So... Update! Finally. Sorry for taking so long, I had something similar to an authors block, but luckily a very thoughtful fanfiction writer, Blizaaard, helped me. A lot. They pointed out several plot-holes and helped me with several theories... Basically, just gave me the ideas for the next few chapters. (Thank you so much, btw)

Soooooooo... You have to thank mangadragon10122 for this update... They kept pushing me forward to update for which I am thankful... Cause if they hadn't done that... I'd probably be studying. Which I probably should do...

Rubbing at his eyes harshly to keep himself awake, Sebastian stretched his limbs out before him, fingertips skimming over the screen of his lap top. Said laptop, was displaying a text written in white on a black background... more commonly known as a 'cmd'.

His fingers were numb, due to the fact that he'd been typing for over three days straight, searching for any irregularities out there in the database. Somehow, Sebastian was sure that his eyes were puffy and red, perhaps because he'd only blinked about a dozen of times since he'd sat down at the computer. His throat was dry and smaking his lips together, he concluded that his lips had dried up as well.

Smirking at the screen, Sebastian slowly stood up, wincing at the pain which echoed throughout his body and at the sound of his joints falling back into their places. It was worth it though. Just about four days ago, Jim had sent him an email, so thoroughly encrypted, Sebastian had had a hard time discovering what it meant. Through it, Sebastian had been ordered to find information on any criminal organizations around Britain and several other European countries. To what end, Sebastian had absolutely no idea.

Three days of constant typing had paid off though. He'd been able to find several pages of information about the most powerful criminals in Britain and their affairs. Particularly their bank affairs. He didn't know what, but something attracted him towards banks. Perhaps it was the reason why he'd been able to find a large ghost company.

After a little digging, he'd found that the government had donated a very large sum of money to a ghost company which claimed they produced copyrights for people. Hacking their company network had been easy. After trying out several combinations of passwords, Sebastian had ended up on 62442.

The only thing though, on the network, had been a list of names - perhaps employees and after researching them, the only thing Sebastian had ended up with, was a bunch of people who'd gone to some sort of private, elite school up in the north. Some didn't even exist at all, the only thing they had was a birth-cetrificate.

After pondering this for quite a while, Sebastian had decided to search the database for any other people with the same credentials. He'd ended up with a list of over a million people. It was as if... they all belonged to some sort of secret society... and it worried Sebastian.

Perhaps that was why he'd instantly sent Jim all the evidence... After all, Jim deserved to know the fact that a whole secret society lived under their very noses.

Trotting over to the kitchen in his flat, Sebastian made himself a cup of tea, smiling dreamily as he inhaled the 'earl-gray smelling steam'. Then sipping his hot beverage slowly, he glanced at his coat lying on the kitchen chair.

It was at these moments that Sebastian wished he smoked. Hadn't Jim always said that the feeling of nicotine flowing through the body relaxed him incredibly well? Shaking his head, Sebastian turned away from the coat, trying to fend off the temptation to get a pack of cigarettes from the kiosk at the corner. His mother had been killed because of lung cancer - she'd smoked too much - and Sebastian would kill himself before he tried a smoke.

Besides, weren't nicotine patches more 'in' now? Well, obviously, if Jim was using them, they had to be some good. He was jerked out of his thoughts by a loud, impatient knock on the door. Frowning slightly, he glanced at the clock hanging above the sink, he'd just sent Jim the email... surely he couldn't have come so quickly... Was he expecting anyone?

Taking another sip of the now lukewarm tea, he set the cup down on the kitchen counter, and slowly, sluggishly made his way to the door, pausing only for a moment to flip the laptop shut.

Standing at the door were two gentlemen, both dressed in the most peculiar clothes Sebastian had ever seen. They looked a little like robes, but they were open at the front, revealing some sort of scale-y armour... Possibly lizard? The oddest thing however, were the sticks they were holding.

Obviously, they had to be something important as they were both different lengths, styles and woods. Both were shiny and looked very well taken care of. But who would bother with... polishing a stick? Was it some sort of cult?

"Sebastian Moran?" The first man asked - a red-head with a scar running diagonally across his face.

"Yeah, who's asking?" He said with narrowed eyes as he considered them both, they looked strong, and they were tall, taller than him anyway.

"Erm... Department of... er... justice." Said the other man - a dark-skinned bloke who was holding up a badge. "I'm Agent Dean Thomas. That's my colleague Ron Weasley. We're here about some questions about the er...-"

"Department of justice?" Sebastian asked as his mind raced, had he triggered some sort of alarm while hacking all of those files and bank accounts? Had he messed up?

"Yeah." Said Weasley, raising his arm, and pointing the stick at Sebastian's forehead. Something that made Sebastian frown. How was that supposed to be threatening? "You accessed some stuff you shouldn't have, Moran. Obliviate."


Harry frowned as he read over the papers Moran had sent to him... that man had done his research quite thoroughly. Now all he had to do was infiltrate the different small communities, attack the leaders, put them under his thumb, and make them subservient. Yup, easy.

Leaning back into his armchair, Harry shuffled through the papers, trying to find the one Moran had underlined as 'very interesting'. It was interesting though. Apparently, some Muggle company, named Master of Mug, was receiving enormous amounts of money from the British Government. The only question that kept revolving around Harry's mind was why? Well, that and who in their right mind would call a company Master of Mug?

