When he woke up he extinguished his wand light and pulled open the curtains around his bed. The sun was shining and all of the beds around him were empty, which meant he had slept in too much. He made sure to fold up the letter carefully and put it in the envelope. He didn’t have time to change, and thankfully he was still in his robes from yesterday, so he stuffed his wand and the letter in his pocket, grabbed his bag, hoping he had all of the necessary books in it, and ran down to the common room, where his friends were impatiently waiting. John tried to make sure his face was dry of tears as he walked up to them.
“How was your night?” Greg asked nervously.
“Fine.” John snapped, still pretty upset with them.
“Quidditch tonight.” Mike pointed out. John had to admit, that did lift his spirits a little bit, but not enough to forgive them for not telling him about Professor Holmes and his relationship. They climbed out of the portrait hole and walked down to the Great Hall. The hallways had a couple of stragglers, but for the most part they were pretty empty.
“So are you going to ask Mary to the ball?” Sara asked.
“I don’t know anymore, it seems if I do someone is going to commit suicide.” John said.
“He said he’ll kill himself?” Greg asked with horror.
“No, but it seems like he might.”
“Any chance you can just give him a chance? One dance?” Mike asked.
“What am I supposed to tell Mary?”
“To go dance with her friends for a little bit, you can explain everything that happened.” Sara suggested.
“I’m not going to tell her that Professor Holmes is in love with me!” John demanded.
“Are you still going to ask her?” Greg asked.
“I guess I have to.” John shrugged. They got into the Great Hall, and immediately John checked for Professor Holmes, to find that his chair was empty. John looked at his friends to see if they have noticed the absence, which they had.
“Where do you think he is?” John asked nervously.
“Probably ate earlier, he used to do that.” Greg assured. John nodded, hoping something wasn’t wrong. If Holmes actually did kill himself, it would be John’s fault, and he couldn’t live with that guilt.
“Do we have potions today?” John asked as they sat down. Sara got out a schedule, looking at it briefly.
“Ya, we do.” She said. John nodded with understanding. If Holmes wasn’t there they’d know something was wrong, if he was there, then John would just have to avoid being on the same side of the room as him. He looked over Mike’s shoulder to the Ravenclaw table, where he saw Mary talking with her friends as usual. John felt guilty; he didn’t want to ruin their relationship for something as pointless as this. Mary was a great girl, John would be lucky to have her, but apparently Holmes had been his first love, and if he hadn’t been lying about anything the two had been very close. That was a very weird concept, his past self had been pretty rebellious to be dating a professor. Assistant Professor a little voice whispered in his head. John ate a couple of bites of food, but he just wasn’t hungry, nervous, guilty, complicated. When breakfast was over they headed over to Care of Magical Creatures, where Hagrid was talking about the giant squid in the lake, which was pretty interesting. After he was done talking about it, they got the chance to throw little bits of duck food to the squid and watch as orange tentacles rose from the water and pulled the food under. Their next class was Astronomy, where they were talking about Horoscopes, which is predicting your fortune by what month you were born in. Apparently John, since he was born in October, was supposed to have a successful career but die an early death. He never believed this crap, even Professor Sinistra said that they were rubbish, so he wasn’t that early. It was like Divination all over again, predicting death every other minute. After that, when John was going to lunch, he met up with Mary in the hallway. His friends made rushed excuses to leave the two, and soon they were left alone in the hallway.
“So, how was your day...?” John asked awkwardly. Mary glared at him, and he knew why. She was still expecting a Yule Ball invitation.
“My day was fine. One of my friends had gotten invited to the ball, so it was pretty exciting.” She said.
“Oh, right, do you want to go to the ball with me?” John asked, pretending he had forgotten all about it. Mary’s grumpiness disappeared as she cried yes and threw he arms around him, practically strangled in a hug. Once she released him she went into a full out description of her day, talking about what she had for breakfast, what happened in her classes, the drama with her friend and the guy she didn’t want to go with but said yes to because she wanted to go to the ball. John was smiling and pretending to be listening, but he was grinding his teeth in annoyance, when would she just realize that he didn’t care? There must have been advantages with going out with Holmes a while back; he didn’t share his life story in a minute. John pushed the thought out of his head, Mary was great, she talked a lot, but all girls do, he wasn’t going to go out with Holmes. When they got to the Great Hall they had to, unfortunately, split up to go to their separate tables. He and Mary kissed quickly, promised to see each other at dinner, and went their separate ways.
