Methods Beyond Magic

A Professor's Love Life

"I heard Mr. Watson's brain was in fragments around the stairs, and that Madam Pomfrey had to sweep them all up to put back in." said a very incorrect first year, looking eager to state his opinion.
"We're talking about stunning, not Mr. Watson." Sherlock decided, poking the projector once more.
"I heard that he was asleep and got kissed, and woke up, like Sleeping Beauty." Another said with a smile. Sherlock couldn't help but laugh to himself. No, he was kissed after he woke up.
"And who do you presume kissed him? Certainly not Madam Pomfrey?" Sherlock asked with a laugh.
"You, of course." they said with equal enthusiasm.
"Stunning spells, does anyone even care about education right now?" Sherlock asked, waving his hands rather impatiently, although he did have a smile on his face. It seemed so long ago that he had actually smiled this much.
"We care more about your love life." shrugged a little girl, who appeared to be taking notes.
"Well, you all don't get to hear about my love life, as inexistent as it is." Sherlock decided.
"Then why are you smiling, you never smile that much." a boy pointed out.
"I'm happy John is alive, I'm relieved, is that not enough?" Sherlock asked.
"No." they shrugged.
"Get out your notes, and you, Sanchez, I see what you're drawing and I don't like it very much." Sherlock decided. A girl hastily slid a piece of paper into her desk, looking rather red in the face. "Stunning spells!" Sherlock said very loudly, and finally the class came back to attention. The rest of the classes went the same, and at dinner Sherlock felt many young eyes on him as he picked around at his chicken, not particularly hungry. He kept looking over to John's empty chair on the staff table, hoping that maybe it would miraculously be filled with that beautiful caretaker, making jokes and talking aimlessly with Flitwick. But no, John was bound to be at the hospital wing, eating alone. Sherlock wanted to go say hello, say how much he had enjoyed that kiss, how his life had just gotten thirty thousand times better, but he decided to eat alone as well. Sherlock didn't want John to think that one kiss meant spending all of their time together. If it did mean that, then Sherlock would have to get rid of Victor to spend time with John, and somehow get rid of John to fill his daily quota with Victor, it would just be too much. No, he would spend his time with Victor but his heart would be with John, that would be how it worked, somehow. Sherlock wouldn't mess this up because he couldn't mess this up, the only thing he wanted right now was John, and he seemed to be the only thing he couldn't have. Even worse, it seemed like the more time he spent with John, the more danger he would be in, the more accidents he would have, the more Victor plotted his revenge. And eventually tormenting John wouldn't be enough to keep Victor happy, then he would start leaking secrets, realizing that the strings on his puppet were starting to snap. Sherlock wasn't too happy about his entire reputation being ruined, but he knew that John's life was a lot more important than his social status. John meant everything right now, and so Sherlock would stay as far away as he could. When Sherlock was done with what little dinner he had, he trudged up to his room, staring longingly down the hall to where he knew the hospital wing was, with John in there waiting, hoping for Sherlock to walk through the doors. No, he had to be strong, for John. So he walked farther up the stairs to his room, turning the corner and seeing a figure leaning against the door fame of his classroom. Well, it was no bloody shock when Victor raised his head, a smile on his snakelike lips.
"Hello Sherlock." He said with a smile. Sherlock sighed; keeping his distance and feeling a shiver go down his spine. Now he wasn't even annoyed, he was downright scared of the boy at his door.
"Hello Victor." He agreed, stiffening up as he walked closer to his door to unlock it.
"How's our favorite caretaker doing? Better I hope? We need that brain to work at full speed, we need him to be able to piece together the puzzle." Victor said with a laugh. Sherlock's fingers were shaking so much that he nearly dropped his key, having to press it up against the lock with his leg to make it turn.
"Shaky today, are we?" Victor asked.
"Just kind of, in shock." Sherlock admitted, not able to look up at Victor's face. He was sure those blue eyes were fixed right on him, a small smile on his lips as he examined every inch of Sherlock, as if seeing which part would be the most fun to break. Sherlock finally opened the door and walked into the classroom, standing near the projector and shuffling together some papers. He heard Victor walk in very slowly, closing the door with a soft snap and inching ever closer.
"Does he know? Have you planted the idea in his head that it was...intentional?" Victor whispered.
"Of course, he needs to protect himself." Sherlock agreed.
"Grown rather found, Sherlock, have you?" Victor asked. Sherlock kept his head down, hearing the footsteps coming closer, fighting the urge to run.
"He's a good person, it's hard not to." Sherlock admitted.
"You'll find that it's not too difficult." Victor whispered, so close that Sherlock could feel his breath on the back of his neck.
"You should talk. Can't get what you want, so you simply take it." Sherlock snapped.
"Oh, I got what I wanted, so did you, I just wasn't ready to give it up. There was a time Sherlock, a time when you loved me." Victor insisted. Sherlock felt Victor's arms wrap around his chest, holding him tight and, Victor's chin settling itself on Sherlock's shoulder. Shivers went down Sherlock's spine, but he knew he couldn't do anything, he knew that he was at the mercy of this devil in green.
"I miss those days." Victor purred, his voice so close to Sherlock's ear that he could feel his nose brushing up against stray curls.
"I never loved you." Sherlock managed, wanting to shake himself out of this prison.
"Feelings or not, we still kissed, we still had a night, you still had an affair with a student. And when Dumbledore finds out, you have to fall on your knees and beg him to let you stay, you have to convince him that you did love me, because then it would be a whole lot worse." Victor whispered. "So tell me Sherlock, do you love me?" Sherlock took a deep, nervous breath.
"I love you." He managed, closing his eyes as he said it, wincing as if the words had wounded him. Yes, he had loved Victor, yes, he has to love Victor, but no, he doesn't love Victor. He loved John, and right now, the man he loved was probably lying in his hospital bed, thinking that he had screwed everything up. If Sherlock hadn't visited by now, that meant he was avoiding him, and the only thing that had happened was that kiss. John probably thought he had scared Sherlock away.
"Music to my ears." Victor muttered, pressing kisses to Sherlock's cheek as he spoke. "More beautiful than any symphony." Sherlock closed his eyes even tighter, trying to imagine that it was John's lips that were kissing him, trying to image that it was John slowly turning him by the shoulders, to face the boy in front of him, that it was John's lips he was now forced to kiss. But no, it was most certainly Victor, because there was no spark at all, not love, no happiness. It was hallow, sad, and lonely, feelings that the beautiful John Watson couldn't radiate if he tried.