Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter. Note for this chapter specifically, this chapter is happening at the same time as the last chapter.

Betas: Lady of the Shards; Kyrianae Narii for advising me on pretty much everything U.K.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! It means a lot to me as always! You guys are awesome! I love it!

Chapter 9

"Well if it isn't Gregory Lestrange," said a voice in greeting.

Lestrade let out a strained smile, that being the second time today he heard the hated name, at the man who had spoken and said, nodding, "Tom. It's been a while and I go by –"

"I know what you go by now," said Tom, the man who was behind the counter and owner of The Leaky Cauldron, nodding at Lestrade as well, "and who's fault is it that it's been ages since we've last seen each other?"

Lestrade tried to be apologetic but his emotions were all over the place and he ended up saying instead, "I've been really busy."

Tom nodded again and said, "I've heard you've been busy with the Muggle police. I keep up with their newspaper. You're mentioned quite a few times in it. A Detective Inspector." He gave an impressed whistle as he passed Lestrade a drink and said, "It's on the house for an old friend."

Lestrade snorted slightly, taking the drink and said, "Old friend. You've known me since the worst night of my life."

"Some would say that that was the beginning of your life then," came back Tom's usual reply.

"Then why do you keep calling me Gregory Lestrange every time you see me?" asked Lestrade, keeping his voice down. He knew what his brothers and his brother's wife were accused of being and where they were currently at and didn't want anyone to know he was related to them.

"You should never forget where you've come from even if it wasn't the best of places," said Tom.

"You come from a fine family and I'm pretty sure if my family knew I were alive they would very much appreciate it if I forgot where I came from and it would be even better if I died," said Lestrade, taking a drink.

Tom sighed and opened his mouth to respond but Lestrade cut him off and said, "I've had a rough couple of days, Tom, and I don't want to hear the usual things you and your father usually say to me. I've gotten over it for the most part, believe me, and I want nothing to do with them."

Tom nodded his head in agreement with what Lestrade said and then hesitantly asked, "Do you know where you brothers are and what they are accused of being?"

Lestrade nodded stiffly and said, "I know and I have no doubt they actually did it. Remember what our parents did to me when they found out about me being a Squib?" The last part was said quietly so it wasn't overheard by anyone, not that there were too many people in the pub to overhear anything but Lestrade thought it was better to be safe than sorry.

Tom swallowed painfully and said, "I remember. If it wasn't for your family's house elves…"

"I know. I'll be forever grateful to them. They probably had to punish themselves most severely for helping me," said Lestrade.

The both of them sat in silence after that statement for a few minuets before Tom asked, "So why are you coming into my pub and, I'm guessing, Diagon Alley when the last time we saw each other you swore you would never come back?"

Lestrade hesitated slightly before answering. He was sure no one was suppose to know where Harry Potter was located as that could be dangerous for the child and as they just discussed, Lestrade came from a family that was not the best. What was one or two omitted truths between friends that didn't hurt anyone?

"I have a –" Lestrade hesitated, again, as to how to describe Sherlock for a moment before settling on, "colleague who recently adopted," he was sure Sherlock would have Mycroft get the paperwork set up, "a magical child, I recognized the signs, and I wanted to pick up some books for my colleague so he doesn't get quite the shock when his Hogwarts Letter comes."

Tom looked like he didn't believe that Lestrade was telling him the whole truth but he was willing to go along with the story if Lestrade was for which Lestrade was thankful.

"Right. Come on," said Tom. "I'll lend you a cloak, it's still pretty dangerous out there, you don't want to be seen by some people dressed completely as a Muggle, and open the Alley for you."

"Thanks," said Lestrade, finishing the last of his drink and moving to follow Tom.

Tom just waved away his thanks and said, "How long do you think you'll be so I can open it again when you're done?"

"Depends how long I'm in Gringotts for. I need to exchange some money as I just have Muggle money," said Lestrade putting on the cloak that Tom had just handed him. He was thankful that at least this bank he knew he wouldn't be held hostage in, especially as he just left one, as someone tried to rob it.

Tom nodded in understanding and said, "Well, it hasn't been too busy today in here and you can't floo into Gringotts so I don't think you'll have too long of a wait. Tell you what, I'll open the Alley for you in two hours – that should be enough time, right?"

Lestrade nodded and said, "That should be plenty."

Tom nodded his head and said, while opening the Alley, "I'll see you then. Stay out of trouble."

Lestrade chuckled and said, stepping into the Alley, "I've got enough trouble in my life now that I won't go causing it. See you in a bit."

Lestrade turned and started to walk towards the large white building, the walk reminding him of the many times he walked the path with his father when he was younger before he ruthlessly pushed the memories aside.

He stepped into the building, nodding at the goblins, and walked passed the second set of doors. He looked around at all the goblins and decided to get into line in front of one of the busier goblins exchanging money, that way the goblin wouldn't pay that much attention to him and who he apparently was in this world.

He waited for about fifteen minutes before it was his turned.

He stepped up to the counter and said, "I would like to exchange Muggle Money."

"How much?" asked the goblin, not looking up from his record's book. Lestrade's plan was working thus far.

