Please note that the story does not represent the author's point of view, nor any moral or religious beliefs. The author cannot be blamed for anything any of the characters say or do. All mentioned and recognized trademarks belong to the rightful owners, all Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling , all Sherlock characters belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and BBC. The plot and characterization are mine, but bring me no profit. Sadly.

Rating is M for MATURE, not Mickey Mouse.

I am not a psychopath, but I write from several POVs, most of which belong to morally damaged characters. Viewer discretion is advised ;)

Beta: Julie. fjad

Chapter Five

Diagon Alley

'Falling's just like flying, except there's a more permanent destination'. Jim Moriarty

—

The white stone was illuminated by the early sunset, allowing some vibrant colours to liven up the otherwise gloomy atmosphere; sunrays were peeping from the early, grey clouds, informing the living that a new day had begun.

The lonely figure of a woman, who was dressed in wizarding robes and a tall hat, was standing quietly near the stone with the engraved words, silent tears almost escaping her iron will.

'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.'

"I am so, so sorry. You gave up everything to fight for what is right, instead of what is easy, and this is how we repay you." Minerva McGonagall took out her white napkin and patted her eyes.

"Lily, James…Harry has been raised by a lunatic that makes even V-Voldemort look sane, and I don't know what to do. You have my word that I will do everything in my power and beyond, to make sure Harry sees the world in a good light, instead of the darkness he has witnessed so far. I won't give up on Harry, no matter what."

A silent tear escaped her sharp eyes that were surrounded by wrinkles, and Minerva took a deep breath, her eyes not leaving the gravestone of her two favorite students.

So brave, so young, so good…And dead because of misplaced trust. She still couldn't believe that Sirius, the same boy who was closer than a brother to James, could have betrayed them like that.

"I will personally keep an eye on Harry, and even if it takes my life, I'll protect him. I swear."

The bushes and a few tree branches moved in the sudden, silent wind, and the clouds above parted, allowing more morning sun to illuminate the cemetery.

For a second, she thought she heard a soft "Thank you" and a gentle touch on her shoulders, but then it all was gone.

Minerva McGonagall took a last look at the tomb of Potters and straightened her hat, before checking the time.

Seven a.m.

The letter would leave Hogwarts at ten. Three hours to go.

Xxx

He was nervous.

Really nervous.

What bothered him the most, was the fact that he was eleven.

A fucking child.

There were many things he wanted to accomplish, but the most important task was to find out how to transfer wizarding power into a muggle. It was madness, but Harry would need Moriarty's help in the future, and he therefore needed magic for James, as that was the only possible way to keep Moriarty interested enough to stay alive. He needed people to take him seriously. And how do you do that when you look even younger than you are?

He needed James as he was the only one who took him seriously and treated him like an adult. Harry had spent almost four years making decisions for himself, and now he was an underage orphan who wouldn't have legal rights for anything before he turned eighteen. Seventeen in the wizarding world.

He needed James, and therefore, he was going to offer Moriarty something much more interesting than Sherlock Holmes.

Magic.

He was an altruist. Sort of.

When Harry had asked his illegal guardian and friend why he wasn't interested in magic, the answer he had gotten in response made him reevaluate a few things.

James was bored and while he was fascinated by the magic, he refused to study its details.

'Think about it, Harry. It's like watching a movie about a big, happy family, and knowing that you will never get that, no matter how hard you try. It's painful to know you're powerless. I don't want to envy wizards, little one.'

All the books said the same—there was no way to transfer even a bit of magic into a non-magical person. However, Harry had a feeling that a lot of information was missing from the books, and he needed better sources to find out a way.

One branch of magic was 'mysteriously' missing from the books, and Harry had a feeling as to why.

He needed an expert on Dark Magic. While he had hoped Lucius Malfoy to be one, he quickly came to the realization that Lucius could be useful, but did not possess necessary knowledge.

Too bad Voldemort was dead. Now he had been an expert.

Had Voldemort—nice name, by the way—stayed alive, he was sure the Dark Lord wouldn't have agreed with Harry's approach, but still, everyone had weak points, which one could use while bargaining.

Blood did not matter, but no one needed to know that before Harry was ready. And he was just eleven, and alone.

The furniture started to shake, and voices flooded his head—the snakes, neighbors…He felt as if he could hear the earth slowly twirl around the sun.

'Stop. I said STOP!'

His command on his magic was weakened when he was stressed or agitated, and adding a sleepless night, it was in a very unruly state now.

Just wonderful.

The letter would arrive soon, and with it the hordes of wizards, and if James had been correct—and he was always correct—then muggle authorities as well.

