Genius in the puzzle

It was shocking that Sherlock showed up to Mycroft's office with invitation. Britain must be impending danger. Mycroft eyed his baby brother who sat straight backed looking around his office like it was an aquarium of little interest.

"Don't bore me." Sherlock states motioning for John to take the seat beside him. John did so with far less flare than what Sherlock would pull off as Mycroft's pretty assistant walked in, like a jack rabbit John jolted out of his seat standing like a gentleman- his attention on the beautiful brunette missing Sherlock's smirk.

"Sit down, John." Sherlock instructed, pulling at the doctor's coat, John obeys his attention staying on the woman. The brunette swept her hair off her shoulder and looked timidly to Sherlock. "I need your help, Mr. Holmes." She request standing like a lady with her hands folded in front of her.

"You are both acquainted with my assistant." Mycroft announces, the formality his statement was not a question but both men answer in unison.

"Yes."

"Athena, whatever it is I assure you we can help." John declares, ever the chivalric soldier, even as a married man and expecting father.

"Athena? John, this is Cassandra, if Mycroft is the British government, she is its eyes and ears. I'm still waiting to meet its brain." Sherlock jokes, John can't hold back the snicker placing his fist over his mouth and looking away.

"As you obviously know I have a wide interlocking network of surveillance not just nationwide but globally. Several months ago my sister went missing. There have been no signs of her since. No ransom letter, no activity of any kind to indicate she has left the country. She simply vanished." Cassandra explained.

"Your network far exceeds my own, I'm not sure what you expect me to do." Sherlock lied he just wanted them to say it, clearly his interest was piqued.

"Mycroft won't let me use ministry employees for foot work, even with my own funds. I have tried to investigate on my time off but no one will talk to me. I need help. I need someone that can blend in that has contacts. I need to know what happened to her. I have talked to her friends and they too have tried to help, but there is one person that won't talk to anyone and he was one of the last people to see my sister before she vanished." Cassandra explained.

"Name." Sherlock asked rudely.

"His name is Draco Malfoy, he just recently took over his father's private law firm and has been gaining clients from parliament and the royal family. He is a snake. Manipulative and unscrupulous, my sister went to school with him, they never got on." Cassandra stated with very little emotion considering the situation.

"Estranged?" Sherlock spoke looking to Cassandra- it was clearly a question.

"I don't..." she began before Sherlock interrupted.

"Your sister has been missing several months- several entails at least seven months, your resources take time to muddle through but not seven months. So either you recently found out she was missing, two weeks top- or you are horrible at your job. Mycroft keeps you around so I assume you and your sister are estranged." Sherlock explains impatiently.

"Estranged…yes, I faked my death when I joined the magistracy. I am thirteen years older than her, I'm sure she barley remembers me, she was little more than a baby last time she saw me." Cassandra confirmed.

Sherlock simply nodded. "But you kept an eye on her just the same. So she is what seventeen?… eighteen? She graduated from school early or late birthday." Sherlock thinks out loud. "Where did she work?"

"She didn't, took classes by post while in the private school our parents sent her to, after graduation she was taking university classes on line. She graduated early… after our parents died all she had was friend- kept to herself. She is a smart girl." Cassandra explained.

"So how does a smart girl vanish from a crowded room?" the detective asks.

"How did you know it was a crowded room?" Cassandra asked clearly surprised he knew that.

"Because a smart girl does not meet up with strangers in secluded areas and a smart girl does not leave a crowded room unless it's with someone she trust." Sherlock concludes.

"You think she knew who took her?" Cassandra asked clearly not having anticipated such a theory.

"Your sister defiantly knew her attacker, what is your sister's name?" Sherlock asked flipping the collar of his coat up. Clearly he was taking the case.

"Hermione Granger."

"Give John the boy's information." Sherlock instructs heading for the door.

"Sorry he does that. Of course you two know that don't you." John explains handing his phone to Cassandra so she can type in this Malfoy bloke's info in his GPS.

Psychopath vs Sociopath

The building was impractical, the massive glass structure among the brick and cobble of historical London. This was not a building that Sherlock was familiar with and he knew London like the back of his hand if not better. This building was new, recently added only it didn't look new it looked to be built in the early nineties with its architectural style and modern open glass décor.

