Ok, perhaps this isn't going to be my most interesting chapter... or best written... But still, you'll get a surprise in the end. (hopefully) XD Meh, I've already ruined the fact that you get a surprise at the end. Sorry.

Aaaaanyway, thanks for the reviews, follows, favs and of course for reading XD... This story wouldn't be here without you guys... So cheers! XD And well... I've got Pentecost holidays sooooo I have to study a lot for the last term which goes on until July... Sad I know. At least our new school year starts on September 2. Just like Hogwarts XD. Anyway, sorry for that ramble and ENJOOOOOOOY!

"I still don't get why you quit the PSNI!" Lestrade exclaimed, glancing at Harry, as he handed the man in the stall a couple of coins and got a coffee in return. The man in the stall stared at them oddly, perhaps he thought Harry looked too young to be working in a police force?

Harry though, rolled his eyes, shrugging. "They weren't paying me enough. Besides, Jenny got me a better job." It was true. Jenny had gotten him a better job. Apparently, a friend of hers... Martha was it? ...had contacts to some children's television program director who had in turn needed a new actor to tell stories. Jenny had recommended him... and that was it. He'd quickly gotten the job, quit the one in the PSNI and now, three months later, was a much happier man.

Blinking, Harry turned his attention back to Lestrade who was sniggering into his cup, which was steaming. "What?" Harry said with a frown. Lestrade continued sniggering.

"No, seriously, what?"

"Someone's got a crush!" Lestrade finally exclaimed in a sing-song voice, and then dissolved into peals of laughter. Harry raised an elegant eyebrow and folded his hands behind his back, waiting calmly as Lestrade slowly regained his composure.

When he finally had straightened his dress-shirt (which had a couple of coffee stains here and there), and straightened, Harry began to talk innocently, "So, just... coincidentally, Sylvia Collins is moving down to London... on the exactly same day as you are... A week from now?"

Lestrade blushed scarlet and seemed to fumble for a moment with an answer. "How did you know? Only the boss knows that I'm moving down to work at Scotland Yard!" Lestrade paused, staring at Harry who had adopted the knowing smirk that everyone seemed to really hate. "You know what? Don't tell me."

Harry had in fact, only known about Lestrade's because although he had quit working at the PSNI, he had still managed to hack into the main database quite a while ago. PSNI workers were obligated to tell their superiors when they entered a relationship they thought was going to be serious, or was already. Apparently, this was done for insurance issues and the like. Lestrade was apparently registered to be in a serious relationship with one Sylvia Collins from the department of theft.

About a week ago, Harry had been searching through the database for any people he knew. Oddly, though, anyone he looked up from the wizarding world didn't really seem to exist. The only thing the database had was a birth certificate and a graduation certificate from a fancy named school somewhere in Scotland. Obviously, this was an alias for Hogwarts. Then, after that, those people seemed to completely disappear.

It was that way that he'd discovered that Hermione and Ron had married at Christmas. Needless to say he'd been conflicted at that moment. In a way, he'd been happy that they hadn't even thought of sending him an invitation, he'd been happy that they'd forgotten about him. But somehow, disappointment still somehow managed to worm it's way into his heart. They hadn't even thought of him. They had abandoned him. Then, ever so carefully, he'd built a new wall around his heart. This time made of steel.

"Oi! Richard!?"

Harry blinked hurriedly several times, to bring his eyes back into focus and turned slightly to look at Lestrade politely, who simply stared back with that deadpan look of his.

"What about you? Staying here?"

Harry shrugged again and turned his thoughts back to Jenny and her son, Phillip. Somehow, they had managed to worm themselves into his heart, before the steel wall. Even though his job now allowed him to get his own flat, he couldn't imagine not living without them.

"I don't know. But... Yeah, I think I'll stay here. There's not much for me back in England."

And there wasn't. He hadn't contacted his court in more than five months, somehow, Jenny quenching him of his thirst of sadistic and criminal pleasure. Suddenly, he realized he hadn't done anything against the law for more than five months - well, except the database. But that was an exception. He wasn't exactly using it to do criminal stuff. Hell, he hadn't even thought of doing anything illegal in a few months.

"Well, yeah. I suppose you have Jenny and Phillip here," Lestrade muttered and sipped his coffee noisily. In a way, Harry didn't want to return back to England, not back to all that destruction that Voldemort had left behind. In Ireland, he was known as 'the cute and funny story-teller', children adored him (well, those that recognized him - and those weren't many)... and he had his own sort of family. He wouldn't say he was in a relationship with Jenny... but they were close. They would cuddle in front of the television, watching trashy movies and making fun of the actors forced to play such roles... Sometimes, he went ton walks with her and Phillip... Or on trips to different amusement parks. And according to Jenny they were going to one today.

