Disclaimer: You're gonna make me say it, aren't you? Fine. No, I do not own Harry Potter or Torchwood. My God, that was hard to say!

1 November, 1981

"Jack, have you seen the paper?" asked Jack's boss.

"No, why?"

"There were two mysterious deaths and one mysterious disappearance last night. We've been called in to help."

She tossed him the paper. The headline read:

Tragedy Strikes the Potter Home

Potter. A name he hadn't heard in almost two years. You would think, given how long it had been, that he had forgotten them. But no, he still remembered them. It was actually rather hard to forget. Though he had only known them for roughly a week, James and Lily had been the first two people he had grown close to in a very long time. Not even had his wife been that close to him.

Maybe it's not them, Jack thought. Potter was a common surname, right? But something told him it was the wizard couple that had helped him once, long ago. Upon reading the article,he found that he was right. James and Lily had been killed, and there son was not found at the scene. Authorities had said it was an explosion and the child was there, just not yet found. But something was telling Jack that it was Voldemort.

"I'm going on vacation," Jack said.

"Now?" his boss replied. "Jack, we have to look into this."

"And I have to talk to a friend," he snapped back.

"Ok," she answered.


Late December, 1981

Jack stared up toward the top of the hill. He saw the ruins, and the sign saying closed for repair. But his instincts just screamed "perception filter." So, he climbed the hill. About halfway up, he remembered his boss wanted a report on the blowfish on her desk the next morning. So, why didn't he turn around? His instincts were telling to keep going. So he did.

When he got to the top, the perception filter broke. For the first time in far to long, Captain Jack Harkness was left breathless at the sight of the scene before him. He didn't know if it was the light from the setting sun reflecting on the lake, or the grounds, or the forest, or possibly the many turrets and towers of the magnificent castle. Possibly even all of them. But it was beautiful.

"Who's there?" came a deep voice from behind Jack. He turned, and was again stunned by the sight. A giant man stood in front of him, with a mane of tangly black hair. But he couldn't just stand there staring. So he stood up straighter, trying to appear threatening to this wild man.

"Captain Jack Harkness. I'm looking for Albus Dumledore."

"Alrigh' then, follow me. I was headed there, anyway."

Jack was confused. This man had seemed so frightening only moments ago, but was helping now. He sighed, and followed.

"Name's Hagrid, by the way. What do yeh wan' Dumbledore fer, anyway?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't really think it concerns you."

"It concerns me ter know how a Muggle like you got in, don' it?"

"Determination. I really needed to talk to Dumbledore. Plus, I just ignored your perception filters. They were pretty powerful, though."

They had arrived at a gargoyle statue. Hagrid didn't seem to want to argue with Jack. Jack was fine with this.

"Acid pop," Hagrid said, confusing Jack. But only momentarily. This was a common strategy at the Agency, so he was quick to retort.

"Pudding," he said.

"what?" Hagrid asked, stepping through an entry way that had not been there before.

"You said something random, so I said something random back," he explained, following him. "Nice escalator," he added, referring to the moving spiral staircase they were standing on.

"Wha's that?"

Jack openend his mouth to explain, but remembered that wizards knew nothing about electricity, so instead said, "Never mind."

they were now standing outside an oak door with a brass knocker. Hagrid rapped on the door, and a calm voice told them to enter. Hagrid beckoned for Jack to go in first.

"Ah, Captain Harkness. It has been far too long," Dumbledore said once Jack had closed the door.

"I'm going to get right to the point," said Jack.

"Yes, please do."

"I heard about two months that James and Lily had died. Is this true?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"I also heard that there son was missing."

"Hagrid picked him up shortly after the incident. He is currently at his aunt and uncle's home."

"The official story is an explosion."

"No, it was not. It was murder."

"I know. It was him, wasn't it? Voldemort?"

"Yes. Do you have any other questions?"

"Just one. Where were they buried?"


31 October, 2007

Jack stepped through the kissing gate and into the small graveyard. He knew exactly where he was going, and within moments, was in front of the grave he was looking for. He stared at it for a moment before his vision blurred with tears. It wasn't often that he succumbed to tears, but it always happened here. While little kids ran around, dressed like ghosts and vampires, he was here, mourning the loss of two friends.

It was then that he felt the comfort of someone's arms around him. They were strong, but gentle. He knew who it was even before he heard the Welsh accent.

"It'll be alright, sir," came the voice of Ianto Jones, right in his ear.

AN: I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! Anyway, I'm all done! First thing's first, thanks to everyone that read this: you get virtual cookies! Next, to all who reviewed/favorited/alerted this story: thank you virtual muffins! Finally, to all of you who waited for ever to get this epilogue: virtual cupcakes (which are just muffins in funny hats). I'm posting another story soon, called There Goes My Life. It will be Doctor Who/Supernatural, so look for that if you're interested. Good-bye, everyone. Love y'all:)