Malfoy had taken the dogs—Dursleys— with him, and the house was clean.

Rubbing his eyes, Harry got up from his seat on the windowstill and went upstairs. If before the intervention from the Holmeses, he had wanted to project the image of a street-rat, then now everything had to be played out differently.

Opening his wardrobe, he looked at the hanging clothes.

He needed to look appropriate.

Xxx

"Ooohh…It's like watching "Keeping up with the Kardashians" when you're a refugee in Iraq. However, if you ask me, I am not sure what is worse. The show, or Iraq. "

Mycroft Holmes sneered as he listened to Moriarty explain to him why he didn't get involved in the wizarding world more than he did.

He actually agreed with Moriarty's approach about the wizarding world, and he definitely didn't watch that show. Or any show, for that matter. Except maybe Britain's Got Talent...He rather liked one funny judge there, and it was useful to know what interesting individuals Britain had to offer.

"Speaking of Iraq… Where is the bomb?"

"Ooohh… What bomb?"

"The nuclear one."

"Ooohh… That one…"

"Yes, that one. Where is it?"

"Ooohh… Somewhere around?"

A powerful hit from the MI6 agent made Moriarty fall onto the floor, his bloodied lips stretched in a maniacal smile.

If Mycroft let his brother in, he'd kill Moriarty before they could find out anything. John Watson went missing today, early in the morning, while Sherlock was meeting Jim.

It was a great plan, to attract attention to himself, and partially clean the way for the boy-who—very unfortunately—lived. Too bad for Jim—and Potter—, Moriarty wasn't the only smart one here.

"We'll get a confession from your little friend then." Mycroft knew that Moriarty had somehow grown attached to the freak-kid, but no matter what, he would not let them know where he had hidden the nuclear bomb.

"Ooohhh….You can try, Iceman." Jim Moriarty wiggled his eyebrows before getting another hit in the face.

"And greetings to the Virgin!"

Mycroft closed the door behind him to meet a pair of mad eyes that belonged to his younger brother.

"Let me speak to him, Mycroft!"

"I will not. He won't tell anything, Sherlock. Calm down, we need another approach."

"John is missing, a nuclear bomb is on the territory of Great Britain, the wizard child is free and you want me to calm down!"

Mycroft was about to start a new argument with his stubborn brother, when Petricks ran into the room and offered him a piece of paper.

Long Gardens 18

Well, hello, Mister Potter.

Xxx

"Dear Mister Potter,

We are pleased to inform you…

Blah, blah, blah...

Term begins on 1st September…"

Blah, blah…

The front door was suddenly blown away, and Harry jumped up at the unexpected arrival of wizards. If Malfoy did not know how to use a switch, then it shouldn't surprise him that the wizards couldn't use a doorbell.

A painful groan escaped Harry when he saw the muggle special forces, armed with rifles.

Shit.

He had expected wizards first.

As he was lying face down on the floor, five rifles pointed at his head, he heard the voice of the visitor.

Surprise! Not.

"My, my, Mister Potter, it's such a pleasure to meet you in person."

Iceman.

Great…

Fuck.

Xxx

Long Gardens 18 appeared on the old pages, and Severus cursed Dumbledore for not taking the book out of Hogwarts. They all had to get to the Apparition point first.

The pull at his navel had never been more anticipated, and Severus swallowed his panic.

For a second he wondered what Potter was doing now. He hoped they'd catch him off-guard.

Xxx

He apparated to the address, and his wand was out in a second, even before his brain had digested what he was seeing.

Potter was being held between two masked men who were armed to the teeth, and both Holmeses were standing before the boy.

Severus glanced at Albus, whose wand was also out, and then at Minerva, who looked ready to kill as she spotted blood on the boy's face.

They were breaking all wizarding laws now, but it did not matter when the muggles wanted to kidnap Harry freaking Potter.

"Gentlemen, " Albus addressed the muggles, allowing his voice to get its special intonations, which, before, only the Dark Lord—Lords, if you add Grindelwald—had heard.

"Wizards and witches, I am afraid your Boy Wonder is going with us." Mycroft wasn't stupid, so why was he doing what he was going?

"I am afraid that is not possible, Mister Holmes. Harry is going with us, and it is not negotiable."

Potter was now looking at them with his green eyes that sparkled with mischief, but unlike James Potter, who had been a swine, Harry Potter was a nutcase.

"Can I go grab some popcorn?" The green-eyed menace squeaked when one of the armed men hit him behind the knees, making the boy drop onto the floor.

