by N.B.D. (Glitterbug880012 at aol.com)
"No, not that I can remember... ever," Holmes said in reply.
Lestrade kept walking as she continued to talk. "Itís -- itís
a school. Very selective in their choices. Iím one of their students,
and, letís just say my family made him sorta angry."
"Lestrade, you have reached new heights of being intelligent,"
he said sarcastically as she started towards the door. He waved the
book. "Is this of any importance?"
Her eyes widened and she snatched the book from him, holding
to her chest, protectively. "Yes, a lot. Iím out of here, anyways.
Hopefully, Iíll be alive next time I see you."
"Iím coming with you." He grabbed her arm, and she turned
slowly. "Youíve piqued my curiosity."
"You have no idea what youíre getting yourself into," she
said, her voice venomous. Holmes nonchalantly stood in the doorway.
She aimed her ionizer at his head and spoke in a perfect monotone.
"Get out of my way, stay out of my business, or die."
"I wonít choose any. Iím coming if you like it or not."
She groaned. "'Omae o korosu,' thatís all I can say, Holmes."
"Oh, you speak Japanese now?"
"Have, and others. I gotta go. I spent too much time here,
"Where are we going?"
"Youíll find out when we get there. First, Iím going into
town for supplies."
They walked the entire way, until they reached a street that
branched into two directions. In the center was an old, closed-down
Lestrade continued to walk, suddenly self-conscious. She was
so caught up in what she was doing, she forgot Holmes. It wasnít
until she was opening the door to the pub -- which now seemed to be
open and bursting with activity, the gilded sign over head gleaming
-- that she remembered.
"Lestrade, how on Earth was that done?" He strode over to her.
She gaped. "What? Didnít you suddenly remember something? Or
hit a wall?"
"No. Was I supposed to?"
"Itís just that youíd have to be a wiz-- never mind. Follow
They entered a lobby, and Lestrade gave Holmes a warning
glance. "Thereís going to be some people in there that donít like
me. So just keep walking to the back."
The door opened to a grimy looking pub. Holmes was suddenly
aware of the fact that his clothing nearly *fit in*, save for the
fact that most of the men and women were in dresses. Everyone stopped
and stared at them as they proceeded to the back.
"Lestrade!" A stout looking woman embraced Lestrade. "My poor
precious child. What ever Ďappened to you?"
"Uh, life, Tilly." Lestrade smiled.
"What can I get for you? A butterbeer?" She started to
address Holmes. "ĎEaven knows she was terribly fond oí them as a
child. Why, Ďad to Ďelpíer to the stools to be able to order, I did...."
"No butterbeers today. Could you help me with the back? I
sort of -- well-" She looked down, blushing.
"Broke yours? I know, child. Made Daily Prophet five
minutes later. Itíd be a pleasure to Ďelp you." She ushered them to
the back of pub, and into the back. She took out what seemed to
Holmes a slender wooden rod, and tapped some various bricks.
Suddenly, they folded back onto themselves and made an
archway. A street, bustling with activity, appeared.
"Lestrade," Holmes said, annoyed. "Thereís a spell shop and a
wand shop, as well as..." He looked up in the air at two people.
"...Flying brooms. Mind explaining?"
She laughed nervously. "Hehe, I forgot to tell you Iím a
witch, didnít I? Oops, slipped my mind, I guess. Anyway, moving on."
He let out a sigh of exasperation as he followed her.
"Prosthetic eyeballs, then a half-dead Lestrade on Baker Street...
On to Part 4!
Back to part 2
Back to the Fanfic index