Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and properties are owned by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock and properties are owned by BBC One, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. Harry Potter and properties are owned by JK Rowling. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction. The story contains spoiler for both Sherlock and Harry Potter. Also there are quotes from the novel and TV series.

We Are the Champions

Chapter I

Dr. John Hamish Watson had seen many strange things in his life. It came naturally because of his association with Sherlock Holmes, the one and only Consulting Detective in the world. John had been kidnapped by the British Government and strapped with bomb by crazy consulting criminal. He also witnessed his best friend's death and lived miserably for about a year until the said best friend returned from the fake death. Reconciliation wasn't that easy but in the end, they managed to go through it. But this...was beyond everything he had believed.

It was begun at 9 July 2014. The day after Brazil versus Germany football match of the 2014 FIFA World Cup. The game ended in a shocking loss for Brazil with Germany scored 7-1 against Brazil. John couldn't believe it. No one could believe it. He and Greg spent half an hour analyzing the match before an annoyed Sherlock put the end to their discussion.

"Your murderer is the son in law," Sherlock announced imperiously and turned to leave. "Boring!" he muttered.

John and Greg rolled their eyes.

"See you later, Greg." He said before leaving.

They bantered during their way home to 221B Baker Street.

Sherlock stopped dead in his track.

"Sherlock?" John asked.

His best friend didn't answer. Sherlock rounded up the stairs. John followed him.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded at his elder brother.

"Sherlock," Mycroft inclined his head. "John."

"Mycroft!"

Mycroft sighed. "Did you forget about our little trip every four years?" he drawled.

"Ah," Sherlock responded and glanced briefly at John.

What was that?

"He isn't-" Sherlock began.

"He is your associate, Sherlock," Mycroft cut him.

John frowned. What was going on here?

"That's enough for them." Mycroft said.

"Does Harry put you to this?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft's eyes narrowed. But before he had a chance to reply, a new voice interrupted. "Hello, everyone."

John turned to the newcomer.

It was Harry. John had met her before. He was surprised when he found out that Mycroft was married but since Mycroft got amnesia at that time and didn't even remember his own wife, they didn't talk much. He had pictured Harry like those ladies he saw on TV period drama. Harry came as surprise though. She was young, pretty and cheerful. A contradiction to Mycroft's personality. Mycroft regained his memories a few days later and they never met again.

"How are you, John?" Harry asked.

"I'm fine," he replied automatically.

Mycroft got up from the sofa so his wife could sit there.

Harry smiled at her husband before she turned to address them. "I'm here because I want to invite you to join us to Quidditch World Cup."

"What?" John asked.

"Sign this please and I will explain everything to you." Harry said.

John stared at the paper suspiciously. It was an agreement that he wouldn't in any way possible tell the others about the information he was going to get.

"Hurry up," Sherlock ordered. He was too impatient for his own good.

John glared at his best friend but he signed the paper anyway. The ink was red. Really weird. He never knew that people signed official and legal document with red ink.

"Excellent," Harry said and then proceeded to tell John about magical world which was absolutely ridiculous. Had Sherlock put Harry for prank?

"You're joking, right?" he asked.

"No," Harry replied.

She took out something. A wand, John's mind supplied.

Harry waved her wand and the coffee table started to float. She waved her wand again and the table transformed into rabbit. She waved the wand for the last time and the rabbit returned to its original form.

"It's impossible," he insisted.

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," Sherlock said pompously.

"You're so calm about this," John said. Sherlock was a man of science. If anything, Sherlock should freak out and start demanding information and explanation.

"I got years of experience," Sherlock replied.

"The paper you signed guarantee that you won't be able to tell anyone about magic," Harry said. "You're bound by the law."

Not that he was going to. People would think that he was crazy if he started spouting about magic.

"We shall take our leave then," Mycroft said.

Harry linked her right arm into the crook of Mycroft's left arm and in the blink of eye, they disappeared.

John turned to his best friend. "They're gone!" he exclaimed.

"Apparation," Sherlock muttered.

His mind latched into the first thing he remembered. "I can't go to this Quidditch World Cup! I have work tomorrow!" John protested.

