John rose early on Christmas morning, to find Sherlock not in his bed. Assuming that Sherlock was doing something with his family, or doing his own thing, as he usually would be, he lay down again, waiting for him to come back in. By the time it was eight o'clock, however, Sherlock still hadn't returned, so he decided to check to make sure he was alright.
                              Picking up his present, which he'd wrapped the night before, he crept out of the bedroom, careful not to wake anyone up, and down the stairs.
                              Creeping through the kitchen and dining room, he eventually noticed a small, hunched over figure in the corner, with messy black hair in clumps.
                              "Sherlock!" John whispered violently, half-jogging over to him.
                              Sherlock continued looking down at whatever was in his hands.
                              "Sherlock, what is it?" He asked, wrapping his arms around him to try to warm him up again. In his hands, there was a crumpled up note, which, from what John could see, said 'NOTHING CAN KEEP HIM SAFE'. Sherlock ried to hide the note from John, but realised it was no use.
                              "Sherlock," John whispered, "what's happened?"
                              "He- Um- He sent me a note before-" Sherlock explained "And so I knew I couldn't leave you at Hogwarts and-"
                              "Sherlock. Calm down. Two things- 1. I can fend for myself - I've had to for almost my whole life. I know you want to make sure I'm okay, but don't get worked up. I'm here, and I'll be here as long as you want. 2. Really? When were you going to tell me that James Moriarty was sending you letters again. Did you not consider this as a thing I might want to know? Especially if he's targeting me. Jesus, Sherlock. Communication!" John slightly ranted.
                              "I wanted to keep you from worrying?" Sherlock tried.
                              "That's Bullshit and you know it, Sherlock. You didn't tell me because you thought that maybe it'd be a trick and you wouldn't have to worry about anything" he retorted "Either way, it's better to let me know than let me sit here, oblivious, like a sitting duck. Christ!"
                              There was a small pause, in which Sherlock mumbled a quiet apology, which was broken by John offering Sherlock his present.
                              "Anyway, all things forgiven, I hope you like it. Merry Christmas" He laughed.
                              "Aw! Come on, this isn't fair. I left mine upstairs. Stop upstaging me!" Sherlock complained, then got up and ran to his bedroom to fetch his present.
                              "Here! He called when he reached the end of the room, chucking John a small red parcel, complete with a bow and a card, both clearly done by Sherlock with great precision.
                              "Here. We'll open them together" John suggested, pulling out the card attached.
                              John
                              We've had plenty of times where it seemed there couldn't be any possible way you could forgive me, and it seems that the universe is trying to split us up, but everytime, you've stayed, and you've always forgiven me.
                              I wish you a very happy Christmas, and a jolly (I believe is the word people use) new year, and have high hopes for our future.
                              Much love (that sounds stupid doesn't it)
                              Uh... Here's to next year?
                              Sherlock
                              He laughed as he pulled off the ribbon and started tearing the wrapping paper, but came to an awkward halt when he noticed Sherlock carefully picking at the sticky tape to get it off. John immediatley copied, and eventually got the paper off. He pulled out a set of sugar quills and chocolate frogs.
                              "Thanks so much!" He exclaimed. Sherlock meanwhile, was trying to open the box of his present.
                              "Jesus John! Overboard on the sticky tape!"
                              John laughed, and helped Sherlock with it, eventually revealing a box set of the Sherlock Holmes books.
                              "You've probably read them but I couldn't see them anywhere in your room, so here you go. One question... You weren't named after him were you?" He asked.
                              Sherlock laughed in reply. "I've actually never read them." he confessed "Mum and Dad have told me to like a hundred times, but i've never really gotten the chance to, but here they are."
                              And with that, Christmas commenced.
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                              I'm gonna try to get myself to update this every thursday, so keep an eye out for it. If I don't stick to that, I'm sorry, but have a chapter!
                                      
                                          
                                  
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Faults of the Fallen - Sequel to Impossible
FanfictionSequel to 'Impossible - A potterlock fanfiction'. After their eventful first year at Hogwarts, Sherlock and John return to their studies and stay ahead of their classes. It all seems to be going fine. Until the fifth year, which is when Sherlock beg...