"And you," Harry grinned at Lestrade, who had almost accidentally, become a good friend of his, "Lestrade. Detective Inspector Lestrade. Ha! I can almost see that. You, wearing a trench coat, your DS staring at you with awe." Harry chuckled to himself. Lestrade grinned back.

"Well, I'm only a DS for now. But... I'll get to DI soon. You'll see." Lestrade said, finishing his coffee, a determined expression on his face.

"And Dimmock? He wants to work in Scotland Yard as well, right?"

Lestrade sighed, and rubbed his face with the back of his hand, "Yeah, well, they said they only had one spot. But they said they might have another one open next year."

Harry grimaced at Lestrade. Dimmock was known to be... slightly aggressive. He'd been working for the PSNI longer than Lestrade, and he'd been trying to get into Scotland Yard for longer. Needless to say, the scene wouldn't be pretty when he found out that Lestrade got the position before him.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Lestrade's phone started ringing. Harry grimaced at the tone, it was that horrible 'Stayin' Alive' song everyone had been playing recently. He'd liked it at the beginning, but now... it had gotten quite annoying, not that it wasn't his own ring-tone.

Lestrade muttered an apology and stepped aside for a moment, and flicked open the phone.

"A woman?...Yeah, I'm busy... Doesn't matter... I'll be right there." Lestrade rolled his eyes as he shut the phone and tucked it back into his pocket.

"Someone's car been run over. Hit an run - typical." He paused for a moment, eyes flickering over Harry's face which was as impassive as always. "Do you want to come with? Like... last case together?"

Harry smirked at him, "Sure."

...

The scene at which they had arrived was horrible. A black Nissan - which was almost unrecognizable if not for the metal plaque reading 'Nissan' - was destroyed. Apparently the driver of the other car had somehow managed to crash right into the middle of the car, thus pushing it against the wall and flattening everything and anything inside.

Harry grimaced slightly, feeling oddly sympathetic for the family who was related to the injured woman.

"Lestrade!" Dimmock's voice called them over, and Harry tried to stop the urge to roll his eyes at the idiotic man. He was standing next to someone from the forensic department, holding a notebook, no doubt doodling as usual.

"What's he doing here?" Dimmock snarled, jerking a thumb at Harry as they came to a stop next to him. Somehow, Harry and him had never managed to get along. Mainly because Harry thought of Dimmock as an idiot and Dimmock was envious of Harry's genius.

"He was invited by me... Eh, as a consultant for this case." It was a lie and all three of them (and the forensic agent) knew it. Dimmock though, rolled his eyes, probably not willing to mess with Harry again as last time... He'd ended up being suspended from duty for two weeks.

"Yeah. Anyway," Dimmock said with a grumble, "Witnesses say they saw a blue Opel, crash into that Nissan," He jerked his thumb rather ungracefully at the destroyed car, "A woman and a kid were inside. The kid's dead. The woman's just been sent off with the ambulance (she's dead though - or almost), her face was too bashed in to ID her but we're searching for her ID in the car."

Harry slowly felt unease sink into him. Jenny and Phillip had been panning on going to Belfast's amusement park today... But she usually rented a Rover - the cheapest car to rent.

"Found it!" Exclaimed a young man from on the side of the car smashed into the wall. He was holding up an ID, waving it in the air excitedly. No doubt, this was his first job out in the field. One of his older colleagues jerked it out of his hand and passed it to Lestrade, ignoring Dimmock's outstretched one. Obviously, Dimmock had already messed up before Harry and Lestrade had arrived. Harry sent a smirk his way. Dimmock ignored him.

"Richard," Lestrade said gently and a little too softly and as Harry's eyes locked onto his, he realized. He'd seen that look many times before during the war. That look, that told you 'I'm sorry for your loss'. Harry barely glanced at the ID picture, knowing that if he'd look down, his tears would soon follow. Magic wouldn't - couldn't help now. She was dead.

And in the middle of all that sorrow he choked out a small laugh. Oh, the irony of it... 'Stayin' Alive' being the song that had declared her death.

...

The living room back at Jenny's flat was dark, as Harry had drawn the blinds to match his depressive mood. A couple of bottles of beer lay about, some shattered, some balancing on the corners of tables, about to be shattered. The TV had been left on the ITV channel, and was showing some sort of soap opera, about which Harry couldn't care less. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, all of which Harry had managed to produce himself.

The doors to Phillip's and Jenny's former rooms were slightly opened and through them, Harry could see they had been emptied by someone, he wasn't even sure who, as the last week and a half had been spent in a drunken daze.

Moments of soberness were almost non-existent now, and headaches seemed to dominate everything.

Harry himself, lay on sofa which had, up until Harry started living on it, smelled of Jenny and her horrible perfume. That horrible smell, had somehow calmed Harry, giving him some sort of peace. But now, it was gone, just like her and Phillip's lives.