The receptionist is a repulsive toad like woman dressed in fluffy bubble gum pink, her voice is too feminine to belong to such a creature, but when she clears her throat for the third time while looking for the appointment they do not have with Mr. Malfoy, Sherlock excuses himself to the loo. Leaving John who is eyeing a candy tray with extreme interest.

Sherlock does not go to the loo, he helps himself snooping around the building. All the outer walls are glass, the inner structure is made out of imported black Italian marble. The floors are pristine, waxed hourly (only logical explanation), they too are made of the same imposing black marble. The moldings are traditional modern inspired with green and silver detailing. Every handle on every door is a silver snake in the shape of a M except the one door that is neither glass or black marble. The heavy steel door panted Kelly green, there is no handle on this door and it very promising to be hiding all kinds of dark secrets, perhaps even missing girls.

"Can I help you, Mr. Holmes?" A man asks from behind him. Sherlock who had been inspecting the green door for any kind of entry turns to find a very young man in a white suit and green tie watching him with very little interest.

"How does this door open?" Sherlock brazenly asks.

The young man is pale, his cheek bones rival the detectives and his platinum hair is perfectly parted on the left then swept back in a classic little boys hair do. Sherlock's mother stopped combing his hair that way when he was three. The style, however, seemed to work quite well for this imposing business man.

"From the inside." The man replies dryly.

"How do I get inside?" Sherlock asks, the man smirks there is a wickedness to the smirk and Cassandra's voice whispers across the detective's mind: he is a snake.

"You don't, Mr. Holmes. Follow me." The young man beacons walking down to one of the glass doors, he holds it open and allows Sherlock to enter first.

John is sitting in a leather chair facing a glass desk, they are on the eight floor. The young man takes the throne like chair behind the desk- the man in charge then.

"My I presume you are Mr. Draco Malfoy then?" Sherlock asks not really needing the confirmation only wanting a few seconds to survey the office. Book case on the right side of the wall facing the vault- simple, a hidden passage way. He walked over to read the book titles all boring ethic and political books. A scull over a thousand years old sitting upon a stack of supernatural novels and guide books, and a pressed flower in a frame with a white cloth back, bell heather if Sherlock was not mistaken.

"Let's get on with it, why are you seeking about my domain like a crook in the night? Dolores is very upset over your escapades." Malfoy stated there was a hint of amusement in the last part.

"The toad creature I presume." Sherlock stated with one more sweep of the room before he sets himself next to John in a matching leather arm chair. "I needed to talk with you and was not in your appointment book, it would not let me pass so I improvised."

"And what is so important that you could not make an appointment like a normal client?" Mr. Malfoy asked once more appearing bored.

"Not a client I am a consulting detective and I am looking for a missing class mate of yours. I was informed you were the only one that has not been interviewed out of the few that last saw her."

"No one I am acquainted with is missing so you must be mistaken" Mr. Malfoy boldly declares with a dead look in his eyes.

"Curious how you have a locked door in your establishment that can only be opened from the inside, when there is a missing girl of your acquaintance." Sherlock states.

"I have to ensure a certain level of privacy too many of my clients, housing secrets is one of those service, a locked vault is quite rational." Mr. Malfoy states with a sneer.

"So you don't have any girls locked in your vault." Sherlock point blank asks.

"No yet." Mr. Malfoy is very snide but his disinterest is still apparent.

"So you are not aquatinted with a Hermione Granger?" Sherlock asks watching as the young man simply stops. He stops moving, breathing, blinking, he simply stops. It's a bit creepy and it lasts for fifteen seconds then Mr. Malfoy blinks and his cold colorless eyes melt into a raging sea of molting steel and anger.

"If Potter wants to accuse me of something, he can do so like a man and to my face. The door is that way." For all the emotions in Mr. Malfoy's eyes his exterior is calm yet demanding. They are being dismisses and while John stands to leave Sherlock remains seated.

"I do not know a Potter, I was employed by Hermione Granger's sister." Sherlock states silently waiting until he has regained this young man's full attention.

