Disclaimer: my thanks to Conan Doyle, Hiromu Arakawa and of course J.K for the central ideas and influences in this story.

Notes: welcome to the 2nd edition of the story, well attempted rewrite. Most remains unchanged, spellings better though and some of the plot will be more fixed in the future. To say I've had a tough month is a massive understatement on par with space is big, but I hope you all enjoy.

5 years on…

It was the last train, northbound Victoria line, and bout 11:20 and apart from the rattling of the tube catering down the steel tracks, the 6th and last carriage was otherwise silent. Inside graffiti was etched into the doors and windows scratched in with keys and alike, on late journeys such as this. Small posters for fitness joints and insurance were set above the carriages' group of 4, they were all fairly still, not moving except for the steady rocking of the tube.

A young girl sporting Levies, a short green top and glaring bright pink hair sat at one end of the of the carriage towards the rest of the train. She peered over the sleeping form of her companion, over the worn rows of seats with their plastic armrests and fading patens. To rest on the other end of the well lit car. There sat the other two, hunched and shady men swayed in thick black coats. They hadn't looked at her, indeed they hadn't stirred since they had 'appeared'. 'Probably just boarded at Blackhorse Rd' she thought. But she could sense something else, these shadows intent flooding down on her, observing their preys every move.

He remembered, saw her face, those sparkling eyes, the smile, running down towards the lake,

Words were coming form that perfect mouth, the sound lost in his memory, he gave chase, caching her easily and bringing her gently to the ground.

The memories speed up flashes now; he had pined her, the young face laughing still,

Those strands of flaming red hair falling across her features, again she spoke, he could hear it now under the setting sun of the evening,

"I love you."…

It was the tugging on his shoulder sleeve, which lightly bought the shabby middle-aged man out of his dosing. The greying hair was pushed out of the way of his tired grey face to observe his companion, with a frown.

"Dad those men over there look funny," the girl next to him said, barley heard over the roar of the tube.

"Don't stare dear" he replied, scolding the pretty girl with pink hair beside him.

She was right however, he shouldn't be thinking bout things gone from his life at a time like this, he had a job to do.

'Any moment now'

On the out side he went back to sleeping, but his mind stayed sharp, alert. His little companion had given her signal for the go ahead, and tension crept in uninvited pressing his nerves, and he fought to remain relaxed, at ease.

'There gonna make there move'

The was a sudden flicker in the light's of the carriage as a strange static could be felt, filling the air, expanding. The dark tunnel out side the train, only seen from the lights of the windows now seemed to slowly disappear as though some one had suddenly draped a curtain of black over the outside of the car. The rumbling, screeching noise of the train seemed to fade out, like someone was turning down the volume of the mans ears.

One of the men at the end of the carriage moved, slowly, delicately looking up and around to stare at the man and his kid. It was a pale chalk white face, with pitiless red eyes that looked almost lovingly at its prey. The things still shrouded companion, in a vaguely more human manor, darted lightly off his seat as the creature started to bare long white teeth and…fangs.

That was the only decent look that the girl and father got before the carriage lights gave out, flinging them all into the embrace of pitch black.

The father reflected in that terrible instant, that with all his abilities, he wanted to see in the dark…

Couldn't though.

And all that he could make out in the void was a low slivering intake of breath from the bottom of the carriage. The situation improved drastically however when something was flung by his companion, towards that sound.

Bang and a blue light like a flare lit up the end of the train. The hazy blue reflected off the windows and plastic walls, pushing back the darkness, and silhouetting the two outlines one of which seemed to glide towards them, its friend hung back and seemed to be drawing something from his coat.

"Remus, Go!" the young girl shouted, suddenly on her feet next to him, pointing something at the ever-nearing shadow gliding towards them.

'Remus' nodded and despite his size, had bounded to half stand half crouch on the blue patterned seats, ready.

'Remus' pink hared companion uttered something, and the was a high pitched screech that emanated from a short stick in her raised hand, then from the stick a orb of orange light burst out towards her attackers. The thing dogged, the orb missing him by inches but shattering the glass and windows as it few down the rows of seats and hit the end wall with a strange 'flunk.' This however seemed to brake the enchantment outside the train as the tunnel wall returned, so to did the noise and wind, howling through the shattering windows, blowing glass everywhere like shrapnel.

'Remus' seemed to care little for this as he darted over the seats thorough the glass shards, and making a dextrous cartwheel in the confined space over the swiping claw of the shadow on his right. He came in to land in the centre of the carriage, in a wider space in-between the rows of seats. Without pause he continued to role clear of the monster ending in a squat like crouch, he would leave that thing for her to dance with.

He raised the stick drawn from his shabby coat pocket to point at the creature's companion but his movements had lost time and the other man at the end of the tube waved his hand yelling.

The was a green flash as something very hot, whooshed past 'Remus' face.

To close for comfort…

This left the opponent open however and with a yell of 'Expelliarmus' the was a blast from the thin small stick in 'Remus' hand, it slammed home sending the dark coated figure in to wall with its operators door at that end of the train.

'Remus' noted that the target still had the presence of mind to hold on to his wand, as he slammed and rebounded off the door. The man made a second wilder aim for 'Remus.' But a gel like blob, blue in the light of the still burning flair, splattered over the man's wand arm, pining it back against the door.

"Drop the wand! Or ill crush your arm." 'Remus' ordered raising his own wand to make the gel contract. The man flinched with pain leaving seconds pause as he looked into his opponent's stern grey eyes.

He dropped the wand, 'Remus' relaxed lowering his own, and this was a mistake.