Lestrade, not knowing how much the exchange rates had changed over the years, just handed over one hundred pounds while telling the goblin that as well, hoping it would be enough for the day ahead or at least to get the most important books that he would need. He honestly didn't know how Mycroft thought just Modern Magical History would suffice for Sherlock. Once Sherlock found out about the Wizarding World, he was going to want to get his hands on all the data he could.

"How would you like it? Just Galleons or would you like Sickles and Knuts as well?" asked the goblin, still not looking up from his book.

"A little bit of everything," said Lestrade. He figured he might as well show Sherlock, John and Harry the difference in money now as well. They would have to get used to it eventually.

The goblin made a notation in his book and counted out the money, handing over nineteen Galleons, sixteen Sickles and twenty-nine Knuts, which wasn't bad as far as Lestrade could consider since the last time he had to do this. Rates were going down.

Lestrade took the money, gave the goblin a nod and their customary farewell, which caused the goblin to look up at him in surprise as he was exchanging Muggle money after all, but Lestrade had missed the look as he had turned to leave right after he had said it.

Once Lestrade was outside of the bank, he stood in front of it to gather his thoughts and to take a deep breath. He could do this. It was just the book shop and then leaving the Alley. He didn't have to go anywhere else in here today though once Sherlock found out about it, he sincerely doubted it.

After one more deep breath, Lestrade headed in the direction of book shop trying to think of all the books he should get that would help him explain to Sherlock what the Wizarding World was about and not just who Harry was to the people of the Wizarding World. In fact, Lestrade had no doubt that Sherlock was going to rip these books to pieces about their inaccuracies and he couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

A few moments later, he arrived at the book shop, Flourish and Blotts, and walked in. He looked around. It hasn't changed much since the last time he visited the shop.

"Good afternoon," said the assistant walking over to him and bowing. It must have been a slow day.

"Afternoon," said Lestrade.

"Can I help you?" asked the assistant.

Lestrade shrugged to himself. It might make the book shopping go faster, he hated any kind of shopping as much as the next bloke, and so he nodded his head and said, "Sure." He told the assistant what he was looking for.

The assistant nodded his head and said, "Ah interested in our history, are you?" He started to head over to the books that he needed.

Lestrade shrugged and said, "It's for a friend." It wasn't a lie.

"I see," said the assistant, looking at the shelves. "Well, here is Modern Magical History," he handed it over to Lestrade to hold for the moment, "and here is The Rise and Fall of the Dark Art and Great Wizarding Events of the Twenty-First Century. You're lucky these ones are all close together. We're redoing our system tomorrow." He handed the other two books over as well.

"Yeah," said Lestrade, unable to stop the unlucky feeling he was feeling.

The assistant moved to a different section, continuing to make small talk as he looked for the books that Lestrade requested.

Lestrade, himself, had never truly appreciated Sherlock's, and even John's, silence when doing something until this very moment. Lestrade would never complain again. Well, only if Sherlock wasn't too annoying beforehand he wouldn't complain.

Thirty long minutes later, Lestrade and the assistant, Lestrade didn't think the man offered his name nor did he wear a name badge like they did in the Muggle World, were finally done walking all over the store to collect all the books he wanted and finally he could pay and go. Lestrade walked up to the counter and the assistant put his books in the bag and told him how much it was. The price wasn't too bad and he still had some coins left over to show Sherlock, John and Harry. Now it was time for him to leave.

"Thank you for your help," said Lestrade gratefully, taking the bags of books. And he was grateful. He was sure that if the assistant hadn't offered to help, he would still be looking for the books he wanted. He just wished it was done sans all the small talk.

"It was no problem, sir," said the assistant, bowing once more as Lestrade took his leave.

Lestrade wasted no time in heading for the entrance back into the Leaky Cauldron. Even though he had fifteen minutes to spare before Tom had said he was going to open the archway, Lestrade wanted to sit by himself and gather his thoughts, now that he had actually been back inside he Wizarding World again after all those years away. He also knew that he would be undisturbed as no self-respecting wizard would sit in front of the archway as most purebloods would never do business this late in the day and it was the middle of the work day for everyone else.

On arrival back at the archway, he sat down and took a deep, somewhat shaky breath, wondering how in the world this was all going to work out for him now that his past was starting to come back to haunt him.

Mycroft's office

Now that the immediate Sherlock crisis was handled at the bank as well as the aftermath and a plan was in place and being taken care of along with hourly updates, Mycroft could now turn back to the paperwork that he had abandoned when he first got news of the bank situation.

He was just getting through his first half hour of paperwork, when his phone rang.

Without looking to see who was calling, assuming it was his assistant with an update, Mycroft picked up his phone and said, "Mycroft Holmes."

"Mycroft Holmes, what are they saying on the news about there being causalities at the bank? It's not Sherlock is it?" said the voice on the phone, sounding panicked.

"Mummy," said Mycroft trying to calm her down, he had forgotten to call Mummy to let her know Sherlock was all right, "Mummy, he's fine. I swear. It was the robbers and another hostage but not Sherlock. He's fine, unharmed and his usual charming self."