"Hermione Granger does not have a sister. Though I have called Potter worse." Mr. Malfoy declares his eyes challenging.

"They're estranged." John fills in and Malfoy looks at him like he would like nothing more than to murder something.

"Thought you said you didn't know anyone missing." Sherlock arrogantly points out. Successfully getting Mr. Malfoy to once more focus on him. His brows furrow together and his lips purse in annoyance, any attempt at regaining an air of calm business man has been swept away just by the girl's name.

"Said I wasn't acquainted with anyone missing. Granger and I are not acquainted." Mr. Malfoy lies, it's a good lie too one that perhaps anyone else might believe.

"Nope." Sherlock calls bullshit.

"Bloody Know-it-all! Anyone who has ever meant her would want to strangle her. Did you check the morgue for bodies?" Mr. Malfoy sounded a bit too interested in that possibility.

"You're not helping your case." John points out sounding put off by this man's apparent glee over the possibility.

"She is arrogant, she knows everything. She is insufferable and has to be right all the time, never mind she is actually right. The students at our school were chosen, handpicked to attend…yet Granger made everyone else there feel like ignorant children. Top of the class worked hard for it, or so I thought until I found out she was taking university classes by post and that is why she spent so much time in the library. Not because of her primary studies but because the bleeding know-it-all is working on a doctorate. Have you ever met a genius Mr. Holmes?" Mr. Malfoy is all worked up talking with more teeth than lips, looking ferocious like a hungry serpent ready to swallow them whole.

"A few." Sherlock boldly states.

"Not you. You think you're smart and you are clever, but Hermione Granger is brilliant. Whoever took her had planned it all out, every possibility. It only worked because she trusted them, that girl was wicked fast and strong." Mr. Malfoy bites out there is something in his expression that John picks up on.

"Know from personal experience do you?" John snidely asks

"She smacked me when I was thirteen, I learned some self-defense buffed up, trained."

"Tried to get revenge…" Sherlock lead him.

"Tried to steal a kiss, and she beat the crap out of me. That woman has a grace all her own." Mr. Malfoy praises in apparent disgust and wonder. There is something frightening in his tone when he speaks of the missing girl.

"So how do I know you don't have her hidden away to keep all to your deprived little self." Sherlock asks looking at the young man in front of him judgingly

"Because if I conquered Hermione Granger I would show case my pretty little genius to the world." It was apparent that Mr. Draco Malfoy was more than a little insanely obsessed.

"It was nice meeting you." Sherlock lied shaking hands with the snake across the desk.

"Let's go, John." Sherlock states turning to leave.

"When you do find her… if you bring her by the office I will compensate you accordingly." Mr. Malfoy called out the offer to their retreating backs a dark lure there that makes the hairs on Sherlock's neck stand in attention. They don't respond leaving the building a quickly as possible.

When they reached the outdoors and hailed a taxi Jon turned to Sherlock, "Do you think he has her or do you believe him when he say doesn't." John asks looking agitated by the encounter.

"He doesn't have her." Sherlock proclaims with absolute certainty.

"How do you know?" John asked clearly not willing to take Mr. Malfoy's word.

"Because, John, she trusted her attacker." Sherlock reminds the doctor.

"I don't follow." John looks confused replaying the conversation with Mr. Malfoy in his head.

"The girl was too smart to trust a man like that." Sherlock proclaimed turning to look out the window.

The lost is found

The street was brightly tend by the street lamps the weather clear the night sky hung with all the jewels of the stars then there was lightning out of nowhere ripple in a cross the sky followed by a loud crack unlike any thunder ever heard. The street went dark all the lamp post went out no one whom dared to peek out of their window could see a thing; no rain followed, no lightning followed, no repeating thunder of any kind followed. The street lamps flickered and one by one they re-illuminate: casting shadows. Only one resident had dared venture out of his house at such an hour, the loud sound a noise he had grown accustomed to living in the wizard world.

