So sorry about the wait! I've been crazy busy. But here's a chapter!

Chapter 7

Harry wasn't sure what she was expecting on Christmas Eve, but it wasn't a party. She woke up to Mary and John bustling around the flat, putting things in different places and lecturing Sherlock on his ability to keep the flat child-friendly.

Wrapping Sherlock's robe a bit tighter around her, Harry examined the Christmas tree Mary and John were wrestling with.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, watching them.

"We're decorating. For the Christmas party," John said, matter-of-fact.

"Christmas party?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. A Christmas party. You'll love it," John promised.

"I've never been to a Christmas party," Harry said, trying to keep herself from tightening her grip on the robe even more.

"There appears to be a lot of things you've never done," Sherlock said with a sigh before whisking her back into the bedroom.

"Why are we having a Christmas party?" Harry asked him as soon as the door was closed.

"John said it would be a good idea. Since I'm back now, I haven't really seen many of my old…acquaintances….and he recommended a party," Sherlock said, his lip curling in slight disgust.

"I'm not good at parties," Harry admitted.

"Neither am I. I tend to make the guests run for the door," Sherlock said, his disgust momentarily brightening to enthusiasm.

"In fact, I bet I could scare off more than you can in the first hour," Sherlock said.

"I'm not good at doing things on purpose," Harry admitted.

"Is there anyone you can think of that you'd like to invite?" John asked her the moment the two of them left the bedroom, a sleepy Theo in their arms.

"No one I'm in contact with," Harry admitted sheepishly. Mary and John exchanged looks.

"What if we could get you in contact with some of them?" Mary asked carefully.

"We already talked about this. The number one priority is Harry's safety," Sherlock said, crossing his own arms.

"What…what do you mean?" Harry asked carefully, moving to grip Sherlock's arm.

"I have an owl. It was my sister's. I could send it to your friends, telling them to come to a party tonight. We don't even have to mention you," Mary suggested lightly.

"You could…you could send it?" Harry asked, her voice tiny.

"Yeah. Probably no more than two for them to make it tonight, but we could," Mary offered. Harry mulled over it for a moment, thinking carefully.

"Just one. Send it to George Weasley. Nothing in it but a time, a place, and the words "I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good," Harry decided.

"Are you sure that's enough to make someone show up?" Mary asked dubiously.

"I know it is. He gets that, he'll know it could only be one of two people," Harry said.

"And he won't try to turn you in? Or take you away?" Sherlock asked her.

"He won't," Harry agreed.

"Okay. I'll go send that while you finish setting up. Sherlock, did you pick up any outfits for them suitable for Christmas?" Mary asked. Sherlock sighed and nodded.

"I assumed you'd insist on such an event," Sherlock said, pulling Harry from the room once more.

"What do you mean? How much did you buy us?" Harry asked him in disbelief.

"I bought you everything you would need once we found you," Sherlock said.

"Except a robe," Harry added, but she was biting her lip at the thought.

"I'd already decided I wanted the two of you here. Theo's a mystery, and so are you. I love mysteries," Sherlock pointed out. Harry nodded carefully, as if she were mulling his words over carefully.

"So where is this Christmas outfit?" Harry finally asked. Sherlock gave her a blinding smile.

The first guest arrived at five. Harry had taken to helping John with decoration to keep her hands from shaking in anticipation of the night. She was in the middle of hanging a few ornaments when the door opened.

"I brought up some cookies the wife made…blimey, what're you doing back?"

The ornament in Harry's hand crashed to the ground at the sudden intrusion. John was at her side instantly with a broom and dust pan, scooping the glass pieces away before Theo could run in the room as he had done off and on since Mary had started baking in the kitchen.

"Sherlock brought her back last week. Nice to see you again, Greg," John said graciously, taking the cookies from the DI in the hand that wasn't holding the broom and dust pan full of glass shards.

The DI continued staring at her, eyes dragging down to Theo as he ran in the room. Sherlock followed him, looking a bit irritated at his disheveled appearance.

"Mommy!" Theo shouted, throwing his arms up at her. Harry scooped the child up automatically.

"What'd you do now?" Harry asked the boy.

"He decided to mess with my hair while I was rearranging the food platter Mary could not arrange correctly," Sherlock said huffily, running a hand back through his hair.

"Now Sherlock, we both know he was only trying to make your hair look better," Mary teased as she entered the room.

