Bring me to Life
Chapter 1
Sherlock Holmes was a man of immense intelligence, but, that goes without saying. Who would dare doubt something so plainly obvious. Laying upon his couch while his so called 'friend' stared at a screen, seemingly searching for a job, Sherlock stared at his ceiling. Something was happening but he just couldn't place his finger on what. While Dr. Watson sat twiddling his thumbs at his computer, Sherlock could tell something was wrong by the intensity in the air. Standing up suddenly he placed his hands together under his chin, deciding to pace by the window. It was something but what. It was wrong but how. Then he noticed it.
However discreet they were there was a separate class of humans in their midst. And none of these mindless idiots seemed to notice. Oh but they can't get past the most brilliant mind in London. Amidst the normal idiocy of people hustling place to place, oblivious to those standing right beside them, was a select group of people that were. People huddling together whispering. Looking up he spotted fireworks. It was the end of October. There are no events that would call upon such festivities. Looking down again he notice that the huddles of strangely dressed folks were happy yet solemn. What would cause such celebration with a mix of such sorrow. "I'm going out."
Watson raised his head, eyes lighting up slightly, "Should I come?" Normally Sherlock would accept the company of his companion, but something told him not this time. "No need. I'm simply running an errand." He knew it was a long shot. He wasn't one to run errands. But Watson did not follow this deduction and nodded, "Have fun."
Racing out the door, Sherlock watched as one of the groups parted ways. Picking a particularly distracted bloke, he followed. Close enough to keep up, far enough away to not be seen. He was lead to an old creaky pub that looked like it was ready to go out of business. There was something about it though that kept him following this man. There was a tingling warmth emanating from the building. Almost like the building its-self was inviting him in. As though it was a sentient being trapped inside the icy stone and frozen mortar.
Shaking out of his endless thoughts and dare he say, his emotions, he followed his target to the back room of the bar. Watching the man's actions, Sherlock was possibly for the first time in his life, confused. Why was this stranger tapping on bricks...with a...stick? Polished and painted, maybe, but a stick none the less. At least, he thought it was just a stick. Until the bricks shifted in their place, parting to reveal a narrow entry way to what looked to a bustling city that he had never been privileged enough to lay eyes on. But why now was he to be given this privilege. Those were always the questions. How was it? What is it? Why is it? But as they always said..he was in fact a sociopath and had this little habit of running into danger. Head first of course.
Without another thought he slipped through the parted gate way. So focused on exploring his new environment he did yet another thing that he didn't dare consider.. He didn't notice the set of ebony eyes following his movements through this new and shiny world.
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It seemed so long ago to one Severus Snape that he had taken the mark of his master and lord, Tom...He almost shuddered with fear as he thought of the man's true name. Tom was once a kind and merciful lord. True goals honest, dark maybe, but still reasonable and with a good end result in mind. Until one day, he just... changed. His entire outlook on how he wanted there world to end up changed. He became sadistic and cruel. Despite his cruelty he followed the man, throwing his faith into a 'sinking ship' as the muggles would say. Tom turned Voldemort lost that same trust tonight. Killing the woman you loved as dearly as a sister did that to you. Lily meant the world to Severus and Tom new that. Apparently however that fact was missed on Lord Voldemort.
Today he lost everything. He lost his lord, his sister, and everything he had ever placed his hopes and dreams into, if he were to sound clique. Now he was forced to hide his grieving and hide behind that meddling old fool, Dumbledore, to keep his ass out of Azkaban. The twinkling geezer new that he would never follow him and so used Lily's son to force his hand. Of course he would protect the boy. But not in the way that Dumbledore was hoping. He was on his way into muggle London to carry out his plans when he noticed something odd. A man. Not just any man, but a muggle. Muggles weren't suppose to be able to notice the entrance and if they did, it had wards upon it that made it of little interest to a non magical human. So why? Why would this particular muggle be able to see past these privacy wards. The man seemed of intelligence, but not enough to be able to evade the eyes of the spy. First he would find answers and then he would carry out his original plans for the evening. Step one? Trap this man in the strange grey trench coat.