Let Us All Make History

Time To Take A Chance

    They worked with some sort of fanged plant, a terrifying thing that always tried to bite his fingers when he was repotting it. Professor Sprout had them all wear very thick gloves, however Sherlock's hand got chomped at one point and those gloves did just about nothing to prevent the plant's spiny teeth from sinking right into his skin. His finger started to bleed immediately, and yet despite Molly's insistent pestering to go down to the hospital wing Sherlock just wrapped it in a bandage and hoped for the best. He noticed that Victor was looking over his plant he was repotting with Jeanette, almost as if he was worried for Sherlock's wellbeing now that blood had been drawn, however he looked away as soon as Sherlock noticed. He was an idiot; he was such an idiot, if he thought Sherlock believed whatever angry act he was putting on! Of course he was just trying to defend for his little hurt feelings after not being chosen for the tournament; for Sherlock knew he had wanted it. Victor was second in everything; maybe he thought that this tournament would prove him to be first. And yet that was no reason to be ignoring your best friend, especially when Sherlock never asked for any of this! It was pathetic, he was being pathetic. When finally Herbology ended they made their way up to Divination, which was already proving to be a horrible choice of elected classes. Not only was Professor Trelawney an absolute nightmare but she was also terribly dramatic. She seemed to think Victor had some sort of omen, she saw darkness in him or something like that, and was always telling him that he was going to die. It was ridiculous of course; however she always seemed to be surprised when Victor showed up back in her class, alive and well. This time, however, when they climbed the ladder up into the tower Trelawney immediately swooped over, her shawls and beads jangling so that she was very easily spotted as she approached. She didn't go for Victor; instead she grabbed Sherlock by both of his shoulders and began ranting about how she had known he would be picked, and how she had kept her mouth shut because she didn't want to spoil the surprise. This wasn't very believable since she hadn't made any allusions to it before. Anyone could just claim they had foreseen something, and to be quite honest Sherlock was still having his doubts as to the sincerity of Trelawney's physic powers. She just seemed to ramble, and sometimes she got it right yet most times she just seemed crazy. Her classroom and attire were no help to her claims of mental sanity, for they all sat on poofs and watched as she pranced around the classroom, talking about their inner eye. Sometimes it was funny to watch her pounce on children and predict their futures and guess at their pasts, however it was just sad when she got it wrong. She always seemed so sure about herself, and to watch her get something wrong it was in some ways just heartbreaking. In other ways it was kind of understandable, for it was obvious that Trelawney was just pulling facts out of thing air and taking wild guesses, especially when it came to Victor's imminent death, well that was just ridiculous! If anyone was going to die it was going to be Sherlock, now that his name had been pulled. When Divination ended they still hadn't made any of their own predictions, they were just taking notes on the history of Divination and it was quite tedious, not to mention terribly boring. Sherlock wasn't sure that it actually was a form of magic, and based on the way Trelawney was spewing misconceptions; well let's just say this class wasn't convincing him. When lunch came Victor was a little bit more talkative, or at least he put in his opinions about Trelawney's teaching style as well as Professor Sprout's idea of student safety. He was nursing quite a few bites of his own, clutching as his fingers as if they were hurting him and favoring them while he picked up his sandwich to eat. Sherlock didn't say anything, but at least this time they sat next to each other without wishing their neighbor would choke. Come Potions Sherlock was actually quite nervous, for he knew that John would be there along with all of his friends. Sherlock didn't know how he would be treated now that he was the champion from Beauxbatons, considering that all the kids in Gryffindor probably saw him as some sort of threat to John's victory. It was very funny to imagine Sherlock winning anything, however apparently for the boys they saw him as a legitimate threat. They were among the first to arrive to the closed door (Snape didn't seem to like kids in his classroom before he was ready) and so they just sat there and waited for the Gryffindors to pounce on them like the lions on their badges.