"Greg! So nice you could make it," she said with a warm smile.

"Greg, I hope you remember Harry Watson, my cousin," John said.

"Your cousin?" Greg asked in disbelief.

"Yes. Imagine our surprise when we learned that Sherlock's elusive girlfriend and my cousin were one and the same," John said, his lie coming out quite elegantly. Even Sherlock seemed rather proud of his words.

"And that makes the kid…" Lestrade tapered off, staring at the child in Harry's arms.

"My son. Yes," Sherlock drawled.

"Blimey. I need a drink," Lestrade said, handing the cookies off to Mary.

"Wine's on the table," Mary told him as he headed towards the kitchen.

"Why does that thought make him need alcohol?" Sherlock asked.

"You, a mini-you, and my cousin all in one family. That's what makes him want to drink. It sounds like a nightmare," John said, winking at Harry.

"Please. I'm not that atrocious," Sherlock scoffed.

"No dear; you're worse," Mary corrected him.

Harry decided to stay away from the breakables from that point on. Molly showed up, acting amicable towards Harry and enamored with little Theo after awhile, despite her knowing what he was.

A few other people showed up as well, but Harry tried retreating to the corner of the room. John would take her and introduce her to a few people as his cousin, Sherlock's girlfriend, but Harry didn't remember any of their names.

She didn't like this event. She didn't like it at all. It was weird uncomfortable – an overall pain.

Sherlock seemed to agree with her, if his look of irritation every time a woman named Sally spoke was anything to go by. He would mutter every so often that it could only be worse if Anderson had shown up.

Right at the time the party was officially to start, there was a knock on the door. Most everyone else just walked right in. John made his way to the door and opened it.

Harry felt her heart ache. That was the best way to describe the intense emotions she had upon seeing George Weasley standing in the doorway, anxious and apprehensive all at once. When his eyes landed on Harry, he flew past John and swept Harry up into a bone crushing hug, one that would have put Molly Weasley to shame. He didn't say anything, just breathed deeply as he held her tightly.

Harry managed to catch sight of Sherlock over George's shoulders (he was holding her well off the ground by that point). He looked mutinous, and Harry rolled her eyes at him. Theo was in his arms as well, looking curiously at Harry and the red-haired man he couldn't remember.

When George finally pulled back, he had tears in his eyes. He opened his mouth, then closed it once more.

"Mischief Managed, oh holy one?" Harry managed to say, her voice cracking.

"Don't you ever do that to us again," George threatened.

And Harry's heart cracked a bit more.

Us. He was referring to himself a Fred.

"George, there's some people I want you to meet," Harry said. She gestured to Sherlock, who sulked his way over to them.

"This is my boyfriend, Sherlock Holmes. Theo's father," Harry said, staring at George as she spoke. George glanced at Teddy for one moment before nodding, eyes narrowing on Sherlock.

"So you're the one who's kept her from visiting," George said.

"No George. He hasn't," Harry said patiently.

"Sherlock, this is my friend George. We used to be triplets, back in school. Owned a joke shop together, didn't we?" Harry asked.

"Owned? We still do. Your name is on the deed as financial partner," George pointed out. Harry could only shake her head at the man.

Sherlock opened his mouth, deduction on his tongue. Usually, Harry let them go.

"No. Please don't," Harry interrupted before he could even start. Sherlock closed his mouth, staring at her.

"Yes, I said triplet. Yes, he said us. Three became two after a violent accident," Harry said simply. George winced at her words. Sherlock gracefully kept his mouth shut.

John took that as his cue to come over.

"This is my cousin, John Watson. He has a sister named Harry as well. The two of us could be twins," Harry said with a laugh, careful not to put too much emphasis on the words. George nodded, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"And this is his fiancée, Mary," Harry finished. George nodded to both of them.

"This is my good friend George. He was one of my best friends in school," Harry said.

George winced.

"You didn't tell them you were coming here, did you?" Harry asked him.

"No. Ron threw a fit when I said I had places to be though," George admitted.

"Ron's a prat," Harry complained.

"Glad you finally see it," George retorted with a laugh.

"Are they still…" Harry drifted.

"Out for your blood? Bigoted fools? Yes," George said with a wince.

"I see," Harry said with a frown.

The night went by without a hitch, save one incident where Sherlock let loose his deductions. George stayed at their sides the whole night, at one point even going as far as to wrap an arm around both Harry and Sherlock.

