Congratulations, Ave~ ^^ potter!lock. Sherlock visiting Molly's house. Him, freaking out because of her twin brothers. I'd love to read Molly having a simple but happy family. All muggles of course. Anything, love. Anything u write wud be wonderful!

— sherlolly29

Summer break. The time of the year when children finally get to live their lives to the fullest. Great changes can happen when given their freedom, good and bad. Love is most often to bloom during summer, love is more likely to show itself under the hot sun. A lot of stories can be told of what happens during summer breaks but this is the story of just one boy and his fears.

It all started with Sherlock Holmes, very unlike himself, practically on his knees, begging for his best friend John to listen to him. "I can't go alone," he whined when the older boy didn't give in.

"Are you scared?" John laughed.

This endearment seemed to give Sherlock back a bit of his old sense. "Of course not! Don't be ridiculous!" He smoothed the front of his shirt, frowning.

Sherlock Holmes had given Molly Hooper a promise. A promise to visit her home during the summer break. A promise he now very much regretted. But a promise he intended to keep even though he knew that the trip would end up being a complete disaster.

John rolled his eyes. "Then why can't you go alone? It's not like her family is going to eat you."

"Because they're muggles, John," Sherlock exclaimed, waving his arms around, "and unlike you I don't have any experience with muggles. I'm pureblood!"

John tried to hold back laughter. He had never seen his best friend so upset before. It's almost like he was panicking because he was going to meet his future parents-in-law. But it was not like Molly and Sherlock were involved like that.

He made his friend sit on his bed, forcing him down by pushing on his shoulders. Sherlock seemed to be in a completely other world. "Hey! Sherlock! Look at me!" He waved his hand in front of his face. The dark-haired boy lifted his eyes, a sad shine in them, making him look like a lost puppy. John shook his head and kneeled in front of Sherlock, like he was talking to a little child.

"Muggles are smart. And I expect a family who has raised Molly to be one of the nice kind of families. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

"But..." Sherlock started but died out when he realized that John was right. John raised his eyebrow, daring him to say anything. Nothing came.

"See? You're going to be fine!" He patted his shoulder and rose. Sherlock just sighed deeply.

Dear Sherlock,

Summer break has been surprisingly boring so far, so I thought that maybe you'd want to come over when you're free. If you want to, of course. My family is looking forward to seeing you. Especially my brothers! I've told them so much about you and they're very excited. If you choose to come, that means...

If you still want to come then I am free practically the whole month. Just choose a date! You can stay for the night as well, we have enough room, so you don't have to worry about getting home late. I know you can apparate but a lot of things are different at night... Not that I'm implying that you're scared of the dark! Not that! It's just... Well not important anyway!

Eagerly waiting for your reply,

Molly xxx

Sherlock folded the letter, which had already started to fall apart because of the constant opening and closing, and put it in the back pocket of his black jeans. His overnight bag was thrown over his shoulder together with his black leather jacket. He tried to tame his wild curls a little, to at least make a better impression on Molly's parents, before he gave up.

Nervously he walked towards the house that Molly had described to him in detail and opened the front gate. Taking in deep breaths he stopped before the door. His finger almost touched the doorbell button when the door burst open and a huge smile greeted him.

"Sherlock!" Molly cheerfully shouted and jumped to hug him.

Sherlock coughed to clear his voice. "Molly," he said as he hesitantly patted on her back when she held her arms around his neck.

"Oh sorry!" The girl let him go and smiled brightly at him. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were shining with happiness. She was wearing a short floral dress and her hair was flowing freely down her shoulders. She looked beautiful.

Sherlock let his gaze shift over her for some seconds and when his eyes finally met hers he could see the blush on her cheeks get a deep shade of red. She wrung her hands as they awkwardly stood on the doorstep, not saying anything.

"Well," she broke the silence, "I'm very happy that you came."

Finally Sherlock smiled back. It was more like a smirk actually, playful and mischievous. "Well you seemed so lost without me. How could I not answer to your desperate pleas?"

Molly swatted his shoulder lightly and laughed. "I've missed you, Sherlock."

He huffed. "You sound like we haven't seen each other in years. The school ended just a month ago."