Harry was sure he looked like shit. Worse, than he ever had. Probably worse than when he had been a small child, locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Raising a hand to feel his face, he noticed he had managed to grow a pitiful beard.

Raising his other hand to his face, Harry examined the picture clutched in his hand once more.

It was a picture of Jenny, Phillip and himself, all grinning happily at the camera. Behind them, generated by a green screen at some amusement park, was the view to a magnificent castle, not unlike Hogwarts. He'd chosen this specific picture to stare at mainly because the spark of life in Jenny's eyes was present there, more so than in most pictures. She just looked... happy.

In the picture, Harry was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. His face was calm, and his eyes had somehow managed to project a sort of happiness Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to show anymore. He'd just lost one too many of his loved ones.

Phillip was his usual happy self, holding his mother's and Harry's hand, and somehow... In the picture they looked like a normal family, albeit a little young.

And it was then and there, at that very moment, Harry realized he had loved them. Deeply and unconditionally. And somehow, their deaths had been what caused him to realize as such.

Suddenly glaring down at the picture, Harry furrowed his eyebrows. What exactly was he doing here? Moping about, sulking, wishing someone would rescue him from his misery... No, he had to pull himself out... By himself.

Love... Ha! Love had done this to him. That unforgivable, irresistable emotion had done this to him. Perhaps... He had only loved her because she had been the first kind person he'd ever met. His childhood had been abysmal... a chaotic mix of abuse, manipulations and betrayals... Perhaps he'd been wishing so hard to love that he'd ultimately fallen in love.

Rising slowly from the horribly smelling sofa, he glanced at the picture once more, and twisting the upper corners in opposite ways, he ripped it in half. He let go, and watched the two pieces float down to the carpeted floor.

...

David was nervously chewed his nails, ignoring the scathing looks Magnussen was giving him.

Just over a day ago, all members of his court had received the message to meet up at 'The Manor' in Little Hangleton, a small village in North England. He wasn't quite sure why Jim had chosen that particular spot... But it was ominous enough.

From the outside, the house had looked like it had belonged to someone rich, and on the gates, there had been a plaque reading: 'The Riddle Manor'. How had Moriarty acquired this? At Oxford he hadn't seemed particularly well off, his clothes had always been a size too big, or small and his utensils, all cheap and from the local drug store. Was he a descendant of the Riddles?

In a way, David wanted to know more about Jim's past... But he was sure that he'd end up being more frightened of the man than he already was... So he chose not to think about it much.

Glancing around, he saw Magnussen wringing his sweaty hands, obviously nervous. Behind him Prince Frederick was leaning against one of the many dust-covered cupboards, looking calm and composed as though he was attending just one more royal ball. To his right, was Moran, who was sitting in an armchair next to the unlit fire, looking every bit like an excited puppy, waiting for his master to come.

Everything was silent... or as silent as could be in the ancient, creaky drawing room. If David wasn't an atheist, he would have thought that ghosts travelled through this very house, making it creak every now and then.

"David, it's unbecoming of you to... ah, chew your nails." Said a loud and slightly irish accented voice from the door.

David instantly spun around, recognizing the voice, despite the Irish tingle in it. Standing there, in the doorway, was James Moriarty. The first thought that jumped into David's mind was 'different'. And he was. The man standing before them, wasn't the wiry, genius, but slightly awkward kid they'd all known while he was at Oxford. No, this man was powerful, and now, one could see it not only in his eyes, but in his stance as well.

He was of the same height as well, but he seemed to tower over all of them, even Magnussen just by simply looking at them, with that superior look in his eyes. His face had become slightly longer, and more aristocratic, his hair was gelled back slickly, making him look serious. His clothing sense had changed quite a lot as well. He was dressed in a pressed and tailored back suit, and a marine blue dress shirt. The most prominent change however, wasn't the clothing, or the physical featured; it was his eyes.

Whereas before, they had been dark with sadness and a slight tingle of madness and genius... They now were deep, eternal wells of revenge, madness, genius, determination and... power. Outstanding power which he held over everything; his emotions, the room, hell even David felt slightly dizzy when that intense gaze locked onto his.

Nevertheless, he grinned.

This was going to be one hell of a ride.

OK, I hope you aren't mad with me for killing Jenny and Phillip off. *cowers behind a book as several people shout at her* But she was going to go from the beginning... Such is life. Besides, I needed a reason for Jim/Harry/Richard to return to England... and I needed a reason for Moriarty to be so bitter. The best way to do that is via broken heart. :,C

Anyway, thanks a lot for reading. If you spot any mistakes... Either leave it in a review *hint hint* or PM it to me. I'll be happy to correct anything. XD If you have any questions... same thing

Btw, I just watched the Day of the Doctor again... 11 and 10 are so cute together :3 And the war Doctor is soooooo awesome. God, I'm fangirling again XD