Summer began rather quietly, as compared to the past few months. Harry was bored out of his mind once more and absolutely hated it. Hermione on the other hand, was quite pleased with the relative calm that came with the change of the seasons and the end of the school year. Of course, the end of school did not bring about a new attitude in regards to her school work. She was as diligent as ever and occasionally would send Harry letters, trying to make him do the same.

While there was a sort of calm at 221b, it seemed everyone was quite tense. Moriarty seemed to be making his move. The assassins weren't doing anything incriminating. They would occasionally eye Sherlock or Harry awkwardly, but say or do nothing else. It was driving Sherlock mad.

"What are they playing at?" he growled, staring down at one of the assassins who appeared to be coming home from grocery shopping. The summer seemed like it would last in perpetual tension, until one day in the middle of July.

Harry awoke to sunlight streaming into his bedroom from a crack in the blinds. He yawned and stretched. He wondered if he would come across one of the deadly assassins again, and if they would remain mute. He didn't really believe anything would change, but he couldn't help but hope for some kind of freedom from the infernal boredom he was suffering through.

He trotted to the living room, where breakfast was ready for them. Obviously Sherlock and John had already eaten as their places were already cleared away. Harry silently thanked Mrs. Hudson and began to eat. He clicked the power button on the nearby remote control and flipped the channel to BBC. What he saw almost made his heart stop.

JAMES MORIARTY PRIME SUSPECT IN PENTONVILLE BREAKOUT ATTEMPT, BANK OF ENGLAND ROBBERY ATTEMPT, AND ROYAL JEWELS ROBBERY ATTEMPT

So, this was Moriarty's move? After watching for awhile longer, Harry turned the tv off, finished his breakfast, and sat down in Sherlock's chair. He pressed his fingers together and went over all the information. Obviously, this was some sort of cover up or show. If Moriarty really did break into all of those places, it wouldn't have been an attempt. It would have been successful.

"I see you saw the news?" Sherlock asked, entering the sitting room. Harry nodded.

"Any theories?" Harry asked. Sherlock sighed and shook his head.

"Many theories, nothing worth acting on until we have all the information, do you?"

"Not a theory, just ideas. Moriarty's making his move. It's going to come down to this, isn't it?"

"I am afraid so. Whatever Moriarty's been planning, it appears to have reached a crescendo. Stay safe, Harry," Sherlock said gravely.

"You too, Sherlock," he replied.

Harry was called as a sort of witness in the trial. He was watching, of course. It made him shiver when Moriarty smiled at him. A quick yelp from the man made Harry smirk. It appeared something sharp had pricked his foot. He rubbed it and looked around his feet, but he found nothing.

"Did you do that on purpose?" John asked in hushed whisper.

"I wish. I would've stabbed him somewhere more productive, like his nether regions," Harry replied. John snickered. His accidental magic was helpful, sometimes.

Sherlock was called up and Harry watched as he exposed James Moriarty for what he was. Harry just wished Sherlock was able to keep a lid on it. It appeared to be his turn once Sherlock was removed from the court room.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. You have been called to the stand to testify against Mr. Moriarty. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Very good. Prosecutor, you may ask your questions," the judge said.

"Mr. Potter, can you explain, in detail, your interaction with Mr. Moriarty?" the prosecutor asked. Harry nodded. He looked to Moriarty, who was smiling as if he were anywhere but a court that was trying him for heinous crimes. Harry raised, then looked to the jury. They looked nervous. It all came together for Harry.

"Um… yes. My first and only interaction with the man was during that series of bombings that went on about a year or so ago. Some men knocked me out and strapped me up in a coat loaded with bombs. Moriarty told me to do everything he said, or he'd blow me up," Harry said. Many looked at the man in horror, who merely waved at Harry. Harry sat back, knowing that whatever heinous things he brought against Moriarty, there was no way he would see prison.

After a few more questions, Harry was dismissed back to his seat. One quick recess later, the jury unsurprisingly found Jim Moriarty not guilty of any crimes. Harry had been expecting this.

"See you soon, Harry," Moriarty said, leaving the courtroom. John and him attempted to follow him, but were held up by reporters and thus couldn't tale the man. John was worried, but Harry knew Moriarty wouldn't try anything. This was the build up to something terrible. By the time they'd reached 221b, Moriarty was gone. Sherlock looked slightly shaken, but fine otherwise.

"Moriarty came by, I presume," Harry said. Sherlock nodded, "Did he say anything?"

"Nothing helpful, just more threats," Sherlock replied. Harry sat in the client chair and pressed his temples.

"We'd best be ready for anything, then," Harry said, staring out the window. He went upstairs sometime later and began writing to Hermione.

Dear Hermione,

This is not a letter I thought I'd be writing, especially at the age of eleven. However, recent circumstances have brought it to my attention that my mortality is a very real thing and thus there are a few things I want to say before my time likely comes. Of course, this is hopefully me being paranoid, but I very much doubt it.

The first thing I wish to say is thank you for being my closest friend. You are selfless and caring and while you can sometimes be a bit too precocious, I know you only have my best interests at heart. Truly, in my very short existence, you have brought me the most amount of joy in the best year of my life. In that line, I also wish to tell you that while it may annoy you, calling you my Watson is the highest compliment in my mind. You are my confidant and the one who I hope always has my back.