Harry wasn't sure what shocked Sherlock more, the fact that the one-eared red-head man was touching him or the offer from said red-head for a threesome if they were ever interested.

That had elicited quite a few chokes from anyone within hearing distance.

Harry could only laugh at the familiar gleam in George's eye.

When it came time to go, George asked if he could spend the night.

"I'll only take up a third of the bed, I promise!" George whined to Sherlock, who instantly tried shoving him out the door.

"I'll owl you soon, okay? Just…don't tell anyone else," Harry said.

"I solemnly swear," George said, but his tone had seriousness laced throughout the words.

When he'd finally made his way out the door, both John and Sherlock sank onto the couch.

"I thought he'd never leave," Sherlock moaned.

"You're telling me. Please, for Christ's sake, tell me the rest of your old friends aren't like that," John begged of her. Harry could only grin.

"I don't really have many other old friends," she told them. Both relaxed at her words.

"However, he used to be a twin. Imagine that, times two, with me in the mix more often than not," Harry told them, feeling the grin blossom up over her face.

Both men groaned in horror at the thought.

Mary managed to get the lot of them off their feet to clean up the mess left over from the party. If Sherlock or John had had their way, the flat would have stayed trashed well past the new year. Theo seemed to enjoy throwing things in the bin Mary carried around.

In fact, he got so eager at his new game that he started throwing everything in, to Mary's glee and Sherlock's horror. Sherlock snatched the skull Theo had somehow managed to grab and placed it safely on the mantel once more.

Harry's sides hurt from so much laughter.

Finally, finally Mary and John left for the night. Sherlock threw himself down in his chair, eyes closed as he slumped back. Harry had a now-spent Theo in her arms, slouching just as Sherlock was. She glanced at the man who'd never entered his own room, save to grab clothes every now and then.

She hadn't seen him sleep. She supposed he had to, and the sight of him slouching in the chair made her wince. He shouldn't have to sleep in a chair when he had a bed. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of him sleeping before. Her Gryffindor side was always making her overlook the simple things, she realized ruefully.

"You know, the bed is big enough for three," Harry said carefully. One of Sherlock's eyes opened.

"Of course it is," Sherlock said before both eyes opened.

"If you are insinuating that you would like to call the red-haired cretin back, I will protest."

Harry bit back a laugh at her words.

"Actually, I was implying that Theo and I wouldn't mind sharing the bed with you, but if you'd rather not…" Harry drifted off. Sherlock sighed and stood, as if he were doing them a favor by sleeping in the bed as well.

The three of them slipped nightclothes on and climbed into the bed, Theo snoring softly before Harry could even turn off the light.

The movement of Sherlock as he climbed into the bed unnerved her slightly. She fought to keep herself from stiffening – only barely succeeding.

"If it makes you so uncomfortable, I can sleep in my chair. I've been managing just fine," Sherlock said quietly.

"No. It's fine. I'll just take some getting used to," Harry said. She allowed the silence to settle over them for a moment before a wide grin split her face.

"You know, I'm actually pretty sure there's room for four in this bed."

Sherlock's only answer was a grunt.

Harry woke before anyone else. Theo was curled up in her arms and Sherlock was actually within arm's reach of the two of them. For a moment, Harry just laid there, her lips twisting again into that foreign smile.

Christmas. Christmas day. It was Christmas day.

But how did you celebrate Christmas day? How was she to celebrate it?

At the school, it meant they got to be left alone before a meal. The meals were never her favorite – not only was the food so rich it made her sick, but the other teachers were always overbearing with their fake smiles and cheer.

Before school, the Dursleys did Christmas the same every year. Harry woke up and cooked breakfast while the others slept and then was roughly locked in her cupboard until it was time to come out and cook supper for them.

Harry slipped out of the bed, tucking Theo carefully back into the sheets next to Sherlock before pressing a kiss on the child's forehead. Dressing robe wrapped firmly around herself, she padded into the kitchen to take inventory of what they had.

The last few years, there hadn't been a Christmas. At least, there hadn't been one that Harry and Theo had celebrated. Harry had just made sure that no matter what, they were in a motel during Christmas. It was the smallest sort of Christmas gesture, but there was little else she could do.

A pang hit her just as she was pulling out the ingredients for breakfast.

There had been one year she'd almost had a Christmas. One year when they had decorated a house and sang and had dinner.

