obliviate // potterlock

c h a p t e r 1 3

"Are you okay, mate?"

John sits cross legged on his bed, twirling a stray piece of wool from his pajama sleeve around his forefinger. His brow is furrowed; it has been ever since lunch time. Sherlock said he'd age twice as quick if he didn't stop worrying, but with the sight of his best friend's tear stained face, he can't help it.

Greg doesn't reply. John didn't really expect him to. He hasn't said a word since lunch. But John just wishes his friend would say something. Anything. Because he doesn't know how much more he can take of watching his friend cry into his pillow.

When Greg stormed into defence club, breathing heavily with horror in his eyes, the whole room was shocked. Even professor Magnussen was worried about the shaking Gryffindor who couldn't seem to get his words out. But Greg took one look at Sherlock and it all came tumbling out. Kitty Riley was another victim.

Professor Magnussen left as quickly as he could to find Kitty, his capes billowing behind him. The other students in defence club murmured and whispered and eventually crowded around the shaking Gryffindor.

'What happened?'
'How did you find Kitty?'
'Is this another mudblood attack?'

Question after question surrounded Greg, but he couldn't seem to get a word in. He was like a deer stuck in headlights with nowhere to run. Surprisingly it was Mary Morstan who managed to bring Greg out of his daze.

"Everyone shut up! Can't you see he's in a state of shock?" Mary shouts, and the whole room suddenly turns quiet. Greg shakes like a leaf, and his eyes fill with tears. Mary quickly wraps him in a comforting hug, his head resting on her chest. "Everyone get lost! Defence club is over."

The room quickly empties, with many planning on following Professor Magnussen to try and catch a glimpse of Kitty Rileys body. The only people left in the room are the squad, Mycroft and James and co, much to John's displeasure.

James and his friends walk towards the other crowd, sniggering at Greg. "Merlin, he is pathetic isn't he?" Irene states with a harsh laugh. Sherlock glares at her, stepping between her and Greg, who continues to be comforted by Mary.

"Why don't you just get lost? No-one wants you here." Sherlock retorts, his fists clenching until his knuckles turn white. Irene's fingers flicker to her trouser pocket, which is most likely where her wand is kept. Mycroft instantly notices this and goes to stand beside his brother with a menacing glare pointed in her direction.

Ever since Mycroft found out what Irene did to Sherlock, he's been trying to make her life as hellish as possible. In the common room he makes sarcastic comments which make her boil with rage, and he uses his powers as a prefect to take as many points from her as possible, despite that affecting slytherins chance of winning the house cup.

"I think it best you be going." Mycroft says coldly.

"Don't get all cold, ice man. We just want to hear about the incident from the mouth of the person who was there, don't we?" James says, stepping towards the brothers with a kind grin on his face. Mycroft can see through the act instantly, but Sherlock on the other hand can't help the warm feeling brewing in his stomach at the sight. 'He has a nice smile' Sherlock thinks.