"They won't be mad, will they?" Sherlock wondered nervously while Molly just shrugged. She wasn't fully listening, for she was trying to fix her hair discreetly, as if she didn't want anyone to notice that she was prettying herself up for Greg's arrival. Oh she was such a liar, wasn't she? She claimed that she didn't like him and yet as soon as their paths came anywhere near to crossing she was just all flustered and excited, why didn't she just admit to it like Sherlock did? It was only too easy to admit to loving John, for it really was something like love at first sight. He was beautiful in every meaning of the word, and he was kind, he was gentle, oh how wonderful would it be to get that boy in his arms? How wonderful would it be to be with him, to kiss him and to hold his hand publicly, just to make sure everyone knew they were together? They could be that couple that everyone hated, just because they didn't have something so pure, so magical! And Sherlock had hope, very slim hope but hope all the same. He had made sure to ask around to see if John was single, and all the consensus was that he was indeed unattached. That wasn't anything, of course, for there was so much more to think about when it came to gay relationships, however it was something. Sherlock could at least prey on a single boy; he could work on him until finally he saw some sort of attraction was forming. When the trio of Gryffindors finally made their way down the corridor there was certainly a pool of mixed emotions collecting between them. Molly seemed completely flustered, already with the very promise of Greg's presence there was a blush in her cheeks, and she was anxiously trying to push her bangs out of her face and keep her head down almost as if she couldn't see him coming. As for Sherlock he was becoming more and more nervous, for he could almost feel the accusing eyes coming from the three boys, he was sure that by now, after a night of partying and imaging the cup in his hands, well John probably hated him as well! He was competition, he was probably having a lot of trouble seeing Sherlock as a human being and not just something he could throw around in that arena and laugh when he got pulverized.
"Hey Sherlock, how's my champion doing this fine afternoon?" John teased immediately, holding out a hand to Sherlock for some mysterious reason. Sherlock panicked, and instead of punching it like John was probably expecting him to do he just clapped it rather nervously, managing a smile all while Victor slunk even deeper into the corner.
"I'm fine." Sherlock lied. "Although I got bit by a fanged germanium and that hurt."
"Oh you've got to watch those things, they took off Sholto's finger one time, don't you remember that?" John wondered, looking towards Greg who just nodded, the three laughing as if this poor boy's pain was somehow a great big joke.
"Madam Pomfrey got it all sewed back on, don't worry." Greg said immediately, looking over with a dashing smile towards Molly, who got even redder and turned away as if she had immediate business with the wall across the way.
"How are you?" Sherlock asked nervously, for he really wasn't aware of how to continue such a forced conversation.
"I'm living the dream Sherlock, living the dream." John assured with a smile.
"I saw you with a cape on at breakfast, is that some sort of Hogwarts tradition or something?" Sherlock wondered in a teasing sort of voice, for he thought that it was ridiculous to flaunt around your achievements in the form of a cape. John just laughed however, as if that cape was just too crazy to be fully understood by an outsider.
"Well ya, we had a party last night and they insisted I just wear it." John agreed.
"Oh well it's fine you looked um...dashing?" Sherlock muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up in humiliation as he realized that probably wasn't the best comment to make. Snape's entrance was perfectly timed, for as soon as John opened his mouth to respond the door flung open, letting Sherlock sigh in relief as his cheeks cooled down to their natural temperature.