Harry's perimeters had been breached. His spells laid shredded where they had been cast months before warring alarms blared implying his house was under attack. Harry Potter put on his glasses and shoved his feet in his slippers before shuffling to the hall way with a flick of his wrist he turned the alarm off and peeked out the window to get a look at the impending threat. Only the steps were empty his eyes wondered to the square and there in the center was a hunched figure crumple over and all alone.

"Harry what's going on?" His live in girlfriend Ginny Weasley asked from the bathroom.

"Spells been breached." He explained. "Best to stay here." He tells her shutting the door in her face as he yawns widely.

She squawks and he ignores her as he opens the front door and adjusts his glasses. The square is just flickering back to light, the hunched figure in the center was oddly familar. Even in this poor light with his bad sight he knows her and without thought of consequence or much thought on anything he throws himself down the stair case and scoops her into a fierce hug, clinging to her like she would disappear in his arms.

She is trembling and she smells like rotten meat, but there is no question in his mind that it is her.

"Hermione." He whispers her name like a prayer and she looks up at him.

"Harry" She says his name in disbelieve and the tears in her eyes fall, at the same time the sky opens and a downpour assaults them where they sit clinging to each other in the cobbler square. He moves hoisting her up in his arms bridal style her hands grip his shoulders, her face buried in his neck.

"You're safe. I have you." He promises whispering as her fingers dig deeper into his flesh, her body shacking as she sobs uncontrollably. She is ridiculously light, she feels fragile in his arms bone and skin he is carefully concerned if he holds her too tight she might break, but if he does not hold her tight enough she might just disappear again.

"Harry." She weeps his name and her body begins to go slack, and justs as her arms go limp, the raining stop, he adjusts her so he can see her face. She has passed out but hat beautiful heart shaped face with puckering coral lips, is all too familiar. Her eye lashes full creating a crescent shape on her cheeks that are sulked, her skin is pale gone is her healthy glow and rosy cheeks, Harry feels the anger burring in his chest as he hugs her tighter, carrying her up the stairs and safely home.

First time she wakes up it is apparent that somewhere between her vanishing eight months pass and showing up just as mysteriously last night she has lost her marbles. Hermione is not quite right, gone is the clever girl with a ready answer and smile. Defender of all she loved and those she felt deserved a champion. In her place is a frail, half-starved creature with innocent eyes, which can barely form a full sentence let along do for herself. Hermione Granger has been reduced to an ignorant and frighten child.

Ginny Weasly terrifies her, if any indication of the earth shattering scream and her hiding in the nearest closet when Ginny tried to server her food in bed. It takes Harry nearly an hour to coax Hermione out of the closet, Harry places the tray in front of her and motions for her to eat. Hermione out right refused to eat anything prepared on the tray. So Harry takes her down to the kitchen and made her pancakes just as she had showed him how to do so long ago.

She smiles and after he cut it up for her and feed her the first bite which she thankfully eats- she is able feed herself. When she has finished her meal Harry explains that she needed to take a shower and that it would be best if Ginny was in the bath room to help. Hermione went back to her closet, refusing to go anywhere with the red headed demon.

Harry laughed Ginny glowered at her boyfriend. It takes Harry another hour with filled with stories of her and Ginny's friendship to get Hermione to come back out of the closet standing before him with wide eyes staring at him like he is her everything.

"Why can't you help me?" Hermione asked with all the innocence of a five year old. Harry laughed nervously and Ginny glowered at Hermione. Hermione down right refuses to take a shower when Harry explains he can't that it is better for Ginny to help. But seeing that even in this feeble state at the core of this Hermione, she still stands firm, a stubborn girl who is a quick study.

Harry reassured his girlfriend of the predicament, reminding Ginny of just how close him and Hermione had always been, then puts on his big boy swimming trunks and ushers Hermione into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

When they get into the bathroom it became painfully aware that Hermione's mentality of self-sufficiency was perhaps closer to that of a three year old. He turns the water on and adjusted it to the temperature he used, then without any warning or instruction she peels off her rank clothes and throws them on the floor. Harry had every intention of looking, he wanted to know what had been done to her. They had lived through a war together and confided in each other the ones they experienced alone. Harry knew all her stories and she knew of all his. From scars growing up to ones from the war, and if there were any new ones he wanted to know needed to see to understand exactly what was done to her. He did not see any new ones but she was bruised, finger bruising along her sunken in waist line and long dark bruising across her shoulder blades and the lower back of her thighs. She was so small, Hermione had always been small but she had always had a healthy softness like any healthy woman, but there was nothing healthy about her a skeleton coveren in skin and hair. He took mental pictures, then there were the angry welt bruising all around her wrists and ankles, where someone had chained her down for long periods of time. Harry could feel that pricking sensation behind his eyes as he reigned his emotions in. He had a job to do and now was the time for him to be strong.