"It felt like more." Molly's eyes seemed distant as if she was looking back in time, remembering things in the past. Sherlock only rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you going to invite me in like a proper hostess?"

She snapped out of her daze and smiled widely again. "Of course! Come in! Mum and dad are dying to meet you!"

Sher grabbed his free arm and pulled him inside the house.

Mr and Mrs Hooper were very nice and reminded Sherlock of his own parents. Mostly his father. They had almost silly smiles on their faces as they greeted him in the cozy expanse of the living room. Sherlock could immediately see where Molly had got her eyes and hair. Her mother looked just like her.

He didn't expect Molly's parents to understand everything about him at once. However so far he quite liked them. They had done nothing to put him off over the course of the ten minutes he had seen them and they seemed to be rather intelligent. "Like the daughter, so are the parents," he thought to himself, giving them a small hesitant smile.

Mr Hooper smiled back and put his hand on his wife's shoulder. "Come now, Dawn. We should start with dinner. Chris and Arthur should be home soon."

"Yes. You don't mind eating outside in the garden, do you, Sherlock?" Dawn Hooper asked it with a same kind of hopeful expression that Molly usually had when she wanted something from him. The expression that no matter how hard Sherlock tried he could never say no to. And this time he even had no reason why he should.

"No. I have no problem with that, Mrs Hooper," he politely replied, adding another smile in the end.

"Wonderful! Then we can do some barbecue. Let's go now, husband, and leave the kids to catch up."

When the parents left the room to go to the kitchen Molly grabbed his hand again and pulled him to the stairs.

"Thank you for being nice, Sherlock. I don't mean to be rude but I saw nightmares about how this would turn out," she laughed and took him upstairs where she opened the first door to the left.

"So did I," Sherlock muttered under his breath. Out loud he said: "I saw no reason to be impolite. Your parents are perfectly okay."

"Thank you? I guess?" She stepped into the room and Sherlock could tell from the first glance that she was its owner.

The walls of the room were like her dress, covered with a floral wallpaper. Everything was pink and yellow. On the windowsill seat there were a bunch of soft toys, most of them cats and rabbits. A vase of colourful fake flowers decorated her neatly organized desk and the books in her shelf were put in order by their size. Her large bed was covered with a patchwork quilt and at least five pillows.

"I think my eyes are bleeding," Sherlock said when he had looked around in horror.

Molly only rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up!"

The boy put his bag and jacket on the floor by the door and stepped further into the room. Only then he started noticing little things that turned this room really Molly's. The magic.

He walked to her large oaken bookshelf and took something off it.

Molly was curious. "What are you looking at?" She went behind him and peeked over his shoulder. He was holding a picture frame. Inside there was a magically moving picture of four young persons: Molly, Sherlock, John and Mary. It was taken in Diagon Alley at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour last summer, as Sherlock recognized it. All four of them were laughing at something while they were sitting behind a table, a bowl of ice cream in front of everyone.

"I love this picture," Molly sighed. "You're smiling here."

Sherlock didn't reply. He was looking at the Molly in the picture. Her eyes were closed as she laughed, clutching her stomach with one hand, her other hand was wrapped around Sherlock's shoulder for support. The Sherlock on the picture was looking right at Molly, deep laugh lines prominent on his face as he chuckled at something.

Molly by his side giggled. "Honestly, I don't even remember what we were laughing at."

"Neither do I," Sherlock admitted. He put the picture back on the shelf where he had taken it before and turned around to look at the other magical objects in the room.

Before he could take one step further, a blond boy jumped in the room, followed by another boy who looked just like the first one. A shiver of horror ran through Sherlock's spine. "The twins," he cried in his head.

Molly made her way to them and put her arms around the taller boys' waists. "Arthur, Chris, meet Sherlock," she introduced and brought them closer so that they could shake hands.

Both of the twins reached out their hands at once, smiling mischievously. "Sherlock Holmes. We've heard so much about you," the one who entered first smugly said. The second one continued: "I'm Chris and that's Arthur."

Sherlock shook their hands and nodded his greeting, unable to say a word.

Molly had left to go downstairs to check on the food, leaving Sherlock alone with her older brothers.

"Say, Sherlock," one of them, Chris, said and put his hand on his shoulder, turning him in his direction. Arthur stood next to him. "What do you think about pranks?"

