Amortentia

Part 36

When the sunlight was streaming through the open window, John blinking a couple of times, trying to remember what happened. Unfortunately, he did remember, and it wasn’t a dream, because his arms were around Sherlock, cuddled in the middle of the living room floor next to a monopoly board. Sherlock’s eyes were still closed, and John hoped that when they opened they’d be back to their beautiful green, and not red. John didn’t try to escape yet; he enjoyed the feeling of closeness he had to Sherlock, feeling his warmth, his love. Sherlock’s eyes twitched and John watched them open, back to green, normal, beautiful eyes.
“Good morning.” He mumbled.
“What, oh my god did we…” Sherlock stammered.
“No, no way, but you sir, were very irresponsible, you got high!” John said. Sherlock blinked once, and then his face fell.
“What did I do?” he asked with worry.
“Nothing much, you just kept going on and on about, me.” John muttered. Sherlock laughed once, and a smile appeared.
“Well it figures, you’re the only thing I can think about when I’m normal too.” he laughed.
“But what were you thinking, you really need a good impression now more than ever, and this happens!” John pointed out.
“Have you ever gotten depressed?” Sherlock asked. John was not expecting that answer.
“No.” he said simply.
“Well it’s the worst feeling in the world, everyone hates you, and you have no reason to live on, every single nerve of emotion is negative, and I had to escape. That’s why I do drugs, because for the longest time I didn’t have someone to pull me back.” Sherlock admitted.
“Don’t Sherlock, there’s no good in it, please, just don’t do drugs anymore, I thought they confiscated them!” John pleaded.
“They did yes, but I got more.” Sherlock admitted.
“Please, don’t.” John begged. He didn’t realize how much he was against it until now, it wasn’t good for Sherlock’s health, or his mind, or his reputation. Sherlock sighed; obviously not ready to have this conversation this early.
“Later okay, I’m tired.” Sherlock decided.
“You just woke up.” John pointed out.
“Yes, but if I don’t try to fall asleep again you’ll leave.” Sherlock said with a small smile. John smiled back at him, aware of how close their faces were. Sherlock closed his eyes and rested his head back on the carpet, pretending to fall asleep, but he was breathing normally. John closed his eyes too, breathing in Sherlock’s hypnotizing sent, feeling his warmth against his body, fighting off the cold air drafting from the frosted windows. If Sherlock had made a good impression before, it was definitely out the window now, first a secret relationship, and then a professor, now John had a secret relationship with a professor who was addicted to drugs. But he called his parents Mrs. and Mr. Watson and helped do the dishes, so things even out don’t they? John didn’t care what his parents thought; he knew Sherlock’s heart was in the right place. And John’s heart was trapped hopelessly by the sight of him, the beautiful baritone of his voice, the beautiful emerald eyes. Without meaning to, John pulled Sherlock closer; if possible, there was no space between them now. Of course neither of them actually fell asleep, they lay there until the room was bathed in sunlight, but artificial light was the light that made them both come to their senses. John blinked, looking up to see Harry, still in her pajamas and bedhead, holding her phone up to take a picture.
“Now I’ve got ransom.” She laughed. John scrambled to his feet, looking at his sister with pure hatred. She put on a confused face.
“Hmm, well, you’ve been a jerk lately, I had to sweep up the tree, you know, I think you could’ve volunteered.” Harry started.
“No, Harry, don’t you dare.” John said, hardly able to believe that she would ever do anything but threaten with that picture. Sherlock was sitting up against the coffee table, ready to help if needed.
“And remember that time, when we were little, when you decapitated all of my dolls and strung their heads on a string? I think this will be payback.” She decided. John’s eyes widened, she really was going to post that. He jumped at her, grabbing for the phone, but she sidestepped and he went crashing into the cabinet.
“Well that wasn’t very nice. You know, I have Grandma’s number…” she said innocently.
