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Crime is of the Essence	By : K8BNimble Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6594 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock nor do I make money from this. I just like playing with them. Harry Potter is owned by owned by JK Rowling, Scholastic and Warner Brothers & BBC’s Sherlock is owned by, well, the BBC

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!

Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.

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Crime is of the Essence

Chapter 6 – Investigations
Harry was starting to get weary. He’d been up all day doing tedious paperwork after the Memorial breakfast and it was almost 22:00. Or ‘10:00 pm for us normal people’ as Rose would insist when she was annoyed with Harry for using military time. The thrill of an actual investigation should have invigorated him, but the emotional trial of seeing not one but two men from his past as well as having nearly been kidnapped (and he could admit to himself that that was what had occurred) was getting to him.
Kingsley asked for a few minutes to talk to Draco before Harry joined them. Harry used the time to order some new clothes for Severus from Madam Malkins Online. He was sure the man would like to have some things of his own and the ready-to-wear line could be delivered the next day.
Now that the magical world had figured out how to protect Muggle electronics from their magic, they had quickly caught up to Muggles in some areas. Harry appreciated he could now shop for his magical accessories without ever stepping foot in Diagon Alley. That was part of what seemed so odd about an irregular Wizarding shop. They had to be selling illicit dark artifacts because most legitimate products could be bought online.
After he finished his order, he went to the Wizarding Morgue where Draco and Kingsley were waiting.
“Hey, Scarhead,” Draco greeted him. He was as snippy as usual, but he was a surprisingly good Auror.
“Ferret,” Harry answered back, non-committally. They weren’t friends by any means, but they were co-workers and got along generally well. The name-calling was more affectionate than insulting anymore. At least if they did it to each other, no one else would as it wouldn’t have the same impact.
“Any problems?” Harry asked.
“Other than removing a dead body from under the noses of Muggles and erasing all their records?” Draco asked in a slightly snide tone.
“Yes, other than that,” Harry answered, equally sarcastic.
“No. It went smooth as a baby crup’s…”
“Draco," Kingsley interrupted. “Do you recognize him? Or you, Harry?” Kingsley indicated the man on the table. “It looks as if he had a Dark Mark but attempted to have it removed.” He pointed to the obvious scar tissue that showed just beneath the sleeve.
Draco shook his head. Harry squinted to look closer. He went through all the Death Eaters they still hadn’t caught but, even imagining them twenty years older, he couldn’t place the face.
“Sorry. He doesn’t look familiar.” Harry said.
“There were far more Death Eaters than any of us knew about. As I’ve mentioned previously, my father told me that Voldemort kept pockets of them secreted from each other. That way if anyone was captured, they’d only be able to give away their fellow cell members,” Draco reminded them.
“Okay. I expected that,” Kingsley replied. “I’m disappointed, of course. I had hoped we had already routed out most of the cells.”
“Maybe he’s just a rogue? Perhaps his cell has already been discovered?” Harry asked.
Kingsley shook his head. “No. I would have recognized him then. I’ve had access to all the Pensieve memories of the captured Death Eaters and this man didn’t appear in any of their memories. Ah well, the coroner’s on his way. Maybe he’ll be able to give us more information. We’ll get his report in the morning.”
“Right,” Harry answered. He hated that Death Eaters still seemed to appear once in a while. It wasn’t anything like the first few years after the war, but why did they continue after so much time had passed? He sincerely hoped they weren’t working on yet another method of bringing Voldemort back. He didn’t want to contemplate the possibility, so he focused on the tangible. “Did you find a bottle like the other Kingsley described?” he asked.
“I Accio’d it from his robes.” Kingsley’s held up a small vial that was filled with short black hair that could easily have been Harry’s. It could have also belonged to Viktor Krum for that matter.
“I’ll have them analyze it. If it is yours, we’ll date match it. It might take a couple of days to get the results. The labs are still behind from the Flemington case,” Kingsley said.
“You’re sure your barber uses Evanesco on your clippings, right?” Draco asked Harry.
“I only use the Ministry barber per regulations, Draco.” Harry answered. He knew they had to ask but he’d never let anyone else cut his hair.
“Alright then. I sent some other Aurors to lock down the scene, but the shop is back to its usual dilapidated status and is unoccupied so the culprits have already cleaned up after themselves. Go home. Get some sleep.” Kingsley ordered.
Harry wondered if the shop had been gone before Sherlock had gotten there or, the little niggling voice in the back of his head wondered, if he was the one that got rid of it. He shook his head. Paranoia was setting in. Sherlock may be immune to most charms and spells, but he was no Wizard.
Draco left. Kingsley held Harry back. “I’m not happy about letting Snape stay with you, but I’m letting it go for now. We’ll need to tell the team eventually but I want to talk to him first. I’ll come to your place at 9:45 exactly. Any earlier or later, it won’t be me. Got it?”
Harry nodded. “Guess I don’t need to be in at 8:00, sir?” he asked with a smile.
“I think your morning will be full enough. Not to mention your evening.”

