"He moves so quickly, so silently, that he looks positively furtive like a hound casting about for a scent.
"It made me wonder if he turned all that energy and cleverness away from upholding the law and toward breaking it instead, what a fearsome criminal he'd make!"
"All right, Gemma, that's enough reading!"
Hermione cut Gemma off and snatched back the manuscript of The Sign of Four, still very much a work in progress, from her hands.
"Ooh, embarrassed, are we?"
Gemma didn't bother resisting—she let Hermione take the manuscript back but she couldn't resist teasing: "There was a time you were a lot bolder than this, when you were kissing Sherlock!"
"I—I just got carried away in the moment..."
"I know, I know. Can't help yourself."
Watching Hermione squirm, Gemma only wanted to tease her more.
"So? Did it feel different with Sherlock than with me?"
Of course it was different!
But that was something Hermione would never say out loud.
"What are you two talking about?"
Just then, Sherlock came down from his bedroom upstairs.
Hermione shot Gemma a look at once, her eyes pleading.
Gemma caught her meaning instantly and smiled.
"We were talking about the new thing Hermione's been writing though I think it'll have to wait until after the war to publish, since the story of The Sign of Four would give away the Marauder's Map."
"It's only a draft. Even after the war's over, I'm not going to make the Marauder's Map public."
Hearing that Gemma hadn't mentioned what they'd actually just been discussing, Hermione let out a quiet breath of relief.
Afraid there might still be some slip further on, she hurried to change the subject: "I'm going to rewrite The Sign of Four so it's about four good friends leaving a note to each other on a piece of paper back in school.
"The gist of it will be a pact to fight evil and stand together in the future!
"I'll cut out everything about the Marauder's Map."
Hearing this, Sherlock who had just sat down beside the two girls shook his head.
"It was the Marauder's Map that first showed me Peter Pettigrew's name, and that's how I confirmed Scabbers's true identity.
"And later, during the Triwizard Tournament, it was seeing Barty Crouch's name on it that let me expose his scheme to impersonate Moody.
"Take away the Marauder's Map as a key device, and the story's logic falls apart."
"It won't—"
Hermione shook her head, smiling.
"You've been gone the better part of a year. You have no idea how far people's worship of you has gone by now.
"Even without the Marauder's Map, if you just went out, walked around for a bit, came back, and pointed at someone and said 'he's the culprit'—people would believe it without question."
Gemma chimed in, sighing deeply. "If you ask me, the biggest effect of cutting the Marauder's Map from The Sign of Four is that it makes Peter Pettigrew's already terrible reputation even worse..."
"So, what if it does?" Hermione lifted her chin. "He's a rotten traitor to begin with! If it weren't for him, Harry's parents would never have died!"
At that, Gemma said nothing more.
It was true, on that point alone, Pettigrew was worse than Voldemort or Snape.
Voldemort had always been their enemy. Snape had been too, at first—he'd simply turned back to the right side later.
But Peter Pettigrew—he had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix. A member of their own side!
Betrayal was a thoroughly shameful thing. And yet Sherlock himself didn't seem to think much of it at all.
He looked at the two women, a little puzzled, and asked: "If I decide something isn't a problem, does everyone really just accept that it isn't a problem?"
Hermione answered without a moment's hesitation. "Of course!"
"Even if you told me right now that I was a Death Eater, I'd believe you."
Gemma added, teasing him further.
"Well then, if that's true, why is Harry still angry at me? I already apologized!"
At that, Hermione and Gemma exchanged a glance.
So, Sherlock had already met with Harry before coming to find them.
There was a note of regret in that thought, though it wasn't unbearable.
But what really caught the two women's attention was the scent they'd both just picked up.
There was gossip here!
"Tell us—what happened between you and Harry?"
Gemma immediately mimicked Sherlock's own pose, propping her chin on both hands, eyes gleaming as she stared at him.
Hermione added, "And don't leave anything out."
Sherlock nodded, and told them how he'd gone to see Harry the day before and ended up getting punched for it.
"I only wanted to surprise him. Why did it turn out like this?"
"Hiss—"
Hermione and Gemma both sucked in a breath at the same moment.
They exchanged another glance, and in each other's eyes saw the same awkward, helpless look.
At last, it was Gemma who cleared her throat and said, "Sherlock, do you honestly still not understand why Harry's angry?"
"Of course I understand. He already told me—I should have gotten word to him sometime during all that, to let him know I was still alive."
Sherlock shrugged, spreading his hands.
