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There was no way to reach him anymore. John had locked Sherlock out of everything. He had promised Mary he would not leave John alone … how was he going to keep his promise if he could not even get in the door?
There had to be something he hadn’t thought of. Coffee was not his usual vice when he was stuck on a problem, but Mrs. Hudson had kicked him out of the flat because she said he was stomping through the ceiling. A quick wander down the street had lead him to an intriguing sign, a bishop in a coffee mug. It made no logical sense to combine a chess piece with coffee but the Bishop’s Brew caught his attention with the contradiction. That had to be why he was sitting in the back of this coffee shop watchin a curly headed woman argue with the barista.
“I’m telling you, GInny. There has got to be a way to make him talk. The only way he is going to heal from this and sleep is to get him to talk.” The curly headed woman continued to rant as she sipped from a mug. “I am a healer and I can’t even heal my own husband. It would help if he would listen for once. The nightmare’s are not going to go away if he keeps them locked in his head.”
“Mione, that is exactly why he is not listening to you.” The barista smiled and place a cookie cover plate in front of the healer. “My brother is just as stubborn now as he was when we were growing up. He will be here in a few minutes and I will see what I can do. If nothing else, we can get Harry to put him in a full body bind and Floo him to Mum. He is still a little afraid of her.”
“I have to get back to St. Mungos. Send an owl when he gets here.” The healer smiled as she set down her mug and grabbed the last cookie off her plate. “I’m just a flick away.”
Sherlock rubbed his eyes as he watched the curly headed woman vanish with a flick of her wrist. There was no logical reason for what he had just seen, but he was up for just about anything. He had heard rumors of magic in London, but there was no logical reason to believe in magic.
“Bloody hell, she didn’t even notice a Muggle was in the shop.” The barista began to mutter as she looked up to see Sherlock in the back corner of the shop. “Excuse me, sir. DO you mind looking this way for a minute?”
Sherlock smiled as he considered his move. “If you are going to wave that wand at me and make me forget what I have just seen, don’t bother. I have a favor to ask and your curly headed friend may be my only solution.”
The barista set a slim stick on the counter in front of her and sighed. “My sister-in-law is a brilliant healer, but she misses the simplest clues. WHat will it take for you to forget what you have just seen?”
“A conversation with your sister-in-law and maybe a favor or two.” Sherlock rose and began to walk to the counter. “You might as well call me Sherlock if we are going to be spending time together.”
“Ginny Potter,” The barista tapped Sherlock’s mug and watched it float to the sink behind her. “This shop is usually hidden from Muggles but I lifted the charm for today. Just my luck, Mione forgot and apparated back to work. How can we help you, Sherlock?”
“I need to get a healer into a friend and he won’t talk to me.” Sherlock rubbed his finger over his lip as he frowned. “I just need to get in to see him and I think she can help.”
“What’s in it for her?” Ginny watched Sherlock collect his thoughts. “She has been working herself to the bone to figure out what to do to help my brother get over his last case. Too much like our school years for any of their likings.”
“I help her solve her husband and she helps me solve John.” Sherlock grinned and tapped the counter. “I’ll wait until she returns and present my case.”
Ginny scratched a few words on a piece of parchment. “Okay, Pig. Time to get Hermione back here. She owes me, again.”
Sherlock was not surprised when the curly headed woman reappeared. “Hello, Hermione. I think I can help you if you will help me.”
“Ginny, who is this man? Why is he smiling at me?” Hermione looked at the tall man with the scruffy face standing beside her favorite stool. “And, where is Ron? You said he was here.”
“I’m Sherlock Holmes and I need your help.” Sherlock tapped the counter again as he watched confusion grow on Hermione’s face. “Your husband will be here in ten minutes. John Watson won’t let me in and I need to see him to keep a promise. You poof me into his flat and talk to him and I’ll deal with your husband.”
“I don’t trust you, Sherlock.” Hermione raised an eyebrow as she listened to Sherlock talk. “Why should I help you. I have enough to deal with between work and family. I don’t need anyone else’s problems.”
“You are a Healer. You always take on other peoples’ problems.” Sherlock watched Hermione drop a hand to cover her stomach. “You worry about your husband because you have news for him. He worries about you because he know how difficult your job is. He doesn’t talk to you about cases because it makes him feel less than. Just let him be and tell him the news. The nightmares will never stop, but John got better when he and mary were waiting for Rosie.”
“You had better be right.” Hermione gripped SHerlock’s arm and lifted her wand. “Picture where you want to be and hope there is a trash bin nearby when we get there. Muggles never do well with apparating.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Holmes.” Ginny grinned as Sherlock disappeared. “Ron is never going to believe this… Sherlock Holmes isn’t just a figment of someone's imagination. He has become Hermione’s nightmare.”