The year with Sirius.

Even that year, there was darkness hanging over them. Arthur Weasley had been in the hospital. None of the Weasleys had liked that year – Ron had spent the entire time complaining.

But to Harry, that was perhaps the best Christmas she'd ever had.

Oh Sirius.

Sirius would have spoilt Teddy rotten, Harry realized sadly. She could see them, the Maurauders, and their Christmases now. Remus trying to keep everyone calm and following the rules, while Sirius bound through the place as a Grim, a bouncing Teddy on his back. Tonks would have had a field day with that as well. She probably would have followed Remus around as he lectured everyone, morphing into Remus to mock his rules jokingly.

And her parents.

Harry dared not think of how her parents would have fit into that equation. It hurt too much to think of them anymore, so to save herself from the heartache she simply did not think of them at all if she could help it. Theo had grown up hearing stories of Uncle Padfoot, Moony, and Tonks, but never of James and Lily.

Harry couldn't bear the pain to mention them.

A flash of pain brought her attention to what she was doing.

Cooking.

And she's burnt herself.

Harry pushed her thoughts away, ignoring the burn as she payed closer attention to the food she was preparing.

"You're burnt."

The voice came from right behind her. Harry jumped slightly, but before she could even turn around, Sherlock's arms had wrapped around her. One of his hands was holding her injured hand steady as the other gently prodded it.

"It's nothing. Just a grease splatter," Harry said.

"I can tell. It blends in nicely with the other burn scars in the area. Let's bandage it up," Sherlock said, but Harry shook her head.

"It'll be fine. I've had worse," Harry said.

"I'm sure you have," Sherlock said drily.

"Let me finish cooking breakfast first," Harry said softly, hoping the compromise would make him more agreeable.

"Not only does it blend well, it looks as if a multitude scars come from similar incidents. Were you the sole cooker in your household?" Sherlock asked her, his words low right next to her ear.

"I was. I'm used to it. If I don't finish the food now, it'll be ruined," Harry explained.

"And if we don't bandage your hand soon, it'll scar," Sherlock said.

Only then he remained silent.

Harry quickly finished making breakfast with Sherlock still at her back.

"So the majority of your scars come from no one bothering to help you bandage them, aren't they?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"I'm not important enough to waste good bandages on," Harry quoted from memory.

"Well, I don't mind this whole 'wasting' bandages. Let's fix your hand before we eat," Sherlock decided, pulling her from the kitchen and into the bathroom. He meticulously wrapped her hand up, as if studying it as he did.

"We should wake up Teddy so he can eat. John called and said him and Mary'd be here in an hour with presents," Sherlock said, looking almost puzzled at the words.

"Presents?" Harry repeated.

Oh. Presents. Yeah.

She hadn't gotten presents in a few years. And at school, it was always something small from Hermione and Ron.

Except the one year she'd received the Firebolt from Sirius.

Teddy had never really received presents, especially not for Christmas.

"I haven't gotten anyone presents," Harry admitted as she realized what was expected of people for Christmas.

"John said you probably wouldn't have. Mary recommended I get nothing as well so you would not feel guilty. Only Mary and John bought presents this year, for Teddy for the most part," Sherlock explained.

"What?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"It was Mary and John's idea," Sherlock said, waving it all off. Harry could only stare at him in shock.

He led her back to the kitchen, where she found herself dishing out plates as Sherlock disappeared from the room, coming back a few minutes later with a sleepy Teddy on his hip. He sat Teddy down in one of the chairs as Teddy rubbed his eyes, a yawn emerging from his lips.

"Mommy?" Teddy asked, staring dubiously at the table.

"It's Christmas, Teddy. It's a special day," Harry said softly. Teddy still stared at the table with suspicions.

"It's sort of like your birthday," Sherlock supplied, watching Teddy carefully for a reaction.

"He wouldn't understand that either," Harry said quietly in return.

"Well then, you're just going to be surprised, aren't you?" Sherlock said, forcing a wide grin onto his face. Teddy seemed to be unsure as to how he was supposed to feel and react.

Mary had warned him that the boy might. She'd suggested almost exaggerated emotions with him to help him settle down with how he should feel.

Personally, Sherlock had thought she sounded completely insane, but John had nodded along. Sherlock supposed that John knew more than he did about human interactions, and if John thought it was a good idea, then it more than likely was a good idea.

