"I'm sorry what?!" This came from the black haired woman, the one who had dubbed Sherlock as a 'freak'.

Harry grinned cheekily, deciding to play on their confusion and gave a mock bow. "Nice to meet you."

They spluttered whilst the younger man seemed to be oscillating between staring at Sherlock and himself intensely. He hoped it didn't give him whiplash. From the corner of his eye, he could Sherlock's lip twitching in amusement and this gave him a boost of confidence.

"Oh my god, he's procreated!"

"Are you a serial killer?"

"Have you been kidnapped?"

"He does look just like the spit of Holmes though."

"Of course he's not a serial killer, Donovan!" The last comment came from Lestrade who seemed to have aged ten years in the past ten minutes. He paused and then turned to Sherlock, "Sherlock, he looks way too old to be your son." He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "If this is some elaborate joke, then I swear to God, I am banning you from cases for the rest of this year".

Harry turned to Sherlock who had stood up tall in defiance but it was John who answered: "Greg, he is. He's just arrived due to ah, unforeseen circumstances and I'm sure Harry would appreciate your team not calling him a serial killer eh?" His words seemed to contain an undertone of warning which were picked up on as the woman had the decency to appear slightly ashamed.

"I have only just become aware of Harry's existence as his mother has just recently passed away. It occurred during one of my… lost years". Sherlock raised an eyebrow meaningfully at those last words and Lestrade seemed to straighten and nod in a state of numbed understanding.

Harry stared interestedly, wondering what that had meant and why Lestrade seemed to trust that implicitly without any further questions.

"So who are you guys anyway?" Harry asked curiously.

Sherlock stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, which he just barely managed not to flinch at. Pointing in a clockwise manner he reeled off: "DI Lestrade, Sergeant Sally Donovan and Sergeant Ian Dimmock of Scotland Yard".

"Although, I am sure they are awfully busy right now and don't have time for this impromptu… house visit" John queried, cutting through the end of Sherlock's sentence.

Sherlock nodded briskly, "Yes, yes! Crimes for you to find and then wait for me to solve."

Harry laughed lightly which seemed to bring the woman, Sally out of her reverie.

Lestrade shrugged, and motioned for the other two to follow. On their way out, both he and Dimmock shook his hand which he hesitantly returned whilst Sally, hastily gave him her phone number, and promised that "he probably wouldn't go to prison if he had admitted any crimes".

"Sherlock, I will be stopping by though in the next couple of days" Lestrade called out as they left, loudly clattering down the stairs.

There was a long and somewhat awkward pause which proceeded their departure until mercifully, John Watson said the magic words: "Anybody for tea?"

An hour later - and only one explosion, two punches thrown and three threats of calling the police – had vastly helped Harry to feel a lot more comfortable about this whole surreal scenario.

"So let me get this straight, you're a squib?" he said to John curiously.

John smiled kindly, "Not a squib no, that's for wizarding families see? My sister was a witch but she's the only one in our family to be one. I'm normal through and through".

Sherlock scoffed loudly, "Not normal John".

John grinned, eyes crinkling before exclaiming, "I still think this whole adopting you as a blood son though, is a bit extreme. What's your story going to be?"

"Yeah good point. And also, Dad, what did you mean by 'lost years'?"

Sherlock sat down, fingers interlocking, whilst Harry marvelled at how long they seemed to be. Glancing down, he saw his own fingers had grown longer, his nails more prominent. It was all very bemusing.

He seemed to be unsure of how to begin before turning to Harry. "I am very fortunate that John already knew about the wizarding world before we met. Telling him would violate many laws and, the lies alone would be intolerable on my thought process."

John grinned.

"I used to work in a department in the ministry – the government if you will. How Mycroft loves to remind me. Only a select few knew that this place even exists but anyway, I was experimenting one day with some time turners – a device that allows you to turn back time obviously – and I miscalculated slightly. I ended up back in the past, in the year that you were born."

Harry stared enraptured as Sherlock continued: "I was stuck in the past as my nineteen year old self for two years. I lived with you and your family, unable to go anywhere else because of my other sixteen year old self wondering about." Sherlock's eyes glazed over fondly, "Looking back, they were some of the best times of my life. Until of late, of course" he said, flicking his eyes over at John who rolled his eyes.

"Why yes, the crimes do seem a lot more interesting lately" John replied. The two man stared at each other before laughing. "And I wonder why people think we're a couple" he said teasingly.

Harry watched transfixed at the easy camaraderie the two men had. That sense of friendship made him smile.

"So yes". Sherlock continued, "During that time, my brother – you can call him Umbrella man – thought the only logical option was to declare me a runaway and an addict so, everyone presumes I was too ah – he glanced at John seeming to search for the appropriate word – busy to pay attention too anything".

"So nobody knew where you actually were?" Harry asked amazed.

Sherlock grinned manically and laughed. "To this day, it is one of his biggest annoyances that he couldn't find out where I was. So, therefore, nobody will doubt the validity of my statement when I announce you were a product of my rebellious years with a muggle woman."

"What's a muggle?" he frowned curiously, the unusual word flowing off his tongue.

John answered for Sherlock, "It's what I am, what the wizards call us. A non-magical person".

He nodded, trying to take in all of this information.

"But Harry" Sherlock exclaimed, "We haven't spoken about the most important thing yet! What your new name is going to be".

Groaning slightly, John replied, "You are not choosing any absurd names Sherlock! Remember Drewin?"

"How many times John do I have to tell you, it was for a case!" cried Sherlock, raking his hands through his hair.

Harry mused silently, amused at this change in direction. He wasn't sure he wanted a new name. Well, at least not a new first name. He didn't want to lose that when his real parents had gifted it to him. "I want to keep my first name" he declared firmly.

Both John and Sherlock nodded, before Sherlock replied "How about Harry Evan Holmes? Your mother's maiden name was Evans and this way, you can still have a link to your old name. I think it could do with another middle name though."

"Why don't you choose Harry?" John said to him, "I mean it's not everyday that you get to choose your own name".

He reflected quickly, flicking through a mental list of names he liked. Maybe Albus? Or William? "I've always really liked the name Mike" Harry said softly.

For some reason that made John splutter with glee. "Mycroft is going to be in heaven when he finds out you've named your son after him".

Sherlock frowned, appearing pained. "He means my brother" he said to Harry. "Although, that could actually work. Harry, would you minding spelling it Myc? My brother will be so much more amenable to any further favours after this".

Harry nodded, and laughed. Harry Evan Myc Holmes. It had a lovely ring to it!

Authors note: Thank you for all your reviews, some of your ideas about John were amazing. I may redraft this chapter at some point but I am currently pretty happy with the direction in which it is headed.