Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.

NOTE 5/5/2013: This chapter has been edited. I have combined the previous chapters 1 and chapter 2 and made them into one chapter - now chapter 1.

Background: See prologue chapter.

A/N: See prologue chapter.

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts and putting me in your communities! It means a lot to me as always! Especially since I didn't expect this story to be so well received! You've all made my day!

Chapter 1

"Let's go, Potter, we need to leave and Mrs. Figg is too busy to watch you so you have to come with us," said a woman's shrill voice.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," said the small, quiet voice of five-year-old Harry Potter.

"Well, hurry up then, boy, or we will leave you here no matter what the law says," said his uncle, standing by the door, sounding impatient. "We're in a hurry and we have to stop at the bank first. Keep your freakishness to yourself while we're out."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," replied Harry, hurrying and getting his shoes on while dodging the feet of his five-year-old cousin, Dudley, who was laughing at him as he dodged.

"Let's go," said Uncle Vernon, walking out of the house and going to the car with Dudley, Harry, who had managed to put his shoes on in time, and Aunt Petunia, being the last one out to lock the house door, following him.

Everyone got in the car and settled in their seats as Vernon started the car up and drove off to their bank.

"Can I have a lolly when we go to the bank, Mummy?" asked Dudley, looking like he was already imagining the sweetness on his tongue.

"I wasn't planning on bringing you in the bank with me, Duddy," said Aunt Petunia. Harry thought she was talking to his cousin carefully like she did when she had to tell him that they didn't have any more bacon.

Dudley's obvious short-lived fascination with his imagined lolly came to a screeching halt with that. "WHAT? WHY? I WANT A LOLLY! I always get lollies when we go to the bank! I WANT A LOLLY!" He said that very loudly.

Aunt Petunia exchanged a quick look with Uncle Vernon and they had a very quick and silent argument with their eyes before they both sighed.

"Yes, Dudley, you can have a lolly when we get to the bank. We will all have to go in… And you better behave, boy, and keep your freakishness in check. Understand?" said Uncle Vernon. He started out talking fine but when he addressed Harry, his tone got more threatening.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," said Harry, looking down at his trousers and picking absentmindedly at a hole in the pocket, listening to Dudley let out a laugh and slight cheer at getting his way, wondering all the while what freakishness his uncle was always talking about and how he could control it to get them to like him more.

Harry let out a dejected sigh at that thought and continued to pick at the hole in his trousers for the remainder of the ride to the bank while ignoring his cousin's antics of trying to poke and pinch him.

After what felt like forever to Harry, they arrived outside a big building, big to a five-year-old anyway, and Uncle Vernon parked his car in the car park.

"All right, let's go and I'll try to make this quick," said Aunt Petunia, directing the last part to Vernon who had graciously agreed to come with her on his day off of work. She is the one who needed the money, after all, to go shopping for some groceries and she just didn't like those Chip and PIN machines and preferred to deal with cash… you just never knew who was trying to steal your information and hard earned money.

Everyone got out of the car, Uncle Vernon took Dudley's hand and Aunt Petunia, reluctantly, took Harry's, and they headed inside the bank.

For it being a Thursday morning, Harry knew his days of the week, the bank was pretty busy, at least Harry thought so though his five-year-old self had nothing to compare it to, and they had a queue of people, probably about five or six, Harry wasn't quite sure exactly.

Aunt Petunia, Harry, Uncle Vernon and Dudley got in line behind three men, two of whom seemed to be arguing about something; the one man seemed to be exasperated with the other who had a stubborn look on his face while the third man just watched or so it seemed. Harry didn't listen… eavesdropping was never a good idea and he didn't want to get in trouble so he looked down at his trainers as Aunt Petunia let out a sigh, she disliked people fighting in public, thought that should happen behind closed doors, whatever that meant.

And that is when all hell broke loose.

"Come on, Sherlock!" said a graying haired man.

"I won't do it, Lestrade," Sherlock stubbornly refused.

"And why not?" asked Detective Inspector Lestrade, sounding frustrated with the man already. They have, after all, been going at this for ten minutes.

"Boring and I've got better things to do," said Sherlock simply.

