A few weeks after the conglomeration of celebrations in 221B, a call came in to the Yard about a number of bodies that had been found down around the Oxo Tower wharf. First glance made it seem like it may have been an interrupted deal of some kind but as some of the bodies had been 'eccentrically dressed', Lestrade had Harry come along with him just in case. Admittedly, eccentric dress codes weren't exactly hard to come by in a city like London. The fact that it had been mentioned in the initial call in however, usually meant something magical was involved, which was something that amused Lestrade and Sherlock to no end. They had started teasing Harry for his un-magical fashion sense and threatening to gift him some brightly coloured clothing to make up for his lacking wardrobe. Harry thought he might get some kind of sympathy or understanding from John when he grumbled to him about it, as John tended to stay quiet whenever the teasing started up. Unfortunately, the one time Harry complained about it to John, the Doctor had smiled slyly and said something about how a green dickie bow would be a nice piece to start with.

Harry had been pleased (and secretly relieved) to find that everyone at the gathering had taken the revelation that he was a wizard rather well. There were a few random questions about the things magic could do, what creatures actually existed and if cackling on a broom at the full moon was really a thing but these were generally asked in the spur of the moment curiosity. Molly, of course, asked more than 'a few' questions and continued to do so every chance she got.

She had a list.

A long list.

It had gotten to the point that Harry had started to meet up with her for lunches just so they could work through it, which was good but also inevitably meant that more questions were added to her list with each Q&A Lunch session. Lestrade found this highly amusing as well, though for his own sanity, Harry never asked if it was the lunches or the scientist's curiosity that his senior found humorous. All in all, aside from a number of 'Reparo' charms, a few 'Accio' retrievals and one memorable night of entertaining baby Watson with his "pretty lights", everything was business as usual for Harry.

With his friends and colleagues at least.

Things with his brothers since the gathering had been… Strange.

The truce between Mycroft and Harry seemed to have extended far beyond the single night they had agreed upon and while the two were still avoiding each other somewhat, when they did interact, it was almost cordial. Which was the main thing Harry found strange, as Mycroft usually reserved cordial for 'clients'. Sherlock was only marginally better. He already treated with Harry in a more favourable way than he did anyone else save for John and Mary, but even he had nearly been… chipper, for lack of a better word, since the gathering. The two non-magical Holmes had obviously had some private conversations, dissecting the 'Magical Show and Tell' session that had taken place that night and Harry's responses to it, emotional, mental and physical alike. They had been doing that for as long as Harry had known them but this was the first time they had tried to respond in kind, rather than come to him directly with their conclusions. It almost seemed like they were trying to ease a burden of some kind for him.

Harry would rather they have done their usual and come to him directly with their finished analysis of the night, because he always tended to learn more from them about people and emotions than anywhere else. He had decided to play along for the moment though. He was fairly certain their behaviour was leading up to something but even if it wasn't it, couldn't last for much longer. Neither of them had the patience for continuous chipper and cordiality with the general public, never mind with him. If it did last for much longer, Harry thought he might go to their parents for advice or even directly to his brothers. He didn't want them to stress themselves, emotionally or otherwise, over something he wasn't terribly bothered by. He preferred Mycroft and Sherlock when they were unfiltered anyway.

"Right. Here we go again," Lestrade muttered from the driver's seat, pulling Harry from his musings as the senior detective pulled into the bicycle lane on the Doggett's side of Blackfriar Bridge. The crime scene had already been cordoned off before they'd arrived, which was no mean feat, considering the quickest route to the scene was next to a tube entrance, a pub and the pedestrian walkway along the Thames. Still, as awkward as it was, both the Yard and the public seemed to be making it work. As Harry and Lestrade stepped out of the car, they caught sight of Sergeant Donovan walking over to meet them. She sent a grim, if companionable, smile to greet them as she walked, which did not bode well for the scene they were about to see.

Harry and Donovan hadn't really worked with each other since the first venomous meeting in Lestrade's office. Aside from one or two cases where Harry had still been shadowing Lestrade, their work assignments were completely different and they didn't really have a reason to interact. However the first few times they did interact, despite being terribly stilted and uncomfortable, Donovan was courageous enough to take the first step and was exceedingly helpful. And Harry always did have a soft spot for courage and bravery. To be fair to the woman, she really was a competent sergeant and the only reason Harry was short with her was for the language she'd used to describe their consultant detective. Who just happened to be his brother, which would make his reason for being short tempered with her (if it were known) seem very petty. Thankfully, no one had questioned the familiarity between Harry and Sherlock so far, which meant Harry was safe in his budding 'tough but fair' reputation for the time being.

