Harriett Potter and the Tale of the Three Brothers

Harriett Potter is Harry Potter's older sister. She feels like she has a duty to protect her brother from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. When Harriett finds about the Deathly Hallows and his want for them, she finds the perfect opportunity to change fate. She goes off in search for the Hallows, hoping against hope that it will be worth it for her brother, but the adventures on the way make it so much better.


7. 221 Baker Street

Date: 1st December 2009

Location: London


"217, 219, 221. There you are." Harriett muttered to herself as she strolled down Baker Street, searching for the address that the man had given her.

She couldn't really believe that she was actually doing it. She didn't really understand why she was doing it if she was honest with herself. She barely knew anything about the two men except they were called John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock was a consulting detective, John was an army doctor and is now just a normal doctor and Sherlock's detective partner. They both had very peculiar blogs on the internet (the nurse had shown her) and both shared a flat under the address of 221B Baker Street, London.

Harriett walked up the steps, readjusting the bag on her shoulder at the same time. She glanced up and down the street before knocking on the door.

It opened almost immediately to reveal an older woman with greying hair and a flowery apron wrapped round her.

"Hello." The woman said, smiling at her.

"Hi." Harriett replied. "I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson."

"Ah right, well, I think they're both out at the moment. If you don't mind me asking, what do you want them for?" The woman asked.

"I'm the girl that they saved the other day..."

"Oh yes, John told me about you. According to John, Sherlock is quite concerned for you. You must mean something to him because he doesn't show concern very often."

Harriett blinked and watched the woman for a moment.

"My name's Mrs Hudson by the way." The woman- Mrs Hudson- said.


She looked up and down the street before Mrs Hudson finally realised what she should do to a visitor.

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry, do come in." Mrs Hudson stepped back to let Harriett inside. She closed the door behind Harriett and pointed to flat A. "That one's mine. You can come in and have some tea if you would like? I'm sure John and Sherlock won't be long."

Harriett followed Mrs Hudson into the downstairs flat, drinking in her surroundings on the way.

"Excuse me, Mrs Hudson?" Harriett asked as they entered the flat and Mrs Hudson busied herself with making some tea.

"Mm?" She mumbled, not turning away from the cupboard.

"What year is it?" Harriett felt a bit stupid asking such a question, but she desperately wanted to know how far forward she had gone.

"Sorry?" Mrs Hudson turned around, brandishing a tea-spoon. "I think you must have been injured worse than the hospital thought. What exactly happened to you?"

Harriett watched Mrs Hudson steadily. "What year is it?" She asked again.

Mrs Hudson sighed in exasperation, "the date is the first of December 2009."

"Oh right..." Harriett said slowly, looking down at the time-turner in her hand.

Mrs Hudson turned back to making the tea to leave Harriett in peace for a moment. Harriett examined the time-turner, puzzled as how she could have gone forward eighteen years without even being aware of her time travelling. She cast her mind back to the moment where she was stood on a deserted hill near Hogsmeade with Dumbledore. They had climbed up to the hill that overlooked the Shrieking Shack so that she could disapperate quietly. Then Dumbledore had given her the time-turner and told her to pick a place and date to begin looking. She hadn't had any idea where to begin looking, so she just punched in some random numbers and hoped for the best. So this is where her random-number-punching had gotten her- eighteen years in to the future in Baker Street, London. Well, it was a good a place as any to begin looking, and besides, she quite liked Sherlock and John.

"So, where're you from?" Mrs Hudson placed two teas on the table along with a plate of biscuits and a bowl of sugar.

"Richmond." Harriett replied, naming her home borough.

"Ooh, interesting. Which street? I've been there once before, a long time ago, and it seemed quite pleasant." Mrs Hudson stirred some sugar into her tea.

"Ashley Gardens. I live with my aunt and uncle, although I also attend boarding school." Harriett answered, taking the biscuit that Mrs Hudson offered.

"Oh, what happened to your parents?" She asked, looking up. "If you don't mind me asking." She added so as not to seem rude.

"They died when I was little. They were murdered and my brother was injured, but I was at a sleepover at the time and escaped."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Mrs Hudson said, giving her the concerned look that only women can give.

Harriett was spared from thinking of anything else to say by the sound of the outside door opening. Two male voices could be heard discussing something about a murder. Harriett recognised the two voices as Sherlock and John's, but a third unknown voice joined in with them for a couple of minutes before the voice faded out the block again.

"It sounds like Sherlock and John are back," Mrs Hudson noted, "shall we go up and see them?"

"Sure." Harriett stood up, pulling her bag back on to her shoulder.

She followed Mrs Hudson up the stairs to flat B, and went straight in the living room that belonged to Sherlock and John.

"Ah, Harriett! I do apologise that we weren't here to receive you." Sherlock announced when he spotted her standing in the doorway to his living room.

Harriett shrugged a dismissal at Sherlock and looked up the stairs that was placed at her right. She presumed that it led up to flat C, although, did John and Sherlock really share one flat together?

"Hello Harriett." John greeted her, coming from one of the bedrooms. "How are you?"

"I'm fine thank you." She answered John politely. "So, where am I staying?"

