I just returned from Harry Potter Wizarding World at Universal Studio Japan! I tried butterbeer. The hot one is too sweet. I went there during low season so the quee isn't too long at the morning. Only 60 minutes for Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey. But the merchandise is too expensive for me. Aside of that, USJ Christmas live show 'Gift of Angels' is truly amazing. The best thing there even.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes and Harry Potter. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction. The story contains spoiler for both Sherlock and Harry Potter. There are quotes from novel, TV series, wiki and other sources. This fic isn't betaed yet. You've been warned.

Ode to Joy

Chapter III

Sherlock and John were on a crime scene now. Greg had called for their assistance and here they were now. Sherlock glanced around and then declared the identity of the killer. After that, he launched into monolog about the idiocy of the entire task force. So, John Greg made a wise decision to ignore Sherlock's ranting.

"We're going to pub to watch football tomorrow." Greg said. "Do you want to come with us?"

"Sorry. But Sherlock and I are going somewhere." John replied.

"Oh. A case?"

"No." John scratched his head. "Actually, we're going to see his long lost relative."

Greg opened and closed his mouth. "Sherlock's long lost relative?" the police inspector questioned in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know." John commented.

"Are you serious?" Greg asked. "Are you certain that this isn't a plot to lure Sherlock's out?"

Greg looked worried and John didn't blame him. With what happened in the past, they automatically thought of the worst.

"Harry, that's the name of Sherlock's relative by the way," John explained, "sent us a letter."

"A letter," Greg repeated. His eyebrows had risen to his hairline.

"A letter with fancy paper and wax seal," John informed him.

Greg whistled. "Sound like one rich guy."

"Not only that," John added. He took out his phone and opened the homepage of MI13. "Look at this," he showed the phone to Greg.

"Harry James Potter is the current Director General of MI13. He is the first person to have held that post since it was created." Greg read the content. "You're saying that this guy is Sherlock's relative," he muttered in disbelief.

"Yeah," John confirmed.

"Unbelievable."

John nodded. It was indeed unbelievable.

"Only Sherlock." Greg muttered.

"Yeah." He said in agreement. Out of billions of people in this planet, only Sherlock who had a criminal mastermind, pretty dominatrix and newspaper tycoon after him. John sometimes thought that his life now resembled those action movies he was so fond of. And if he wanted to be honest, his life

"Honestly, John, I thought your vocabulary was better than this." Sherlock had come to join them.

John turned to glare at his best friend.

"Have both of you finished with your gossiping?" Sherlock drawled out.

"We weren't gossiping." Greg denied.

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. "Talking then," he said, smirking.

John rolled his eyes.

"The case is boring!" Sherlock muttered, annoyed. "Let's go, John! We're leaving!"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Mycroft was already in 221B when they returned to the flat.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked rudely.

"Hello to you too Sherlock," Mycroft said, "John."

"Mycroft," John replied politely.

"I assume that your visit has something to do with your long lost relative, isn't it?" John asked.

Mycroft quirked his lips to one side. "Brilliant deduction, John."

"Even kindergarten students can arrive at the same conclusion," Sherlock said with a smirk.

John gave his best friend annoyed look.

Then Sherlock's expression suddenly changed. "You actually knew him," he breathed out.

"Yes, I knew him." Mycroft admitted. "But we never meet face to face."

"Interesting," Sherlock muttered and he stared at his older brother for a few moments.

Mycroft stared back at him.

"Excuse me," John piped in, "do you mind telling me what this is all about?" Mycroft was hiding something. Even he could tell about that.

"You'll find out tomorrow, John. We shall go to Grimmauld Place Number 12 together," Mycroft said and paused a bit, "I suppose it will be a whole new experience for us. I shall take my leave then. See you the next day, dear brother, John." With that, Mycroft left the flat.

"Can't your brother speak in normal human language for once?" he muttered.

"Mycroft fancies himself as higher intelligence being," Sherlock supplied unhelpfully.

"As if you don't suffer from the same ailment," was John's retort.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

At 12 noon the next day, Mycroft showed up in their flat. "I hope you're ready," he said.

