A/N: Well, long time no see. Yeah, sorry about that. I won't say much here, but I will have a more lengthy explanation at the end.

And this chapter has yet to be revised, but I could tell you all are impatient, so here ya go! The full complete(ish) chapter 2 of Inconvenient Timing!

Chapter 2 - Figures

Being a leading figure for a group is usually a daunting task, but one is perfectly capable of being one portrays the proper traits. A type of person who could hold their ground and take matters swiftly taking the route of the higher probability of success. Take account every problem, find efficient solutions, and then apply them. Being a leading figure of a government body has the same principles, except with the extra delicate politics of leading, otherwise the same.

Thus when the Minister of Magic, Hermione Jean Weasley née Granger got a contacted by the Ambassador of Magical and Muggle Relations, she knew that there would be delicate matters afoot.

It had crossed Hermione's mind that there was a possibility of a political problem or a simple social call. She couldn't very well tell as she was contacted by a short but very perplexing message of: "Let's have tea," with a street address just below. The brunette had recognized that it was an upper class street in Muggle London.

Nevertheless, strange.

Hermione was supposed to be meeting with someone in a few hours, but now the witch just hoped that she will be okay waiting for her considering the short message seem to send off bells in the witch's head. Hermione had already learned to trust her instincts, so she took a calming breath and straightened her posture. Making sure everything was in order, she headed out of her office. As she walked out, Hermione's eyes landed on the familiar golden blond witch at her desk.

"Alisa?"

Alisa, the young Junior Assistant, promptly brought her attention to the older witch from her paper work. "Yes, Minister Weasley?"

"I have a relative visiting this afternoon. Please inform her that I would be running late and I would come meet her as soon as I get back. Everything else is covered for the day, yes?"

Alisa Fay nodded and looked over of Hermione's schedule when the younger women waved her wand for the parchment. "Everything is covered till 3 pm as you have requested."

Hermione smiled, "Thank you. I should be back around an hour if you need to inform me about anything."

Usually, Harry would call himself levelled headed in tight situations. One example was when he and his team went on a raid on an underground smuggling bust a couple months back. Apparently, they had missed the signs of explosive runes until one of his team tripped it. Let's just say since the elder Potter had experience (he is not proud of the fact) with dark enclosed spaces, thus he didn't react as badly as some of the others had.

Who knew Arron Scott had claustrophobia? The bloke could jump off a five storey building to catch a burglar without hesitation, but goes into hyperventilation when stuck in a tight space.

Frankly, Harry's mind was descending into confusion and slight panic. One moment a perplexing conversation with a muggle, who stole his newspaper, was in front of him, the next 'poof' gone. A muggle can't just disappear!

"Morning Harry."

The frantic wizard jumped a foot in the air and nearly snapped his neck when he whipped around at the sound of his name to see a familiar man with horn-rimmed glasses stood before Harry who gave a single nod of greetings. Though the other man frowned when he saw Harry's attempt on clearing the surprised look on his own face.

"Are you quite alright, Harry? You seem a bit jumpy."

After he'd fixed his composer, Harry replied, "Uhh, morning Percy. And fine, I'm fine." One of the the older Weasley's eyebrows raised up.

He still had the distinct shade of ginger on his head, though seemed to have thinned considerably in contrast from Harry's younger memories of the other man. Harry then noticed that Percy was carrying a painstakingly organised folder in his right hand and a brown package under his left arm.

Harry wouldn't say he was particularly close to his brother-in-law, but ever since the War at Hogwarts, Percy had changed into a completely different person. Who wouldn't after they all went through hell and back? He was still very much a prick at times and a stickler for the rules but was surprisingly laid back ever since. Though, he has opened up to a morbid sense of humour that scares even Harry sometimes which almost makes him miss the younger more pompous, prick Percy.

Almost.

In addition, they do collaborate occasionally when Harry needed clearance with special international Portkeys for certain cases. Having a brother-in-law who was Head of the Department of Magical Transportation has their advantages after all, especially after a weekly family Sunday brunch. Other than that, the only contact they have with each other was merely passing by each other on their way to work or meet up with family. Percy usually has his eyes glued to a parchment writing reports and such. Mostly ignoring other workers with the set intensity of getting his work done.

Currently, the older Weasley did not certainly have his eyes glued to a piece of parchment.

"Of course. And while I have your attention, I wanted to speak to you about the Portkeys you asked me to schedule today. Oh, I need to get your reports for some transport files from last week out of the way as well."

"Oh, uhh reports. Do need them now?"

"Before the end of today preferably. And about the Portkeys –"

Harry hadn't heard the rest of Percy's words when the younger wizard's emerald like eyes suddenly zeroed in on a particularly suspicious movement across the atrium.

