Once I manage to somehow be Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, J.K. Rowling and the awesome producers of BBC's Sherlock all at the same time, I'll let you know so that you can build a temple in my homage or something. Seriously, that would be too awesome to be human.
Huge annoying A/N that you probably won't want to read postponed to the end of the chapter.
Sumarry:What if Fate suddenly decided to be more messed up than it already is? The answer is quite clear: Harry's life would get even more troublesome. Mycroft's diet would die somewhere along the way. Moriarty would blow up a few things. Voldemort wouldn't keep behind schedule with the world's madness either. All in all, Fate should be bound up with tape. Fate is actually a fan of Democracy, so you can participate in te game! Hooray!
A Prologue in Three Parts
-Fate's Note-
Dear Harry Potter,
You keep saying that I hate you... But I don't. In fact, I like you more than most humans. You are... Special to me. I know that is exactly what you are trying to say and avoid but... I'm not doing this for your forgiveness. It is just that nobody is happy at how it ended.
No, really. It was kind of lame. Just my opinion. But it is not me that matters, it is Death.
I think Someone once described it very accurately as "Death is on a rant again". Death was already fuming at having a Master, you see, but having you killed by Lord Bloody Voldemort sent him onto irrationality. I think if I don't step in he will just chuck you right back to life, the rules be damned.
Alright, I might be sidestepping the whole regulation a bit, but I do that all the time. Death is a rule freak. I won't let him be miserable the next few ages because of that. Principally when it seems so much of the whole matter was decided because of the manipulations of a certain headmaster. Mortals shouldn't just get their way in this kind of matter, it is just illogical.
You know what? I was just going to rewind the timeline a bit... But I just had the most glorious idea ever! Order will most likely be pissed, but who the hell gives a damn to what the bastard thinks? Let's mess this story up a bit!
The thing is, dear Harry, that if you start thinking Fate is too messed up, then you haven't even touched the tip of the iceberg that is my awesomely chaotic personality. Also, I kinda like my demands obeyed... So if I say you are the one with power to vanquish the Dark Lord, you are going to vanquish. The. Freaking. Dark. Lord! Now take this sorry ass of yours back to life and start Boy-Who-Living!
The game is afoot!
-The Baby-Who-Lived-
Harry had been hit by the Avada Kedavra from the Elder Wand.
He wouldn't have been able to tell how long it had been since that happened. It could have been a second, a week or a century. He wondered what was going to happen with the war, Hogwarts and his friends now he was dead... Then he felt some kind of surface beneath him.
He realized he must have a touch sense for that to be possible and therefore he must have a body too. He was further surprised when he simultaneously made the connection that since he was on a surface he must be somewhere and that whatever he was feeling was definitely soft. Was it.. Something akin to cushioning?
He opened his eyes and found himself staring... At a ceiling?
What.
It was white, or would have been white if not for the scorched marks all over the place, leading to a massive blast hole which took over almost an entire wall of the-
No way.
Goddryck's Hollow.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
Was this hell or something?
He tried to sit up, but it was way too difficult, his head was too heavy and - he finally managed - it was hurting a lot! His scar had never hurt so bad! Everything was so inconceivable and his thoughts were foggy-
And he was a baby. What the bloody hell was happening-
Harry interrupted his frantic baby crying - since when was he crying? - and stared, as the smoke that had been forming in the room took the shape of an enraged face, an horribly familiar face, and was blown out of the room by the wind, terribly, slowly, with a painful scream.
Oh my God.
He couldn't be actually his one year old self again, could he?
Something, somewhere, must have gone wrong.
He had no idea what was supposed to be happening, but he was almost sure it wasn't that.
He looked, in complete horror, as his mother's body and the once-mass-murderer's body, both unelegantly sprawling in the soft carpet of their deaths, slowly faded from focus due to the tears streaming out of his eyes.
-The Crisis-Managing Ice-Man-
Mycroft Holmes decided there was something severely wrong with the logic of the universe.