The was a faint click, and with a joyful snarl the captive darted to the side leaving his coat and still twitching prosthetic arm, attached to the door. It was then that 'Remus' could see his opponent; the man was young and thin build no more than 20, short blond hair and was only wearing black trousers under the coat. The were black ruinous tattoos across his chest heading up to the stump of a shoulder. A contraption of some sort was attached to where his fake arm had been, he aimed.

'Remus' saw all of this before a steel bolt cut into his left arm, spraying his blood over the seats. He hadn't seen it coming hadn't even thought. it was only his developing 6th sense for danger that had risen up and made him dart to his right. The bolt had been going for his hart.

The girl was in a furious melee with the creature behind him, dodging and paring inciting her opponent to use up its energy and make mistakes, spotting the events taking place at the other end of the car, and none to pleased she yelled out "Christ Harry, take him down!"

'She must be angry to blow my cover this early' 'Remus' now Harry dimly perceived with some portion of his mind that was still trying to make sense of a bad situation.

His dart took him further to the side than he'd intended, and he came down to land amongst the striped seats along his right. The wind was at its worst here, basting into the back and side of Harry's head blowing the grey blond hair into his face covering his eyes, blinding him, the howling defining. He still had his wand, which he dimly raised aloft hoping that his attacker only had one bolt in that crossbow. He tried to get his legs to move, to get up, take action. Seeing Harry trapped and open the tattooed man drew a sort flick knife from his boot and with a roar that could just be made out over the wind charged at the blind, deafened Harry.

Despite being in what most 'normal' people would call a bad, terrible even a hellish situation, Harry grinned, indeed he was about as far removed form the nom as it was possible to get. But he had also herd the tattooed mans roar, following this sound he had found his target, and aimed a glowing red stunner straight into the mans stomach.

The force of this took the man of his feet as he slammed back into the wall for a third time, his head gave a sickening crack as it hit the solid blue plastic.

He slowly slumped to the ground,

limp.

A smear of blood could be made out in the blue light, against the wall as he slid down. But Harry took no chances and strong silk cords erupted from his wand raping round the blond figure gagging and binding him.

Harry got up, slower than he liked, he was still moving a bit unnaturally in Remus' larger form. But Tonks had insisted that polyjuice was the unmatched, best way to stay undercover.

Why Tonks had always given him the form of her husband, Harry chose not to ask.

Harry's head started to clear and he spun round to see the other opponent behind, just in time to see its intended prey dodge the swung cawing fist, catch its wrist and with a swift and surprisingly graceful movement her suitably stronger and suddenly more pointed wand slammed into the side of its head. The pale creature gave a shriek as thick black blood sprayed out covering Tonks hand and outstretched arm as the dance came to an end.

Blood hit the seats and sprayed over the insurance ads and roof, as the body collapsed all that was left when the monster did land was a dried grinning, mummy like corpse, the coat becoming a thin black shroud. As it came to lie on the blue specked laminated floor littered with glass shards from the windows.

Form the victors the was a strange stillness as they took stock of the situation,

All clear.

In moments the train stared to slow down and a automated voice announced in the other carriages the final stop, as though none of this conflict had occurred. "Well now" said Tonks "Job done."

three minutes down the same line,

Ron placed up and down the underground platform, gazing from time to time at the clock at one end of the station, as if daring it to go slower.

His manor would mark him out as worried, running a hand through his thick flaming red hair he glanced at his superior, sat causally with an elderly hard etched med. Witch, a healer. In one of the small alcoves that had a single bench running across it. His name was Shaklebolt a tall, man with grayling well kempt hair was the opposite of his student, calm emotionless and trying to sleep.

Ron knew better though and once again looking at the face of the clock, stated in a low voice "there late" Shaklebolt slowly opened one eye to view his impatient student.

Answering in a deep and slow manner "if they are, it is surely the result of the Muggle pilot, besides" he continued a little faster to cut of the infrared Ron. "Patience is the mark of a good Auror." At this Ron turned away and rolled his eyes, at what was almost a daily remark.

"Don't make faces" came the stern voice of the weathered healer, Ron reeled back round to frown at the old lady her eyes had remained closed and she seemed deep in thought. The was a sniggering at this seen from the couple standing nearby which was promptly stifled as Ron moved his burning glare to study the pair.

They were young, fresh out of training, and green. Not much could be gained from the appearance, the pair wore the same Muggle uniform that the other three had taken for the occasion, and as overseers from the magical law enforcement this was there first call out.

The magical law enforcement had grown considerably since the last grate war; they had also established a 'regular' force separate from the Auror department, they handled most of the work as cut backs and reorganisation in the ministry had been a necessity, but it left few original Auror's.

Many had in-promptly voiced the Auror department finished as Auror's now took a back seat, this was cushy. Except now the only jobs they were called out for were the ones that the more numerous 'regulars' couldn't handle. This escalating vampire case was one of them, and Ron had vowed to remind the newbees whenever possible.

"Why are you laughing?" he shot at them, their silence infuriated him more so he continued "Its your fault were out here, to nab 'your' man. And if those gun ho fools in charge of your dept hadn't gone, smashing in on that Vampire den in Hackney, we wouldn't be chasing down those that are retaliating for it…" Ron was very nearly yelling.

They were getting the point, Shaklebolt rolled his eyes.

Apart form this strange group the platform was deserted, and apart from a yelling redhead, silent. But Shaklebolt was suddenly alert and stretched slowly from the grey tiled walls. Putting a finger to his lips he bade Ron to 'quite down' as they all turned to look down the dark ominous tunnel as the was a dull roar increasing in volume as the tube approached.