John nodded. He even had chosen to wear his best suit. Earlier, Sherlock saw his clothes and then snorted derisively. John rolled his eyes. As if Sherlock could say anything. It was Sherlock who always dressed to the nines with his fitting shirt and expensive suit.

Mycroft sighed. "We shall leave now."

They met Mrs. Hudson downstairs.

"Hello, Mrs. Hudson," Mycroft greeted her.

"Hello, Mycroft," Mrs. Hudson replied. She looked at three of them. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"We're going to meet Sherlock's second cousin," John replied when he saw no sign that Mycroft or Sherlock was going to answer the question.

Mrs. Hudson's eyes widened. "Oh, there are more of you? Marvellous!" she exclaimed in delight. "Please ask your family to visit you, Sherlock. The more the merrier."

"We'll see about that, Mrs. Hudson," Mycroft replied and gave her a slight smile.

Mrs. Hudson was one of the few people who truly like Sherlock and also was able to tolerate Shelock's eccentricity. The other candidates were Molly and Greg. John was very grateful for her presence in their life. With Sherlock's questionable experiments, other landlords would kick them out in no time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They arrived at Clairmont Square at 1 PM. John looked around him. Clairmont Square was a new high class residential area. The old building was destroyed a few years ago. All the houses there were new. They were built to surround a large park. "Come on, John." Sherlock called him.

They walked up the stairs of Grimmauld Place Number 12.

Sherlock knocked the door.

It was opened by a young man with black hair and green eyes. He also had a lightning scar on his forehead. "You must be the Holmes siblings and Doctor Watson. I'm Harry Potter," he smiled and introduced himself.

Ah. So, this was Sherlock's long lost relative? John tried to see if they had any similarity. So far, he failed.

"Dr. John Watson," he introduced himself.

"Dr. Watson," Harry said, smiling. "I read your blog, you know. It's very interesting."

"Thank you," John replied and gave meaningful look at Sherlock which Sherlock pointedly and skilfully ignored. Well, Sherlock was trained for that since he was very annoyed that no one read his website. Instead, people read John's blog.

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock muttered sullenly.

"Mycroft Holmes," Mycroft said.

"I've heard many things about you," Harry said. "All good things, of course," the young man added.

"Likewise, Mr. Potter," Mycroft replied smoothly.

There was it again.

Sherlock snorted.

John elbowed his flatmate.

Sherlock gave him a betrayed look.

"Please come in," Harry gestured. "I'm very pleased that all of you can come here. I'm actually rather worried. I don't know how you're going to take the news."

"I was rather surprised myself," Mycroft said.

John was rather confused. Since when did Mycroft become talkative? Sherlock too frowned at his older brother.

"The others are in the living room," Harry continued. "They can't wait to meet you."

"The others?"

"The others descendants of Black family," Harry clarified.

"Oh." John forgot that the Blacks might be a big family. How were they going to take the news then? Would they welcome Sherlock with open hands?

"How did you find out that we're family?" Sherlock demanded suddenly.

But Harry didn't have a chance to reply since they finally arrived in the living room. There were three people waiting there. They resembled each other and John noticed that Sherlock and Mycroft actually looked similar to them. There was one woman in the beginning of forty sitting on the sofa. A blond woman sat next to her. Both of them were beautiful. Aside of the women, a blond young man was sitting on the chair not far from the two women. From his look, John thought that the young man must be the son of the blond woman.

"Let me introduce you," Harry said. "Everyone, this is Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes. They are the grandson of Marius Black. And this is Doctor John Watson, their best friend."

"You look like Uncle Marius," the black haired woman said. She stood up and walked towards them. "I'm Andromeda," she introduced herself.

The blond woman and her son joined them too. "I'm Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."

"Draco Malfoy," the young man drawled out. He really reminded John of those aristocrats on TV drama. Even their posh name was different than the majority of the people.

"You claimed that we're family. Where is your proof?" Sherlock asked again.

John gave his best friend a look. Seriously. Sherlock really needed to learn about subtlety.

"This," Harry answered and gestured to the wall.