All of which was why Harry made a decisive effort to improve their working relationship. He welcomed her second opinions on cases he was having difficulty with, praised her help and work ethics and made sure she knew he was aware and appreciative of her talents in her work. All while trying not to be a creep or seem like he was coming onto her. Whatever emotional plate-spinning or juggling act Harry was performing, it seemed to be going well. While they spoke about next to nothing other than work, Donovan seemed comfortable enough in the knowledge Harry wasn't going to bite her head off again unless she gave him a reason to. They had relaxed around each other enough for a little banter to appear in their conversations and the atmosphere between them was much more pleasant. Something that Lestrade looked to be endlessly relieved and grateful for.

"So, what've we got?" Lestrade questioned as the Sergeant reached them beside the car.

Just as Donovan opened her mouth to give them the brief overview, a constable called for Lestrade's help with a gawker who was now trying to do more than gawk. That is to say, a constable called "Detective" while looking toward their trio and Harry helpfully nominated Lestrade with a sharp shove to his back and a sly foot to his ankles. The result of which made it look like Lestrade was literally tripping over himself to help out a man in need. Shooting a glare over his shoulder, Lestrade marched off to deal with the problem. Harry looked back at Donovan with an amused grin.

"Walk and talk?"

Donovan rolled her eyes but Harry was happy to note that there was a slight smile on her face as she moved to head back to the scene. Before the sergeant could turn or Harry could even take a step to follow her, Sherlock seemed to appear from nowhere beside Harry. Knowing that couldn't be the case, despite there being magic in the family, Harry glanced around and spotted John's heavily breathing form jogging up behind his brother from the direction of the bridge.

"Harry," Sherlock greeted, while John gave a floppy wave of his hand trying to catch his breath. Sherlock glanced at John before quickly looking away with an amused quirk to his lips and his eyes locked on Donovan's form. His expression became neutral as he flicked his gaze back to his elder brother.

Unfortunately for Sherlock, Harry's attention was on Donovan. She had an exasperated look on her face and Harry was hoping that had less to do with their consultant's latest appearance and more to do with the fact that she kept being interrupted before she could report. Harry watched as the woman's gaze flicked to him and her facial features settled on something contemplative. Then she took a deep breath and focused on their newest arrivals.

"Sherlock, John," Sergeant Donovan greeted. "Are you here to help with the investigation?"

Harry gave a small smile, grateful that she was even attempting to be civil. He sent her a nod of appreciation. Donovan bopped her head slightly in acknowledgement but otherwise didn't react to her superior. Harry was impressed and rather pleased considering he still hadn't told Sherlock how his initial meeting with Sergeant Sally Donovan had gone. Or any of their other interactions, for that matter. He needn't have worried.

Sherlock stared, wide eyed and speechless at the Sergeant then blurted out the loudest thing going through his mind at that moment.

"Who are you and what have you done with Sally Donovan?"

"Locksie," Harry hummed in mild reprimand. "Play nice. She's trying, so you probably should too."

Donovan shot a surprised look at her present superior; though whether she was surprised by his support or his familiarity with the consultant, Harry couldn't tell. Meanwhile, Sherlock turned his astounded stare on Harry before his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Oh, I see! You can't seriously-"

"Black! Get over here!"

There was a startled squeal from across the road and the small group of investigators turned to watch as a rotund man in tweed ran away as fast as his little legs would carry him, crying;

"Sirius Black! Black back from beyond the grave! Merlin save us!"

There was a stunned pause before Harry tilted his head and smirked at his brother.

"Pay up. I told you they'd run."

Ignoring their baffled companions, Sherlock huffed and pulled out his phone to bombard Mycroft with irritable text messages about what had just occurred; ignoring the fact Mycroft had probably just been shown it from a street camera by his ever efficient PA.

"He didn't run from you," Sherlock sulked, practically stabbing his phone with his thumbs as he texted his vexation. "He ran from a poorly timed amalgamation of words."

"Po-tate-toe, Po-tah-toe! He still ran from the Black name! And you can remind Mycroft of that fact too! Because he owes me money as well," Harry grinned smugly as he finished, internally quite pleased that Sherlock seemed to finally have lost his chipper patience and was back to his usual self.

With a gleeful bounce in his step, Harry gestured to Donovan as he finally started moving towards the crime scene. Donovan hesitated a split second, her gaze still focused on the spot where the man in tweed had done a runner. She quickly shook herself from her daze and walked in step with Harry, ignoring Sherlock and, a no longer huffing, John trailing behind them. She clearly couldn't keep a hold of her curiosity though;

"Sir," she began with hesitation. "If you don't mind my asking, what just happened?"

