Sherlock determinedly raised the handgun to the German's head. Aiming for the middle of the forehead, Sherlock looked into Magnussen's dead, shark-like eyes and saw emotion. A feeling of triumph momentarily washed through him at the sight of unbridled surprise and fear in those eyes, but it was fleeting as he focused on his next action. He made to pull the trigger. A shot rang out. It took Sherlock a moment to realise as he lay on the ground with John's solid, protective hand on his back, that the shot fired wasn't his. He dimly remembered ducking as soon as he registered an unknown bullet emerging from the head he was aiming at, John only two seconds ahead of him in reaction time. As he lay on the ground beside John, surrounded by special ops and staring at the cooling body in front of him, there was a moment of pause before the whole area descended into a chaos that even Mycroft was hard pressed to control. He couldn't help the smirk that spread over his face at the scene before him. There was only one man he knew that had perfected the art of chaos to the point where he didn't even have to be present to create it. Not even Moriarty was that good, though Sherlock would grudgingly admit his nemesis had come close. Even as they were being led away in handcuffs, the look Mycroft send Sherlock had his smirk widening into a grin.

Miles away, sitting in a fairly sturdy tree, Harry Potter slipped back on his glasses. He'd had his eyes magically healed as soon as he was legally able, but had kept his glasses to avoid unwanted attention and unnecessary headaches while he was still in the wizarding world. Learning his eyesight would deteriorate to the point of blindness had been a very good incentive to get the procedure done, but the extra enhancements, which improved his eyesight to a vampiric standard, he had paid only fifteen galleons extra for had increased his less than exuberant attitude towards it. Harry took a moment to gaze in the direction of the erupting chaos. He saw the helicopter circling above the building and dark spots of movement on the ground below it. Relaxing against the trunk of the tree he was sitting on, Harry couldn't but think that his actions were worth it, even if it meant killing a man.

Truthfully, Harry would've offered to assassinate Magnussen himself, as he found the man more morally inept than even Rita Skeeter. Even then, not only did Skeeter have slightly more morals, she was infinitely more tolerable to be around. Harry had only spent five minutes within the man's presence and in that time had used every trick in every book known to man, to hold himself back from breaking the shark's nose. He was still thanking every deity he knew of for not being recognised at the time. Regrettable as it was, killing Magnussen the way he did had saved the Holmes brothers a bit of trouble and served the purpose of sending a message to both Sherlock and Mycroft that he was still around. He was sure he wouldn't be connected to this incident. Even if he was, he was confident in his ability to disappear. He wouldn't be found if he didn't want to be. The Wizarding World was a good example of that, as they had yet to find him. That could be because I made my last "death" seem very permanent, though, he thought drily.

Harry had known he wouldn't live happily in the Wizarding World and he had issues with people and social norms in it that he would have to work through before he would even consider returning to that world again. As it was, he didn't really have the motivation to work through such issues, so he generally kept his distance unless absolutely necessary. Glancing down at the gun resting in his lap, Harry remembered promising himself the day he "died" that he would never again fight for anyone else but himself. Never again would he let strangers push him to the front lines and cower behind him. Gazing at the sleek black and hard lines of the weapon, he told himself this was different. He might not fight for the world, but he would kill for his family. Because his family was all he had left.

Disassembling the stolen and magically modified sniper rifle, though the scope was unnecessary, Harry checked for any noticeable evidence that it was him who been in the area. His glasses slipped slightly down his nose and while roughly pushing them back into place he decided to get rid of them as soon as was viably possible. Not only had they become more annoying since the correction but they were far too recognisable. While that was helping him set up some meetings with people who could help him stay anonymous in future, it would make staying inconspicuous awkward. Shaking his head to physically clear his thoughts, he took another glance around to be sure he hadn't missed anything in his moment of distraction. Then, after gathering up any leaves that had fallen during his time in the tree to make the investigation extra difficult, he disapparited without a sound.

This is just a little piece I was inspired to write after Sherlock finished once again. It's very short in comparison to some of my other work but when I attempted to make it longer it just... didn't seem to flow as well or something. Anyway, I have a couple of other ideas I'd like to add to this but for now I'll leave it there. Hope you enjoyed it!

(19/07/2015)Just made a small adjustment to explain a detail or two relevent in later chapters. Thanks to HarnGin for pointing it out!