"Don't insult your brother when he is not there to defend himself, Mycroft. Are you sure he's fine? What about his flatmate and his Detective Inspector friend? Are they fine too? You know how he gets when the few friends he has are threatened or hurt," said Mummy in a hurry.

"Mummy," said Mycroft sounding placating, "I swear he is fine. In fact, I'll send him a message to call you so you can assess his health for yourself. Plus, he's got news he wants to tell you and I would hate to spoil that for him. As for his flatmate, John is perfectly fine as is Detective Inspector Lestrade."

Mummy let out a sigh of relief at that and said, "If you're sure?"

"I'm sure, Mummy," said Mycroft, smiling at nothing.

"That's good. What news does Sherlock have to tell me?" asked Mummy, now in her calm and collected voice that he was used to hearing.

"I would hate to spoil it for him, I really would. You should ask him that when he calls you," said Mycroft.

"His phone is broken and dead," said Mummy flatly.

"I've had a new one given to him before he left my office to replace his broken one," said Mycroft as if it were obvious.

"He didn't throw it away? Do you have the number?" asked Mummy and she sounded shocked when she asked the first question.

"No, he didn't throw it away and yes, I do," said Mycroft slowly.

"Give it to me," said Mummy at once. "If I wait for your brother to call me, I would probably be dead or have one foot in the grave. It would be much simpler for me to call him."

"True," said Mycroft after a minute of thinking about what his mother had just said. He gave her the number.

"Thank you, Mycroft," said Mummy.

"It is not a problem, Mummy," said Mycroft.

"I'll let you get back to work. Try not to work too hard and next time, inform me that your brother is okay and do not let me find out on the news!" said Mummy, sternly.

"Never Mummy and I will," promised Mycroft and they hung up.

A moment later, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," said Mycroft.

"Sir," said Anthea. "We've got a confirmation from a representative of their Legal Department. Someone will be able to take the time to speak with you in three days. That's the best they said they could do for us."

Mycroft couldn't keep the snort in. Three days? This was important information!

He shook his head and said, "Very well. Have you heard anything about getting me an appointment to go out to there?"

Anthea shook her head and said, "They haven't gotten back to me yet, sir. Apparently, it's a different department."

Mycroft took a deep breath in and said, again, "Very well. Keep working on it."

"Of course, sir." Anthea left his office, shutting the door firmly behind her, which went to show Mycroft just how much his assistant hated getting the run around from those people.

He hated it as well but there wasn't much he could do about it right now until he actually saw someone and he could let them fully appreciate why he was called the Iceman, even among coworkers.

Mycroft returned to his paperwork, wondering if things were just going to get worse with Harry Potter now in the picture.

Lestrade, after he had calmed his raging emotions of being back in the Wizarding World and just in time to be let in by Tom, who was on time to let him in, walked through the archway. He took off his borrowed cloak and handed it back to Tom with a quick thanks.

"You should stay for a late lunch," said Tom, taking the cloak and hanging it up on the rack that was beside the door to head back inside the Leaky Cauldron.

"I'll have to take a rain check," said Lestrade.

Tom raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"No, I will. I suspect I will be back, much sooner than I like after I give and explain certain points to my friend," said Lestrade.

"Friend? I thought it was for a colleague," said Tom, raising his eyebrow even higher.

"Once you meet him, you'll understand my problems with classifying him," said Lestrade drily.

Tom let out a laugh and said, shaking Lestrade's hand, "All right. I can see you have had some rough past few days. Take care, Greg Lestrade."

"Later," said Lestrade, returning the handshake, and he walked back into the Leaky Cauldron, through it and out the front door.

Once outside, he flagged down a cab to take him to Scotland Yard so he could get his car and finally go home and sleep. He needed it.

As soon as he arrived at Scotland Yard, he paid the cabbie, with a good tip as he got him there fairly quickly, and headed straight for his car. He unlocked his car, opened the door, got in and looked, as a habit he always had, over to his front passenger seat and noticed a mobile sitting there with a note on top of it.

Cautiously he took the note off the mobile and read it, before snorting. Of course, Mycroft Holmes would feel the need to replace his phone, creepy as it was to leave it like this, though he had a sneaking suspicion that he bugged it. He would have to have someone check it for him.

He decided to do one last thing before he left to go home, to get it out of the way now, and that was to call Sherlock and John to let them know when he would be stopping by their flat tomorrow.

Lestrade picked up his phone, which was fully charged, and went through the contact list, which someone had helpfully programmed to have all his contacts from his old phone in there, to find Sherlock's number. He called it. After ringing several times, it went to voicemail.

Lestrade decided to leave a voicemail, and said, "Despite the fact I find it very creepy that your brother left me a mobile on the front seat of my car, which was locked by the way, as a replacement for the one that I lost in the bank, I'm calling to let you know that I'll be by your flat tomorrow morning around nine to explain everything to you, John and Harry. I'll see you then."

He hung up and then decided to call John, just in case Sherlock ignored the voicemail. His call to John as well rang several times before going to voicemail, which had Lestrade leaving a similar voicemail to him.

That done, Lestrade finally drove home and slept.