"But like I already told him, there were several times I nearly reached out to him, and each time I held back—because I was afraid he might let the secret slip—"
"That's exactly the problem, Sherlock," Gemma explained patiently. "To Harry, that means you didn't trust him and, in his eyes, he's your best friend."
"Exactly. You told so many other people, including twenty-five house-elves."
Hermione was struggling hard not to laugh. "But somehow the one person you didn't tell was him. Of course he's angry."
"This isn't a matter of trust," Sherlock still didn't seem to understand. "Just like Dumbledore said—Harry can trust Hagrid with his life, but not with a secret."
"But Harry isn't Hagrid." Hermione kept fighting back her laughter.
"I know. But Harry talks in his sleep."
Gemma: "......."
Hermione couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.
"And besides, I already apologized. Why is he still like this?"
"Pfft—"
This time even Gemma couldn't help herself, and laughed along with Hermione.
The two girls clung to each other, laughing until tears came, before they finally managed to speak again:
"Sherlock, apologizing doesn't mean you're automatically forgiven!
"And another thing—you told so many people, even twenty-five house-elves, and the one person you left out was Harry. Of course he's furious!
"Thank goodness you didn't mention that I already knew too, or he'd be even angrier!
"Still, he must be happy, deep down, that you came back from the dead.
"Cho will help talk him round too. Give it some time and it'll be fine."
Between the two of them, back and forth, they quickly laid the whole matter out plainly for Sherlock.
Sherlock: "..."
After seeing Hermione and Gemma, Sherlock went on to quietly meet with several other people, one by one.
Once they learned that Sherlock had finally returned, like a king come back to his throne, the core members of the Justice League all let out a breath of relief.
Sherlock had chosen to fake his death in the first place because Voldemort and Moriarty had both been at the height of their power.
He'd done it to lie low for a while and, at the same time, to lull his enemies into complacency.
So now that Sherlock had chosen this moment to come back—didn't that mean the horn was about to sound for the counterattack?
As it turned out, that was exactly the case.
"So—you want Mr. Sung to hold off on separating that fragment of soul inside Harry's body for now?"
Hearing Sherlock's words, Dumbledore frowned.
"Yes," Sherlock said. "By our earlier reasoning, the moment that fragment is separated, Harry will lose any connection to Voldemort and that connection is exactly what I need right now."
"Well, since you've said as much yourself—isn't it about time you told Harry?"
"What? You mean you haven't told him yet?"
"Ah—weren't you the one who told me to keep it from him for the time being?"
"I said 'for the time being.' It's been this long already—are you still calling it 'the time being'?"
Dumbledore: "..."
Sherlock: "..."
The two of them stared at each other, and in the end burst out laughing together.
"Fine, in that case, I'll be the one to tell him. Though—"
Dumbledore's smile didn't fade, and there was a teasing look in his eyes. "I hear your reunion with Harry didn't go very smoothly?"
"That was my fault."
Sherlock didn't try to dodge it.
"I still don't understand human nature—people—well enough."
"Never mind that. You're only eighteen this year," Dumbledore said musingly. "As a wizard, you still have a long, long life ahead of you, and plenty of time left to learn. Not like me..."
Watching Dumbledore shake his head, over and over, Sherlock knew he was thinking of his sister, Ariana, again.
"So—have you two worked things out, then?"
"Who?"
"Oh, come now, you know exactly who I mean. What does your old friend have to say?"
"Sherlock, if you were this sharp about everything else, Harry wouldn't have had cause to punch you."
Sherlock looked at Dumbledore. Well, well—so this was a game of who could land the sharper jab, was it?
The two of them traded another look, and in the end, it was Dumbledore who spoke first.
"Things stand exactly as you predicted. I do think the time has come for us to strike back."
"Good," Sherlock said, as though nothing at all had happened moments before. "Talk to Harry first. Once he's ready, we can move."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you tell him yourself?"
"He hasn't come to find me," Sherlock said, looking somewhat awkward. "He knows perfectly well where I am. And still he hasn't come."
Dumbledore understood at once.
He fought down a smile and said, "All right. I'll talk to Harry."
"As for Snape—"
"No need to reach out to him deliberately. And don't tell him I'm back."
"You don't trust him?"
"I trust Moriarty's cleverness more. Besides, there's no benefit to us right now in letting him know I've returned."
"Just as well."
Dumbledore turned his head away as he spoke, his pale blue eyes gazing out through his half-moon spectacles toward the window.
Sherlock understood exactly what that meant.
It was time for the Greatest Wizard of the age, supreme above all, to return to his Hogwarts.
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