"This is just a child, what are you doing, you atrocious monster?!" Minerva raised her voice and her wand started to tremble.

"A child with a nuclear bomb and a hostage," Sherlock added, with almost no emotions in his voice, while looking in Potter's face, searching for answers.

"What hostage?" Severus had to ask. What had this boy done only in one night?

"Yeah, I would like to know too. What hostage?" Potter asked innocently, looking only at Sherlock.

"John Watson." The way Holmes Junior said it, told all about his thoughts in regards to Harry Potter.

He hated the boy.

"John Watson?" Potter asked from the floor. "The blogger?"

"MY FRIEND!" It was Mycroft who was restraining his younger brother now.

"Aahh…Yes, yes. I remember John. Oooh…But he's not my hostage," Potter said, looking relieved.

Severus did not buy one word.

"Then where is he?" Sherlock couldn't control his rage when the boy opened his damned mouth and stated, as if talking about weather.

"Maybe dead?"

Shit.

xxx

It was six p.m when Albus had finally managed to get them out of the sticky situation with Potter and the Holmeses, and Severus was relieved to see Diagon Alley after that horrible muggle ministry.

Potter had been taken to the ministry to give his testimony, and the boy denied everything. He knew no James Moriarty, and had been raised by drug-addicted muggles who were now 'somewhere high' while abandoning the boy yet again, to be looked after by their neighbour, Richard Brook.

It sounded insane, and Severus knew that no one believed the green-eyed little monster, but only because they knew better. If Potter played that act on unsuspecting people, they would buy it without a second of doubt. Potter was crazy, but he wasn't stupid.

Or he was, but Jim Moriarty's influence merely postponed the effects of Potter's inherited dumbness.

The fact that the boy was a Legilimens at age eleven did not help their cause at all. Potter had too many mysteries around his shady persona to crack in one day, Severus thought as he looked over the boy in question, who just stood there, uninterested.

Severus did not know what Albus and Mycroft had talked about, but soon Potter was released, and allowed to leave with wizards. The younger Holmes had tried to stop that, but Mycroft's word was enough to get Potter free.

And now, they were finally where they were supposed to be all those hours ago.

"I am hungry."

Gritting his teeth so hard that he was afraid he'd need a new pair of jaws, Severus looked at Harry Potter, who wasn't impressed by the wizarding alley, and who looked bored.

Potter was a sociopath.

"It's six p.m, Mister Potter. Eight hours after the time we were supposed to arrive here. You can wait now," Severus said in a low voice, ignoring Minerva's tightly pursed lips and Dumbledore's sad gaze.

"I am a growing child, I need food. What are you, a zero-size model who eats air and grass?" Potter's eyes were shining behind the pair of glasses that the boy had taken out from his pocket after leaving the ministry. Severus was sure that blasted child did not need them at all.

"You speak like that to me again and—"

"Ah, Severus, Minerva, I think we should get Mister Potter his wand, and all other necessary products can be acquired later, before the school term starts." Dumbledore looked at Potter with his blue eyes that twinkled with kindness and curiosity. "And after we get the wand, we can all grab a bite in one of the diners."

A diplomat, like always. Potter nodded his head in agreement, and they all moved towards Ollivanders, drawing attention from the crowds that, thank Merlin, weren't as large as in the morning.

Severus—and Minerva, he was sure—would corner Dumbledore tonight and find out about his deal with Mycroft Holmes.

"Does your group of merry wizards always accompany eleven year olds, or it's just for me, as an exception?" Potter needed to close his trap if he wanted to stay alive long enough to get a wand.

"My dear boy, you know yourself, how important you are for our world. You are Harry Potter."

Yes, Albus, put more gold on Potter's pedestal.

"You are the Boy Who Lived."

And encrust the pedestal in diamonds. Senile, just like he had said.

"Yes, yes. I have read that chapter. But you know what?" Potter turned now to Minerva, and his tone was polite. "Why do you call Voldemort He-who-must-not-be-named or you-know-who?"

Severus saw a pair of grown up wizards—Potter's future fans, no doubt—blanch at the name of the Dark Lord and hurry away from their little, entertaining group.

Too bad for them, it was still unclear who was the bigger threat—The Dark Lord, or eleven year old Potter.

They approached Ollivanders', and Severus was ready to just push the boy inside and then hide in his dungeons and just drink a bottle of whiskey. Or two.

Or three, if Malfoy joined.

What was Lucius doing here, and without Draco?

"Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Severus," Lucius greeted them all before turning his pale eyes at Potter's figure.

"Mister Potter, I presume?"

