Sherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Seventh Safeguard

Chapter 2 ~ The Hidden Mansion in London's Heart

 It was in a strangely uncomfortable fashion that the young lady replied to my question; a pause, a nervous glance from my face to that of my friend, and a quiet: "Yes, they didn't hit us."

I wondered what it was that made her so nervous – surely she couldn't suppose that she and her friends were in any danger from Sherlock Holmes and I. But only I nodded in response, and started towards the waitress, who lay in an undignified heap by the door where she had fallen.

"She's not hurt." said the girl, whose voice was clear and precise, but gentle.

Having not the faintest idea what they had used to knock her out however, I bent down to examine her anyway. True to the girl's word, she could have been sleeping.

Behind me, Sherlock was addressing her: "I appreciate your attempt to shield us, young lady." he said. "But you should have realized that your shield would work both ways and John's own ricocheting bullet would be more likely to do him long term injury than most 'spells' this unpleasant gentleman would be likely to cast."

"Wait! But you're a muggle!" exclaimed the red-head. "How do you ..."

"Ah, you see, I have been devoting some attention to your secret society of late. Your invisible world is indeed difficult to see, but, truth be told, not quite invisible; any more than, you," here he looked towards the invisible owner of the floating hand "my alert young fellow, are."

The girl's face suddenly changed, the nervousness was superseded by a look of excitement.

"You – you're Mr. Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?" she said. "I thought you looked like the photographs but I wasn't sure!"

"You have the advantage of me, Ma'am. That is indeed my name, but I do not know yours."

With a delighted smile she held out a slim white hand. "I'm Hermione Granger." she said. "It's such an honour to meet you, Sir. And you must be his friend Dr. Watson? I ..."

"Hermione," said the red-head, looking confused and a bit worried, "what ..."

"Hermione, who are they?" asked the invisible boy.

"Am I the only one who ever reads anything in the muggle news?" she asked in a tone of ancient disbelief.

"Yup." said the red-head.

"I only read the muggle news to see if there's something big going on when I can't talk to wizards." said the invisible one.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, and I seemed to glimpse years of such interchanges behind the gestures. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes is only the greatest criminal detective of our age!" she explained, a bit shortly. "He's not a wizard but I would have thought you would at least have heard of him."

"Well, how does he know about us?!" asked the red-head.

"I would suppose," she said with some asperity, "that it probably has something to do with the fact he's a great criminal detective now when there's so many ..." She broke off.

"I have been looking into this little noticed segment of our island's population since the unfortunate murder of Ms. Amelia Bones." said Sherlock. " And I know something of your organization and customs. For instance, I am aware that your next intended step is to cover your tracks by erasing the recent memories of myself and Dr. Watson. I don't recommend you that try that, Miss Granger."

I now saw that this was what had made her uncomfortable; she had been trying to figure out how to go about erasing our memories. I could see from her reaction to Sherlock's comment that she had not expected him to know this, and was further embarrassed by his knowledge.