“Harry don’t you dare, you know she’d disown us all!” John exclaimed. Harry smiled cruelly. John attacked her again, this time not going for the phone, but full on tackling her to the ground, wrestling for the phone. He actually got a good grab at it, but she bit his arm, which was extremely painful. He got her in a headlock when the phone flew from her hands and into the living room. The two siblings stopped, looking behind them. Sherlock was standing, wand raised, and phone in hand.
“Now let’s not get too harsh.” He decided. He looked a while at the phone, clicked a few buttons, and set it on the coffee table, wand still raised if anyone tried anything.  Relief flooded John, what would all the people on Harry’s Facebook page say? There were actual adults on there, teachers even.
“Did you delete it?” John asked hopefully. Sherlock gave him a look as if saying, you’re such an idiot sometimes.’
“Of course I deleted it, I’m not that stupid you know.” He said, lowering his wand.
“Well…” John said, shrugging his shoulders and getting up from the floor.
“Oh you shut up.” Sherlock said, but there was a smile on his face that melted John’s heart.
“You two are like an old married couple.” Harry observed.
“And you’re an old cat lady already, what’s your point?” John hissed. Harry smiled knowingly, and John scowled at her.
“You two are just like me and Mycroft, although I never hesitate to whip out my wand and jinx him.” Sherlock said proudly.
“Who’s Mycroft?” Harry asked.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Sherlock said.
“So, you’re not high anymore I’m guessing?” Harry asked. Sherlock’s smile disappeared; he looked at the floor with guilt.
“I hope I didn’t do anything too horrible.” He muttered.
“Oh no, you were just talking about how handsome John was, and how nice his hair was, and how you were so lucky to have John, it was so sweet.” Harry said with a sarcastic smile. Sherlock looked mortified, obviously slapping himself in his mind. He didn’t deny anything, which made John’s heart seem to grow a bit more in his chest.
“Are your parents mad at me?” Sherlock asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.
“You’re not on a good path, I’ll tell you that.” Harry said, and with that she went into the kitchen and got a frozen Toaster Strudel and put it in the toaster. Sherlock stood there, looking at the floor, his mind going a million miles an hour. It didn’t take telepathy to know what he was thinking, he was thinking he was a failure, that no one liked him or appreciated him, and that he’d be sent home. John wanted to slap him for thinking that way, remind him that as of right now, Sherlock was the main center of his attention, of his brain and heart. If Sherlock was sent to Hogwarts, John would be on the train next to him, if Sherlock was banned from his family forever, John would be right next to him, holding his hand where no other Watson could ever find them.
“Are you okay?” John asked a stupid question really. Sherlock took a deep breath and looked at him, his green eyes deep with sadness that John didn’t want him to ever feel, he didn’t deserve it.
“No, of course I’m not okay.” Sherlock muttered. John wanted to walk up to him, hold his hands, kiss him softly and tell him how much he loved him, but of course he couldn’t do that, Harry was in the kitchen.
“You should be, you really should be okay, you should know that nothing my parents ever say will matter.”
“What am I supposed to do, ignore the fact that your family won’t cringe at the mention of my name?”
“Yes.” John said simply. Sherlock looked at him with a slight hint of annoyance, but a small smile appeared on his lips, but it was fake, his eyes showed no hint of happiness.
“It’s not that easy you know?” Sherlock sighed. John glared at him, trying to say everything he wanted to with his eyes, but Sherlock didn’t look up from the floor.
“Hey, while you two are having your little moment, I’m hungry, and if you two get within a foot from each other my breakfast will come right back up.” Harry said from the kitchen, smearing icing on the Toaster Strudel while leaning against the wall. John glared at her with such hate that she looked a little bit taken aback. Sherlock didn’t look different though, he seemed to have expected something like that, maybe worse. The stairs creaked as someone came down, and immediately Sherlock straightened up, fixed his hair, brushed off his jacket, and put a mature look on his face. Mrs. Watson came down the steps, looking horrible. There were circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept all night, and she glared at Sherlock as if he was the one responsible. John wished she wouldn’t be so hard on him, all he did was try to make a good impression, and then jammed all the negatives he had into one day.
“Good morning Mrs. Watson.” Sherlock said, but he didn’t sound confident.
