The Assistant Headmaster (Mystrade Fanfic)

One

Greg.

"Shit! I am so late! Get off, Jenny! Get off!" I practically shoved my girlfriend off of my lap and packed up my schoolbag quickly.

"Good luck, Greggy!" Jenny giggled as I raced out of the lunchroom. I always suspected she didn't realise just how much the position of captain meant to me.

This was my one chance to become rugby captain and my foolishness had cost me the chance. I cursed under my breath as I ran as fast as my legs could go.

All of a sudden, I was sprawled out on the ground on my back. I ran a hand through my black curls and looked up. A tall man stood looking down at me, a sardonic smirk on his face.

Something about him made my heart race. Even I, a straight male, couldn't deny that the man was utterly beautiful. His hair was a reddish-brown, slicked back and looking immaculate. His eyes were a bright, blazing green that seemed to penetrate through me, and his pink lips were pulled into a line. Finally, he extended a hand towards me.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir," I told him as he helped me to my feet. "I should've been watching where I was going."

The guy shook his head. "I'll forgive you this time. However you best be going if you intend on making it to the captain trials." His voice was dripping with elegance and I felt almost unworthy of his presence.

"I-" my voice trailed off and I shook my head. "Thank you, Sir."

He tilted his head to the side, and I sheepishly smiled before continuing to run down the hall.

"Walk, don't run!" I heard him call out behind me, though I heard the smile in his voice. Of course I slowed to a walk... Until I was well away from the man.

Finally, I got to the gym, just as a bunch of lads made their way outside, sweat still dripping off of their foreheads.

"Oh no..." I groaned, tugging at my hair.

The coach wandered over to me, shaking his head sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Greg. Trials have just finished."

I felt my heart drop and swallowed thickly. "It's alright, I understand."

"Maybe next year, yeah?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Maybe." Dejected, I turned and walked back to my room.

I was a student at Baskerville Boarding School. It was a school full of snobby rich kids who really couldn't care less about middle-class peasants such as myself, but I suppose my talent as a rugby player and additional looks made me the exception.

I got to my room, unlocked the door and slammed it behind me before miserably falling onto my bed.

My day just couldn't possibly get any worse.

Mycroft.

I could've been a brain surgeon, or maybe an archaeologist or a philosopher. I could've been anything, really - I had the intellect and means to do so. But what occupation did I fall into? Assistant Headmaster of some tacky boarding school that somehow classed as prestigious. I scoffed at the thought.

It was going to be boring. It had to be boring. I was stuck in a school - and moreover a world - of goldfish. What fun could come from being around a bunch of morons for so long?

I was wandering down along the corridors, taking myself on a tour of the school. I had politely refused Anthea, my personal assistant, when she'd offered to show me around. I might've been something of a sociopath, but even I knew when a woman - or man, even - was interested in me.

I was lost in my own thoughts, and therefore I didn't realise that I'd walked into something, or someone, until I heard a loud umph coming from the ground. I looked down and saw a boy on the ground. I couldn't help but smirk at him. He resembled a deer caught in headlights.

Despite the resemblence, the boy was undeniably gorgeous. His hair was curly and black, his eyes a chocolaty brown, and his skin a gorgeous olive colour. He was well-built, his school P.E uniform clinging to his muscular torso, and I could see he was hurrying to be somewhere.

P.E uniform, rushing, it wasn't a hard deduction. Rugby captain trials were on and he was incredibly late. I held my hand out to him and waited for him to grab it.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir," he said as he grabbed my hand, and allowed me to pull him up to his feet. "I should've been watching where I was going."

"I'll forgive you this time. However you best be going if you wish to make it to the captain trials."

"Thank you, Sir."

The boy ran off down the hall and I couldn't help but smile. "Walk, don't run!" I called out after him.

I smirked as I continued walking down the halls, making my way back to my office. Perhaps this seemingly tedious job wouldn't be so mind-numbly dull after all.

My office was nice. Had a mahogany desk and expensive, plush office chair. My umbrella leaned against the wall as my own personal touch. The carpet beneath my feet was soft, and the walls behind me had book shelves lining them, giving it a nice, comforting feeling. It was almost like my study at Mummy and Father's house.

Out the window behind my desk was a large window which looked out to the back of the school where the gymnasium was. It showed the huge new building and the large field, surrounded by the large trees of pine and oak. It was nice to see people on the field each day, just because it was the kind of thing I had never done.

I looked out there now and saw the boy from earlier running over to the coach. I could see things weren't looking good. It was clear in his body language. I felt a pang of sadness and cursed under my breath, quickly looking away. I didn't care. I wouldn't care. At least that's what I told myself.