Why? Because in his minor position in the British Government he should have been aware of all departments of the Ministry, specially the secret ones. It was as if the Ministry of Magic had been sprung out from nothingness the very same day the figures in robes started parading with their owls (wizards. They called themselves wizards.)
Let's not even dwell in the event of his stumbling upon the oddly named department, or initial amused skepticism being shoved aside by crescent worry.
Up to the moment he paraded into the Ministry of Magic from the visitor's entrance that night, he had made several deductions:
1) the Ministry of Magic (and their society in general) was trying to hide from him.
Be it because of what they called the Statute of Secrecy (which's existence was a giveaway on itself) or for some other reason, the so-called witches and wizards went to great extent to hide themselves (except for the fact they had gone out partying on the streets that exact night. He certainly hoped that was not going to repeat itself). Of course, their attempts were futile and it wouldn't take Sherlock to notice them, but if neither of the Holmes brothers had even smelled a hint of them up to that October 31st-
2) the Magical Society hadn't existed before that day.
But they seemet strongly traditional and an entire culture can't be created in a day. Again, he would have noticed something if it had been there for longer than that, but in that aspect his deduction made no sense. If Sherlock's saying that eliminating the impossible whatever remains, whereas improbable-
3) magic was real.
When was that supposed to be possible? Oh my.
Shock aside (anyone else than the Ice Man certainly wouldn't have been capable of pulling that one off), it would explain many things, as the flying motorcycle, people disappearing with a crack, little sticks that blasted light and a few other oddities the CCTV had captured in the last few hours, much better than a sudden influx of unknown and physics-defying technology. It could be actually pretty useful - or pretty dangerous. Which brought us to
4) magical folk probably had a very bad relationship with non-magical folk in whatever universe they existed before (it was very odd that this was actually a plausible explanation instead of a figure of speech).
He was going to have to thread very carefully with them and ascertain diplomatics before this became a security issue. That was one of the reasons he was doing this himself even with all the footwork it meant, accompanied by whatever-was-the-current-name-of-his-assistant, in those robes she swore to be fit for the occasion and yet made him feel rather silly nonetheless. He had to talk with the Minister of Magic, as the nameplate from the telephone bin suggested, even though the magical universe seemed to be at some kind of convulsion at that point and it didn't seem due to anything non-magical-related. (Note to self: averiguate mentioned convulsion.) And lastly,
5) he had to be on control of this before people like Moriarty were, or he would have a reason to freak out like his little brother was or would be once he figured everything out. Which was yet another thing he had to look onto and he better have a few scones as a reward for that horrible Halloween or he was going to quit his diet altogether.
A/N: so... I have no plans whatsoever for this story except it is a Master of Death Harry story, a Harry Potter and a Timetravel story and maybe a Sherlock Adopts Harry story. You can tell me how you want this to flow, just a few things to expect listed below.
Review away, even if only to leave me a smiley face. Or a flame.
Updating Schedule: don't expect frequency.
Pairings: hopefully none. Because I'm terrible with romance. While we're on it, I refuse to write anything explicit. I can have fluff, teasing, even fanservice, but it ends there. If it even comes down to paitings. Like, ever.
Character Death: if it happens, it happens. I am mostly kind sould and as such won't kill everybody with an explosion, unless Moriarty makes me, you know how he gets, so just get over it, people die, and fictional people even manage awesome emotional deaths.
Plotline: you can dissuade me of anything that still didn't happen. Mostly because I have no plans. There is no plotline. Yay. This may mean stuff can go crazy, sometimes I write stuff that sound like whoever wrote it was on drugs, but isn't this the fun of fanfiction? Putting all your favorite characters throug ridiculous situations?
The Game: I should explain how this works... This is kind of a game in which I challenge myself to write most of what you guys ask me to so if you want an specific scene done or anything like that just say and I'll put the best of my abilities to have it done. I used to do that with my friends when I was younger and I sort of like the game so I kind of decided to get it to a larger scale...? Oh, whatever, if you guys don't have anything to ask I'll just be my obnoxious self and write whatever come to mind.
Anyway, hope you liked this prompt-prologue-teaser thing.