“Did you ask her?” Greg asked.
“I was kind of forced, she was glaring at me and brought up that her friend was asked…”
“Who was it?” Sara asked.
“I don’t know someone! But I had no choice.” John shrugged.
“You sound like you didn’t want to go with her.” Mike pointed out. John groaned, scooping potato salad onto his plate.
“I read Holmes’s letter last night.” John said simply.
“And?” Sara asked hopefully.
“It was very deep, he just poured out his soul to the paper, it made me cry actually.” John admitted.
“Will you give him a chance?” Greg asked hopefully.
“I don’t know, if I give him a chance I’ll have to leave Mary and if it ends up I don’t like him then I’ll be alone.”
“But you will like him, I know you will, back then you were probably making wedding plans.” Sara laughed.
“Since when was I gay, when did that happen?” John asked.
“You insisted it was only him, and we believed you of course, but one day we got detention for blowing a potion up and when we got there he was playing his violin in the moonlight or whatever, and you stood at the door with your mouth hanging open for about thirty seconds before I called you over.” Greg explained. John covered his face with his hands, so conflicted right now.
“There’s quidditch tonight right?” John asked.
“Ya, why?” Mike said.
“I need something to take my mind off this.” John said, and with that started to eat his lunch. Sara had checked the schedule and they had potions after lunch, which worried John a little bit, he wasn’t prepared to face Holmes after what happened last night. He couldn’t believe he was only a millimeter away from kissing a guy, a professor. It gave him shivers just thinking about it, it was just wrong, all of it, but according to his friends it was worth it, he had been madly in love with him. McGonagall had been right, it had been staring him in the face, literally. He silently decided that he’d see Holmes without Mary knowing, pretending to have quidditch or something, but the very thought made him feel like a terrible person. He had never cheated, he hadn’t had a lot of girlfriends either, and Mary was the most serious of them all, his crush since forever and he was actually thinking about leaving her. He looked up at the staff table, hoping to see him sitting there, even watching John would be okay because that means he wasn’t in depression or something like that, but the chair was empty again, which only made him more worried. When lunch was over , John and his friends walked down to the potions classroom, John a pace ahead of them, now extremely worried about Holmes’s wellbeing. When they got there the door wasn’t open and a couple of students were waiting outside, which only made John more annoyed, tapping his foot and watching the door hopefully.
“In a hurry?” Greg asked him.
“He wasn’t at lunch either, I’m worried now.” John admitted.
“What do you think could happen, it’s not like he’d do suicide, right?” Sara asked.
“You didn’t read the letter, he said his life not be worth it after I rejected him.” John sighed. Sara smiled, but tried to cover it up; it was obvious she loved their relationship.
“How many letters did he write?” Mike asked.
“One for each day apparently.” John shrugged.
“That’s really sweet.” Sara squeaked. “Where’s the letter now?”
“Um, in my trunk, I didn’t want anyone to read it.” John said quickly. He didn’t want to tell his friends that it was actually in his robes pocket, he couldn’t leave it in his dorm, it was too touching to part with. The door swung open and Snape scowled at them as usual, but it didn’t bother Joh, this time he was desperate to get in, in fact he was the first one through the door. To his horror he saw Professor Holmes’s desk was empty, the chair pushed in as if no one had sat in it all day. John went to his seat, Greg close behind.
“Okay, now I’m worried too.” Greg admitted.
“What do we do?” John asked. Greg looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.
“I don’t know if there is anything we can do now, but maybe once Snape leaves, after dinner or something you can go check on him or something.” Greg suggested when the coast was clear.
“You’re saying I’m supposed…”
“Instructions on the board.” Snape called, interrupting the middle of John’s sentence. John looked up to see Snape watching them suspiciously, which made John feel like hiding, Snape’s glare was as if he was reading minds. John turned his attention to the blackboard, where the instructions for the potion were waiting. He read it over briefly, and then he and Greg started to work, doing there absolute best to make it satisfactory. Unfortunately, once again, it was the wrong color and lumpy, which was definitely wrong. Since Holmes was absent Snape was the one walking around and ‘helping’ students, which to him was yelling at them and giving zero points. John watched nervously as he came over, looked in the caldron, knowing they were bound to fail. Snape scowled at the potion as if it was the most horrible thing in the world, flicked his wand over it, and the potion disappeared.
