Hogwarts

The Students Come Marching In

It seemed as though he had the floor now, with everyone else asleep. Sherlock was sitting against the fire place, looking as though he was in his own little world of thoughts, and John was a little bit away, in front of the fire leaning on an armchair.
"Butterbeer?" he asked, holding one of the last bottles up for Sherlock to see.
"I've had so many, but I guess one more can't hurt." He shrugged.
"Until you have to go to the bathroom at 2 in the morning that is." John debated, but Sherlock crawled over, grabbing the bottle. John cleared away all of the boxes and bags and empty cans from next to where he sat, opening a space for Sherlock to sit. He patted the floor next to him, and Sherlock sat down next to him obediently. He popped open the tab with a little fizz, sipping a little bit from the bottle.
"So, have you enjoyed vacation so far?" John asked, semi awkwardly.
"Not much really." Sherlock sighed.
"I thought that was the answer. But this is kind of fun right?"
"It's a nice idea I guess, and the food is good." Sherlock shrugged.
"You're still way too skinny to be healthy though." John pointed out.
"Thanks for noticing."
"If I didn't who would?"
"Mycroft." Sherlock pointed out with obvious disgust.
"Maybe." John agreed. "I don't see what you two have against each other really, you have so much in common."
"So that means we're constant rivals, and I hate to admit it but he wins at most everything." Sherlock said, the most well-known secret ever.
"Well he's older; don't be so hard on yourself." John assured. Sherlock shrugged, sipping from the bottle once more.
"Still, it don't think it's fair, he always rubs it in, thinks because he's one year older that he can be my mom away from home." Sherlock groaned.
"Be happy, I'm stuck with Harry, the most immature annoying curse of a sister you could ever have."
"At least you've got the magic and not her."
"That means she constantly uses it against me, she's only jealous though." John pointed out.
"Of course she is, all the muggles would be if they knew about us, that's one of the reasons we stay secret."
"And then, if they can't get the powers they'll wipe us out." John agreed.
"Jealously, rage, fear, it all wins in the end." Sherlock sighed.
"Well I guess we should be happy we're wizards then."
"Doesn't mean we're above all that, I speak from experience."
"What can you possibly feel so negatively about?" John asked, but he decided that maybe he shouldn't have asked that. He was Sherlock; he had a sob story for the smallest of things.
"Losing you." He admitted, a little bit quieter like he was embarrassed. The firelight flickered along his pale face, illuminating his eyes and making it hard to look away.
"Well don't worry about that, I'm not going anywhere." John assured with a small smile. Sherlock nodded, his cheeks glowing red in the firelight and from embarrassment. John took a huge leap and put his arm around Sherlock's shoulders, like two teenagers on their awkward first date to the movies. Sherlock was perfectly cool with it though, leaning into John and resting his curly head on John's shoulder. This was what John had almost been dreaming of since he knew they might be able to be together, fireside cuddling. Such a girly wish really, but he knew both of them were treasuring each other's company. John set down his butterbeer, smiling happily but indiscreetly, so that Sherlock couldn't see. He could feel the Ravenclaw's heartrate spike though, ever since he had leaned in.
"I don't want to lose you either, I don't like it when you run away like you did before." John sighed.
"Well, in my defense..." Sherlock started.
"I know it was all my fault, I shouldn't have listened to Dumbledore, I was being stupid, a good little student, never again Sherlock." John assured.
"Thank you."
"For what?" John asked with a small glance to Sherlock.
"For everything." Sherlock shrugged.
"You're welcome." John decided, holding him closer. There was no more conversation between the two that night, just the flickering firelight and the tiredness of the hour creeping up on them, Sherlock slowly dozing off on John's shoulder, his breathing steadying, snoring ever so softly.

