While John waited for Sherlock to arrive, he sighed heavily as he watched his daughter play innocently with her toys on the floor. Even though it had been over two years since her death, it was at times like these that he really missed Mary. She had been taken from both him and Rosie way too soon. Mary was also very intuitive and her unusual background and skill set might have helped her to understand exactly what was going on with their daughter. John knew that he certainly could not figure what was happening!

It had all started several weeks earlier when Rosie did not want to eat her dinner. She had fussed and whinged until John had to leave the room for just a moment to regain his composure. Being a single father was difficult and although he loved his daughter dearly, she was quite headstrong – just like her mother had been! However, he did not want to lose his temper with her. That was why he walked away. After a couple of deep breaths, however, he was back, and completely unsurprised to see that Rosie's dinner now decorated the wall. However, what did alarm him was that said wall was twelve feet away from her chair and that the food splatter had formed a very distinctive frowny face. He rationalized that his three year old daughter must have walked over there and purposely smeared her food into that shape before coming back to the table. Really, what else could have happened? he thought to himself, carefully ignoring the fact that the pattern was too high up on the wall for Rosie to reach.

The next instance was during bedtime about a week later. John had tucked Rosie into bed and read her a bedtime story. Afterwards, however, she insisted on sleeping with her stuffed bunny. John remembered that he had seen it on the sofa right before they came up the stairs. Therefore, he went back down to collect it for her. To his surprise, though, it was not there! He searched the entire first floor for it before he finally just selected a stuffed elephant and hoped that his daughter would be content with that. When he took it up to her, however, she was already fast asleep and cuddled up with the same stuffed bunny for which he had just been searching! John felt uneasy about it, but eventually determined that she must have just slipped back down the stairs, found the bunny, and then climbed back up to bed without him noticing. Yes, that must have been what happened! he thought, as he tried to be calm and rational about the situation.

Over the next few weeks, he noticed other odd occurrences around his daughter. One afternoon, John found Rosie munching on her favorite biscuits, even though they had been stored on a shelf in the pantry that was way too high for her to reach – even with a chair. One morning, they arrived at the park after a short walk only for John to realize that Rosie was wearing a purple dress. However, he could have sworn that it was pink when they had left the house. Incidents like these certainly were confusing. Nevertheless, John deemed them harmless enough as he continued to try and to ignore the feelings of increasing anxiety that rose up within him at every new situation.

However, matters came to a head the morning that John went to wake up his daughter and she was not in her bed. He tore through the house and frantically called her name, but she was nowhere to be seen. He immediately grabbed the phone to call Greg Lestrade, but first decided to check one more place first. Therefore, he unlocked the back door and scanned the small fenced garden area…and there she was! Rosie sat on the ground and was happily engaged with petting the neighborhood cats that all sat around her in a perfect circle. With a cry of relief, John scooped up his daughter and, without sparing even a glance at the cats that glared at him disdainfully, carried her straight to his surgery. There he performed every test that he could think of on his little girl. Something had to be the cause of all of these strange happenings and John, the doctor, thought that if it had a medical root, then he could cure it. However, all of the tests came back negative. There was nothing medically wrong with her, at all. In fact, Rosie was an extremely healthy child.

By this point, John was at his wits end. He was confused, scared, and could no longer ignore the unexplainable things that frequently happened around his daughter. He needed help. Rosie's strange behavior was a mystery. Therefore, he finally called the one man who loved mysteries and had solved stranger cases than this one before…his best friend, Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock arrived at the Watson home quickly and scooped up his goddaughter. She laughed at her "Unk Shuluk" while he made silly faces at her. Despite his stress, John…as always…was amazed at how truly different the detective was with the small child than he was with anyone else. With her, the usually standoffish man always seemed more carefree…more normal. As if to prove the point, Sherlock continued to play with the little girl for a few minutes before he set her down and watched her happily toddle off. He then turned to her worried father and completely surprised him with his next sentence.

"So…you have finally observed that our Rosie is a bit different, have you?"

At first, John was infuriated when Sherlock told him that he had known for months that Rosie could make strange things happen. However, he soon calmed down when he realized that Sherlock did not seem perturbed at all. Whatever was wrong must not be dangerous to his daughter because he knew without a doubt that Sherlock loved Rosie almost as much as he did. The man would never let anything happen to her…and that was why he had been named godfather. However, Sherlock would not answer John's questions, either, which quickly caused his frustration to return.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock, just tell me what is going on with my daughter!" John finally forced out between his gritted teeth.

"Believe it or not, I don't think that I am the most qualified person to explain it to you." Sherlock said. "I have many strengths, but alas, Rosie's issue is the one area in which I cannot excel." He then paused for a moment and looked over at John smugly. John knew that "I know something that you do not know" look very well. He had often seen it on his best mate's face. Before he had long to ponder that though, the detective continued to speak. "However," he said, "fortunately for you, I know just the person who does." With that mysterious reply, he pulled out his mobile and quickly speed dialed a number. After a moment, a female voice answered. She did not get to say much more than "Hello?" before Sherlock began to speak again.

"It's my goddaughter," he said simply. "You were correct. Her father has noticed…and he is a bit…emotional."

"I will be right there," the voice said. "What's the address?" Sherlock gave her the street name and number before he disconnected the call and pocketed the phone. He then looked at John expectantly.

"Sherlock," John said quietly, as he tried not to lose his temper with his best friend. "Who the hell was that? What does she have to do with Rosie?" Sherlock, however did not answer. He just gave him an enigmatic smile and held up a finger in the silent gesture to wait a moment. Just then, a knock came at the door and a wide smile crossed Sherlock's face.