“Memory loss is not an excuse for pathetic potion making Watson.” Snape hissed.
“Sir, where’s Professor Holmes?” John asked as Snape was turning to leave. He turned back, sneering.
“Lost without your little helper?”
“No, but is he okay?” John asked.
“He’s off today.” Snape said simply.
“And tomorrow?”
“I don’t know yet, and it’s not my problem.” Snape hissed, and moved to another table without waiting for a response. When he was out of earshot, Joh turned to Greg desperately.
“What’s wrong with him?” He asked.
“How should I know?” Greg asked with annoyance.
“I’ll come down before dinner.” John decided.
“Do you want us to come?” Greg asked, crossing his fingers the answer would be no.
“No, this is probably something I should do alone.” John decided.
“Are you going to ask him to the dance?” Greg asked hopefully.
“No! I already have a date, but I’ll just make sure he’s alright.”
“Okay, but don’t be afraid, just remember he loves you too.” Greg said with a smile. John rolled his eyes, but he was secretly pleased to hear that for some reason. When potions was over they went to Herbology, which was boring and uneventful, so when dinner finally came everyone was relieved, especially John, even though he was nervous. Greg had promised to make sure Snape was gone, pretending to have a question and if the office was empty then it was all clear for John. The two walked nervously to the corridor, Mike and Sara promising to meet them in the Great Hall. When they got to the door, John hid around the corner and listened to Greg knock on the door a couple of times. After a while there was no answer, so John came out of his hiding place and gave Greg a thumbs up, pushing through the door.
“Where is his office?” John whispered.
“Second door.” Greg said, pointing to a small hallway in the back. John nodded and tiptoed to the hall, hoping Snape wasn’t hiding anywhere. He approached the door, deciding if he actually wanted to do this or not, but held his breath and knocked on the door cautiously. After a while there was no response, and John was pretty sure there was nowhere else for him to go other than his office, now he was very worried. He looked around, making sure he was alone, and opened the door silently. The room was dark; the only light source was the small window, casting a beam of dim light into the middle of the room. To John’s shock this wasn’t Holmes’s office, it was his dorm. There was a cold fireplace, which was the weirdest thing to see in Hogwarts because the house elves kept them going year round. On the mantel there was a skull, staring at John with empty eye sockets, making John jump back in fear. He looked around and saw a shape lying in the bed, not moving. John forgot his fear, running up to Holmes with every hope he was alive. His eyes were closed, and John couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.
“Professor?” he asked loudly, looking around to see if there was anything to have caused this. His heart seemed shriveled up, even though he knew it shouldn’t, it was just like the boggart, except this was real, and it would be his fault. He checked Holmes’s pulse on his neck, right under his ear, and to his relief he could feel a very faint thudding, at least he was alive. His skin was cold and in the dim light John could see he was paler than usual, which wasn’t a good sign.
“Professor!” John called, louder this time. He tried to shake him awake, but his eyes still didn’t open, his pulse didn’t quicken, it was if he was in a coma or something. John was starting to panic, what was he supposed to do, he could never ask Snape, anyone who wondered where he was would know John snuck in. John desperately put his ear to Sherlock’s heart, and was able to hear a dull thumping, faint and slow. Then it increased all of the sudden, pounding so loud that John almost jumped back, but he couldn’t, he felt hands clasp the back of his neck and push him onto the floor, sliding off of Holmes’s bed and slamming into the wood. John tried to talk, to explain what was going on, but he couldn’t breathe, Holmes was strangling him, thinking he was being attacked or something. John flailed his arms, trying to escape his iron grip. John had to get air, his lungs were screaming with protest. As a last resort he pulled out his wand, firing a disarming spell at Holmes. He was thrown back into the wall, crashing into it with a hard thump. John scrambled to the floor, gasping for breath, his neck feeling crushed. Holmes was sliding down the wall; his eyes were bright red, as if he was on some type of drug. John got to his feet, pointing his wand at Holmes just in case he went crazy again.
“Professor?” John asked nervously, the dim light making Holmes’s pale skin seem to glow, making him look like a ghost. He didn’t answer; he sank to his knees on the bed and then fell off, falling to the floor with a painful clunk, making John jump back in surprise.
“Professor are you okay?” He asked nervously.
