My dears, here is the last translated NOT BETED chapter. Finally. Finally I'm finished with the first part (well.. aside from the fact that it's not beted. Sorry-sorry, but you have to bear all the mistakes).

Sadly I won't even start translating the second part (it has 25 chaps! with bonus) if I won't find beta to work with - because there is no point in spoiling the text with a bad translation. There will be only side story that Samui san (she was so great in helping me and working with me - I can't even express in words) started betting but we never finished as she was very-very busy.. eahh(((

Thanks for all the support, for all the kudos and comments - it was very important for me! Thanks for reading even if it took me so long to finally finish posting it here!

You are all great)) Thanks!

"This is dragon's gold, there is little good from it," snorted Holmes.

"And still it can be used," John replied quietly. He even knew what good it could be used for. But the probability that all this wealth would not be confiscated by the Ministry and forwarded to its own needs was too small for him to even spend breath voicing his wishes. Holmes just looked at him strangely, as if reading his thoughts.

"It is useless; anyone who wants to take possession of it will catch a dragon disease."

"Sherlock, this is of course well known public fact. As well as that you just need to divide and spent it to break the spell."

"You really think so?"

"Umm… Yes," and now John was no longer sure of that. He doubted his scarce knowledge about dragons and their wealth. John frowned and looked reproachfully at Holmes who just shrugged obviously pleased with himself.

Someone stopped near and threw a bright orange blanket on his shoulders.

"You were lucky, John, that you were not tempted, or otherwise you would become Thrall," brown eyes of Inspector Lestrade shone with surprise and respect that flattered John. Because of their contract with Holmes John hoped that Lestrade would be his inspector as well, and he wanted to leave a positive impression of himself despite of everything that had happened.

" I did not know for sure, though suspected something similar. Good thing I was not attracted to all that glittering trinkets."

"Still, you should not be here right now, you still have some residual magic on you, and it could backfire. Come on, I'll walk you to the entrance."

John nodded gratefully, and wrapped in a bright blanket given to him; he followed Inspector leaving Holmes to dramatically swing his coat while enthusiastically explaining something to the agents.

They agreed that they would say in their testimony, and then Holmes called Gregson to briefly explain the situation. Not being able to touch anything they had only to wait, and exactly that they were doing until the arrival of agents of the Ministry. Black mantle of agents finally diluted impossible glow of all the gold and jewels, and John was secretly pleased. He was almost blinded with unnerving yellow brightness causing him slight dizziness.

Therefore, taking advantage of Inspector's convenient proposal he hastened to leave the vaults of the cave to get him through all the corridors and passages to the exit. All free space near it has been cluttered with the familiar black cars; there were also lot of people around, and their uniforms practically merged with the evening twilight.

John gladly gulped offered hot drink, the taste of which was more like any herbal tincture, rather than tea. Now he frankly did not care about the taste, the main thing was that he, at last, was holding something hot in his hands. And he did not refuse another batch, this time savoring the hot liquid in small sips.

"What happened after I left Holmes with you and agents?" Curiosity overcame fatigue and hunger, though he would not mind something to chew on and to listen to the story at the same time.

"He hid important evidence from the agents. Gregson was furious, so Holmes was formally charged in the obstruction of the investigation and suspicion of illegal necromancy. And then in the Department it was found out that you have not got to the Registration. I never thought I would ever see him so angry and agitated. He's brilliant – we perfectly know that. And we are very, very lucky if he ever becomes more agreeable, but he was really worried about you."

"What will happen to him ?"

"Do not worry; he got away with even more."

"…Ok. I'll take your word for it; you know him longer than me."

"I know him for five years, but this, unfortunately, does not mean anything ... How are you feeling?"

"To be honest, I'm just glad it's over. Although I have yet to have an unpleasant contact with representatives of the Ministry."

"I think this can be avoided."

John shuddered. His life has way too many dark mages and creatures that have seen him in moments of weakness. And he hoped that he would find something to avoid it in the future.

Near silently, as if out of the thin air, came a man with whom he already had the dubious pleasure of meeting. John looked around in surprise, but no one paid attention to them like the appearance of the Necromancer at the crime scene was commonplace. Perhaps it was. He clearly was not an ordinary officer.

"Mr. Holmes," Lestrade quietly greeted the Necromancer and looked away.

"Inspector."