" – would doing that be fine with you, Harry?"

"Yes, I mean– can I get back to you at a later time? I need to do something. . ."

"I suppose so, but – "

The elder Potter made a quick work of crossing the distance through the growing crowd, leaving his slightly confused brother in-law to fret over whatever important he had to say.

Two assessments ran through Sherlock's head as he was being dragged swiftly by his arm behind a familiar short, brunette women with substantial force he couldn't fathom she was capable of.

Assessment one was the uncomprehending question of why was she here when the man knew with concrete certainty that she was not supposed to be here, but yet, she was. Sherlock had known the women enough to deduce that she wasn't the type who would visit a government facility on her own terms, let alone a secret one. Thus the question of why.

Her clothes doesn't match the apparent robe policy, but they are what he could tell was that they were her taste. Although, considering they were slightly above casual, the clothes virtually scream visiting someone she hadn't seen in a considerable time. Most likely a relative.

The second assessment was the nagging sensation that he was missing a piece of information that would put together the new unique riddle he had just discovered. A secret Ministry under the grounds of London that he himself didn't knew existed. To add to the complexity of this puzzle was that the facility couldn't possibly exist. No, cross that, isn't suppose to exist at all.

This was getting far more interesting.

Once she yanked the taller man behind a non-descriptive column, she spun around to face him with an expression of which he could describe as anger. He did noted the fact that she kept glancing around him out to the sea of simple minded workers.

Shifting eyes in nervousness – no, she was assess her surroundings. That can't be right. Pursed lips, fidgeting hands – ooh – she knows something.

Before a single word leave her lips in a burst of anger would, the taller man inquired a question.

"What are you doing here, Molly?"

Molly sputtered indignantly, then narrowed her eyes. The brunette whispered harshly, "No! Stop it! Just stop! For once in your life, stop! You don't get to ask that question! I should be asking you that! You're not even supposed to be here, so what are you doing here and how did you even found the entrance?!"

"By chance. Your familiar about this place?"

"I can't - Stop it! You are not going to do whatever you usually do right now, Sherlock. You have to get out before you get into deeper trouble than you already are."

Sherlock rose an eyebrow. "Familiar. This place is familiar to you," he stated simply.

A frustrated growl left Molly's lips, but she soon gathered her barons. Then Sherlock saw her froze and paled slightly. By impulse, Sherlock sidestepped the shorter women's lunge, effectively preventing her from grabbing his arm again.

Sherlock gave a causal gaze over his shoulder to see what had caused Molly's initial panic.

Well, Sherlock wasn't particularly surprised to see the black haired man's eyes sweeping through the atrium. The detective had predicted that the other man would be quite persistent as any other law enforcement type.

Sherlock could tell that Mr. Potter was experienced in his field, and he would likely be competent at it judging from his soldier like stature that reminded the detective of a certain flat mate. Though, the strange man seemed to be ever so slightly more impulsive stance compare to John.

Or so he assume at the moment.

The consultant detective smirk a little. Sherlock suspects that Molly wasn't exactly afraid of the Mr. Potter, but cautious with recognition. Not with familiarity exactly, but she knew of him.

"Molly, what exactly is this place?"

The woman flinched slightly, "I – I can't tell you." The younger women sighed and looked back at the uniquely green eyed man nervously.

"Can't or won't?"

Sherlock could tell her eyes flickered up at him, but didn't acknowledge it.

"Can't."

The taller man stood silently in thought. The silence lasted only lasted a few moments before Sherlock stated, "Let's go meet Harold again."

"What?! Are you out of your mind?! No, nevermind, I should've known you would do something like that." She paused then muttered, "And his name it Harry, just Harry."

However, before Sherlock could even move to gather more information out of the other frantic man in the middle of the early morning crowd, there was a certain tone in Molly's voice that gave the consultant detective a pause.

"You can't appease your curiosity or try to understand any of this. You won't be allow to."

A/N: Before anyone gets frantic about why Molly is making an appearance, there is a reason, well a few reasons, since I planned for awhile now. All I'm revealing at this point is, yes, she knows about the magical world and no, she is not a witch. The rest will be answered at a later date. Probably not for a long time since I have a horrible track record of posting on a schedule.

To inform you all, if you didn't know, I do not strive to be a writer. My fics are just stuff I think about and decided to put on paper. Thus, updates will not be consistent if you hope to read more of this story. I will promise that I do not plan to abandoning any of my fics without warning.

Thank you again for every single one of you guys who favorited, followed, and reviewed my story. It makes me feel so giddy to so many of you took interest in my writing.

Reviews, comments, critics are appreciated! ^^

-FairyRave