"Who else has a guard that consists of a Headmaster, a Deputy Headmistress and a Potions Master? You are Mister Malfoy, I am sure. Your hair is legendary even in the muggle world." Potter was crazy but Malfoy did not know that, and Severus had to bite his cheek as the boy stepped closer to Lucius and patted his long, blond hair.

"Ooohhh...So soft and silky. What conditioner do you use? I need one with an anti-frizz quality, as my hair gets all—"

"I hate to interrupt your more than educating conversation, Mister Potter, but would you mind stepping into that shop and choosing your wand?" It looked like Minerva didn't care what hair lotion Malfoy used and was annoyed by Potter's ever-changing mood swings. Or was as hungry as he was.

Blasted Potter.

"Wand, wand...You know who had no wand and was still powerful?" Potter asked Minerva who shook her head.

"It's You-know-who!"

"The Dark Lord had a wand, Potter." Malfoy's sneering voice and intonation said it all, and Severus agreed with his fellow ex-Death Eater. What an imbecile.

"How do you know which you-know-who I am talking about? That's the problem. Just say his name and you will have no need to decipher every time what I meant. I was talking about Doctor Who."

"Doctor who?" Minerva, just drop it.

When Severus had been a child, he used to watch the series with Lily.

"Doctor Who." Potter's poker face made his hands itch.

"Who?" Oh, Minerva, don't be an idiot!

"Doctor Who." He would choose his swine father, Potter senior, over that devil's spawn in a second.

"Who is the doctor?" Are you stupid, McGonagall? Potter is playing with us!

"Stop it!" He knew he was almost hissing, but his patience had its limits, and at the moment it had a long, white beard, otherwise Potter would have been dead already.

Green eyes that sparkled in the evening sun were now turned to him, and Potter just stood there for a minute, not saying anything.

Severus felt a very gentle touch in his mind, and slammed his Occlumency walls down, making that blasted child cry out and hold his head.

Nice...

"Severus Snape!" Before McGonagall could continue, Potter's elbow was taken in Dumbledore's hand, and he moved towards the shop.

"First, the wand. Everything else, later."

Why was Dumbledore so interested in Potter's wand?

xxx

He knew it could be boring choosing new shoes or shirts, but Harry had secretly hoped choosing a wand would be much more interesting.

"Not this one, then. How about this one?"

It was almost eight p.m and he still had no wand and no food.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Harry again asked Mister Ollivander, who now had twenty five boxes on the left side of the table, and forty-two on the right side.

In the middle lay all the new wands for him to try.

Booooring.

Harry took the next wand, waved it a bit and threw it back onto the table.

Even SS—Severus Snape who missed his timeline by a few decades—wasn't commenting from his corner which he shared with the almost sleeping Malfoy.

Lucius was almost drooling, supporting his weight on the wall, Professor McGonagall was sitting on a small chair, also almost asleep, and Dumbledore was the only one standing near him, looking really concerned.

Maybe he should try other resellers? Can you order a wand online?

Too bad Harry couldn't read any thoughts from the old man. He had tested his theory with SS, and his head still hurt.

Occlumency was a bitch.

"Here, try this again, Harry. Holly with a phoenix feather." Dumbledore had been trying to make that damn stick choose him for the last two hours, but when Harry held the wand, he felt nothing.

"That sucks."

Ollivander, who had been looking at Harry with pensive—creepy—eyes, came closer and waved his hand over Harry's head.

A charlatan who couldn't even sell sticks made of wood.

"Mister Potter, why don't you free your magic and allow it to choose the wand for you?"

Oh, man…

If you want anything done, do it yourself.

xxx

Lucius was going to fall asleep, like a homeless creep, leaning against a wall in this small, ancient, dusty shop. Draco's wand had taken two minutes to find, while Potter had already spent two hours and still had no wand.

Lucius didn't sleep this night, having to accommodate the muggles and dealing with other emergency business. He had just thrown the dogs together into a small horse stable in the south of France—not that the muggles would notice the change in scenery with all the drugs in their system—and returned home to find his wife awake and angry.

Lucius couldn't just tell his wife what he had been doing all night—hiding Potter's dogs and doing paperwork for that little shit—so he lied.

And Narcissa knew he was lying, so Lucius had spent the whole day outside, in Diagon Alley, waiting for Potter to show up, which he did, eight hours later.

"Mister Potter, why don't you free your magic and allow it to choose the wand for you?"

So, he had been correct. Potter was blocking his own magic, and Lucius couldn't understand why.

He glanced at Severus, who looked as bored as McGonagall, and then at Dumbledore, who now had a very concerned look on his face.