When the sun rose Sherlockwas gone, off to where John had no idea, but there was a weight missing fromhis shoulder that he felt even before he opened his eyes. John groaned, lookinggroggily around to see that the fire was burning down to the last embers,sending smoke billowing into his face. Sherlock was sitting next to the fire,leaning once again on the rock pillar and watching John as he stirred. "Good morning." He said, sounding fully awake. "I guess you could say that." John decided, stretching his now cramping legs.Greg was just starting to stir as well, his head bobbing slightly on hisshoulder. Mycroft was still asleep; the only one that had made it underneaththe blanket fort in the end, but that was just because he was a good little boyand went to bed on time. John threw a couple of crumpled wrappers into the fireto try to get the heat going again; he was blanket less and shivering in thecold air. "Did you actually go to sleep?" John asked. "A little bit yes, and then I got up and read for a little bit." Sherlockshrugged, holding up a book for John to see. "How'd you read in the middle of the night, where was the light coming from?"John asked. "It's not too difficult to make ink glow, and it's not enough to wake youpeople up." Sherlock said simply. "Why aren't you going to stay in the wizarding world, you're brilliant!" Johngroaned. "I'm bored here, magic is only say the right words and flick a stick until youget results, Muggles have to work for that, they have to build stuff, it'sfascinating." Sherlock pointed out. "I think it's rubbish, they have to, as you said, build everything. They can'teven summon stuff, they actually have to get up and get it!" John pointed out. "A little bit of exercise would do a lot of wizards good." "Says you." John laughed. "What's that supposed to mean? Our only sport involves sitting and throwing."Sherlock pointed out. "Neither of which you are capable apparently." "It was my first time flying, and I would've done just fine if you hadn't pushedme!" Sherlock defended. "Yes, that's on me." John admitted. "And you had to play hero as well, diving off the broom to save the damsel indistress." "You're calling yourself a damsel?" John asked with a laugh. "It was a comparison, I'm not actually a girl, but I was in distress and yourevealed your true identity as the idiot who is willing to get himself killedas long as it looks cool." Sherlock decided. "Oh shut up, I saved your life." John defended. "No you most certainly did not, I would've been fine, you survived with just abroken leg." "So knowing you, you'd do your best to land on your neck." "If you hadn't been so annoying I could've gotten my wand and cast a spell tomake us slow down or not hit the ground at all, but nooooo, we had to do thingsthe hard way." "Ah, how nice it is to wake up to the old married couple." Greg's voice sighed."We're neither old nor married so I don't see your point." Sherlock said withconfusion. "And you can't take a joke. How could you possibly sleep against that rock?"Greg asked. "I didn't." Sherlock shrugged. "He read." John clarified. "How do you know that?" Greg chuckled. "Before we were 'fighting like an old married couple' we actually talked." Johnpointed out. "About what?" Greg asked. "Why do you care?" John defended. "Muggles." Sherlock answered at the same time, making Greg just laugh. "Is Mycroft up yet?" he asked with a yawn, looking under the blanket fort andshaking Mycroft's foot, making the Head Boy let out a very girly scream. "Oh that's attractive." Sherlock laughed. "Shut up Sherlock." Greg snapped. "Good morning sunshine." "Oh would you get off?" Mycroft growled, shaking Greg's hand off of his foot."What time is it?" he asked. "Around nine." John answered, looking at his watch. "Oh that's brilliant." Mycroft sighed. "What's wrong with that?" Greg asked. "Nothing, I just don't usually sleep in much." "You don't go to bed late either Mr. Perfect, get up you're embarrassing."Sherlock decided. "If I'm taking orders from you, brother dear, then I'll be sinking very low."Mycroft pointed out, but he sat up anyway, making a head shaped lump in theblankets on the top. Sherlock just sighed, letting his head fall back onto thewall. "Breakfast anyone?" John asked. "No." Greg said quickly, "I ate way too much junk last night, what I need is arun or something." "I'd love to see you try to run outside today." Sherlock laughed. "Kind of my point." Greg sighed. "You athletes and your, athletics. Inever understood the need." Mycroft sighed, saying it like it was a curse word.
"There are two types of people Mycroft, and they are classified as you two andus two." John pointed out.
"What's that supposed to mean? I don't want to be in the same category asthat." Sherlock groaned.
"Book people and sports people, sorry Sherlock but I can't exactly put you inthe sports category unless you can make it up a flight of stairs without losingyour breath." Greg said with a laugh.
"Are you calling me fat?" Sherlock snapped.
"More dangerously skinny. You need some meat mate." Greg decided.
"I'm going to pretend you never said that." Sherlock muttered. "Am I expectedto stay here all day?"
"No." Mycroft said.
"Yes." John said at the same time. Sherlock sighed; of course there are conflictingdecisions.
"Whatever you want I suppose." Greg shrugged. Sherlock sighed, but he didn'tmove.
"This will be a long break." He decided. And it was. It was brilliant to haveSherlock back of course, he brought company and mild entertainment to John'spreviously dull life of freedom, but most of the days he was very cranky and hejust sat on chairs reading or scowling at fixed points in space. Mycroft andGreg were, of course, flirting away like little girls, so that made everythingsink even lower into the crap of life. They did what they always did on theirfree time, but since they had so much and no interruptions even their normalfun activities sounded worse than sitting in Binns's class for the day. Whenthe train arrived on Sunday night, the smoke rising from behind the lake, Johncouldn't help but be relieved. Soon the halls were filled with students fromall grades, showing off their gifts, wearing new clothes and hair bows,preforming new spells their parents had taught them, the castle was alive. Theonce silent Gryffindor common room was louder than ever, it was hard to evenstand in the midst of the excited students. Some of the first years werealready homesick, but the older kids knew that they were home when they were intheir house, and if it's a house, then the kids in Gryffindor were family.