John blinked. The wall? On closer inspection, the wall turned out to be tapestry. He wasn't the only one, Mycroft and Sherlock also went to inspect it. John could see the Black family tree was displayed on an intricate tapestry, as an ornate mural. It started in the Middle Ages and showed the dominant line of the family up to the present day.

"En stirpsnobilis et gens antiquissima Black." Mycroft read the Latin inscription on the Black family tree tapestry; "Behold the offspring of noble birth and the nation of the most ancient of Black."

John wasn't surprised at all that Mycroft knew Latin.

"They considered themselves as royalty," Harry explained.

"Toujours pour," Mycroft continued. "That's interesting. Especially considering the fact that Orion and Walburga was cousin."

John stared at the tapestry and found that Orion and Walburga were married. Well, he knew that in the past marriage between first cousin was done to keep the family fortune and to keep the blood intact. He didn't think that the Black family practiced the custom too.

"They're the parents of Sirius Black," Harry pointed, "my godfather."

"You're not really a Black," Sherlock said.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "I became the head of Black family because my godfather left me everything."

Harry's name did show up on the tapestry. As well as his wife's name and his children name. However, Ginevra name was in embroidered in black and John asked the meaning behind it.

"My wife passed away six years ago," Harry said.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Why are you sorry?" Sherlock asked. "It isn't your fault that his wife passed away."

Silence met his words.

Mycroft looked chagrined.

Even Draco was surprised to hear it and John got the impression that he and Harry wasn't close at all.

"I'm sorry," John blurted out, glaring at Sherlock.

Sherlock glared back at him, looking unrepentant as always.

Much to John's surprise though, Harry looked amused. "The news I read mention about this but I didn't think it was true."

At least, Harry didn't get angry like most of people when they heard Sherlock talk without filter.

"We were led to believe that there were no male descendants of the Black family," Narcissa spoke suddenly, changing the topic, "until Harry fixed the tapestry and your name showed up."

"With my godfather's death, the male line of House of Black is ended while the female line remained extant." Harry explained.

John looked at the tapestry again and he could spot Mycroft and Sherlock names on it.

"This is ridiculous!" Sherlock claimed loudly, throwing his hands on the air. "Our names showed up in this tapestry and suddenly we're your family! Anyone can add our names there!"

What Sherlock said was right. John had never about this kind of evidence before. Anyone could add Sherlock and Mycroft name on the tapestry.

"It's magic." Draco said.

Sherlock scoffed loudly.

Mycroft however was silent.

"Mycroft?" John prodded.

Sherlock looked at his brother incredulously. "Don't tell me that you believe in them?"

"It's true," Mycroft said at last.

"What is true?" John asked.

"Magic."

Sherlock stared at Mycroft as if he had gone insane. He wasn't the only one. Even John couldn't believe what he had just heard. This was Mycroft they were talking about. He should be the most logical one here.

Draco sighed. "This is useless. It's better to show them."

"Draco..." Harry muttered warningly.

Draco rolled his eyes. He looked annoyed that Sherlock refused to believe his words.

It was Andromeda who took out a wooden stick from her pocket. A wand, John's mind supplied.

She pointed the wand at the table and said. "Avis!"

In front of his very eyes, the table turned into a flock of colourful birds. The birds flew around the room and sang beautifully.

Bloody hell.

"I must be hallucinating," Sherlock whispered.

John pinched Sherlock's right hand.

"Ouch!" Sherlock frowned at him. "What was that for?" he hissed.

"This isn't a dream," he said in daze. He really just witnessed the coffee table turned into a flock of birds.

"Why did you pinch me then?" Sherlock demanded.

"Payback," he replied easily.

Sherlock's frown was replaced by a glare which John totally ignored.

One of the birds landed on Sherlock's shoulder. The detective raised a shaky hand to touch the bird. "It's real," he breathed out. All his previous annoyance was forgotten.

John touched the bird too. The feathers were soft on his hand. And then he saw Mycroft petting one of the birds. Mycroft might look compromised but John could tell that he was quite excited too. He reminded John of Sherlock at that moment.

"But this is impossible!" Sherlock looked distraught.

