obliviate // potterlock

c h a p t e r 4

Sherlock is sitting in the library studying for his potions exam when John bursts through the doors, his face flushed and his breathing heavy. The librarian shushes him violently, and he apologises loudly despite the warning. It takes the loud-mouthed blond only a few seconds to spot his friend sitting in the corner of the library with his face tucked into a book. John rolls his eyes, and makes his way over with a quick - but quiet - pace.

"Sherlock." John whispers, catching Sherlock off guard. He lifts his eyes in a panic, only when seeing his friend's face realising that it was him, and not some other randomer wanting gossip on him and Irene. John sits quickly in the chair opposite him, ignoring the grunts when the chair scrapes across the floor with a deafening screech.

"What do you want? You're disturbing the peace!" Sherlock whispers angrily, aware of the annoyed stares pointed their way.

"Have you heard what happened?" John asks, folding his hands together on the table. Sherlock shakes his head in confusion. "You know that ravenclaw Carl Powers?" John begins, and Sherlock nods his head. Of course he knows Carl Powers, he's in his house, he's shared a room with him for the past six years! "Well he showed up in hospital today."

"What happened?" Sherlock asks worriedly, closing his potions book with a loud slam. Groans echo throughout the library once again.

"Apparently he's been put under some kind of curse. Not even the professors seem to know what it is, or if they do they've kept it completely top secret! The weird thing is though is that his wand went missing."

"His wand?"

"Yeah his wand. Aren't you listening? Anyway, they found him near the forbidden forest early this morning and madam hudson has been trying to treat him but nothing seems to be working. And no-one seems to be able to find his wand anywhere. But the thing is, people are calling this... a mudblood attack." John whispers the last bit with hesitation. Sherlocks eyebrows furrow, and a frown crosses his lips.

"What made you come to that conclusion?" Sherlock asks curiously.

"I'm not who came up with the conclusion, everyone has been thinking the same thing. And it's ever since that confrontation we had with Irene!" John replies looking around the room to make sure no-one is listening in on their conversation.

"People are just saying that because it's the latest gossip, I'm sure that's not the reason."

"But someone attacked Carl Powers for a reason." John adds, staring at Sherlock with a knowing glance.

Sherlock sighs, rubbing his fingers through his long curls. "Carl is an okay guy. I can't believe someone did this to him, whatever this was."

"They cursed him and no-one knows how to fix him. A real dick did that to him. And I want to find out who did." John says with determination on his features. "But where would we even start?"

Sherlock thinks for a short while. "We should ask his friends. See if he had any known enemies."

"I guess that's a start." John begins to stand back up again.

"But not right now. We have a potions exam remember?" Sherlock reminds John, and his eyes go as wide as cauldrons.

"Oh shit. Tell me the answers."

☆☆☆

John and Sherlock make their way over to their classroom slowly, their heads tucked into the potions revision guide in attempt to remember every last detail they can. Sherlock feels perfectly fine, he can pass this easy breezy, but John on the other hand is in the middle of having an existential crisis.