The Holmes of Hogwarts

23. The Night No One Slept

John lay in his bed, on his back, and twiddling his thumbs under the covers over the healing bruised abdomen. It was later that night, after John's failing attempt. Though Sherlock didn't press on about it. Which John was thankful for. The Ravenclaw had more to dwell on; after all, that was just the first attempt and first step taken at figuring everything out. John couldn't sleep tonight, his anxiousness keeping him up. Although, not to his current knowledge; he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep this midnight hour.

Through the muffled snores of some of the boys in the dormitories, including Philip. John heard a light tapping by the window, which sounded like- an owl? He listened, his head rising off his pillow and his elbows behind him.

Tap- Tap- Tap... Tap-

John pushed back his sheets and creeped over to the window beside him. There he saw again, it was Redbeard. He quickly opened the window for him as the small owl bounces back. John wasn't expecting anything from Sherlock, so this was a bit of a surprise. Luckily little redbeard had a note again, which he gladly gave up.

Entrance hall.
Beware prefects.
-- S.H.

John, now more prepared, fed little Redbeard his reward. Which was a dead grasshopper, which Sherlock provided for him. The grasshopper came from his bedside table in a glass jar which had a stash of them. Redbeard seemed satisfied and flew away. John closed the window and got ready. Putting on his trousers, a shirt, a jumper, and his cloak. Although not to his knowledge, he was being watched. John grabbed his wand and snuck out again, the door cracked again.

Greg waited for him to leave out the door, before pushing his sheets back and going after him.

John was half way down the stairs when he heard him.

"John!" Greg called, but John ignored him and walked into the common room. "Oi, John! Oh now you're even ignoring me like him."

John spun around, "What?" he sneered.

Greg was at the bottom of the stairs, his foot reaching off the last step to the floor. "Where you headed off too?"

"It's really none of your business Greg, go back to sleep." John stated dismissively, as he turned around again, and took only a step forward until-

"You're going to see him aren't you?" Greg remarked, both his hands in his pockets. John paused, taking a really deep inhale, attempting to control his anger. "We're not allowed out after dark... I'll tell if you leave." Greg spoke to Johns back, as he watched his hands beside him become fists.

John turned around to face him, glaring. "Oh yeah? Like you told Dumbledore that Harry was the only one who used magic that day at hogsmeade? Wouldn't want to rat out a team mate... I guess the extension doesn't go out to me," he muttered, walking backwards towards the door. "Not that I'm ever surprised..." he said slyly, as he turned around and walked out of the Gryffindor common room.

When the painting door closed behind him, he was engulfed in darkness. He quickly took his wand out and snuck down the stairs, taking one step at a time, and made his way to the Entrance Hall. As he takes his last step, his sleeve is grabbed, and he's pulled to the side of the stairs. John is startled, and begins to try and hit his attacker.

"John! it's me." Sherlock whispered sharply, holding both of John's hands down.

Suddenly John stops, and his eyes widen, even though he can see nothing but darkness. "Sorry. Thought you were Greg for a second," he whispers an apology as Sherlock lets go of him.

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "And if I was— it would have been death by fists in robes!" he sneers in a whisper. There's a moment of silent embarrassment for John as Sherlock takes out his wand and lights the tip of it. "Lets go," he says while turning down a corridor right beside the stairs.