"And on that note, I've got to go to the bank," said John, setting down his tea, expecting to be ignored, like he has been for the past ten minutes, not that he minded, this was, after all, amusing, all things considered.

"I'll come with you," said Sherlock, standing up.

"What?" said John and Lestrade together, confused and incredulous, respectively.

"I hate repeating myself," said Sherlock, crossing his arms.

"Let me get this straight," said Lestrade, "You won't come with me to a crime scene but you will go to a bank?"

"Yes," said Sherlock, heading down the stairs of his shared flat with John and towards the door with Lestrade and John following him.

"Taxi!" said Sherlock as he steps out onto the sidewalk, trying to get a taxi to stop to take him and John to the bank.

"I'm not done yet, Sherlock," said Lestrade, grumpily.

John watched them in amusement, though he had the fleeting thought that he should step in sometime soon before Lestrade shot Sherlock out of sheer frustration.

"Come with us then because we are going to the bank," said Sherlock as if Lestrade should have known that was his only option left.

Lestrade looked at John and John just nodded his head that it was fine with him. He was just depositing a check so that his Chip and PIN card would actually work, hopefully.

A taxi pulled up to them and they all got in which put a halt to Lestrade's and Sherlock's argument for the moment while they talked about other things while in the taxi.

Fifteen minutes later, they were at the bank and as soon as they step out of the taxi, and John does mean the exact moment that the door to the taxi was shut, Lestrade and Sherlock started arguing again and they continued as they walked into the bank and stood in the queue waiting for John's turn.

A family of four walked into the bank a minute after they did and as they came to stop behind them, John heard a sigh from a woman, probably because she didn't approve of his companions arguing in public… some people were like that, he supposed.

John was just about to open his mouth to tell Sherlock and Lestrade to cool it while they were in the bank when all hell broke loose.

"EVERYONE ON THE GROUND! NOW!" shouted several masked people as they shot their weapons into the ceiling.

"Well, this is unexpected," John heard Sherlock whisper to himself as he got down on the ground.

'Indeed,' thought John.

'I'm going to be in so much trouble,' thought Harry as he dropped to the ground on his knees with Aunt Petunia who, instinctively moved so she was closer to Uncle Vernon and Dudley so she could protect Dudley, who had let out a loud gasp of fright, and be protected by Uncle Vernon, leaving a slight gap between him and them. Harry thought he saw the three men look his way with slightly narrowed eyes but he didn't know why they were looking his way. He was no one important so he figured they must be looking at the masked people.

"EVERYONE'S EYES ON THE FLOOR! AND DON'T MOVE!" came another shout from the masked people… Harry thought he counted four of them but they were moving too quickly for his five-year-old self to count. He, however, instantly obeyed the command, no need to draw further attention to himself. He learned that from experience when dealing with Dudley and his cronies when they came for play dates to the house or the playground, when he was allowed to go, that that only gets you in even more trouble.

"If everyone listens, then we will be out of your hair in a jiffy," said one of the armed bad guys, because really what else could they be if they weren't bad guys? Good guys didn't shoot guns into the ceiling, did they?

Harry thought he heard two of the three men beside him groan and one let out a noise. Didn't they know they weren't supposed to draw attention to themselves?

"QUIET OVER THERE!" said one of the armed bad guys. Harry wondered where the other bad guys went and what they wanted. His knees were starting to hurt. He really should have sat down on his butt. The bad guys didn't say to get on your knees but it's probably too late to do anything about it now.

"Boring," came the muttered replied from one of the men from beside him followed by twin groans from his friends. Harry's eyes opened wide behind his glasses. That's not listening…

"I SAID QUIET!" said the bad guy and Harry could see shoes in front of him now. He started to panic slightly. He hadn't said anything. He hadn't even made a peep. Why was the bad guy in front of him?

"Who talked?" asked the bad guy in a dangerous voice.

'Somehow,' thought Harry, very nervously, 'that was more scary than when he was yelling.'

"Obviously not the kid," said the same man who had said, "boring." Harry saw the shoes move slightly to his right - he thought it was his right anyways… he was too afraid to do the quick "L" trick with his fingers to make sure. He heard two more groans this time and probably so did everyone else in the bank as they waited anxiously to see what the bad guy would do to the first man who dared not listen to him.