"Holmes? One more Holmes?" John was confused: no doubt eventful day got to him. He was too nervous, spent too much energy and just wanted a bit of peace and, ideally, supper, to slowly and thoughtfully reflect on everything that happened. But now everything became clearer and even obvious.

Suddenly near his other side materialized another tall, dark figure. And junior Holmes knew how to arise out of nowhere even better than the older one.

"What are you doing here?"

"Given that you had done, I am surprised by such question."

"Your intervention is not needed."

"If Maman hears the news about your antics, she will be very upset."

"Me? I will upset her?"

"I said if."

Clearly half of a conversation slopped from John, because for sure there was another dialogue only understandable to those who belonged to the Holmes family; and that also could explain exchanged glances between brothers.

"Sherlock, where are your manners?"

"John, this is my older brother, Necromancer Mycroft Holmes," Sherlock said quietly staring inquisitively at the surprised face of John.

"Yes, we were never presented to each other. Unfortunate mistake that, well, my brother has already fixed."

"So, when you said that you are constantly worried about him, it meant that you really worried?"

"Imagine a family Christmas dinner," this question seemed to be aimed at John.

"Yes. No! I do not even want to imagine this," John was truly horrified by picture which immediately was drawn by his vivid imagination.

"Whatever it was, now you can see for yourself, Sherlock is not one of those people who live a quiet safe life. It is so frustrating for our dear mother. And she still hopes for grandchildren. Such a disappointment for her for obvious reasons."

He had nothing to say to that, so John decided to fill the awkward silence with another sip of hot herbal liquid. He was not in a position to speculate on other people's hints.

"And again what are you doing here, brother mine?"

"I'm worried about you. But this is only one reason. Other relates directly to you, dear John. You won't mind if I call you that?" for John it surely did not sound like a question.

To feel the effects of cold, appraising look on him he would not call a pleasurable experience. Mycroft Holmes made a strong impression. He was almost as tall as his younger brother. A perfect suit, pale face, which was not exactly beautiful, but it was interesting and captivating to look at. But the dead had no place among the living, and no spell could hide the fact, who were now looking at John from the depth of blue watery eyes.

"How can I help?" with growing cold inside he tried to give the person at least some semblance of friendliness.

"Oh, that would be me useful to you, dear John. We almost lost hope that someone will agree to work with Sherlock and... live with him. Let me present to you my humble gift. After all, I have not congratulated the two of you with the beginning of a new stage in your lives."

John tried to pretend that he was not surprised by sudden appearance of the familiar witch. Anthea without saying a word just handed him a heavy envelope. Inside, in addition to his personal belongings and the discharge mobile laid a plastic card, which should not have been there, but now has promised to greatly simplify his life. John repeatedly ran his eyes over the printed laminated lines. He did not expect that in the graph class would continue to be a «Healer». But this simple fact has granted him an incomparable sense of relief.

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes."

"Just Mycroft, please. We are practically family now."

"Now it is time for us to go," unceremonious interference of Sherlock was more in time than ever. "Inspector Lestrade kindly agreed to drop us to the Baker Street, so your help is not necessary, Mycroft."

"I did not know I was that nice," but if the Inspector had objections, he wisely decided not to voice them, not wanting to get stuck in the disassembly of Holmes's brothers. He just threw the keys to Sherlock. "Go ahead, I'll catch up."

Lestrade's gray Toyota parked by the wayside sharply contrasted with the polished black mass of other cars. Even without knowing what kind of car Inspector had, John was able to set it apart from others, so obviously it was. The idea that Sherlock saw the world around him like this was stunning in its simplicity. While they were trying to see something beyond their own noses, for dark mage all was clear as day and was folding into a coherent chain of logical deductions and reasoning.

"Do you have more brothers or sisters?"

"No. And this is not important now."

"And what is important then? " Of course, he wanted to know as much as possible about the person with whom he connected his life, though not in the sense which was hinted by older Holmes. He hoped that he was wrong. Or it would be…. John did not want to think about that now.

"Moriarty."

The answer did not surprise John, although he still believed that they should not have hidden that name from the investigation. But Holmes was able to convince him that he really did not need the extra interest of the Ministry to the mysterious dark mage. John agreed with Sherlock's rather unflattering assessment of the competence of the agents and officials of the Ministry.

"Do you know of him?"

"No, but this way it's even better. Finally something is happening, something interesting."

Before getting into the car, John looked back for the last time at the old dilapidated building, barely visible in dusk and leaves, which has become the last refuge of the once majestic creatures.

He wanted to remember and never forget this place.