Potterlock

Such A Shame

Geoffrey, well, James Moriarty, was beside himself. He could not believe that Hermione and Ron Weasley were dead. He stormed out of the room where his son sat tied up and slammed the door. A couple of his workers approached him, ready to do whatever it took to satisfy his demands. Unfortunately for them, he was angrier than usually. He whipped out his wand and sent blasts of green light flying in all directions. People dropped like stones to the floor, dead.

Someone had ruined his plans. Hadn't he told them ONE THOUSAND TIMES that the Weasley family was to be left untouched?!? A mind like hers would have been perfect among his ranks. He wanted her there, next to him. Then he could have gotten rid of that stupid dominatrix.

"Someone's going to pay!" He singsonged. Irene stepped out of a door at an inopportune moment and was made his next victim. "Crucio!" He said, wanting to hear her scream in pain before he killed her. He hated the woman so much. She was such a bother.

Moriarty rampaged around the house he had rented in central London, killing everyone there. Still seething with rage, he stomped back up the stairs and threw open the door to the room where Seamus sat. His son was terrified, which disgusted Jim, but he didn't want him dead. Jim grabbed the boy's chair and disappeared into thin air with a crack!

They turned up in a mountain clearing not far from the grounds of Hogwarts. He had to stay clear of the boundary, or the staff would be made aware of his presence.

The boy blinked in surprise at the sudden change in surroundings. "What's going on?"

"There's been a change in the plans," Moriarty growled, pacing up and down. He'd have to rethink everything and reassemble what was left of his ranks. This was going to be a nightmare. And he still had to find out who had ruined his plans. He froze. It had to be Sherlock and Potter! They would have to go. He turned to his son, "I'm sorry to this, but I really have no other choice."

"What d'you mean?" Seamus asked. He really did look a lot like Jim.

"Imperio."

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An Auror, a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, a Potions Master, and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement appeared in central London. They hadn't walked three meters before their path was blocked by a tall man with brown hair and a snug suit, leaning on an umbrella.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock said with mock enthusiasm.

"Hello, little brother. It seems that we have a bit of a mess on our hands," the older Holmes brother replied.

"What do you mean?" John asked the Minister of Magic.

"He just went on a killing spree. He took out his own people. One of mine had infiltrated his staging area here in London and was able to send us a message to alert us of the development. Such a shame that he was killed, it took so long to get him that high in the ranks," Mycroft Holmes did not sound like he mourned the man's death very much.

Harry wanted to clear something up, "When you say 'he', do you mean M-"

"Don't say his name, Mr. Potter!"

"Hermione would tell you that fear of the name-"

"Increases fear in general? Like it did when Voldemort was alive? Well, I don't fear many things Mr. Potter, and the man we are dealing with is not on that list. It is only a precaution. London is a busy place and he is likely to have spies everywhere; he's rather like me in that respect."

Harry wasn't sure if he should have expected something like this, considering that this man was related to Sherlock, or if he should just give up in trying to understand the crazy blokes. "Should we go check out the house where he was staying? We know it's here."

"How would you know that?" Mycroft said.

"We had... help," Harry replied.

"I figured it out," Sherlock interrupted.

"Oh, I'm sure you did, baby brother," Mycroft replied sarcastically "Well, since you're so eager, Mr. Potter, do lead the way."

Mycroft expected Harry to get hopelessly lost in the city dominated by Muggles. He had forgotten that Harry had been raised by a Muggle family. Harry closed his eyes and thought for a moment. It would be located in central London and would need to look normal, at least on the outside. Harry took off at a breakneck pace and the group followed him.

John had to walk quickly to keep up since he was the shortest member of the group. He watched streets pass by as Harry wove through the city, looking for something. John had to give him credit, he was smarter than they had thought. They knew he had to be somewhat intelligent since he had defeated Voldemort, but John was used to Sherlock's brilliance; and very few people compared to him. Then John recognized where they were. Baker Street. He recognized the flat he had shared with Sherlock for so long, 221B. "You think he's here? Mrs. Hudson would never allow that!" John cried, referring to their landlady who tended to act like their house keeper.

"Oh, but she would if she was paid a hefty enough sum that would allow her to live a cushy lifestyle for the rest of her life. Oh, and also the imperious curse," Mycroft said.

"Potter was right?" Sherlock asked, his chiseled jaw nearly touching the ground.

"He was indeed. Now, let's go in," Mycroft led the party inside and they explored the old house with their wands at the ready.

Sherlock examined each body he came to, looking for survivors. "Mycroft, I found your man."

Mycroft came to look at him and clicked his tongue, "Such a shame."

"Sherlock, come take a look at this," John called.

Sherlock walked over and froze. There was Irene Adler. Her face a mask of pain, not at all relaxed in death. Emotions flicked past in his head, but a moment later he turned away. She had betrayed him one too many times for him to mourn her death for much longer than he just had.

"There's no one here who's alive," Greg called from upstairs.

"Look for clues. There has to be something to alert us to his whereabouts!" Sherlock said and they continued the search.

Author's Note

Hello Witches, Wizards, and Muggles! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please vote and comment to let me know what you thought! Thank you!