"I'd be surprised if you didn't ask, if I'm honest," Harry chuckled at the Sergeant. He took a moment to figure out how to best phrase his answer.

"Black isn't an uncommon name, but there is a specific family with the surname who are particularly infamous in certain circles. A family who I'm distantly related to. It's not necessarily a connection to be proud of, considering people 'of Black blood' are all supposed to be varying degrees of mad. However, while my fleece my not be pristine, I am what one would call a white sheep in an otherwise Black family."

Donovan shot a wary, sceptical look at Harry for that answer but neither of them had a chance to say more on the topic.

"Black! Stop flirting and get over here!"

Harry rolled his eyes with a derisive snort; "Lestrade, if that's what you call flirting, then it's amazing you even got a girlfriend never mind managing to keep her until marriage."

Ignoring Lestrade's grumbling reminder about not wanting to talk about his marriage (and the hard shove Harry got for his comment), everyone got to work processing the scene. It took a while to take the forensic photos, check for I.D and other distinguishing marks and gather up the bodies and any other evidence lying around between Sherlock's insults, John's confusion and Lestrade's demands. Harry had resigned himself to play mediator between Sergeant Donovan and Sherlock but found she was doing her best to stay out of everyone's way while making her own examination of the crime scene. Harry somewhat wished he could do the same but ended up being dragged into the byplay with the Detective, the Doctor and the Consultant anyway.

Eventually, they finished processing and packing up everything to be taken back to the lab, the mortuary and/or the Office. Ironically enough, while the eccentrically dressed bodies were muggles, the other plain clothed body had a wand holster as well as a couple of sickles and some owl treats. Harry had a potential theory as to what happened that ran parallel to Sherlock's but decided to check in with the magical end of things before saying anything to either Lestrade or Sherlock. With Sergeant Donovan and the team gone with the evidence, it was just Sherlock, John and Lestrade left standing with Harry when his phone chimed.

While the other three men discussed who would follow what leads in the case, Harry opened his notifications to find an email from Mycroft with the subject:

For Posterity.

There was no other text in the email, just a video attachment with a preview still of the retreating wizard in tweed from the vantage point of a security camera. Harry probably would have left it to watch and form a reply later, had he not seen the curiously long running time on the video. Heeding his curiosity, Harry pressed play and proceeded to watch the Tweed Wizard's journey throughout the streets of London. What possessed the wizard to run instead of apparate, Harry had no idea but Tweed's hysterical passage incited mild panic in the hearts of his fellow magicals and dubious looks from those with more common sense.

The clip ended at the Leaky Cauldron with the final still showing the open door of the magical pub allowing a stream of panicked magicals to run out of the establishment like rats off a sinking ship. Before the clip even reached its end, it had Harry leaning on the closest wall for support crying with laughter. He refused to let Sherlock, John or Lestrade see his phone until the clip is finished but his incapacitated state against the wall allowed an impatient Sherlock to wrench the device out of his hand and start the clip again. The second screening of the clip didn't incite the same response in its new audience as it did in Harry but while John and Lestrade come away from it baffled, Sherlock supported a somewhat wicked expression. He doesn't so much field John and Lestrade's confused questions, but more accurately went on a highly detailed rant about the cowardice and idiocy that runs rampant through wizarding society. The results are the same however, as John and Lestrade both came away with a general understanding of what happened while Harry collected himself.

Harry's phone beeped again with another notification and Sherlock, having lost interest in it now that he's seen what held his brother's attention, carelessly tossed the device back to its owner. Used to this, Harry simply snatched it out of the air and opened the notification without a word while John and Lestrade interrupted Sherlock to chastise him for his carelessness with others belongings. Ignoring their bickering, Harry found another email from Mycroft, this time with the subject;

Peace Talks?

Again there was no other text but there were a number of self-explanatory documents relating to the censure and restraint of the general wizarding public, all of which were completely legal, if newly created just for him. Smiling at his political brother's special brand of care, Harry replied through text rather than email.

Good start.

So, this is kind of the end of an era for me. I posted the first chapter of this story on Fanfiction in January 2014 and it has been on my mind every year since.
While I have finished other multi-chapter stories, none have been as long as this and it seems strange that I'll not have to think about it again.

After how the last chapter turned out, I wasn't sure that this was an appropriate ending but it is a hopeful one which is what I wanted and was aiming for, so I'm happy with that.

Thank you again (seriously cannot thank you enough!) to everyone who stuck with it, favourited, followed and left comments even when you weren't sure if this story would be updated. Consider yourselves all virtually hugged and loved!

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it! Stay safe!