"Makes you want to stun them all doesn't it?" Sherlock asked. They were sitting in one of the back tables, watching all the kids moving around and talking. Greg was off talking to some of the quidditch kids he hadn't seen about the match, which he missed as well. England had played Argentina over the break, and it would've been a promising match. Mycroft was doing his Head Boy duties, leading kids from the train to the castle and helping the first years with their luggage.
"It's a nice change." John shrugged. Sherlock just frowned as a spark flew across the room, flying into the fireplace and causing a loud explosion of smoke and embers.
"It's not like this in Ravenclaw." He muttered.
"So why aren't you over there?"
"I prefer it here." Sherlock shrugged.
"Speaking of Ravenclaw I never thanked you for that hat; it made me laugh to think that they make those things for all of the houses." John said. "And the gloves too, mine were peeling."
"And thank you for the book, I did read it you know, that was mostly where I was." Sherlock agreed. This had been the first time in a while that they actually had some time alone together, even though they had been up to their necks in free time they had also been around Greg and Mycroft.
"So, I don't want to poke the bear here, but I can't stop thinking of that whole Boggart thing." John said after a little while. Sherlock sighed, looking at the floor.
"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you." He muttered.
"No, it's fine, really, but I want you to know I am not going to die, and if I do I'm not scared to." John assured.
"You say that now."
"Yes, I do, and if that time ever comes I won't go back on my word."
"Thank you John." Sherlock sighed.
"Mycroft's though, my god, he needs some priorities in his life." John decided, trying to lighten up the mood like the rest of the common room.
"He such a nerd." Sherlock agreed with a laugh.
"The clown was creepy though, that I understand." John added.
"When Mycroft and I were just kids our parents took us to this one carnival, it was near our house and we decided that maybe it would be fun. We went into this haunted house thing and there was a clown there, it was hilarious. It jumped out from behind a corner and dad stunned it and Mycroft was sobbing and I blew up half the wall." Sherlock said with a laugh. John couldn't help but join in; muggle attractions had only one method of terror, jump scares. "They claimed it was a gas leak and we got a free pass to everything else, but we just got that fluffy pink stuff and left as fast as we could before the Ministry caught up."
"You mean cotton candy?" John asked.
"Ya, that." Sherlock agreed.
"That sounds hilarious. The only funny thing that happened to me when was Harry ate too much and went on the Farris wheel, threw up over the side, right into the line." John said with a laugh. Any dirt he had on Harry was worth sharing to as many people as he could because torturing John was one of her only hobbies.
"I've heard a lot about this Harry, what is she like exactly?" Sherlock asked, leaning forward on his elbows and looking at John.
"Well, she's one of those punk rock sort of people, black clothes, black hair dyed blue and pink, never caught dead without her earbuds and at last four pieces of gum. She's a jerk and she likes to take her feelings out on me." John shrugged.
"Sounds like a true pleasure." Sherlock said with a sarcastic smile.
"I'd trade Mycroft for her any day." John agreed.
"Oh, you don't know what you're getting yourself into with that one. He may pretend to be a lovable mother but really he's a tyrant. Always stalking me, keeping me on such a tight leash, I'm barely allowed to walk out of my room without his permission at home." Sherlock sighed.
"Well he only wants the best for you."
"As in trapping me in a room like bloody Rapunzel? That doesn't fit my description of best." Sherlock defended.
"Well, Greg seems to like him." John shrugged.
"Poor guy. I swear if they end up being married he's going to regret the day he was born." Sherlock guessed.
"Maybe Mycroft's only so protective because you're his little brother, and he feels like it's his responsibility to keep you safe."
"You've seen me; I'm never safe where ever I go. Bring me to a nursing home and they'll probably attack me with their sewing needles or burn me for witchcraft." Sherlock laughed.
"Wizardry you mean?"
"Same difference." Sherlock shrugged.
"Hey John, England won!" Greg said from across the room, making the group of people he was with whoop with excitement.
"Oh joyous, England won." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes.
"If they keep going like this they could win the World Cup, it's coming up soon!" John said excitedly, ignoring Sherlock's comment.
"You're getting tickets I presume?" Sherlock guessed.
"Of course, and if England is actually in the final, that's brilliant!" John exclaimed, imagining his favorite team holding the quidditch trophy over their heads.
"That's over the summer right?" Sherlock asked.
"Ya, close to the start of term."
"Well maybe we could all go together, that is, of course, if we're allowed." Sherlock suggested.
"That would be even better!" John agreed. Sherlock smiled at his childish excitement, and John couldn't help notice the way his hair swished slightly over his forehead. It was like a watch swinging, so distracting and hypnotizing, bloody attractiveness will be the death of him.