"Depends on which kind of pranks you mean," Sherlock answered, pushing down his fear. He had no rational excuses to be afraid of the Hooper brothers, but for some unknown reason whenever Molly had told him about them his fear had only grown. The singular thought of older brothers who could show up with rolling pins in their hands behind his door when he had done something not-good to Molly... It was like a phobia to Sherlock.

Arthur looked at Chris. "I like his answer. Not agreeing, not denying. Standing on neutral ground."

"Hmm yes," Chris agreed. "A slippery fellow."

Sherlock huffed, forgetting his disturbing thoughts for a second. "If you had been more specific, maybe you would have got a straight answer as well. I can't base my thoughts and opinions on something so vague."

Chris and Arthur looked at each other again. The latter rephrased his question: "What do you think about pranks on our sister?"

"I think anyone who wants to prank Molly is either an idiot or has a death wish. She's a witch," Sherlock answered, understanding that they actually wanted to hear his answer. He recalled Molly's immaculate hexes when she had been angry at some perverted boys at school who had tried to harass a couple of second year girls and remembered his promise to himself to never be the one on the receiving end of her wrath.

"Do we like him?" Chris asked.

"We like him," Arthur answered.

Chris patted Sherlock's back and laughed loudly, throwing back his head. Arthur just chuckled.

"We were just testing you, Sherlock," he said and jumped on his sisters bed to sit. "You see Molly had an almost-boyfriend once..."

"We didn't like him," Chris added, walking to a bedpost and leaning on it. "Turned out he was just doing a prank. At her expense."

"And we aren't very fond of pranks."

"Or guys like him."

"But you seem okay."

"So we'll let you off the hook."

"Unless you change our minds."

"In that case..."

Sherlock stopped them before they could complement. "I have no intention on playing any prank on Molly. Ever. I would gain absolutely nothing from that and it would be disrespectful and humiliating to both of us."

"Good. That would save us time," Arthur said and smiled again, this time genuinely without a trace of joke. Chris chuckled lightly.

"It's nice to meet you, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock decided that his fear had not been irrational since the Hooper brothers were indeed quite dangerous enemies to have (like their sister). But since he had no intention of ever getting on their bad side, he cast aside his nervousness and made up his mind. He liked them. He liked how they made their opinion clear, how they without any hidden agenda were willing to protect Molly. And that made Sherlock respect them.

"It's nice to meet you, too," he said, feeling more-or-less relaxed for the first time in this house.

When Molly got back to the boys she loudly announced that the food was almost ready and they could go down. The twins raced out of the room while Sherlock took his time to wait up on Molly. She walked to her wardrobe and took out a white cherry-patterned cardigan.

"I always get so cold in the evenings," she laughed and put it on.

He knew it was ridiculous but just in case Molly was still cold he wanted to keep something near to give her, so he picked up his jacket from the floor.

This time Molly didn't take his hand when they walked downstairs. She lead him to the door next to the staircase that took them outside on the Hoopers' residence's backyard terrace. There was a round table and six chairs set up behind it, two of them already occupied by the twins. Dawn Hooper was setting the table, putting plates and glasses in front of each seat. Mr Hooper was poking meat that was sizzling on a some sort of a steaming device with charcoal.

"What is that?" Sherlock quietly asked from Molly, not wanting to show his ignorance out loud.

She smiled. "It's a barbecue. Used to grill stuff."

"Don't muggles use ovens?" He was confused.

"It gives a nice flavour. It should be ready soon so you'll get to taste it yourself."

Molly took a seat next to Arthur and waved Sherlock over to sit next to her. Mrs Hooper put a large bowl of salad to the centre of the table and Mr Hooper picked the almost burnt pieces of meat from the grillrest and placed them on a plate.

"Dig in, children!" Mrs Hooper sang and took her seat next to Sherlock, letting the bowl of salad go from hand to hand, so that everyone could take their portion. Molly put a piece of the grilled meat on Sherlock's plate and a couple to herself. The boy prodded it with a fork but then, wearing a very sceptic expression, cut it smaller and put it in his mouth. You could see his face change to approval. The Hoopers, who had been carefully observing his face, cheered.

