Disclaimer: I do NOT own nor will I EVER Harry Potter or Sherlock Holmes. That being said, enjoy my story!

Chapter 1

The Chance encounter

Walking back and forth, slow creaks in the floor board [says of constant use] pipe smoke in the air low mumbles.

What say you Doctor, your observations always astound me. Tossing the aged paper to lay within reach of the Doctor and continues to pace aimlessly.

Says I, surly you have already solved this case, the pages are worn drawn even, tired and tuckered by travel leading me to believe this case was ages ago solved. [turns paper to and fro frowning at the aged puzzle before him.]

The pacing stops, Sherlock glances quickly over to the befuddled Doctor before a quick barking laugh escapes him.]

Surly, dear Doctor your befuddlement is a mere amusement I dare say to partake ungainly amounts upon your offer, allow me to explain the illusionist at play with the printed word before you.

Glances were exchanged, Watson leaning back [newspaper at hand] giving a sigh of defeat.

Do continue. Leaving no room for objection Sherlock takes the stage.

Notice, if you will, the Head line passage of "Watt Wilkins Bludgeon" at first sight one must assume error is at fault for no title before as simply been so, this however is all to true. I assure no man might willingly so let leave his papers tampered upon.

Head held high in all his self assured . . .

Dark forest Location Unknown

One foot in front of other. Stop. Quick release. Hold breath. Eyes Closed, upper cut. Stop. Round turn, quick elbow to jaw, broken. Stop. Eyes open, forward run. Run, don't stop. Minor destr- CRACK!

Distorted images, failure to focus. Objective, escape immediately.

Opening his eyes, Harry notices, due to his haste and wish for escape he has apperated to safety.

Awake. Eyes focused. Movement, satisfactory. General location, unknown. Whereabouts, London. Proximal, close central London. Hypothesis. Syri, Baker Street. Synopsis, disorientated. Stop. Inhale.-

"Your quite sure the murderer just left his weapon of choice, what ever that might be, in plain sight, as in; 'for all to see'?" I can not help but accuse, Sherlock at times draws such foolish conclusion from the most absurd quandaries, yet by now I should know, after all, one does not question the "Great Sherlock-

"Holmes, look!"

Not a moment later I find myself upon both hands and knees, At the time I could not recall, amongst my scattered thoughts, Holmes right beside me. As I gazed upon a young lad. The young fellow, I could not help but notice, had seen better days. Before I could stop myself I started listing wounds; lacerations upon both legs, burns of both second and third degrees from both left and right wrists to mid arm shoulder joint if not mistaken, left shoulder blade broken, blood my god the blood it was every where. Beaten badly, I cringe at the sight. There are no doubts. Torture the solider in me dutifully reminds.

Sherlock rattles off theories on what he believes is the cause. I myself could not look away, the detective in me or perhaps the doctor in me would not allow a single detail to be missed; long, uncommonly so black hair, pitch, of the darkest color reach just below shoulder blades, wind swept and matted with so much blood that I do not doubt will take some time to clean. Also black garments, perhaps what may have been a robe? Regardless lay in tattered pieces of crimson. His body, that of a runner, no doubt football. Even the build was healthy, at one time. What could have happened, and why to one so young? A mystery indeed.

~~End of chapter~~

Author: Well that was the end of the first chapter, let me know what you guys think! I haven't decided on a pairing if anyone wants anything particular let me know and I'll see what I can do. I'll make it SLASH warning just encase.