Seriously, even a wizard could have done better- oh. Slowly, very slowly a smile stretched across Harry's face as he smiled down at his laptop. Master of Mug-gles. MoM. Ministry of Magic. Well shit.

Gleefully, Harry rubbed his hands together, the British muggle government was giving the Ministry of Magic money... the reason probably being reparation. After the war most of magical Britain had been destroyed, many old ancient structures which had been there for years, had been turned into rubble. Obviously, the Ministry needed money. In a way, Harry was surprised that the wizards had decided to borrow or even touch anything that the muggles made. Who knew what a riot the purebloods would make if they found out that the only reason their world was currently standing on two legs (albeit two very wounded legs) was because of the muggles.

His train of thought was interrupted as the large oak doors of his study swung open and two people stepped in.

One was Magnussen, standing tall and proud as usual, palms repeatedly swiping up and down on his trouser leg, to get rid of the sweat. The other person was a short-ish woman, very serious looking, and slightly Slavic. She was dressed in the typical 'army officer' clothes... And after noticing the almost unnoticeable buldge on her hip, Harry concluded she was armed, with at least two guns, and judging by the way she stepped into the room, there were two other knives strapped to her calves.

She held herself in a way which reminded Harry of a tiger, or a lioness ready to strike, yet alert and taking in every single thing around her.

So... This was the assassin he'd ordered Magnussen to find. With a small gesture of his hand, which rested against his head, Harry commanded Magnussen to leave. The man instantly did so, but with a confused frown marring his face. As soon as the door closed behind him, Harry stood up and smiled disarmingly at the woman before pulling out his hand to shake hers.

"Good afternoon, Miss Abbington. Please take a seat."

Amanda Gervais Rousseau Abbington, aka AGRA, was a well known assassin - well in the darker and more influential parts of London. According to Magnussen she very disciplined and constructed very convincing murders, making them look like accidents... or health issues.

The woman gingerly sat, looking suspiciously around her, eyes finally falling on Harry who had reseated himself.

"I have been told by my sources that you're a very capable assassin, Miss Abbington - I only wish to know whether you are also loyal."

Her face didn't reveal any kind of emotion, and when she smiled - it was cold and didn't reach her eyes. "And I've been told by mine that you're a very contradicting criminal. What is it that you do? You don't seem to be actively doing anything."

"Ah," Harry smiled thinly back at her, narrowing his eyes when he saw her rubbing at her fingers, more specifically at lumps. "I fancy myself a sort of... consulting criminal." He paused, seeing the first emotion reach her eyes - curiosity. "When people have information, or resources, or interesting ideas, they come to me."

Abbington's eyes narrowed again as she took him in. "So what do you need me for? I'm well off on my own, I don't need your help and I'm not important enough for you to need me as a contact."

Harry smiled, a small plan forming in his head as he did so. "It's actually quite simple," He said in an indulging voice, "I know about your life - your whole life, who you've cheated, who you've killed... Hell, I know who you've had sex with!" Harry intertwined his fingers, still smiling at her pleasantly, "I also happen to know that you have cancer, but you can't get treatment because the moment you walk through the doors of a hospital, you will be compromised. I believe you are... sixth most undersireble criminal in the UK. Not bad."

A vague emotion crossed her face, which Harry briefly recognized as terror.

"How did you know? About the cancer?"
Harry glanced down at her hands, and smirked knowingly, "Lumps in your fingers - they're itching. One of the main signs of liver failure is itching. The fact that you have lumps in your fingers, indicates that you most probably have cancer... So that leaves us with liver cancer," With a shrug, he raised his eyes back to meet hers, which were slightly wider, "It's elementary really."

There was a long pause and Harry briefly tapped his foot against the floor, letting her know that he was getting impatient.

"What do you want?" She finally asked, leaning back into her chair tiredly.

"I propose a deal." He paused dramatically, but was cut off before he could say anything else.

"What. Do. You. Want?" She asked through gritted teeth. He grinned back, enjoying the feeling of power he held over her... It was an addiction really... and he'd been denied off it while he'd been in Ireland.

"I'll get you a new identity, cancer treatment, and a good financial status - so that you can start your life anew... I'll delete all records of you of the database," Harry pulled out the documents in the respective order. First a passport, which declared that the woman was of English decent and that her name was Mary Morstan, the second was a stack of papers from 'The Royal Marsden' - one of the best cancer treatment hospitals in the world, and the third stack of papers was her new bank statement.

"What do you want?" She repeated a third time... but by now, Harry had noticed that her eyes were greedily staring at the documents on his desk.

"I want you to kill Agnes and Alsger Magnussen."

So... I hope that was a sort-of-cliffhanger...

I bet you're wondering why Harry wants to kill Magnussen's parents... Hmmm... all will be revealed in the next chapter. XD

Also.. I hope you were surprised by Mary's entrance... I've been wondering how to incorporate her into the story. It sort of explains Magnussen's hate towards her XD

I've been watching a lot of House md... Soooooo sorry for adding medicine into the story... I just love that series so much.

Oh, and the password that Seb M used to hack into the website is actually 'Magic'. like, if you dial the numbers on a phone those are the letters that will come up. I got the idea from the telephone box which leads to the ministry of magic. XD

So yeah... next chapter... MAGIC!