A murder mystery featuring a grown up Harry Potter and Co. 8 years after the events of Book 7. Does anyone know if you can apparate across continents? I suppose as long as you can picture the place you should be good? Please enjoy :)

25 year old Harry Potter walked across the Ministry of Magic's jade and obsidian marble floor, a cacauphony of voices and footsteps jostling all around him. His eyes were intently fixed on the front page article of the morning's Daily Prophet.

LONDON TUBE MASSACRE - 65 MUGGLES DEAD, 40 INJURED

At 9:20pm on Sunday night a devastating explosion was triggered at London Bridge station killing 65 muggles and injuring 40 more. The hunt is underway for the person(s) who detonated/conjured the explosive fireball which erupted through a packed tube train. Muggle law enforcement and investigators have been dumbfounded on how this ball of fire traveled through the entire train and have been unable to find any evidence of an explosive device.

The department of Magical Law Enforcement is certain that this attack was from a witch or wizard conjuring the immensely powerful and dangerous Fiendfyre spell.

"We are very certain that this is a magical terror attack," says auror Ronald Weasley. "There is no mistake that the spell used was Fiendfyre. You can tell by the distinct scarring on the walls of the train."

Lead investigator, Harry Potter, has declined to comment on the matter, but asks that everyone remain vigilant and alert when out in public.

All incidents or suspicious activities are urged to be reported to the Auror office or local Magical Security—

"Harry!" said a surprised feminine voice.

Harry stopped abruptly, his heart jumping. He looked up from the newspaper peering into the eyes of a very familiar face , topped with extremely bushy brown hair. "Hermione!" he said exhaling quickly. "Sorry I wasn't watching where I was going…"

Harry noticed the distressed and fearful look on her face.

"…are you alright?" he asked concernedly.

Hermione smiled sadly her eyes going teary eyed. "It's just awful" she said painfully. "All those muggles…it just feels like..." she paused glancing sideways with a chilling shake, "…like Voldemort all over again."

Harry grimaced, "Yeah I know…" he said quietly. Harry looked at her with an equal look of sorrow. A throbbing pain at the back of his head alerted him to the fact of the little sleep he had gotten. "Come on. We'd better get to the office."

They quickly strode over into the stream of witches and wizards walking in and out from the lifts wrought golden grilles.

A few passerby wished them good morning, but most were too busy and in a rush to notice them. Finally clambering in with eight or so others, the lift's golden grilles crashed shut and abruptly began ascending rapidly.

"Ah Harry, Hermione…morning," said a familiar voice beside them. A young man their age with neatly trimmed blonde hair smiled warmly at them.

"Hey Ernie," Harry said with a smile, shaking his hand, "It's been a while mate, I thought you were on a case in France still?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yeah I was, but it fell through finally. Muggle police found the guy dead in his apartment. Suicide by the looks of it." Ernie Macmillan said with a grimace.

"I heard about what happened last night." He continued lowly. "Terrible." He said shaking his head. "Do you have any leads on who it was?" Ernie asked.

"No not yet." Harry said heaving a sigh. "Ron and I are going down to interview the witnesses today if we can."

"Ah I see." Ernie said with a nod. "Well they'll definitely have to tighten security for the World Cup. Any word from the MACUSA on that yet?"

"No. No word on that yet either…I expect we'll all have memos at our desks soon though."

"How about you Hermione, are you working on the case too?"

Hermione was staring off through the golden gates listlessly. "Hmmm? Oh…no…" Hermione answered quickly turning to meet Ernie. "No I was working on the Morris family case." She said resuming looking out through the gates.

Ernie frowned slightly but apparently decided not to press the issue. Harry was thankful to not have to talk about the issue any longer. The next few seconds passed in silence.

The lift's golden gates opened and several wizards stepped out. Ernie, Harry, and Hermione briefly discussed how Ron and Ginny were doing, as well as the other members of the Hogwarts D.A. they kept in contact with. For a moment, Harry forgot the throbbing pain in his head.

Finally the lift stopped and a clear, cool female voice rang in their ears. "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement."The gates opened and Harry and Hermione followed Ernie out into the wide corridor. The corridor was lined with a light blue carpet and adorned with a high vaulted ceiling made of stone. On either side were towering gothic windows 15 feet high and 10 feet wide with brass cross webs cutting up the window panes into small pieces.

The corridor was softly lit in a grey gloom, the pattering of rain drummed on the windows. They couldn't have bewitched the place to be more cheerful today? Harry thought gloomily.

They turned a corner and walked through the pair of heavy oak doors, emerging in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles. Harry's eyes grazed over the sea of cubicles, glancing at the walls lined with pictures of wanted wizards and personal photographs and posters.

"Well I'll see you two later," Ernie said with a nod veering off.

"Bye." Harry and Hermione both said, heading the other way. A man dressed in scarlet robes with hand shaggy red haired pony tail and freckles approached them with a bundle of papers in hand.

"Hey Harry, Hermione, can I see you both in my office?" Bill Weasley said with a brisk tone.

"Yeah, sure Bill," said Harry, dropping off the newspaper he was carrying onto his nearby cubicle's desk.

Hermione nodded at Bill.

"I'll be there in a minute." Bill said as he walked away.

"Well…this can't mean anything good." Harry said looking at Hermione with concern.

"No…definitely not," Hermione said with a sigh.

Harry picked up a memo that was floating in circles above his desk. Let's hope things haven't gotten worse, he thought absentmindedly while opening the memo.

Harry,

If you have a minute I would like a word.

-Arthur Weasley

"Anything interesting?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I'm not sure…" Harry responded slowly, showing her the memo.

"Hmmm…" she hummed aloud while starting to walk away. "Well I'm sure you two will be working together given the situation."

"Yes I daresay you are right," Harry said following her away from his desk.

Bill's office was just a few hundred feet from Harry's desk at the corner of the expansive room.

Hermione opened the door and Harry followed her in, shutting it behind her.

The office was set with windows on three sides, one bewitched to appear as the London skyline with Parliament and Big Ben in the distance, and the other two facing in towards the cubicles. There was a solid wall behind the desk, filled with newspaper clippings and a huge world map which was also pinned with newspaper clippings and mugshot pictures with names scribbled underneath.

The blinds were drawn on the windows facing towards the cubicles. Harry couldn't help feeling a sense of unease as he tried to guess what Bill had called them in for. It couldn't be another attack this soon?

Harry and Hermione sat in the two chairs facing Bill's desk and sat down. Hermione was immediately scanning the map, a look of intense concentration besetting her face.

Harry yawned as he gazed out at the rainy London skyline, reminiscing fondly of a candlelight dinner that he had recently with Ginny. His mind wandered to the soft bed he could be sleeping in, the softness of Ginny's skin against his, breathing in her warm flowery scent…

With a sharp click, the door opened behind them and Harry whizzed his head around. Bill Weasley marched in with a small manila folder in hand, his face now darkened and strained.

"Hey guys," he said with a tired voice.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked concernedly. Bill collapsed into his chair heaving a strained exhale. He looked to Hermione and shook his head grimly.

"I don't know how this happened…but…" Bill said pausing to exhale again, "we believe Antoin Dolohov has escaped Azkaban."