* * * * *

Tired as he was, Harry managed to stop at a 24-hour Wizarding market on the way home. In a speedy fifteen minute spin, he picked up the basics: eggs, milk and bread along with assorted snacks and drinks. Much to his disgust, he also picked up some pre-made meals even though he really did prefer his own cooking. He also picked up some toiletries for his houseguest: toothbrush, deodorant, comb and other sundry items.
Red-eyed, he checked out with a nod to the clerk who seemed thrilled that the famous Harry Potter was in her store. She must be new. He patiently agreed to sign an autograph and hoped his penchant for Milkybars and HobNobs weren’t plastered in Witch Weekly. He was sure he saw her Flittering as he walked out the door. Having much of his life shared with the public against his wishes, he didn’t understand the need for the general population to post their everyday activities on the Wizarding Web. Really, why would anyone care that 'Uncle Jerriendo just drank some coffee' or 'Cousin Helga ran b4 work again'?
It also reminded him of the other reason most of his cases were out of the country now. It was hard to do undercover work when everyone recognized you. It was usually why he stopped at Muggle markets, but wearing his Auror Robes in one was not a good idea and he was too tired to transfigure them. The risk of accidentally transfiguring them into a red dress was pretty high.
He walked into his place and everything seemed quiet. He managed to set the bags on the table and started putting things away. Severus stepped into the kitchen.
“Do you need assistance?” His deep voice startled Harry.
“Uh, sure. If you want to put the refrigerated things away, that would be great.” Harry was surprised at the offer. He noticed that Severus had dressed in the clothes Harry had left for him. He was in dark blue jeans and a maroon jumper. The color looked nice on him. It gave his sallow coloring a bit of warmth. He had wondered if the man would wear them, but other than jeans and sweats, Harry didn’t keep much else on hand other than very formal clothing. Oddly, Harry noticed Severus’ feet were bare. They were quite long and narrow. He wondered why he hadn’t put the socks on.
Severus began to help him unbag the groceries. He was meticulously separating the frozen items from the refrigerated items from the shelf items in three neat piles. They were silent for a few minutes. Severus picked up one of the ready-made meals – Swedish Meatballs - and frowned.
Harry blushed before picking up a couple of tins of fruit. “Sorry. I’m not crazy about them either, but I wanted to be sure you had food since I’ll be busy with the case tomorrow. I usually prefer cooking from fresh ingredients but didn’t have the patience to shop for that tonight.”
Severus put the boxes away in the freezer. Harry could feel the man’s eyes on his back as he started stacking the tins in the cupboard.
“Why are you doing this?” Severus asked softly. Harry spun around to look at him but in his haste, his hand hit one of the tins and it started to wobble and fall out. Severus jumped forward and tried to catch it, but he was a bit too slow. The tin hit Harry on the head. “Ow!” Harry began rubbing his head. Severus bent down and picked the can off the floor. He reached over Harry’s head to put it back in the cupboard. Harry felt the heat off his body as Severus leaned over him. He couldn’t remember ever standing this close to the man before. It felt...odd. Harry could smell his own soap and shampoo on him. He looked up at Severus’ face. His hair seemed soft and framed his face in waves.
“Why are you helping me?” Severus looked down into Harry’s face as if seeking something. Harry shifted nervously. Severus moved Harry’s hand aside from his head and ran his fingers through his hair where the tin had hit him.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” Severus commented. He took a step back. “I’ve been reading about you. About us really. You were a war hero.”
“So were you,” Harry added.
“History doesn’t seem to view me quite so one-sided. I get the feeling I did some fairly nasty things during my time as a spy. The author doesn’t seem to believe it was all part of my mission.” Severus frowned.
“The author didn’t know you.” Harry had had this argument many times over the years as he fought for Snape’s posthumous exoneration.
“And you did, Harry?” Severus asked. “Did you know the entire time that I was on your side of the war?”
“Um…well…” Harry wasn’t sure how to answer that.
Severus nodded in understanding. “No. I know you didn’t. You couldn’t have. You were eleven when they brought you into this world and told you your mission. How anyone could do that to a child is beyond me. I’m sure I wouldn’t have been allowed to do anything but treat you like the enemy.”
“Well, yeah. You had to. I understand.”
“I can’t quite remember what I did, but I have the sense I didn’t treat you well and for that I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok, really.” Harry was moved by his gesture even if Severus didn’t understand exactly what he was apologizing for.
“And yet, you fought for me after I died. I was absolved of all crimes. Why would you do that? What did it matter since I was dead?”
“It was the right thing to do. It mattered to me,” Harry replied earnestly.
Severus turned away. “Would you like some tea?” Severus had shifted gears again. No matter. Harry was in no mood to have a heart to heart. He thought tea sounded lovely, but he wanted to shower first. It had been a long and exhausting day. He felt the need to wash it off. He took a surreptitious sniff and realized he smelled bad as well. Great. The man had to stand that close to him just then. Nice impression that must have left.
‘Why do I care what he thinks about the way I smell?’ he suddenly thought. ‘I must be exhausted. I’m going mental.’
“Yeah, it sounds good. I think I’ll go up and take a quick shower first,” Harry said.