“Good morning.” She said with a sharp voice. John glanced at Sherlock, but he wasn’t showing emotion yet, he was an empty shell. She passed John and Harry with a fraction of a smile, but John could tell she’s just about had it with their guest. John decided it would be best to skip breakfast this morning, stay out of his mother’s wrath for the time being. He glared at Sherlock to follow him, and walked up the stairs to his room. He could see through the open door of his parent’s room that Mr. Watson was just waking up; the shape of his head was moving under the covers. To John’s relief, Sherlock was behind him, and when John got into his room, Sherlock was there also.
“What am I supposed to do?” Sherlock asked John immediately. The door was still open, John was sure if Mrs. Watson saw it was closed she’d barge right in and make sure they were both at least two feet apart.
“What do you mean?” John asked, although he knew the answer.
“I mean your mother can’t look at me without cringing.” Sherlock said, louder than he should.
“Just get back on her good side.” John said. Sherlock rolled his eyes; his sadness had turned to annoyance.
“I can’t, don’t you see, she will never like me because I was bloody stupid, and now she’ll probably ban us from each other forever.” Sherlock said, his voice sharp.
“Sherlock, just calm down, please, I won’t let them do anything to you, you’ll stay here, and I’d suffer all of hell before I left you voluntarily.” John promised. Sherlock looked at him, his green eyes clogged and unreadable, but his face was soft.
“I might have to leave; I won’t stay here if your parents don’t want me.” Sherlock insisted. John groaned, but once Sherlock made up his mind, there was no going back. John would do the same position if he was in Sherlock’s place, but he’d definitely do his best not to do drugs while there.
“Let’s just forget this for a while okay? Let’s sit and talk about normal stuff, like Hogwarts and stuff.”
“The heir.” Sherlock decided. John sighed; he knew this would come up eventually.
“Why are you so obsessed, whoever it is, they’re dangerous, really dangerous, who’s to say they won’t kill you?” John asked.
“I know what the risks are, and I’m not obsessed, I just really want to find out who this bloody menace is and eliminate the threat.” Sherlock said with a smile.
“Eliminate as in send to Azkaban right?” John asked without question. There would be no deaths in this operation.
“Of course.” Sherlock assured.
“Any ideas who it could be?” John asked uncertainly.
“Of course I’ve got clues, Snape is still in the top three, he’s very suspicious.” Sherlock said, his mind working fast.
“I know you two don’t like each other, but is there proof?” John asked.
“Yes, of course there’s proof, he’s old enough to have opened it before without getting caught, and he’s head of Slytherin house, he hates the kids, especially you and me, which would be why he tried to frame us, it’s elementary.” Sherlock said quickly.
“But he’s a professor; Dumbledore must trust him enough to let him teach students.”
“Obviously Dumbledore doesn’t know him well enough.” Sherlock decided. John sighed, sitting on the bed, thinking.
“Is it worth it? I mean, I know they’re dangerous, but with the basilisk dead and the Chamber found, what’s their threat?” John asked.
“They need to pay for their crimes, for wiping you mind, for paralyzing all of those defenseless students, it’s wrong.”
“I don’t want to be part of this,” John paused, seeing the disappointed look on Sherlock’s face, “But I think I have to be whether I like it or not.”
“That’s more like the John I know.” Sherlock said with a smile. John smiled back, and for a moment they were sitting in a happy silence, momentarily forgetting the problems at hand. There was a slight knock on the door frame, and they looked up to see Mr. and Mrs. Watson standing in the doorway, their faces grim. Sherlock’s smile fell so fast, John was wondering if it had ever been there.