Unfortunately, you cannot attempt to save me this time. It is a matter that will stay between myself, Sherlock, and John. We must contain and eliminate the threat that is Moriarty, and I will not have you become collateral damage on my behalf. I could not bear it if you were hurt or possibly even killed.

Once again, thank you for your year of friendship. I truly hope there is more to come.

Love,

Harry

"Please see that Hermione gets this as soon as possible," Harry said gravely. Hedwig hooted worriedly, but let Harry attach the letter to her leg. With one gentle nibble of his ear, Hedwig took off through the window. Once the snowy owl escaped Harry's sight, he turned to an empty space on his wall.

"I believe it is time I got to work. I don't have a death wish, after all," he said to himself.

Harry began his investigation. He began when he made his first appearance to Sherlock. Of course, he had likely been responsible for a numerous amount of crimes before that, but this was the first documented case that he knew of. He scrolled through John's blog and even sent an email Ms. Adler. He had no idea whether or not she'd respond, but he figured it couldn't hurt to try.

A week passed. Hermione wrote him back. It was short, there were scribbled out words, and one or two stains that looked like tears. The gist of the letter was that Harry better not give in to Moriarty, he'd better keep her updated, and she believed in him. It warmed his heart yet also made it ache.

Irene Adler also surprisingly answered. He was set up to meet her at a nearby cafe. She didn't say anything discreet, but did say he owed him through Sherlock. Apparently, he saved her life sometime after he went back to school. After getting dressed, Harry left Baker Street and headed to the cafe.

"Hello Mr. Potter," Adler purred from behind him. He spun around. She wasn't dressed indiscreetly, but he'd barely noticed her.

"Ms. Adler," he said as calmly as possible.

"You need my help with Moriarty, I presume?" she asked. Harry pulled up a chair and nodded.

"You worked with him, I figured you know at least a bit about him," he replied simply.

"Indeed I did and I do know a bit. I know for one he was fairly interested in you. Something about 'completing the set'. I thought it a bit strange, but I accepted his help regardless," she said.

"Interesting. Would you be able to give me any specifics?" Harry asked.

"Possibly. But the real question is why should I help you?" she said, smirking. Harry shrugged.

"To be completely honest, I didn't think you would. However, I do know you grew up hearing stories about me from your parents." her smile wavered a bit before she rolled her eyes.

"Yes yes, the chosen one. I never put much stock into it, but I'm told I'm fairly cynical," she said calmly. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"So you're a squib?"

"Please. Just because I'm not using my wand willy nilly doesn't mean I'm not capable," she said.

"Fully wizard then. You went to Hogwarts then?"

"Indeed I did, Ravenclaw."

"Same here," Harry said. She raised an eyebrow.

"I would've had you pegged for Gryffindor," she said.

"Bravery gets you nothing when you're dead," Harry said matter-of-factly.

"Sounds very Slytherin."

"Almost was, made the hat put me in Ravenclaw," he replied. She nodded.

"Fascinating. Well Mr. Potter, it has been a pleasure speaking with you. If I have any information for you regarding Mr. Moriarty, I might pass it along," she said, standing up.

"That's it?"

"Aw. What's a little fun without some foreplay?" she said. Harry blushed, "Loosen up, kid. Sherlock's the only man I've got eyes for."

Before Harry could get another word about how that was totally inappropriate, she laughed and disappeared with barely audible pop. Harry shook his head, clearing his mind of the strange woman. He was just glad the shot in the dark seemingly paid off. It was time for the waiting game.

The game did not last long. Moriarty forced Harry's hand.

After wandering around the city and even stopping by Diagon Alley, Harry walked up to a police-surrounded 221b. Sherlock was pressed against the police car with John right next to him. Harry looked around bewildered.

Harry saw Sherlock say something to John before a deafening screech echoed over the police radar. Harry covered his ears and winced. Even from farther away it still hurt.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please lower your weapons!" Sherlock announced, holding a handgun.

BANG

"Now would be good!"

"Do as he says!" Lestrade shouted. Harry just noticed him. What the hell was going on?

"This isn't my idea, I'm just—"

"My hostage!"

"Right… Hostage," John said. After a few more moments, Sherlock said something to John Harry interpret. Right before both men took off, Sherlock made eye contact with Harry. The man's eyes said it all.

Run

Before Harry was even comprehending what he was doing, he found himself bolting back down the street he'd just come.

"Harry?" Lestrade called, "Harry please come back I need to talk to you—"

Harry did not come back. He just kept running. His mind raced faster than his body. He went over everything he knew. First, Irene Adler could be trusted. Second, Sherlock and John were fugitives. Third, Moriarty was behind this and Harry could use all the help he could get. He managed to find himself back at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Ah, Harry! Good ter see ya lad!" Tom called. Harry gave him a weary smile and handed him a few galleons.

"Mind if I get a room tonight, Tom? And please don't mention me being here to anyone, if you don't mind," Harry said. Tom looked at the money before nodded solemnly.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. Room thirteen should suite you," he said, leading Harry upstairs.

Harry heard the door click shut behind him. He looked around at the comfortable room and slumped into the armchair nearby the fire. He sighed and rubbed his temples. The climax had begun.

Harry began to make his plans.