Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter.

Betas: Lady of the Shards and 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!

Interlude 2

Unknown location – Moriarty

All the plans were set, a few tiny details needed to be worked out yet but the big plans were ready to be implemented. Now to set them in motion... This was going to be fun!

"Sir," said his sniper coming into the room.

"Yes?" he said, not bothering to look up from his masterpiece.

"I just wanted to confirm before placing the actual order with our seller – you wanted Semtex?" asked the sniper.

"Yes – though I want enough now to make six vests – not five," he replied, still not looking up from his plans. He knew now that Mycroft Holmes got Sherlock and Doctor Watson temporary guardianship of Harry Potter, that Harry would be staying with Sherlock for a while - long enough to have a vital part in his plans.

"Yes, sir," said the sniper, making a mental note of how much more he would have to add and how much it would now cost.

Moriarty dismissed his sniper and went back to his plans. This game was going to be something Sherlock would never forget.

Suddenly a text arrived on his phone causing him to put down his masterpiece and pick up his phone. He read the message which caused him to grin. He was going to have to make a personal visit to one of the patients at Saint Bartholomew's…

Mycroft's car – General

"We will be getting a call from them at some point today as there was a performance by one in my brother's flat earlier," said Mycroft to Anthea. "Tell them I've taken care of it and there is no need for their intervention."

"Already taken care of sir," said Anthea.

Mycroft nodded in acknowledgment. He did appreciate it when his staff was prepared and, one might argue, one step ahead of him.

They rode in silence in the backseat, with Anthea on her phone - a folder he asked her to bring last minute on the seat between them - finishing up the final plans that had to be completed before they were out of range as they were on their way, finally, to get some answers.

A couple of minutes later, Anthea put her mobile down, it having stopped working the closer they got to their destination. She looked over at Mycroft and nodded once. Everything was set and the clock was ticking.

Mycroft spoke again and said, "I need you to make time in the schedule for a stop by Saint Bartholomew's later this week so I can have a talk with Vernon Dursley."

"Yes, sir," said Anthea, making a mental note.

"Also we need to send someone to Privet Drive before he returns there to pick up an item of Mister Potter's," continued Mycroft.

"Yes, sir," said Anthea, again, making another note though unneeded if everything went according to the plan; however, she knew how he liked to be thorough.

The car stopped, the driver knowing he would be unable to travel much further, at the side of the road where a man was waiting for them.

"You needn't come any farther, Anthea," said Mycroft.

"I know, sir," said Anthea, preparing to get out of the car and picking up the folder.

Mycroft looked at her for a moment, silently grateful for her before he nodded and said, "Let's go."

The driver opened the door and the man that was waiting along the side of the road stepped towards them as they exited the car.

"Mycroft Holmes?" asked the man.

"Indeed," said Mycroft, giving his umbrella an idle swing.

"This way," said the man, gesturing towards a path that led to a boat at the shore of the North Sea.

"Wait here, Fredrick," said Mycroft to his driver.

"Yes, sir," said Fredrick.

Mycroft, Anthea and the man then started to walk in silence down the path until they reached the boat. Then the man said, "I'll need to search you for weapons before we reach the prison."

Mycroft raised his eyebrows and said, "We are simply regular people. What weapons can we have that will be useful for someone located here?"

The man raised his eyebrows in reply and said, "You are Mycroft Holmes, one of the most known dangerous Muggles around, asking to visit Azkaban to see Sirius Black. It's standard procedure when it comes to you and your people."

Mycroft simply smiled, which seemed very dangerous to the other man, and allowed himself and Anthea to be searched for weapons.

After ascertaining there were none on either of them, the man, Mycroft and Anthea got in the boat and set off towards the island.

Unknown location – Unknown

He had killed three people so far. Only three and none of them were his intended. He needed to kill four more people and he would be done. Done.

He grinned. He didn't want the coppers to figure out who his original target was and why.