The three of them finished breakfast in silence, as well as cleaned up before Mary and John arrived.

And when Mary and John arrived, they arrived loudly.

John burst in the doors with a cry of "Merry Christmas" escaping him before he could fully make his way in the door. Mary followed, her arms fully of gifts. John all but dropped the gifts he had on the floor in front of Teddy, who stared suspiciously at the brightly wrapped presents.

"Merry Christmas," Harry replied quietly in response. Teddy stared up at Harry, nose scrunched up at her.

It took a lot of working and prodding, but Teddy finally began opening the presents. It took even more prodding before Teddy realized that the presents were his and his to keep. Only then did Teddy start getting excited. Harry herself seemed to cheer up as Teddy did, laughing as freely as her son at some of the gifts Mary and John had purchased for him. When he had finished tearing through the colorful paper, both Teddy and Harry had thanked Mary and John tremendously, Harry with slightly damp eyes and Teddy with bouncing enthusiasm as his arms tried holding all the stuffed animals he'd received while still hugging them.

Only then did John glance at his watch, clear his throat and glance more purposefully at his watch.

"We ought to be getting to the Holmeses house. Mycroft made sure to give me the exact times as to when to leave in order to arrive as to his schedule," John said.

"His schedule and mine rarely align. We need to clean up before we can leave," Sherlock dismissed. Harry leapt to her feet at his words. She hurried into the kitchen, more than likely in search of a rubbish bin to collect the trash with.

"Sherlock, please, be kind today. Make today special for them," John pleaded. Sherlock let out a long-suffering sigh but did not disagree with John.

When Harry made it back in the room, Sherlock took it from her and gently sat it down.

"We'll clean up when we get home," Sherlock said. Harry opened her mouth, only to close it once more.

The look she threw at the room was almost painful.

Still, she allowed Sherlock to drag her to the room and pick out an outfit for her to wear. While she was getting herself and Teddy dressed, John and Mary were picking up the living room.

"Do you know anything about her time with her relatives?" Mary asked John, keeping her voice low.

"Only that they abused her to some degree. She tries not talking about them. Why?" John asked.

"Because she looked pained at the thought of leaving things lying around. The moment we were done, she was ready to clean up. Those kind of behaviors are trained into a person," Mary explained.

"I agree." Both Mary and John spun around to see Sherlock standing in the doorway.

"In my opinion, it makes her time on the streets that much more admirable. She cannot stand dirt because the thought was beat out of her, and yet she was forced to live in such conditions herself. It must have been painful," Sherlock mused.

"Actually, it was welcoming," Harry said drily as she entered the room, a squirming Teddy in her arms. She sat him down quickly and he wasted no time in running for the trash bag, hell-bent on creating a mess once more. Mary moved the bag away from him.

"Welcoming?" Sherlock asked, eyebrows shooting up. Harry nodded.

"Yes. Welcoming. I hate neat. It's just an automatic reaction, any time someone mentions needing something cleaned. That was usually my hint that I'd bettered do it if I wanted food any time in the next week," Harry explained. John was gaping at her.

"We ought to get going before Mycroft sends a car for us," Sherlock pointed out.

"Too late. One's already here," Mary said as she returned from the window. Sherlock let out a long sigh before wrapping his bathrobe around him.

"Sherlock!" John hissed at him.

"I'm dressed. That doesn't mean I can't give Mycroft a heart attack," Sherlock said with a feral grin.

And he almost did give Mycroft a heart attack. Mycroft was seconds from ordering him back up to the room when Harry let out a shiver and Sherlock quickly wrapped the robe around her.

Mycroft's irritation turned into intrigue.

He had been suspicious about this sudden addition to his brother's life. He doubted love was involved- his brother didn't know love. This was beginning to look as though his emotionless brother was in fact infatuated with this mystery girl.

Mycroft was not quite sure he liked this new development. Only time could possibly tell.

They all crawled into the car, Mycroft watching now with more critical eyes.

"I told you I'd get them to your parents' house. Why'd you send a car?" John protested.

"Because, Mr. Watson, I daresay I know my brother better than you do, and he never would have made it that far without me escorting them there personally," Mycroft stated. Sherlock sniffed at him before taking his spawn from Harry. Harry just shivered once more, watching her son from the corner of her eyes as she glanced out the window at the passing city.