"Smooth Sherlock, real smooth." Molly muttered, making Sherlock elbow her as they all clambered into the potions classroom for their lesson. They were brewing some sort of potion that turned animals spotted, a sort of useless potion to be honest, however it was obvious that they weren't brewing these things for practicality. Snape obviously just wanted to test their methods of brewing, and as stupid as this potion probably was it was complicated enough to make Sherlock and Molly get a little bit upset. He had the pleasure of working with Molly since Victor was still a bit touchy, and even though Sherlock would prefer Molly over Jeanette he still missed Victor's potions expertise. He and Molly were having quite a difficult time with cutting the roots to the perfect shapes, for neither of them were very good with a blade, and in the end their potion looked drastically different from everyone else's. His consensus, in the end however, was simply one of carelessness. His grade in this class was scary of course; however he now had much bigger things to worry about than just what Snape thought of him. However it would seem Snape had formulated an almost hateful expression to Sherlock as well, for even though he hated the Gryffindors he probably had a tad more pride for Hogwarts than he did Beauxbatons. As a result Sherlock often caught the man looking in his general direction with a sour look on his pale face, scowling as if Sherlock's potion had blown up and smelled like rotten eggs or something. However he did nothing wrong, at least nothing destructively wrong, and so he guessed that it was Snape's fault for being touchy, and so he let it go. Thankfully (or unfortunately, whichever way you looked at it) the Gryffindors also accompanied the Ravenclaws to Astronomy. This way the gangs of kids could walk relatively close to each other, despite their fear of intermingling in public. Sherlock and his friends walked very close to John and his, and so Sherlock had the pleasure of staring at his beautiful golden head all while they made the climb to the astronomy tower were Professor Sinistra was waiting. When they collected in the classroom John, Greg, and Mike all made over to where Sherlock and the gang were sitting, standing next to the tables and looking almost eager to start a conversation.
"I think they've got the Daily Prophet coming to interview us soon, or at least that's what they did with the last champions." John said excitedly, lingering near Sherlock's desk with a bit of a smile on his face. He seemed strangely excited about hanging out with Sherlock, almost as if he was aspiring to get closer, almost as if he had reason to befriend him. It wasn't possible...no, no he couldn't possibly fancy him as well?
"What's the Daily Prophet?" Sherlock wondered curiously, to which John just nodded, obviously having forgotten that they were raised in completely different countries.
"It's our local newspaper, covers all the gossip I guess." John shrugged.
"Last time they did a horrible job, they didn't even get the names right!" Mike pointed out with a bit of a laugh.
"That's because it's Rita Skeeter, and she's just a mess all around." Greg insisted. Molly ducked her head again; however this seemed to be enough to catch Greg's attention, for he smiled and looked at her as if had never seen anyone so adorable.
"Hi Molly, how are you?" Greg asked politely, to which Molly just made a nervous sort of squeak.
"I'm fine." She said quickly, to which Greg just smiled, nodding as if that was precisely the answer he was looking for.
"That's good, it's good to be fine." He agreed, his voice sounding almost as if he was teasing her on her newfound awkwardness. It was completely ludicrous if Molly tried to deny her love for Greg, because she was just making it all the more awkward every time he approached her. It was almost sad how hopeless she was when it came to boys.
"It certainly is." Molly mumbled. Sinistra started up the class right then, beckoning the boys back to their seats, however they left Sherlock with some sort of newfound optimism. John was making an effort, he was acting as if he liked to talk to Sherlock...maybe just maybe there was hope? When dinner finally came Sherlock was in quite a good mood, for he had gotten to say goodbye to John after Astronomy and was therefore able to glimpse that beautiful smile once more. It was a gift; it truly was, to see that boy smile. He was just beautiful in a way that wasn't describable, no he wasn't like Sherlock and Victor, he was different on another plane entirely. He had a more manly beauty, while Sherlock and Victor both gleamed with femininity. He was beautiful in a strong way, in a tough way, sort of like a magnificent rock structure that could never be moved. Sherlock and Victor, they were like meadows, with flowers and sunlight and butterflies. It was different, of course, and yet both natural beauties were just that, beautiful! And so Sherlock was in love, oh he knew that for a fact now, all the while he was just treating John like an everyday crush he knew that there was more to him. He knew that he was special; a boy that Sherlock wouldn't come across in any other aspect of his life, no he wouldn't have the pleasure of happening across such a magnificent boy in France. John was a once in a lifetime opportunity, one which he was jump on simply because he didn't know if he'd ever get the chance again! He had to be aggressive, which really wasn't like Sherlock at all, and yet it was necessary. He didn't care what Molly said about John's being straight, because he knew enough to notice that John certainly wasn't very obviously crushing on any guys. And yet he was being nice, he was being respectful and almost...well almost flirtatious! And it was crazy, of course it was crazy, but even if Sherlock had just an ounce of hope in this bleak, heterosexual world, well then of course he would go for it! What did he have to lose; he would probably die rather quickly in this tournament anyway. And even if somehow they both made it out unscathed then Sherlock would be back to Beauxbatons as soon as the tournament concluded, just a couple of short months and they would never see each other again. Now that was tragic if somehow a relationship did bloom, however it was a good thing if Sherlock was shot down like he presumably would be. He could make his mistakes and just leave them behind, oh so what, it was seventh year anyway! It was time to take some risks, time to get in some trouble, what did it matter if he was denied? He was quite used to that by now; in fact it was the most common side effect of falling in love.