“Sherlock, could we talk to you please?” Mr. Watson asked politely. “Only Sherlock please.” He added as John started to get up. Sherlock looked at John with a calming glare, and silently followed the parents into the office. John shut the door to his room, he didn’t want to hear the conversation, and he feared the worst. He buried his head in his pillow, refusing to believe they’d send Sherlock home. He didn’t do anything wrong, he was hiding from his feelings, from any emotion; it was John’s fault he had been caught. If only he had left Sherlock in his room to leave the world behind. Sherlock didn’t deserve this especially when he already thinks everyone hates him. John’s parents weren’t mean people, but when it came to protecting their family, nothing will get in the way, but Sherlock wasn’t a threat, he was probably going to be the new member of the family if everything went the way John wanted. A farm with bloodhounds, two rocking chairs on the porch, sitting in the warm breeze and watching the sunset with Sherlock by his side, years and years from now, seemed like it couldn’t come too soon. It wasn’t long until Sherlock came back into the room, but his face was grim, as if he were about to cry again, which would only break John’s heart farther. John asked him what happened with a mere glance, but Sherlock only looked back with a sad look. He sat on the bed in silence, next to John, and hung his head.
“They don’t want me here anymore.” Sherlock muttered so softly that John had trouble hearing him. But when his voice goes that low, it was time for John to flick his wand to shut the door, just in case Harry was stalking around with her phone. He put his arm around Sherlock comfortingly, trying to calm him down.
“I’ll come with you.” John promised.
“No, you stay with your family, enjoy what’s left of your Christmas while you still have it.” Sherlock insisted. John wanted to push the subject farther, but Sherlock twisted around to bury his head in John’s chest, tears streaming down his face yet again. When John first saw Sherlock in the hospital wing, one of the first faces he remembers, he would never have thought this would happen, to see him cry like a baby into his chest, but here it was, breaking his heart anyway. He put his arms around him, making sure he felt safe, protected from the evil that lurked beyond the safety and warmth of John.
“Was that it?” John asked nervously.
“Yes, they said we’re allowed to stay together…” Sherlock said, not finishing his sentence.
“Sherlock it’s okay, it’s okay now, I’ll write to you every day.” John assured.
“Don’t inconvenience yourself with me.”
“Sherlock, you are not an inconvenience; you’re a priority, absolutely my main focus.” John assured.
“John, you need to focus on finishing Hogwarts, know what you want for your future.” Sherlock insisted.
“You are what I want for my future, Sherlock, only you.” John said firmly. Sherlock raised his head to look into John’s eyes, their faces only centimeters apart, and it felt as if a magnetic pull were pulling them together. His eyes were so beautifully sad; John could stare into them all day if Sherlock would let him.
 “I don’t care what other people think, about me, about anything. If you know it’s what you want, if it’s okay, they’re just humans, they can’t do anything.” Sherlock muttered, as if trying to convince himself what he said was true. “If you didn’t have that memory charm, you would remember that was what I said to you at the lake.” John remembered from the potions room, when Sherlock first tried, and failed, to kiss him, he had said the Amortentia had smelled like a lake, where he had his first kiss. It seemed like a fantasy story, where John had been one of the characters, wrapped up in everything that happened and it all came back to him. He wished he could remember the first time they had ever kissed, the first time John actually saw Sherlock, the train rise to seventh year, even the summer seemed interesting even though it never was. John kissed Sherlock lightly, just to agree with him without saying anything, and the same buzz that flew through him every time returned, setting John’s nerves on overdrive and his heart beating a mile a minute. When John pulled back Sherlock didn’t continue, obviously feeling guilty of having any attachment with John at the moment, which was a shame because John didn’t think twice about what his parents said. Obviously Sherlock took it to heart even though they were being incredibly unfair.
“It’ll be alright Sherlock, don’t worry.” John assured. Sherlock nodded without agreeing with him, and sat up, giving them a decent sized space between. John hated the space, but it stood there, taunting him. Sherlock sighed, and silently went to his room to pack up his trunk. The Hogwarts Express was available all break, just because these things do happen, with relatives coming in, something could happen and the muggles could find out there grandson was a wizard and send them away, it wasn’t uncommon. Unfortunately it wasn’t that easy with Sherlock, magic had nothing to do with this, it was bad decisions and drugs. John sighed, wondering what he would do with his break without Sherlock with him. He would be trapped in a house with his family, who he couldn’t even look in the eye without blushing.