1 - In Which James Moriarty Commits The Most Heinous Crime Of His Existence And Doesn't Even Know It, Ryuk The Shinigami Experiences Great Lost, Draco Malfoy Is Filled With Desire For Something Other Than Harry Potter, And We See The Fanfiction Equivalent Of The Assassination Of Archduke Franz Ferdinand
James Moriarty was not having a good day. Woken up first thing in the morning by a call from one of his agents, the breakfast news consisted of, 'The Cabbie serial killer you hired is dead, and Sherlock Holmes knows your name.'
After the subsequent half-an-hour of screaming, throwing things and turning the messenger into a very nice pair of shoes, James got dressed and went for a walk. He strolled through London for a bit, passing a load of the supposedly secret wizards that were on summer holidays coming out of Diagon Alley. It wasn't hard to deduce their existence, even if Sherlock Holmes was still ignorant; the amount of unexplained occurrences in the world was almost zero if you factored the existence of magic and the Wizarding class. Moriarty didn't bother with them much, and they didn't bother with him. It was a profitable arrangement for both sides; Moriarty didn't want magic messing up his plans, and the Wizarding community didn't want to have to deal with Moriarty as well as Lord Voldemort.
It was as he passed Diagon Alley that he saw the apple.
It was floating in mid air above a bench, and suddenly Moriarty felt an immense desire to possess it. It just looked so… red, and juicy, and crunchy. A fine specimen if ever there was one. Moriarty felt his mouth watering even as he just looked at it, and it took him a while to register that it was, in fact, floating in mid air.
A magic apple, he thought to himself, mind instantly whirling through a series of possibilities and settling on the most likely; it was a wizard playing a prank and enchanting an apple.
Well, finders keepers.
Moriarty's hand snaked out and took the apple.
Ryuk the Shinigami sat on the bench, holding his apple, just gazing at it. So red, so juicy. He could hardly wait to eat it, but it seemed a crime to eat it just yet. Not when it was a thing of such incredible beauty. It was the single most beautiful apple he had ever seen in the human realm, and he intended to savour it. The smell called out to him, and the smooth feel of the unblemished skin under his fingers sent a shiver down his spine. Such a beautiful apple…
And then Ryuk was dragged back to reality when the apple was snatched from his grasp.
Instantly he jumped into the air in shock. Who dared to steal his apple? Who dared to take the apple of a Shinigami?
Ryuk saw the man, walking along, looking greedily at the apple. His apple.
His name was James Moriarty.
Instantly Ryuk's eyes narrowed.
The man who stole his apple.
Instantly his hands went to his Death Note, and it was open in his hand, the pen touching the paper, when Ryuk realised a rather critical plot point.
A Shinigami can not shorten the lifespan of another human in order to extend that of a human.
And while Ryuk wasn't certain, he suspected that the same was true of apples.
Juicy as that apple obviously was, Ryuk wasn't willing to die in order to get it back.
So he would just have to get it back by himself.
Putting his Death Note back in it's holder, Ryuk sprouted his wings and followed the human called James Moriarty, waiting for a chance to get his apple back.
Draco Malfoy was enjoying his summer holidays. Having finally won the affections of the Gryffindor seeker Harry James Potter, and come out to his father and the rest of Hogwarts with varying degrees of success, he was strutting around London in his brand new, leather hot-pants and corset (the drag queen behind the counter had assured him they were for men), with Harry Potter a little behind him, trying not to look embarrassed.
"You know, Harry, I think we should get you something in leather. You'd look good… maybe a catsuit, or even those leather tights you see the rock stars wearing. Those, some cowboy boots…"
Harry grumbled a reply that sounded something like 'gayornotI'mnotcompletelydevoidofselfre spectandoyu'llnevercatchmeinthoseridicul ousclothes', and Draco waved it away with a gay flick of his hand.
"Well you rejected the fedora and waistcoat, so I'm having to pursue other fashions now, Harry darling. You really are a pain to shop for; you're just not fabulous enough. So sexy, but so typically modest. You need to…"
Draco trailed off, and his head turned away from Harry, who looked confused.
"Draco? Hello, Earth to Draco? Draco Malfoy, I'm right here! What are you looking at that's more interesting than me?"
But Draco didn't even hear him; he was looking at the apple.
Draco had experienced attraction to an apple before, back when he was letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts. The luscious, light green apple had been so perfectly smooth and just the right combination of bitter and sweet… it had been delectable. But the apple Draco beheld now was a true God. Larger than the common apple, with glistening, red skin with just the right amount of gloss. Draco knew from one look that underneath that red skin was succulent, white flesh, sweet and juicy and delicious. He had to have it. Draco wanted that apple more than he wanted anything else in the world. Except for possibly that kinky leather robe Snape had in his… no, even more than that. He desired that apple like fangirls desire Drarry. There was just one problem.
Somebody else was holding the apple.
He was rather short, with short black hair, a slight amount of stubble, dressed in a sharp, black suit. Rather good looking for a Muggle, but still… he was holding the apple.
How was a Muggle like him more deserving of that apple than him? I mean, he was Draco Malfoy; Slytherin's top student, Wizard millionaire, boyfriend to the Boy-Who-Lived, Slytherin Seeker and the resident Hogwarts God of Sex. Adored by students and fangirls alike, he had more graphic online fanfics written about him than there were rules in the bible, more shirtless artwork than Jesus, more adoring female fans than Justin Bieber and abs harder than solid diamond. What did this Muggle have?
As it turned out, he had the apple.
And this fact made Draco very sad.
Until he realised that as he had magic, he could simply summon the apple.
Drawing his wand, he wielded it with a flourish.
"Accio apple!" he said, and could almost taste the apple already when he realised that nothing had happened. The apple was still in the hands of that Muggle.
This would call for some more planning, Draco thought to himself.