"Mycroft already take care of it." Sherlock replied.

John threw up his arms in resignation. He was still processing the information. Magical world. Entire society hidden out there. For obvious reason of course. John understood and had witnessed many case of man's selfishness. He could imagine what would happen if non magical folk found out about wizard and their magical ability. The mutant discrimination in X-Men movies would pale in comparison.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The day finally came. They went to Mycroft's house in Clermont Square at dawn.

Sherlock knocked the door three times and stated his name clearly. "Sherlock Holmes." He then put his palm on the small crook next to the door.

"John Watson," John said, following Sherlock's action. He had encountered this before but thought nothing of it. John merely thought that it was some kind of security system that Mycroft used to protect his house.

The door's opened.

Sherlock and John stepped in.

Harry met them halfway in the living room. While the house was called Grimmauld Place Number 12, it was actually five townhouses that were knocked down to create bigger house.

"Hello, Sherlock, John." She smiled at them. "Are both of you ready to go?"

Sherlock grunted.

"Err...yeah," John replied.

"The portkey will activate in fifteen minutes," Harry informed them. "Have a seat then. I have to check the children."

Sherlock plopped into the sofa. John sat anxiously next to him.

"Sherlock, John. How nice of you to join them," Mycroft showed up a moment later. He wore his usual three piece suit.

John shrugged then he frowned. "I thought you disliked sport." John had asked Sherlock about Quiddicth but his friend only replied that it was game played by wizards on the broom.

"My wife and children are very fond of Quidditch," Mycroft replied.

"Whipped," Sherlock muttered, smirking at his brother.

John elbowed his best friend.

"What was that for?" Sherlock whined.

John sighed. Honestly, Sherlock was such a child sometimes.

Harry showed up with four children in tow. Three boys and one girl who obviously inherited her feature. John guessed their age range from fourteen to nine which made Harry older than she looked.

The children brightened at the sight of their uncle. "Uncle Sherlock!" they chorused. "Uncle John is here too!"

"We've heard so much about you and Uncle Sherlock," the little girl said. She was really pretty with dark hair and light blue eyes.

"I hope it's a good story," John said.

"The best story ever," one of the boys said. He was very handsome. He also had mischievous smile on his face.

"This is my godson, Teddy," Harry said.

Teddy grinned and his hair turned from black to blond.

John gaped at him.

"I'm Metamorphagus," Teddy said. "I can change my appearance anytime I like."

"James," Harry said again.

The boy with mischievous smile waved his hand.

"Albus or Al," Harry continued.

Al smiled shyly. The child was the only one who had Harry's green eyes. He was also the most adorable boy ever.

"And Lily," Harry finished.

Lily smiled.

"Nice to meet all of you." John said.

"Are we ready to leave now?" Harry asked her children.

"Yes!" They shouted enthusiastically.

"Good." She held out an old hat.

Mycroft, Sherlock and the children touched the rim of the hat.

Sherlock nudged him.

John touched the old hat too. Three adults and four children...standing and touching an old hat. Well, John had experienced weirder thing before.

"We'll leave in 5..4..3..2...1!"

It was a very odd experience. John felt his body was squeezed in every way possible. The sensation stopped suddenly.

Harry shuddered. "I never like Portkey," she muttered.

Mycroft and Sherlock looked perfectly fine though.

John stared around him in confusion. They were in the desert and he could see the snow on the peak of the mountains.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Welcome to Patagonia desert," Mycroft replied.

Author's Note:

Hi! I've finished writing this story but because I'm sleepy now I decided to type the rest of the story tomorrow. This is a short fic which tell about 2014 Quidditch World Cup. I want to write this since JK Rowling post about this.

Since the children are Harry and Mycroft's they take after their parents which mean Lily will have dark hair instead of red. I also moved forward Harry's Potter time line.

Anyway, if Mycroft is going to propose to Harry during Christmas, where do you think is the romantic place to do it in London/UK and how to propose without being cheesy since this is Mycroft after all.

And I want to thank you all who has kindly told me how to overcome the internet ban. Hopefully this will keep working in the future too.