"That would be her," he said and went to open the door to let in the visitor. "Hermione," he cordially greeted the woman who stood on the stoop. "Welcome!"

"Hello, Sherlock," she replied cheerfully with an answering grin. "I'm sorry that it took me so long, but I wasn't familiar with the street, so I had to stop and look for the right house number." The young woman stepped in, quickly surveyed the room, and smiled brightly again when her gaze landed on John. "Hello," she greeted him warmly. "You must be Rosie's father. Sherlock has told me a lot about the two of you. I'm Hermione Granger."

At first, John could do nothing but look at the new arrival in shock. Sherlock had called her just a moment ago, and yet she was already in his house! How could she have possibly gotten there so quickly? He looked at the mysterious woman closely and guessed that she was about ten years or so his junior. He also could not help but to notice that she was quite pretty. Her loose lively brown hair drew his eyes immediately, but then they were captured by her warm amber eyes which practically sparkled with personality, and her beautiful beaming smile, instead. For some reason, he almost stopped breathing for a minute and could not help but to stare at her until he heard Sherlock clear his throat with amusement. Suddenly, John remembered where he was and why she was there. He forced himself to stop thinking about how attractive the woman was and instead focused on what really mattered... Rosie.

"Ms. Granger, can you please tell me what is wrong with my daughter?" he pleaded, as his confusion showed clearly on his face.

"Please call me Hermione," she replied gently, "and I am sure that there is absolutely nothing wrong with your daughter, at all. May I see her first, though… please?"

John glanced at Sherlock to see how he responded to such a request and felt reassured again when the detective nodded in easy acquiescence. Consequently, John gestured for Hermione to precede him into the lounge and kitchen area where Rosie had been playing while they talked. Sherlock followed behind them.

As they crossed into the other room, however, John's eyes drifted downwards and he could not help but to notice how nicely Hermione filled out her jeans as he walked behind her - until he realized that Sherlock was watching him again with that damnable smirk upon his face. That brought his attention back to where it should have been all along and he watched intently as the newcomer sat down unceremoniously on the floor next to his daughter and started to play with her.

The next thing he knew, Hermione had asked Rosie about her favorite toy - which he knew was the giant stuffed lion up in her room. It was bigger than she was, so that was why it always stayed upstairs. All of a sudden though he blinked in confusion when he realized that same giant stuffed lion was in the room with them! Nobody had left the room to get it, yet there it was! Startled, he looked up into Hermione's kind and knowing eyes as she nodded at him and Sherlock before she focused back on her conversation with Rosie again. John looked over at Sherlock, as well, and the questions were clear in his eyes.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?" he whispered in disbelief.

"It's elementary, my dear Watson," the other man answered just as quietly. "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

"But…it can't be…" John stammered a bit.

"You were right, as usual, you know." John looked up at the sound of her voice as Hermione rejoined the men since Rosie was happily engaged with bouncing up and down on her lion. The woman walked over to Sherlock and bumped his shoulder with hers in a friendly way as he smirked at her. Even through the shock of what he had just seen and realized, John still wondered how the two of them knew each other and how they had achieved such a comfortable camaraderie.

To be sure they aren't…he shook his head at the bewildering jolt of jealousy that shot through him at the mere thought. In a moment, however, that thought was replaced with one just as confusing as he stared wonderingly at the thin carved wooden stick that the woman had somehow pulled out of her sleeve. At any rate, he did not know how to feel about what he was sure she was about to say, not even when she gently took his hand and looked him straight in the eye.

"It really is accidental magic!" she stated. Then she smiled widely as she exclaimed happily, "Congratulations! You have a witch in the family!"

For his part, John sat there stunned at the pronouncement and found that he could not make a sound. However, Hermione seemed to expect his reaction and proceeded to perform some charms and spells for him to see in order to help ease his disbelief. First, she revived the dying flowers on the mantle, then she levitated a stack of Rosie's books off of the table and had them place themselves back in the bookcase. Next, much to Rosie's delight, she made the stuffed lion jump up and dance on his hind legs. Then to finish off the demonstration, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and transformed into a sea otter. The little otter squeaked, ran over to John and begged to be picked up. The man did so, somewhat nervously, but he still ran his hand over the otter's fur and scratched it under its chin. He smelled the slightly briny smell of the sea on it and felt its rapid heartbeat against the arm where he held it. Therefore, he had no doubt that the animal was real. As if to prove the that point, little otter stood up and gently touched its nose to his. Then it looked pointedly at the ground. John realized what it wanted and sat it down. In just a few seconds, Hermione stood in its place.

"Well…the otter thing is new," Sherlock remarked dryly, after her display was over.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't a skill I had acquired yet when we were in Bulgaria." Hermione said absentmindedly while she smoothed her clothing since they tended to get a bit wrinkled during a transformation. "I just received my full animagus status about a year ago."

"You didn't think to tell me…or show me?" the man sulked – mainly because he had been unable to deduce that she had such an ability.

"You didn't ask!" she snarked back before she turned to John in order to bestow that charming smile on him again. "I'm so sorry, John. However, I'm sure that you of all people know how much Sherlock hates not knowing about something…and they called me an insufferable know-it-all back in school."

When Sherlock had the nerve to laugh at that, she poked him in the chest with her index finger. "Hush it, you!" she exclaimed. Even John, in the midst of all the shock and surprise, had to crack a smile at the verbal scrimmage between his best friend and the fascinating woman whom he had just met – the one who was also apparently a witch!