“JOHNN!” Holmes screamed, his hands shooting out, trying to grab John’s ankles. John jumped back, stumbling over a chair but regaining his balance, his wand pointed at the professor but he was too afraid to use it. He was truly scared now, Holmes’s legs were twitching uncontrollably, he was still in the clothes he was wearing the past night, the purple shirt and slacks, but his jacket was missing. If John hadn’t known him before he would believe he was some type of mental patent.
“Professor what’s wrong?” John asked. He stopped moving at once, lying still on the cold floor, breathing rapidly. John was terrified; he had no idea what to do, should he bring him to the hospital wing? Make him lie back down?
“Professor are you okay?” John asked. That might have been the most pointless question John had ever asked, but it was an automatic question.
“Johnnn…” Holmes muttered into the floor.
 “Ya, it’s John, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” John assured in a quiet voice, as if he was talking to a scared dog. He approached the professor, who still hadn’t moved, cautiously, expecting him to jump to life any second and attack him, but he just lay on the floor breathing heavily. “Professor, why don’t you get back in your bed, I’ll get Madam Pomfrey, and she can make sure you’re alight.” John said softly. Professor Holmes pressed his face to the floor, mumbling something that was impossible to understand. John came up to him, his wand still in his hand but not raised, not wanting to scare him.
“Professor Holmes, why don’t we get up okay?” John asked. Holmes’s head turned around so quickly John jumped back. He didn’t say anything, his red eyes flying around the room. “Want to get up?” John asked, holding out a hand for Holmes to take, offering to help him up. Holmes didn’t move though, he just lay on the floor motionless. “Come on, get up.” John said, more forcefully this time. Nothing. “Professor you need to get up!” he demanded.
“Yes.” Holmes muttered, but did nothing to get up. John lost his patience, taking Holmes’s hand and trying to pull him up. The professor did nothing to help him, and weighed a lot more than it seemed, so John was practically dragging him across the floor by the arm. His skin was cold but soft, and very, very pale, which couldn’t be good. When John finally got him to the bed he gathered up what was rest of his strength, heaving Holmes onto the bed. He looked up at John without any emotion, his red eyes terrifying John.
“There we go, now I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey and then…” John wasn’t able to finish his sentence; Holmes had grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the bed with strength that seemed to be impossible for someone so thin. John did his best to resist, but he crashed down onto Holmes, rolling to the side and hitting his head painfully on the wall. Instead of attacking, which John was sure he would do, Holmes held John to him like a teddy bear, wrapping his arms around his chest and putting his chin over John’s shoulder. John stood stone still, horrified. Holmes didn’t move, but John could feel him breathing, his chest moving up and down slowly. John was now so confused, terrified. Holmes seemed to be relaxed, as if John’s presence made him feel better. It was the most awkward situation John had ever been in, he could feel Holmes’s head resting on his own, his arms pinned down by his arms. Holmes didn’t move for a while, he seemed to be asleep, but that wouldn’t fool John this time, he was sure as soon as he moved Holmes would too. It had been maybe half an hour, and John had relaxed a little bit, knowing all Holmes wanted was his company. He had no idea what he was going to tell his friends, they were probably at dinner by now, or even at quidditch. John couldn’t miss quidditch, he was the captain, but if he was going to show up late he needed a cover story, because there was no way he would tell this to anyone other than his friends. After an hour or so he was certain Holmes was asleep, his breathing had slowed and his grip had loosened, but not enough space for John to escape with. After a while though, John started dozing off too, and without realizing it he had fallen asleep too.

                “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!” someone screamed, waking John up with a start. He looked up to see, to his absolute horror, Snape standing over them, looking absolutely furious. Holmes woke up too, his eyes were less red and he looked fairly normal now, but John couldn’t tell for sure. John stumbled out of the bed, as far away from Snape as possible.
“I swear I can explain!” John defended, but Snape looked as if his mind was not going to change. Holmes blinked rapidly, looking around the room with confusion.
“What in the world?” He mumbled. “What happened?” he looked at John with amazement, as if he was starting to piece the clues together.
“I came in to see if you were okay and you were on drugs or something, you strangled me and then you fell to the floor and wouldn’t move, so I pulled you into the bed and you pulled me in with you and I swear to god nothing happened.” John said quickly. Snape looked scarier than John had ever seen him, his skin was white, his nostrils flared.
“To Dumbledore’s now!” He demanded.