    "I can't believe Flitwick assigned us that paper for tomorrow! Doesn't he understand that we've got other classes to work on?" Jeanette whined, falling into her place on the benches in the dining hall and throwing her backpack moodily on the ground.
"We've had a week to work on it, you haven't found time yet?" Sherlock wondered a bit judgmentally, to which Jeanette just sighed heavily, shaking her head.
"Of course not, I had other stuff to do!" She insisted.
"Like what?" Victor wondered. He was still angry enough to not talk to Sherlock, however there was no way he would pass up an opportunity to make someone feel stupid.
"Well...well like friend stuff, you know? I don't know, just stuff!" Jeanette whined, seeming to realize that her argument really was invalid.
"Then how does other school work have to do with it?" Victor wondered.
"It doesn't, alright, I procrastinated! But still, now I've got like a ton of homework." Jeanette sighed. Even as she said that she seemed to be taking her time with choosing what she wanted for dinner, for evidently she was still trying her best to procrastinate and work well into the night. Sherlock has had his Charms paper done for ages now, for it was their first homework assignment from Flitwick and he wanted to make a good impression. The staff were being rather indifferent about his championship, all except Snape of course, who was being nasty as usual. He got the usual stares from them; however they were mostly kind stares, interested stares, as if they were trying to wonder if he had the ability to win it. No one here knew just how useless he was, well perhaps except John and his gang after they played quidditch together, however the rest of the Hogwarts and Durmstrang kids probably saw him as adequate. They knew only that the Goblet had chosen him, and so they probably thought that he was a legitimate contender and not just a mistake. But the staff were much kinder about it, they even congratulated him sometimes, at least they did on his first entrance after the choosing ceremony. They were much more pleasant than those at Beauxbatons, and Madam Maxine's cold shoulder to her own champion was a perfect example of that. Despite the warmth Sherlock was getting from the Hogwarts staff, however, it was nothing compared to the praise John was getting. Everywhere he went there were cheers from the Hogwarts kids, they would pat him on the back and congratulate him, the staff would talk to him a lot about his tactics and his friend group was swelling with every passing glare. Students from all houses were just so excited for their champion, it was nice to see them all banding together like that, especially since John was such a likable guy. Sherlock's only regret, however, was that he noticed once or twice John was walking with girls in blue robes, girls with sleek blonde hair and fake laughs...Beauxbatons girls. Mary Morstan was among them, Sherlock had noticed her out of them all simply because her hair shined the brightest, she stood the tallest, and she always leaned against the boys she was trying to woo. So when Sherlock saw John trying to support her weight as they made their way through the Entrance Hall Sherlock couldn't help but feel overly defensive, almost as if she knew that there was some sort of competition over John. It was like she tried her best to take all that he loved away from him! Well ha, Mary Morstan, ha that you weren't champion! Ha that you can't get to the top of the class. Ha! And yet Sherlock was still nervously aware that between the two of them John would probably pick Mary, just because she was really pretty, and really flirtatious...oh and she was a girl. That was sometimes a plus when trying to win over guys.