* * * * *

The warm water flowing over Harry’s sore and stiff body felt wonderful. He knew he couldn’t linger for more than a few minutes before he should return to Severus.
Severus…what an odd way for him to think about the man. He’d never been so nice before. Harry was sure once his memories returned, he’d be back to his usual loathing of Harry, so he decided to enjoy the moments he got. Part of him missed the snarky wit, but at least it wasn’t aimed at him.
He got out and dried himself off. His hair was still wet and he was considering whether to dry it or not. He could hear some conversation downstairs so he wondered if Sherlock had come back. He decided to let his hair go so he could see what was happening. At this hour, he should just dress for bed. Normally he’d wear his boxers, but given his company, he thought he should at least put on some sweat pants.
He was bent over the middle drawer pulling them out when the door flew open. He jumped at the sound and spun around to see Sherlock walking into the room.
“…you can’t go in there….” Severus yelled and then suddenly went quiet. Harry froze. He was stark naked and Severus stood in the doorway gaping at him. The only thing that moved was the small Wizarding Snitch tattoo that buzzed angrily around Harry’s chest in reaction to his surprise and then flew over his shoulder and down his back. It was hovering just under his left buttock as if it wanted to hide.
Sherlock looked up from his phone, nonchalantly. “Harry, the store is gone, but I learned some really interesting things from the neighbors.”
“Sherlock – I’m getting dressed!” He quickly grabbed the sweatpants from the drawer and covered his groin.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before. Anyway…”
“Get out!”
“Don’t you want to…”
“Get out!” Harry shrieked, amazed his voice could get that high. He was waving one arm frantically as if to show Sherlock where the door was.
“All right, fine. I don’t see what you’re so upset about.” Sherlock turned and walked calmly by a still stunned Severus who had turned as red as his jumper.
Harry stared at Severus and tilted his head at him in expectation. Severus looked away and squeaked, “Tea’s ready,” and quickly shut the door.

