock and asked it word by word.
Even Sherlock had no inkling of what was about to happen. He answered honestly, as ever:
"A few more people. The plan was meticulous, and it had to be done that way—oh, right, of the seven scenarios I just described—"
"Who else?"
Once again Harry cut Sherlock off without ceremony.
"What?"
"I said… who else knew?" Harry snapped.
Sherlock: "Hermione."
"Hermione?!"
Harry gave a cold laugh. No wonder Hermione's reaction to the news of Sherlock's death had seemed staged to him at the time.
It really had been an act!
"Harry, don't be like this…"
Cho, beside him, was seeing Harry this angry for the first time, and she spoke with some worry.
"Right. Hermione Granger, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, and a few house-elves. That's all."
"Good."
"Very good."
"Very good!"
Harry spoke in a low voice:
"Your brother, Hermione, Dumbledore, Snape, and over a hundred house-elves. Is that right?"
"Of course not—" Sherlock laughed. "Twenty-five at most."
Bang!
The words weren't even out of his mouth before Harry lunged at him again.
"Harry, don't—"
Cho panicked and rushed over to pull him back.
"Ooh~"
This time, Mrs. Chang didn't join Cho in trying to help as she had before. Instead, she let out a rather gleeful whistle.
Five minutes later.
The four of them sat down again.
Cho looked anxiously at her boyfriend. "Harry, please, don't be angry anymore—"
"Fine. I won't be angry."
Harry drew a deep breath and turned to Sherlock, holding down his fury:
"Almost a year, Sherlock. A year!
Do you know how I got through this year?
You could have sent word, Sherlock—a single message would have been enough! Just so I'd know you were alive!"
His voice climbed higher with every sentence, until at last he couldn't help roaring.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I actually wanted to contact you several times, but…"
"But what?"
"I was worried you'd let it slip by accident."
"What did you say?" Harry's eyes went wide.
Sherlock: "I meant, give away the secret."
"So this is my fault now?" Harry raged. "Who do you take me for—Hagrid, raised on Veritaserum?"
"Pfft~"
This time neither Cho nor Mrs. Chang could hold it in, and both burst out laughing.
"Why am I the only one who thinks this is wrong? Why am I the only one reacting like a normal person?"
"My dear friend, this is what we call an overreaction—"
"An overreaction?" Harry wanted nothing more than to punch Sherlock again. "You call this an overreaction?"
"Harry—"
Cho tried once more to calm him, but Harry was now like a roaring lion, or a Maxim machine gun, firing off words at breakneck speed.
"You faked your death, and then you just came back to life like it was nothing!
"And I'm not supposed to think there's anything wrong with that?
"Just because Sherlock Holmes decided there's nothing wrong with it?"
"That's enough, Harry!"
For the first time today, it was Sherlock who cut Harry off: "I don't want everyone to know I'm not dead!"
"Is this still a bloody secret?!"
Harry was stunned on the spot, and he even let a curse slip.
"Yes, it's still a secret. You have to promise not to tell anyone. After all, you talk in your sleep—"
"I will never tell!"
After he'd roared it out, Harry realized he was making a scene, and he stood there wheezing and panting.
"Danger is coming, Harry," Sherlock said, looking at him, and spoke word by word. "I've found the key clue. I need your help."
Harry was thrown by Sherlock's manner. He looked at Sherlock, then turned to Cho:
"My help?"
"Admit it, Harry. You miss this feeling."
Once again, Sherlock had no idea what was coming. Suddenly he broke into a smirk of devilish, reckless charm.
"The thrill of chasing adventure, the blood pounding through your veins—only this time, we'll join forces against an entire—"
Thud!
Another five minutes later.
"I truly don't understand."
Sherlock was having Mrs. Chang use magic to treat the wounds Harry had dealt him today, and he spoke with a puzzled look.
"I've already apologized. What more does he want?"
"Half a year and more has gone by, and you're still this clueless about people…"
Listening to Sherlock's remark, as guileless as a three year old child, Mrs. Chang couldn't help shaking her head in silence.
As she spoke, she turned to look at Cho, who was quietly comforting Harry, then looked away again.
"All right, they're only minor injuries—but I can tell Harry is really furious."
"I seem to have ruined a reunion that was supposed to be a happy one?"
"No… why would you think he'd be happy?"
Mrs. Chang stared at Sherlock in shock.
She had often heard her daughter describe Sherlock's various eccentricities.
But only now, seeing it with her own eyes, did she realize this man truly was out of the ordinary.
"Isn't one supposed to be glad when a friend turns out not to be dead?"
Sherlock said it in the most matter-of-fact tone imaginable.
"But you lied to him!" Mrs. Chang was flabbergasted. "Don't tell me you still don't know why Harry is angry!"
"Of course I know!" Sherlock tilted his head. "But I've already apologized, haven't I? Why would he still be angry?"
Mrs. Chang: "…"
At that moment, Cho's mother suddenly felt a little sorry for Harry.
"Never mind, let's not go into it. Cho and I will talk him round."
"Yes, that would be best, because what comes next really does require his help."
"Help?" Mrs. Chang frowned at this. "I thought you were joking just now…"
"If I were joking, I'd have said so beforehand."
"Well, then I'm afraid I owe you an apology. We came back from Asia this time for Harry's sake, and he'll probably have to—"
"Undergo treatment, right?"
Seeing Sherlock say it so calmly and composedly, Mrs. Chang was stunned once more:
"You know?"
"Yes, I know."
Sherlock spoke evenly. "That's why I came. So, before you deal with his physical condition, he has to do something for me first."
Hearing Sherlock say this, Mrs. Chang's face turned grave.
The next day.
128 King's Road.
Since the Holmeses had been moved elsewhere, this place had also become a gathering point for Order of the Phoenix members, much like 12 Grimmauld Place. But far fewer people came here than to Grimmauld Place—only Hermione, Gemma, and a handful of others.
It lay in a Muggle residential area, and with protective charms cast on it, it was safe enough.
Hermione was discussing the recent situation with Gemma, and the two of them were deep in heated debate.
"Sorry, I'm going downstairs for a moment."
Gemma smiled and nodded.
Hermione left the bedroom and went down to the living room.
When she came out of the bathroom, she glanced idly at the mirror beside her.
Then she froze.
"It's been a long while."
Sherlock, who had returned to his own home as effortlessly as ever, smiled at Hermione.
"Sherlock!"
Unlike the furious Harry, Hermione had known all along that Sherlock wasn't dead. Even so, the moment she saw him, she was so overcome that she forgot everything. She let out a cry and threw herself straight into his arms.
That wasn't enough.
Only when she found that her arms could truly wrap tightly around Sherlock did it sink in.
It was real. It wasn't a dream!
So, without a word, she wriggled out of Sherlock's embrace again and, just as she had when he left, rose straight onto her tiptoes, cupped his face in both hands, and pressed a kiss to it.
By now Gemma had heard the commotion in the living room. She hurried out of the bedroom and caught the scene just in time.
Gemma: Σ(°△°|||)
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