"Well, if it's all right with Mrs Hudson, you can stay in flat C. It has been empty for a while because nobody wants to live above us." Sherlock said.

He was not looking at her, but rather wandering around the flat, pinning photographs and illustrations to one of the walls. She noticed that this wall had bullet holes in it and a yellow smiley face spray-painted on it.

"That is fine by me." Mrs Hudson said. "I'll show you the flat, it might need a bit of cleaning, but I can help with that. Although, I would be grateful if you would remember that I am your landlady, not your housekeeper." She gave a meaningful look to Sherlock, who purposely avoided her gaze.

"Come on then." John said to Harriett, leading the way up the stairs. "It's alright Mrs Hudson, I'll show her around and help her clean."

"Oh you are a darling." Mrs Hudson beamed at John. She turned to Harriett, "these two are very peculiar people. Sometimes, they can be out until goodness knows what time of the morning, and Sherlock can often be a bit loud, especially when he's bored and in possession of a gun." She indicated the bullet holes in the wall. "But, other than their slight flaws, I'm sure you'll agree that they're perfectly wonderful people to live near."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Harriett assured her.

Mrs Hudson nodded and turned back down the stairs to her own flat. Harriett looked back at Sherlock who was now staring at the new additions to his wall, before following John up the stairs to her new temporary home.


Harriett rolled over in her bed and looked at the clock on her bedside table. It claimed that it was 4:45am. Harriett groaned and turned back over to try to get back to sleep.

5:01. Harriett rolled on to her back and sighed in annoyance. Clearly, she wasn't going to get any more sleep this night. She sat up and stretched, yawning loudly at the same time. It was still dark outside and the only sound from the building was Sherlock pacing in the flat below.

Harriett climbed out of bed and staggered over to her wardrobe. She pulled out a suitable outfit, and took the clothes to the bathroom with her.

Twenty minutes later, Sherlock was still pacing and Harriett was showered and dressed. She glanced at the clock again before descending the stairs.

"Good morning." Harriett said to Sherlock's back.

He jumped and spun round to face her.

"Oh, God, sorry, I didn't hear you. You're up early." Sherlock remarked.

"Mm, I couldn't sleep." Harriett glanced round the messy living room, "what are you doing?"

"Thinking." He crossed the room to his collection of photographs, and pointed at one of a... dead body? "This woman was murdered three days ago. I'm trying to work out who did it."

"How did she die?" Harriett asked, inspecting the photo.

"Poisoned. The police are telling people that they committed suicide, but John and I believe that someone made them do it."

"They?" Harriett noted.

Sherlock pointed to two other photos of dead people that were also pinned to the wall. Harriett frowned at one in particular. It was of a boy, aged about twenty, fairly good looking and very familiar.

"Who's that?" She asked, pointing out the picture to Sherlock.

"Jasper Manning." Sherlock looked at her closely. "Why do you ask?"

"I just... I kind of recognise him. Maybe he went to my school or something. I don't know, don't worry about it, I could be mistaken." Harriett shook her head and turned away to investigate the rest of the information that was on the wall.

"What are you going to do today?" Sherlock asked her.

Harriett had been staying at 221 Baker Street for two months now, and every single morning, without fail, Sherlock had asked her what she was doing that day. Of course, she had been wandering the streets of London looking for any sign of any of the Deathly Hallows. Sherlock did not need to know about the objects and her magical abilities, although, she had a strange feeling that he had already found out.

"Not sure. Probably going to..." Harriett quickly glanced at the map of London on the wall, "Kensington. I haven't been there yet."

Sherlock had, of course, spotted her glancing at the map, and also noticed her slight pause of hesitation. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"What are you actually looking for?"

"Now that's really none of your business is it?" Harriett asked, angrily turning her back on him to read the titles of his books.

"Harriett..." Sherlock began.

"Just leave it." Harriett interrupted, turning away and stomping back up the stairs.

She heard Mrs Hudson come up from her flat a few moments later and ask Sherlock who was 'stomping up the stairs at five thirty in the morning.' Harriett glared at her door and sank on the floor at the foot of her sofa. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back to rest for a while and clear her anger out. How dare Sherlock pry so much into her private business!

"Harriett?" Sherlock's hesitant voice came from the other side of her door.

Harriett stayed silent. Part of her wanted him to come in and talk to her about it, but part of her wanted him to go away and leave her alone.

"May I come in?" Harriett still stayed silent. "I just want to ask you something."

Harriett hesitated. What harm could it do? But it depended on what he wanted to ask her. She had vowed to Professor Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic that she wouldn't give out information to people who didn't need it. However, Sherlock was a consulting detective. He might be able to help her, and she was quite interested in his job as well.

"Fine. Come in." Harriett said, not bothering to stand up. Her door was unlocked anyway.

Sherlock pushed the door open and quickly spotted her positioned on the floor. He shut the door behind him and came over to sit on the floor beside her. He gave her a sidelong glance and appeared almost... human? Could Sherlock Holmes still have some human behind that disguise?

"What is it you wanted to ask?" Harriett said, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

"When were you born?"