He grinned wider. He would learn. He wouldn't be able to hide things like that from him forever and get away with it. Not ever again…

221B Baker Street – Sherlock

Sherlock walked back upstairs, carefully placing parts of what his brother just said in his mind palace while deleting other parts of the conversation completely. He heard a buzzing so Molly's charm or ward or spell – he would get the proper terminology from her later – was still working. He wondered how long it was going to last. Did she have to remove it herself?

He walked into the flat and saw that John was still seated on the couch, his envelope now opened as he went through all the paperwork that Mycroft had given him and the envelope with the information about Harry that Sherlock had passed to him was neatly tucked back in the envelope and on the coffee table.

Harry had walked cautiously - judging by his face, posture, the way he was playing with the hem of his shirt and the final step he had taken - towards Molly, who was still seated in John's chair, and had just asked, "Can you tell me anything about my parents?"

Sherlock grimaced slightly to himself as he felt another twinge in his stomach at the mention of Harry's parents that, again, had nothing to do with the twinges he had been feeling at the bank. He should probably ask John about this. He may be coming down with something. He was sure of it at this point - it could be nothing else. He refused to think about what he was actually feeling. Jealousy was too common for him.

He shook off the feeling and looked at Lestrade, who for some reason looked like he was getting ready to leave and that just would not do. If Lestrade thought he was going to leave after what he had just said and before the case was discussed, Sherlock was going to get John to give him an examination to check his mental facilities.

They were going to have to put aside discussions of magic though for the next couple of hours so Sherlock could look at the case in more detail than previous. It was a shame that he didn't actually get to go to the crime scene. He was going to be missing out on some vital information but he would make do – as long as the notes from the detectives were good but he wasn't hoping for much.

Sherlock turned so he was looking directly at Lestrade and opened his mouth to say something but before he could, his mobile started to ring. Everyone looked at him.

'Of course. Mycroft's parting statement of giving Mummy his best. It was a hint that Mummy would be calling and soon,' thought Sherlock.

"Don't go anywhere, Lestrade. We have a case to discuss next and don't be boring like last time. Another bank robbery turned hostage situation would be tedious, especially so soon," said Sherlock looking at Lestrade intently and speaking quickly. He then answered his ringing mobile, without giving Lestrade a chance to answer, and said, "Hello, Mummy."

Hogwarts – Dumbledore

Dumbledore walked through the halls of Hogwarts, happy to be back after a week long spent in stuffy rooms dealing with official business with the Wizengamot. Sometimes it was tough being the Chief Warlock, especially when none knew how to enjoy a good joke. Really the one about the treacle tart was funny.

He went to catch up with all the returning professors to see first, individually, if there would be any changes to their syllabus before the staff meeting later in the month and to welcome the new Defense Against the Dark Art professor, whose name was escaping him at the moment. Poor lad. Dumbledore hoped he lasted longer than a year, if only Tom didn't do what he did…

Finally, after completing that business, he headed towards his office, looking forward to the relative peace and quiet of it.

He gave the gargoyle guarding his office the password and stepped into his office for the first time in over a week and immediately sat down behind his desk, closing his eyes and relishing the silence.

His eyes popped back open a second later. There was something wrong in his office. It was too quiet.

He looked around for intruders. There were none. His eyes continued to roam across the room before his eyes fell on the devices that were monitoring Privet Drive on a table. Devices that were broken and now on the floor. Devices that were broken and Dumbledore didn't know for how long which meant only one thing; one terrible thing.

The wards around Privet Drive had fallen and Harry Potter was in danger, if he wasn't dead already.

A/N: *waves* So this is my last chapter that I have completely written and beta'd... Though never fear! I'm already working on the next chapter and it's already halfway done, although I won't start posting again until I have, roughly, the next eight chapters written - that way you guys have roughly two months of updates! I promise I won't delay in writing them (they are already mapped out - they just need written). As a matter of fact, I should hopefully be done with the chapters by either the end of February or sometime in March. You can check my profile for the status of the chapters as I keep that updated frequently.