"Burns." She says braking into his assessment. Harry shakes his head noticing her huddled down at the back of the tub out of the water's reach. He nod understanding.

"Right I can turn it down." He tells her leaning over and doing just that. Her hand touches the water and she tells him with a small smile when he has reached a temperature she likes. She scoots down in the bath tub letting the water cascade around her before staring up at him like she is waiting for him to do something.

"Ok" He states a little nervous do to her lack of clothing than anything else. Hermione was not an exhibitionist. But this is Hermione the girl that spent seven years taking care of him now it was time for him to do the same for her.

"Bath." She tells him like he is the simpleton and it becomes apparent she has no idea what a bath is.

"Right. I'll wash your hair first then you can wash your body." He explains taking the shampoo and applying it to her hair starting to scrub. She sits straight back and unnaturally still as he works.

"Harry." she reaffirms, his name seems to mean something that she can't explain in words but she shows in her actions, and it seems weird but he just nods thinking he understands.

"OK. Put your head back so I don't get soap in your eyes." He has to walk her through it step by step, body positioning and how to hold a wash cloth to clean your body, what parts to clean first to last. It was one of the most humiliating experiences of his life and he wonders if she has ever felt odd about the lengths she has gone through to help him in the course of their friendship. He mimics how she is to rinse herself off and then wraps a towel around her hair and then around her body.

"Step carefully the floor is a little wet and if you fall you could get hurt." He tells her and she nods. He guides her through the door and Ginny is setting across the hall with murder in her eyes.

"Took you two long enough." She states snidely.

"Has Ron gotten back to you?" Harry ask maneuvering Hermione down the hall to his room, he purposely leaves the door open again.

"Said he'd be here soon." Ginny replies she is looking at Hermione like she still doesn't believe it is her.

"Did you tell him why?" Harry asks sitting Hermione on his bed.

"You told me not to. So no I didn't. Don't what whoever had her to know, right?" Ginny's question holds a million and one meaning that hurts Harry's heart, he truly did not understand why she was acting like a scorned lover.

"I think they were playing with her mind, she's like a child. Can't remember how to shower or cut her food. I want to know what they were trying to do to her and why." Harry said.

"Or she's an imposter and she's playing you for a fool." Ginny stated coldly.

"Missing puzzle pieces." Hermione says looking at Ginny her eyes are bright like she understands. And there is a faint recognition as she looks at the red head and does not scream. It is an improvement.

"This is Hermione." Harry swears. "Your jealous does not belong here Gin. I need your help and she needs mine. Our friend. Our Hermione."

"I'll find something for her to wear." Ginny's shoulder relax walking out of Harry's room and into the guest room, where all her clothes are.

Hermione stands shrugging out of towels, she runs her fingers through her hair. Harry turns his back red cheeked as she helped herself to Harry's dresser, finding pajama pants that she slipped on and an old t shirt both of which are way too big for her.

Harry turns around and laughs.

"Yes you do tend to steal my clothes. Nasty habit of yours." He tells her adjusting his glasses before pulling the shirt up enough to adjust the draw string then roll the pant waist band just as he had seen her do a million and one times. "Wait the crème de la crème." He explains pulling a hair tie out of thin hair another favorite trick of hers. He takes the hem of the shirt and bunches it at one side of a hip and ties it with the tie.

"Student becomes the teacher." Hermione says with a smile. Just then Ginny returns with something fuzzy and pink.

"She'll be more comfortable like this Ginny, thank you though." Harry says. Ginny throws the pile on top of his dresser with a huff.