That was not what Harriett had expected. All right, so he wanted to do it the long way round. Fine, she may as well give him entertainment at the same time.

"Thirteenth September."

"Year?" Sherlock said.

Harriett hesitated. This would give everything away.

"1976." She said, avoiding Sherlock's gaze.

Harriett saw, out the corner of her eye, Sherlock raise his eyebrows, doing the math.

"So, in September, you'll be...?"

"Don't even try to do that. Please. It will get complicated." Harriett sighed, looking at Sherlock. "Let's just say that I have a device that allows me to travel through time. I jumped forward eighteen years, okay?"

"Okay. So why?" She could see Sherlock just deciding to accept the idea of time travel and move on to what he really wanted to know.

"I'm... Looking for something. Three somethings actually." Harriett replied, fiddling with the time-turner that was suddenly in her hand.

Sherlock glanced down at her hand. "Is that it? The thing that made you come to this time."

"Yeah. It's a time-turner." Harriett replied distractedly.

"Right. So what are the objects that you're looking for?" Seriously. This man was determined.

Harriett got up and fetched the book from her bedroom. She flicked through to find the right pages and sat back down next to Sherlock. She presented the book to him and he began to read it.

There was silence for several minutes in which Harriett continued to play with the time-turner and Sherlock continued to read. The silence was broken every so often with a page turning.

"Okay, so you're looking for the objects that Death gave to those men?" Sherlock asked, closing Tales of Beedle the Bard and examining the cover.


"Um... So they're real?" Sherlock questioned, handing the book back to Harriett.

"Of course they're real!" Harriett cried, placing the book on the sofa behind her. "That's why I'm here, I'm looking for them."

"But... a wand? A resurrection stone? A cloak that makes the wearer invisible? But that's impossible!" Sherlock said.

"Excuse me?" Harriett raised her eyebrows and folded her arms, allowing the time-turner to drop into her lap. "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

"I have eliminated the impossible! Those objects just cannot be possible! Magic isn't real!" Sherlock cried, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

Harriett stared at him stonily for a moment before going to her bedroom again. She came back into the living room and sat back down next to Sherlock, holding her wand.

"What is that?" Sherlock asked, eyeing the wand suspiciously.

Harriett ignored them and instead conjured her patronus for Sherlock to see some magic, otherwise impossible to do without magical ability. The wolf jumped out the end of her wand, circled the room and came and stood in front of them. As there were no dementors present, the wolf howled and faded with a puff of silvery smoke. Sherlock sat in a stunned silence for a moment.

"What was that? Did you just make that appear with that thing in your hand?" Sherlock asked, indicating her wand.

"That was a patronus. It is conjured to fight off dementors. And yes, I just used the patronus charm to make it come from my wand." Harriett replied, knowing that he probably won't have a clue what she's on about anyway.

"Okay." Sherlock took a moment to take it in, and Harriett sat in silence, allowing him to do so. "Can you show me some more? Only this time, can you say the incantation? I want to hear what it sounds like."

Harriett considered for a moment. "Aguamenti."

A jet of water sprayed out from the end of her wand, soaking both her and Sherlock.

"Water? Really? That's cool." Sherlock didn't even bat an eyelid at the fact that he was now dripping wet. "Show me another."

Goodness, he was like a small child.

"Only one more." Harriett told him. She pointed her wand at a piece of paper that had been abandoned in the middle of the floor. "Confringo."

The piece of paper burst into flame, and Harriett immediately used Aguamenti to douse the fire.

"Do you want something to eat?" Sherlock asked as if she had merely shown her pet do a vaguely fascinating trick.

"Sure." Harriett replied.

Sherlock began to stand up to go and get something from the kitchen.

"Let me." Harriett said. "Accio biscuits."

The biscuit tin flew towards them from the direction of the kitchen. Harriett ducked and the tin crashed into the sofa cushions behind her head.


21st January 2010


"Do you have to go?" John asked Harriett, as she descended the stairs from her flat.

"Yes John. I've looked everywhere that I can think of them being so I have to move on now. I can call you now because I have a mobile phone now." Harriett glanced at Sherlock, who was watching her steadily, a neutral expression on his face. "I'll come and visit you when I reach this time in real time. I promise."

John reached over and gave Harriett a hug, wiping a stray tear off his cheek when he pulled away. Sherlock looked at John sympathetically before turning to Harriett. She held out her arms and Sherlock stepped into them, giving her a hug too.

"I'll see you then." Harriett said, turning away to go down the stairs.

"It's alright, we'll come out with you." Sherlock said.

Harriett, shocked, looked back at him smiling. John nodded and both men followed her down the stairs to the front door. Mrs Hudson came out her flat to investigate.

"Oh, are you off?" She asked Harriett.

"Yes. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here." Harriett pulled an envelope out of her pocket. It contained some Muggle money to pay for her rent. "Here." She handed it to Mrs Hudson.

"Thank you dear, and you're very much welcome back any time you would like." Mrs Hudson pulled her into a hug and patted her back.

Harriett pulled the outside door open and waved to the three people before strolling down Baker Street, looking for a private place to hail the Knight Bus.

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