Harry looked at them worriedly. He took out his wand and waved it. The birds turned back into table. "Please sit down and I will explain everything."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

For the next two hours, Harry explained about the secret wizarding world that existed not only in Britain but also the entire world. He also told them about the wizarding war against dark wizard, wizarding school in Scotland which all wizards and witches in United Kingdom attended for their education, magical animal and beast...

"Does dragon really exist?" the question came from Sherlock.

"Yes, dragon does exist." Harry replied.

"Oh!" Sherlock looked very excited to hear that which was very suspicious.

"Hagrid once had a dragon. He forgot that he live in a wooden hut."

Draco snorted at this. Harry gave him meaningful look.

"Charlie, my best friend's brother, works in dragon sanctuary in Romania."

"Is Nessie real?" it was John's turn to ask this time. He was quite curious about this.

"Oh, Nessie is actually a kelpie."

...and about Quidditch which was an equivalent of football in wizarding world...

"You guys fly using broom?"

"Yes."

"Unbelievable."

...and then they talked about Harry's occupation...

"But MI13 website states that you're the director general."

"I'm Head of Auror. It's like wizarding version of MI5," Harry explained. "We used MI13 as camouflage."

...and many more. It was the most surreal two hours in John life. The fact that he could say that after spending years with Sherlock really meant something.

"How does magic work?" Sherlock demanded after the myriad of information. "There has to be some explanation behind it, surely. How does it work?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted and shrugged. "It just … works."

Sherlock was frustrated. John could tell about that. Sherlock prided himself as man of logic and now he found something that couldn't be explained scientifically.

"You're awfully calm about this." Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Mycroft. "You knew about this and you never say anything!"

"I am bound by law, Sherlock," Mycroft replied. "Surely, even you understand why the highest secrecy level is required for this matter."

Sherlock deflated.

"I have books if you want to read about magical world," Harry offered. "It might help you a bit. However, you can only read those books here. I can't allow you to bring them out."

"Fine," Sherlock bit out, trying not to look interested and failed spectacularly.

Sherlock had complained about being bored for the last few days. So, this was an opportunity for him to alleviate his boredom. John only hoped that Harry wouldn't regret his decision in the future. No one knew what Sherlock might do.

"I want to see the library now," Sherlock said.

Harry smiled. "Come, I will show you around."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

They spent a few hours there before going home. Harry made them promise to visit his house again. He also said that he would introduce his children the next time since they were playing Quidditch at the moment at his parents in law house.

Sherlock looked giddy on their way home that John became very suspicious.

"What have you done?" he demanded to know.

"Hmm?" Sherlock tilted his head to one side with a blank, innocent expression.

"Sherlock," he muttered in warning.

Sherlock fished out a book from inside his coat.

He gaped at Sherlock. "You stole Harry's book!" he accused. It must have happened during the tour of the library. "What were you thinking?"

"I did't steal it. I borrowed it," Sherlock corrected.

"You took it without his knowledge!" he retorted. "That means that you steal it!"

"I will return the book later," Sherlock said easily. "So, it isn't a thievery."

He saw the title. 'Fantastic Beats and Where to Find Them'. "Why did you choose that book?" he asked curiously.

"Isn't that obvious, John?"

"No," he replied flatly. "Contrary to what seems to be your opinion, most of us can't read minds."

"I'm going to find a dragon!" Sherlock claimed excitedly. "This is going to be fun!"

Author's Note:

Hi! It has been a long time since the last time. Anyway, I joined new fandom, Detective Conan and Kuroko no Basket. If any of you follow the series, please read my fics. It's slash of course.

JK Rowling stated on her website that Harry's grandparents name are Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. They had quite given up hope of a son or daughter when, to their shock and surprise, Euphemia found that she was pregnant and their beloved boy, James, was born. Fleamont and Euphemia lived long enough to see James marry a Muggle-born girl called Lily Evans, but not to meet their grandson, Harry. Dragon pox carried them off within days of each other, due to their advanced age, and James Potter then inherited Ignotus Peverell's Invisibility Cloak.

Thank you for reading and please review.

Merry Christmas 2015 and Happy New Year 2016!