* * * * *

After Harry pulled himself together with sweatpants and a “Flaming Phoenix” tee-shirt, he mustered up his dignity and went downstairs. Severus and Sherlock were in the living room on either end of the couch. Harry thought about taking the chair, but realized he’d probably need to see what Sherlock brought so he sat between them.
Severus handed him a cup and poured the tea for him. Harry watched Severus’ fingers as he handled the china so delicately. They didn’t seem all that much different than in his school boy days. As much as he'd hated potions, he had enjoyed watching Snape make them. Or rather his hands. There was an elegance to them. Severus handed the cup to Harry and Harry took it from, lightly brushing their hands together. Harry smiled at Severus to indicate his appreciation.
He then turned to Sherlock. “So what was so important that you had to barge in here in the middle of the night. You said the shop was gone. The Aurors had already discovered that. I was hoping you had made it there before that.”
“Obviously after I found it today, some Wizarding someone wanted it gone. And you were right – none of the Muggles even realized it had been there. What is interesting, though, is that some of them had noticed an unusual number of new people in the area during the last few days. A couple of them thought some kind of comic convention was in town since so many people were in costume.”
Severus leaned forward. “So the proprietors were smart enough to hide the building, but the customers weren’t smart enough to conceal themselves? That seems highly unintelligent.”
Harry nodded. “So whatever services were being provided catered to Wizards that aren’t known for their intelligence. It could be drugs or addictive potions for the black market. Dark artifacts tend to bring slightly more intelligent and cautious buyers.”
“That might explain why I was there,” Severus said.
Harry turned back to Severus. “You think you were selling illegal potions?”
“Perhaps I was making them.” Harry looked at him incredulously. Sherlock just looked contemplative.
“Harry, I have no memory of who I am or what I was doing. Given what I’ve learned about myself this evening, it is possible. I was one of the world’s best potion makers.”
“You were dead!”
“Obviously not. Who knows what I’ve been doing lately? Why haven’t I been seen in society for twenty years? I doubt I was supporting myself through legitimate means. You need to consider it.”
Harry argued back, “Well, as intriguing as that theory is, it could still have been a place to trade dark artifacts or other illegal commodities.”
“We should consider it,” Sherlock said. Harry glared at him. “Not that Snape did it, although that is a possibility that, as an Auror, Harry, you cannot overlook, but that it was for illegal potions. What is the current status of Polyjuice Potion in Wizarding law?”
“All forms of it became restricted substances in 2013, as I’m sure you well know, Sherlock.”
“Right, because I used to use it freely before that law passed. Then I had to get a special dispensation from Kingsley to use it afterwards for my investigations with him. I have to tell you that my reputation for clever disguises took a hit when it became restricted. It was a good thing I had stocked up,” Sherlock said with a hint of a smirk.
Harry looked at him in shock. “It’s addictive! I hope you’re not still using it.”
Sherlock shook his head. “I weaned myself off of it a few years ago. Tough, but I managed. Kingsley wouldn’t tolerate me otherwise. Did you know that’s why he cut off all communication between me and the Wizarding World? He basically set up a ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you’ kind of deal. That’s why I had to come to you. I had no other way to contact him directly. I find it frustrating that he lacks confidence in my ability to stay off of it.”
Severus sat up straighter. “Addictive? There shouldn’t be anything addictive in it.”
“Right. You wouldn’t know. Around 2003, a new form of Polyjuice Potion was developed that lasted six hours unless you took the antidote. Separately, they weren’t highly addictive unless you took either of them frequently and over a prolonged period of time. However, if you took them together, it became a potently addictive drug. Users became quite euphoric and their physical features had a tendency to morph in strange ways. A large subculture formed around it. People who didn’t know, or didn’t care, how bad it was for them congregated in underground clubs to share their experiences. St. Mungos has had an influx of addicts attempting to recover from it over the last ten years.”
“That’s ludicrous. What numbskull would poison their body that way?” He glared at Sherlock.
“I think that proves you were probably not involved in the manufacturing of it,” Harry said.
“If you’re finished judging me, let’s get back to the facts, shall we?” Sherlock suggested as he looked dismissively at Severus. He stood up and paced the room. “Some of the Muggles thought the costumed people were quite funny and took photographs or recordings of the ‘convention guests’. I found them posted on the internet. I thought one in particular should interest you.”
He handed Harry the iPhone and a familiar face peered back at him. It was a short recording of a young woman walking with several other people her age in Hyde Park right in front of where the store would have been. It was daylight.
“Rose?”
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Crime is of the Essence