Sherlock had got down on the ground between John and Lestrade and they all looked to their left quickly when they heard one of the children behind them let out a gasp of fright but what they saw caused them all to narrow their eyes, even Sherlock. They didn't need Sherlock's deductive reasoning to work out that something fishy was going on with that family, judging by the obvious gap between the two adults and one child and the other dark-haired child, who was closer to them, perfect strangers.

"Bastards," whispered John and Lestrade under their breaths, unheard by the four gunmen who were walking very determinedly past them and up to where the tellers were. Sherlock wasn't sure if John and Lestrade were talking about the family behind them or the gunmen.

Sherlock's eyes followed the progression of the gunmen and he saw one of the female tellers hit the silent alarm before she came around from behind the counter with her other tellers and got on the ground. That silent alarm was either going to help them all or harm them all and he was going to reserve final judgment until he knew which, though he could hazard a guess at which right now.

Sherlock saw three of the gunmen point their weapons at two of the three tellers and then two of them pulled the tellers to their feet and pulled them in the direction of the vault.

'What a waste of time to have them get on the floor just to get them up in two point two seconds,' thought Sherlock rolling his eyes.

"EVERYONE'S EYES ON THE FLOOR! AND DON'T MOVE!" came another shout from the masked gunmen as three of them led the tellers to the vault and one stayed behind.

'How dull,' thought Sherlock. 'These bank robbers cannot even come up with something original or add a threat at the end of their statements, just expecting compliance. If only I can get that kind of reaction when I go to a crime scene...'

He, nonetheless, complied with the ridiculous command. Sherlock could practically hear the relief from John and Lestrade at him being compliant right now especially since they were. Obviously, they were thinking along the lines that money was replaceable, lives weren't, and he agreed if they were comparing lives to money and not a good mystery and/or crime.

"If everyone listens, then we will be out of your hair in a jiffy," continued the gunman who was left behind to watch everyone that was left out front, which included three other customers, not counting the family beside him or behind him, he cannot really be worried about small details such as this right now, the teller who had pushed the alarm, not sure if she is an idiot or not yet, and the bank manager, definite idiot as he didn't even hire a guard but these bank robbers must be even more idiotic if they did not even take the bank manager with them into the vault as he probably has more access than the two tellers.

John and Lestrade let out a groan at what the gunman just said and he could practically feel them glance his way. He let out an indignant sound. How insulting to think he would be the cause of everyone's problems. After all, he's not the one robbing the bank right now. If he were to rob a bank, he would do it in a much smarter way than this! Honestly, how plebeian to walk in, waving guns around and then taking tellers into the vault. Dull!

"QUIET OVER THERE!" said the gunman. He sounded annoyed.

'Honestly this gunman cannot even threaten properly! Of course, he's just following orders, trying to be tough judging from his stance and the way his eyes keep glancing back towards the vault. He cannot even keep a proper eye on us,' thought Sherlock and before he could help himself he said out loud, "Boring."

For some reason, this caused John and Lestrade to groan again, though Sherlock couldn't see why. He was just being honest. This whole scenario was boring though it had started out kind of interesting, now it was just plain dull. He had left the flat to get away from being bored and nagging Detective Inspectors. It obviously hasn't happened though.

"I SAID QUIET!" said the gunman and he started to walk over and stood in front of the dark-haired kid that came with the family but was not currently being smothered by the woman who looked like a horse, though she did tense, interesting, though that could be from the presence of a gun, normal and boring people didn't like them, and the man who looked like he should talk to Mycroft about a diet. The kid that was being smothered between the two of them actually looked like he should talk to Mycroft about a diet as well, now that he thought about it.

"Who talked?" asked the gunman in a dangerous voice.

'Does he really think that is threatening?' thought Sherlock, 'Mummy can do better than that when she is irritated with both Mycroft and myself and oh, I just cannot help myself...'

"Obviously not the kid," said Sherlock which caused John and Lestrade to groan yet again.

'Honestly, were they coming down with something? If they were, they shouldn't breathe on me,' thought Sherlock, irritably, 'I cannot afford to get sick, of all things, right now.'

There were other groans too but Sherlock paid them no attention. Now, this bank robbery in progress was finally getting a little bit exciting.