His precious Boy Wonder would end up wandless. How wonderful…

The air became very heavy and cold, and then something started pushing him towards the ground, demanding obedience. Chills ran down his spine, as Lucius remembered the last time he had felt such magic around him— the thirty-first of October, ten years ago, just before the Dark Lord had lost to Potter.

Severus was as tense as he felt, and Lucius swallowed hard.

Parseltongue, Legilimency and incredibly powerful magic...And mental stability, or the lack of one….

Potter was the re-incarnated Dark Lord or something very similar, he was sure.

The atmosphere had changed, and everyone was awake now. And worried.

Fucking hell…

Even muggles would be able to determine that the boy wasn't normal, and now Lucius understood why Potter had been blocking his magic.

Power radiated from the green eyes, and then Potter turned his palm up and wiggled his fingers.

"Come to me, my wand. Come to meeee, my preciousssss."

If Potter wanted to hide his ability to use Parseltongue, then the boy should be more careful. Lucius could barely understand the last word.

The whole shop was shaking uncontrollably, wands flying in the air, but not coming to Potter's outstretched hand, before one wand appeared in the boy's palm, and after a quick flash of light, everything calmed down.

Hmmm...Lucius knew he had seen the wand before, but where? The carvings that resemble clusters of elderberries running down its length looked very familiar...

He wanted to ask, but then he noticed the horror-stricken expression on Dumbledore's face and his outstretched, old, empty hand.

"Your magic has chosen the wand, Mister Potter, and the wand has chosen your magic. You are now the only master of that particular wand," Ollivander's voice was breaking, and he was addressing not only Potter, but Dumbledore as well.

"Fifteen inches, with a Thestral tail-hair core."

Only then Lucius understood.

It had been Dumbledore's wand before…

Well, well, well...

"Why does it look like anal beads?"

He didn't even want to know how eleven year old Potter knew what anal beads were…If Draco had asked him that, then...Well, had he not been a Malfoy and a wizard, the social services would have taken Draco away long, long time ago.

Severus didn't make any sarcastic remarks, which was highly unusual, and kept looking into Dumbledore's face, unlike McGonagall, who looked ashamed at being in Potter's presence and horrified at what the boy had said.

How did McGonagall know what anal beads were? She looked so prudish…

Lucius almost slapped his face as he imagined naked McGonagall using anal beads on naked, eager Dumbledore, and shook his blond head. Now he'd never get his member up after imagining that...He needed to watch some quality porn before being able to not think about those perverted images. Just why didn't he learn Occlumency?

Well, it wasn't nice to lose your wand, but Albus could get a new one, since they were in the wand shop anyway, and his golden boy had gotten his own, older wand.

What was the big deal? It wasn't like Potter had gotten the Dark Lord's wand, or anything sinister. A normal wand Dumbledore had used himself. What had scared the old fool so much?

xxx

The Elder wand was pulsating with magic in Harry's hand, and Albus could only stare at it.

The wand had chosen one true master now, and Albus did not want to imagine what would happen to the world if Harry did not change his ways.

The boy had an accomplice with a nuclear bomb, and Harry himself now had the deadliest wizarding weapon in his small, childish, palm.

Merlin have mercy on their souls, Albus thought as he looked into the shining, green eyes.

"Well done, my boy. Well done." What else could he say?

And it was only the beginning.

xxx

It was well after midnight, but Mycroft just couldn't sleep, even if his mind and body demanded rest, when Moriarty's bomb was still unlocated, threatening the lives of British citizens.

Millions of thoughts were running through his mind when he heard tapping on the window. Getting up, Mycroft opened the window and let the owl in, allowing the bird to land on his table and leave its heavy package before just as quickly flying back to its master.

He had let the bastard child leave with his kind, but only today. He was nowhere near being done with the boy-who-thought-he-was-above-the-whole-nation. And for his understanding approach, Mycroft now had what he had wanted from the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the Chief Warlock from the very beginning.

"Use it wisely. A.D." was written on a piece of paper that was attached to the small vial on which the name of the magical potion was engraved in small letters.

Veritaserum.

Mycroft twirled the full vial in his hand and smiled, looking at the illuminated gold fishes in the large aquarium.

I have a surprise for you, Mister "Brook".

And for you also, Mister Harry James Potter.

"The boy-who-lived-to-lose-everything," Mycroft said the new title out loud and smirked at the sparkling in the office lights vial. "I am the smart one here."

xxx

a/n Please find a minute and let me know what you think. Who do you like and whom not? I can only guess as you guys don't review, so help me out.