"How was your Christmas morning?" Mycroft asked Harry, watching her for her reactions. She shrugged, her actions calculated. Then, with a covered look, she levelled her shoulders and stared back at him.

"It was adequate."

Mycroft started at her words, staring at the slip of a girl whose whole posture screamed intimidating. He couldn't stop the smirk that spread across his lips.

"Great. He's smiling," Sherlock grumbled.

The rest of the drive passed with meaningless chatter instigated by John as they left London behind and entered the countryside. Harry seemed to be getting antsy the farther they drove.

They came up to the Holmes Mansion, and Harry's tension did not seem to decrease. She stared at the mansion in disbelief, shaking her head at the sight of it.

"Ready?" Sherlock asked Harry, who squared her shoulders once more.

"Of course," she said, shrugging Sherlock's dressing gown off. Sherlock went to grab it, but Harry held him back before stepping out of the car. John and Mary followed her immediately, leaving Sherlock in the car with his spawn and Mycroft.

"I have a feeling this will be an interesting evening," Mycroft said lightly. Sherlock leveled him with a glare.

"Only if you upset Mummy." Mycroft's incredulous expression was what Sherlock left him with, climbing out of the car.

"Me? Upset Mummy?" Mycroft asked in disbelief.

"Yes. After all, I just gave her a grandchild," Sherlock said with a superior sniff as he made his way out of the car. Mycroft followed stiffly after him.

Sure enough, at the doorway Mrs. Holmes was standing there, eagerly watching Harry, Sherlock and Theo as they made their way up to the doorstep.

"Hello! You must be Harry Watson. I am so happy to finally meet you!" Mrs. Watson said with a wide smile as she pulled Harry into a hug. Harry stood stiffly in her arms, shooting John and Sherlock a desperate look.

"Yes Mummy," Sherlock said with a sigh. Mrs. Holmes's attention shifted from Harry to Sherlock and, consequently, Theo. She swooped in, pulling Theo into her arms. Theo squawked indignantly, looking desperate to get away from the strange woman who'd just grabbed him.

"Mycroft told me you weren't married," she observed.

"No, Mummy," Sherlock said simply. Mrs. Holmes clucked her tongue and then glanced at Harry once more.

"Will Theodore be receiving a younger sibling soon?" she asked.

"I should hope not," Mycroft said in alarm, and Sherlock shook his head.

"Not to my knowledge," Sherlock said, only his voice sounded strangled.

"Sherlock and I have decided to focus on raising Theodore in a suitable manner before procreating once more," Harry said diplomatically. John stared at her in disbelief as Mrs. Holmes nodded.

"A formidable plan. Come in, come in!" she said, holding the door open wide.

"Nice save," Mary congratulated.

"I thought so too," Harry said, breathing out her own sigh of relief.

"That gives us one, maybe two years to come up with another answer," Sherlock added in, his voice a murmur as his mother shuffled them all into a living room, where a Christmas tree was piled with presents. Harry stared.

And stared.

It looked almost as bad as Dudley's Christmas piles.

Sherlock steered her and Teddy into the kitchen, where Mrs. Holmes was arguing with Mycroft.

"All I'm saying is that you could benefit from having a woman around as well. You're not getting any younger," Mrs. Holmes was saying. John was shaking in laughter with his back turned, and Mary could only snicker at Mycroft's growing irritation.

"Sherlock has a woman. Why don't you focus on getting more grandchildren out of him?" Mycroft complained, trying to throw them under the bus.

"Didn't you hear? They're focusing on dear little Theodore first. So it's your turn," Mrs. Holmes announced. Mycroft released another sigh. Only for his expression to change to one of scheming.

"But Mummy, why don't you instead try convincing Sherlock and Harry to marry? After all, they aren't married yet," Mycroft suggested.

"Dear, why don't we leave the children alone for a bit? I'm sure Theodore would love to open presents." This new voice came from behind them.

"Father," Mycroft said with a slight nod. Sherlock echoed his actions.

"Come. It's Christmas. First Christmas with the family in three years. I would like to celebrate it."

Okay, so I will say that someone has pointed out to me that I mentioned Ron was dead before. As of now, I don't have time to go back and edit and rearrange things. Once I've finished this series entirely, I will correct that. But for now, just go with it. I acknowledge the mistake and will eventually fix it. I don't need reviews pointing it out.

Once more, sorry for the wait. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

Andi