"Goodnight." She bites out leaving again clearly going to sleep in the guest room. Harry shakes his head unwilling to deal with Gin's drama right this minute. He walks over and picks up a wide tooth comb. "Here set on the bed I'll comb your hair then we will go to bed too." He tells Hermione who obeys.

Harry combs out her hair just as she had taught him after she had sprained her arm right the second war. He even braided it in a very unimpressive lopsided plait down her back- it was better than it hanging in her face he even conjured up a second hair tie for his master piece. He tucked her in bed and crawled in right beside her his arm under her pillow as he turned to look at her. They had slept side by side many times this time was no different and there was a comfort there for Harry to know she would be there in the morning.

Harry awoke to Hermione's restlessness, she was crying and thrashing about. He whispered her name in the dark, she woke with a start. "Harry?" again the way she said his name made his heart beat faster. He placed his hand on her forehead just as she had for him after a nightmare. "I'm here." He reassures her.

"Broken." She tells him rolling on top of him, staring down at him with urgency, her eyes begging for him to understand. He freezes at the feel of her weight on top of him. Terrified of the current situation. He loved her but not in the way that suggest anything romantic. He loved her like an extended piece of himself, fully and truly without complications or hidden agenda. Hermione was his sister the simplest part of his heart.

She is still looking down at him, motionless her eyes wide in the dark the beams of the moon the only light. It drifts in an seems to be illuminating her eyes, so wide filled with trust begging for him to understand what she has no words for.

"Fix." One word sentences is all she seems capable of and when he moves to push her off him she grabs ahold of his head, her thumbs on his temples as she pulls him closer to her, she is scaring him but he doesn't have the heart to back away, to lose her again, so he lets her rest her forehead on his, her pinkies wrap around to the back of his head just above his neck. "Path." She tells him and he is breathing heavy as his mind is jerked forward and thrown into darkness.

There is a child crying, a song of sorrow the only sense that welcomes Harry. Light does not exist only sound and he knows that cry, he has heard it more often than he would like in his life time. "Hermione?" He calls out to her sorrow, and the whisper of her name echoes into the void a small beautiful child with wild curls materializes in front of him, her eyes widen and in return she whispers his name through her tears. "Harry." His name is a warm pulse that created a dimness to the darkness and formless shapes become visible. The girl Hermione throws herself into Harry's embrace and his whole boy vibrates with her sorrow. He can feel her loneliness and isolation how she is so happy to see him she seems to glow with joy at his presence.

"He said you won't come, but I knew you would find me. You always find me, Harry." The child mournfully declares looking up at him with wide honey colored eyes.

The pain peeks again behind Harry's eyes as he understands, she had waited for him to recuse her, only he never did. He couldn't.

"Where is he?" Harry asked hoping Hermione's subconscious could remember who it was that took her, who had deduced her into this childlike state.

The child however looks frightened. "His name is forbidden." She whispers.

"Fear in a name only increases the fear of the thing itself." Harry reminded her of her own words but the child shakes her head griping him tighter.

"He will hear, even in the silence he has ears." She tells him burying her face against his stomach. He strokes her hair and thinks- he needs to calm her down. He thinks of all the way she has calmed him after a nightmare or vision and he can hear her voice rise in a calming melody, remembering how she sings, how her songs always calmed him, and how she would play the piano at Grimmald place in the dead of night when she couldn't sleep. Mozart always lured him back to sleep.

The music rises, not from her consciousness but from his own, him remembering how she played. He envisioned her, a strong healthy Hermione, his pillar of strength with her kind eyes and patient smile playing the piano as he laid on the couch caught up in her music and how he felt so safe with her. The child sways and Harry picks her up and sets her on his hip swaying with her in his arms, rocking her as the music fills the void around them. She sighs and her body relaxes and the darkness flickers fading to a dimness of shadow and moon light. Harry realizes he is conscious laying down in his bed a small weight on him, Hermione's body and her steady breaths feel more real than the little girl had. He rolls her off him and on to her side, pushing her hair out of her face, he kisses her temple and wraps his arm around her sleeping form.

"You are safe." He promises the sleeping girl.