If we wanted to tell the story of the whole evening, we'd need to delve deep into the conversation topics brought up and we'd spend copious amount of time trying to describe what happened every second. It would be interesting to some but boring to the others. So we'll skip the storytelling to the part where the sun has set and the cold of the night has forced the company to retire inside.

Sherlock and Molly were both quite tired. The girl clutched the boy's jacket around her, inhaling deeply the scent of leather and something distinctly Sherlock: a mixture of bread, spices and a very faint odour of thyme. Molly laughed at herself in her thoughts for comparing Sherlock to food, even if he looked absolutely edible... Her thoughts were running wild this evening.

When they got back to her room, Molly froze on the doorstep. "I forgot to make you a bed," she whispered.

"Oh." Sherlock stood next to her. The idea of sleeping on the hard floor did not appeal to him. Molly took his jacket off and gave it back to him, immediately starting to fuss. She took out some blankets from her wardrobe and laid them on the floor, next to the bed.

"Take the bed. I would have gotten you a mattress but I need dad to get it out and I think he's sleeping already," she said, her blush not visible in the dark room.

Sherlock's thoughts ran particularly slowly. "But it's your bed..." He suppressed a yawn.

"I know. I sleep in it when I'm at home. It's time for a change. I'll be on the floor."

Sherlock blinked but by that time Molly was out of the room across the hall in the bathroom, giving time for him to change his clothes. He took off his jeans and shirt, putting on his pajamas. After looking at the bed contemplatively he pushed off the pillows, took off the duvet and climbed in. His nose was immediately filled with Molly's scent. "This is going to be a long night," he muttered, pulling the blanket over his face.

Molly made her way quietly back in her room. She saw the cuckoon on her bed and smiled. Then, sighing, she sat on the makeshift bed in the floor and took the pillows and the duvet to make herself more comfortable. Unsuccessfully. After five minutes of hearing Molly constantly change her position, Sherlock pulled the blanket off him.

"Get in," he commanded, making room.

Molly stared back, wide eyed. "What? Oh no, I'm okay..."

The boy huffed. "Obviously not. Get in." His voice didn't allow any arguments.

Blushing even more than before, Molly got up and slid herself between the sheets, right next to Sherlock. The soft mattress tipped, so

Sherlock put his arm around her and pulled her closer so they wouldn't lose balance. Molly put her hands on his chest, supporting her head on his collarbone.

"Better?" he asked, having difficulties trying to hide his smugness.

The girl hit him lightly. "Oh shut up!"

Sherlock chuckled. Neither of them talked for a while, nor did they fall asleep. Sherlock traced patterns on Molly's back, feeling the soft material of her nightshirt. His fingers brushed the tips of her hair and the girl shivered slightly, barely noticeably, when he slid his hand to caress her chestnut locks.

Finally he broke the silence. "Your brothers told me about something..." he started.

"Hm? Yes?" Molly lifted her chin to look at him but his gaze was turned away, looking out of the window.

"They told me that a guy had... treated you badly... Something to do with a prank...?"

"Oh?" She was surprised. "Why would they tell you about that? That was ages ago."

"Hmm... I just wanted to know what became of him."

"Well I'm not sure. I haven't seen him after that. Arthur and Chris scared him off."

"Good... Good."

"It was nothing bad or anything. Just a joke. My brothers can be a bit too harsh sometimes."

It was so like Molly to justify the harm-doing. She was always so selfless and kindhearted, evoking the instinct to protect in Sherlock. He didn't reply, just pulled her closer to him. Suddenly it was Molly who broke the silence with the most unexpected question.

"You haven't had a girlfriend, right?"

"Wha— What? No! Why are you—? What?" Sherlock stuttered, very uncomfortable with the subject she was approaching. Molly, on the other hand was staring softly at him, having had enough of them tiptoeing around each other, when now it was clear as day to her that the possibility that Sherlock liked her romantically was higher than ever.

"Would you like to have one?" There was determination in her way of speech that melted away any objections Sherlock might have had on his tongue.

So he replied clearly, without hesitation, wanting to resolve their situation as well. "Only if it's you, Molly Hooper."

During this summer break Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper found their love. They found it in each other. And now everyone who knew them could sigh: "Finally!"

The End