Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Loveable Freak Presents:Sherlock Holmes and the Chest of Reality (A Fanfic): Chapter 12

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Chapter Twelve
Prisons And Dragons


  “So, Gladstone was really an Auror? Named Tobias?” John asked Sherlock on the way to the trial.

  “Yes,” Sherlock answered. “Hmm... “Toby”. That's a decent name for a cat, too.” He mused.

   John got a horrified look on his face. “Augh! He kept brushing up on me! I petted him! And David, ...Smith... whatever he is, did too! I have to scour my hands...

 ” Sherlock scoffed at John. “Please. He didn't sleep in your bed every night...”

  John's eyes widened. He made a disgusted noise. “I didn't need to think of that! Now I have to scour my mind, too...”


  After a long walk down the hallway, they two reached their destination. There Sherlock and John stood, in front of The Ministry. Mycroft stood up, and opened his mouth to speak...

   ...When out of nowhere, a large, animate dragon made of furniture burst into the room! Mycroft promptly whipped his wand out of his umbrella, shouting a spell no one could hear amongst the sheer panic. The dragon didn't even flinch. It blew fire at the young Minister in retaliation. However, John thought fast, and ran up to push Mycroft out of the way just in time.

  The dragon set his sights on John. John grabbed his wand and shouted, “Aguamenti!” shooting out a jet of water that held off the flames. Meanwhile, Sherlock was shouting off spells of his own, trying to subdue the dragon. “A little help, Sherlock!” John shouted. “I can't hold it off forever!”

  Sherlock glared at John. “I'm TRYING!” He screamed something out, and the dragon finally popped out of the room.

  The boys panted, then laughed a little. “That was too close...” John said, winded.

   Lestrade and about a dozen Aurors burst into the room. Lestrade ran up to Mycroft and helped him up. “Minister! Sir! Are you alright?” Mycroft winced as he got to his feet.

 “Yes, of course I'm fine...” He smiled a little. “My little brother and his friend have just saved my life. All of our lives. Obviously, two brave and heroic boys,” (Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Heroic” was far from the right word to describe himself.) “Wouldn't have murdered young Carl Powers. Let alone for something petty like Quidditch.”

  “But, sir, we can't leave them unpunished! Besides, they're probably fooling you.” A woman with a face akin to a frog interjected.

 John walked over to Sherlock and whispered, “That's Umbridge. She's horrible. I hate that woman. In fact,  I think everyone who's ever read the books hates that woman.”

  Mycroft turned to Umbridge. “Well then, Dolores. In case I'm somehow making a horrible judgment, which I highly doubt, I have a suggestion. I figure sending the two boys to Azkaban overnight to show them the consequences of committing something like murder is a good compromise. After all, they are only boys. Shall we take a vote?”

  The majority of the officials voted for Mycroft's proposition. Umbridge glared at Mycroft. Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem, Dolores?”

 Umbridge scowled. “No, sir, Minister.” She said, seething with fury. She, the rest of the Ministry, and all the Aurors (minus Lestrade) walked out of the room. John and Sherlock walked over to Mycroft. “You should fire her.”

  Mycroft looked down at John. “Don't tell me how to do my job.”

  “Sir, was that one of those secret tests of character-type things?” Lestrade asked Mycroft. Mycroft put his finger to his lips. Lestrade understood and nodded. “Yes, sir. Need to know basis for The Ministry. The information never leaves this room.”

  John looked over at Sherlock, who was grinning. “You two planned this, didn't you?” John asked.

 “Yes,” Sherlock said, beaming, “and it worked perfectly!”

 Mycroft frowned. “Though now I'll have find someone to repair this section of The Ministry, creating another hassle for me.”

 Sherlock grinned bigger. “See? Perfect! You see, John, Mycroft knows our problem and offered his assistance. Seeing as we had no choice, I told him about The Chest. And I explained how it might be somewhere starting with “Az.” He said it can only be Azkaban.”

  John shook his head. “Why didn't I think of that?”

  “Because you were too busy fanboying over being in a world from a children's book.” Sherlock said bluntly. John's jaw dropped. “Oh, don't be like that. You know it's true. Anyway, he and I worked out a plan to get us into Azkaban without getting arrested. Mycroft knew that some wizards within The Ministry were concocting a way of turning dragons into furniture. They think it could possibly be a way of transferring them easier. But they hadn't worked out how to make them inanimate yet...” 

  “Hence, the dragon made of tables, chairs, wardrobes, and such.” Lestrade said.

  “And why we let the boys keep their wands.” Mycroft added.

  “Yes. So, we worked out a way of getting the dragon to burst in during the trial. Lestrade, thank Glads-" Sherlock cleared his throat. "Thank Tobias for me later. Anyway, we show how we're above suspicion, Mycroft gets us into Azkaban without getting us into Azkaban, and we're all one step closer to ending this mess.”

  “Brilliant.” Lestrade and John said, almost in unison.

  “Elementary.” Said The Holmes' together.

  “Lestrade, escort them to Azkaban, if you could be so kind.”

  Lestrade nodded. “Yes, sir.” he said, putting a hand on each boy's shoulder. “Next stop: Azkaban.”

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