“Professor I swear it was nothing!” John insisted. Snape glared at him, and he knew he wasn’t about to change his mind. John didn’t move, and Holmes was still looking around the room with confusion, trying to figure out what in the world just happened.
“NOW!” Snape screamed, making John practically run to the door in fear, he did not want to get on even worse terms with Snape right now. Holmes followed him out at a respectful distance, blinking and stretching. John had no doubt now that he was on drugs, he had been completely out of it and then he didn’t remember, as if he was half asleep the whole time. Snape walked behind them to the stone Griffin that was the entrance to Dumbledore’s office. He told them to go up, and he was going to get John’s head of house, which was McGonagall of course. That shouldn’t have made John feel better, but according to Greg, McGonagall liked their relationship. John stood in the entrance, Holmes standing next to him. Snape muttered something they couldn’t hear, and then the griffin rose, revealing a staircase leading up to Dumbledore’s office. When the griffin stopped moving, the two awkwardly climbed the staircase together, not wanting to get too close in case they accidently touched or brushed shoulders. When the staircase ended there was a wooden door with a griffin doorknocker. John guessed that was Dumbledore’s signature animal or something, because it seemed to be everywhere.
“Uh, should we knock?” Holmes asked, his voice high pitched.
“I think so.” John nodded. Holmes knocked on the door, ignoring the doorknocker completely. There was a slight pause, but then the door opened and Dumbledore stood before them.
“Ah, Mr. Watson, Mr. Holmes, come in.” He said, opening the door wider to let them in. His office was an amazing place, filled with silver magical interments buzzing and whirling on the desks. The walls were covered in pictures of all of the previous headmasters, talking and whispering to each other as John and Holmes walked in, as if they knew what was going on already. The most amazing part of the room though, was a bird perched on a golden stand, red and gold, like fire, it was a phoenix. Dumbledore himself was rather calm, sitting in his desk chair and rustling through papers on the desk as if he had forgotten about John and Holmes’s presence. They stood awkwardly in the doorway, as far as politely possible from each other. There were a couple of random chairs placed in front of the desk, but they hadn’t been offered to sit, so they just watched him expectantly.
“Um, sir, are we in trouble?” John asked nervously. The headmaster looked up at him, as if just realizing he was there.
“We’ll see apparently.” He said with a smile, and went back to his work. John couldn’t afford to get in trouble, he wanted to be an auror, and to be one he needed perfect records, and this didn’t seem like an ignorable fact. They stood in the doorway until they were forced to move back by a knock on the door. Dumbledore called for whoever it was to come in, and the door opened forcefully, Snape stormed in followed by McGonagall. She was expressionless, but Snape had a smug, triumphant smile on his face.
“Have a seat please.” Dumbledore said finally. John and Holmes both picked their way over nervously, not wanting to look to eager as they sat down in the mismatched chairs. The two professors stayed standing, making John feel trapped. He was supposed to be at quidditch by now, they were probably wondering where he was.
“Severus, please tell me what happened tonight.” Dumbledore instructed. John almost smiled; Snape’s first name was funny.
“Well, I returned from dinner and noticed Professor Holmes’s door was open, and I found that odd because he had spent the day trapped in there, and he never left his door open, so I went to investigate.” Snape started. John wanted to kick himself for leaving the door open, if that hadn’t happened he wouldn’t be where he was now. “It was dark in the room, so I light a torch to see two figures cuddled up in the bed. So of course I had to yell at them, and I found that it was Mr. Watson, one of my suspicions for being in a relationship with Mr. Holmes.” Snape finished. John opened his mouth to protest, Snape made it sound a lot worse than it was, but Dumbledore glared at him to be quiet. McGonagall looked shocked, John couldn’t tell if she was happy or not, but right now he was going to go with no. Dumbledore thought about the story for a little bit, his eyes closed for some reason.
“Professor Holmes, your side of the story?” he asked abruptly.
“Headmaster, I must admit I have no memory of it all.” Holmes said.
“And why would that be?”
“I was high.” Holmes admitted, looking at the floor in shame. McGonagall and Snape both looked shocked, but Dumbledore remained calm, as if he had already known that.
“And why would that be, you were on a sick day.”
“I had a rough night the night before, and I was depressed, so I turned to drugs and I know now I shouldn’t have, because now I landed John in the Headmaster’s office and he clearly doesn’t deserve it.”
“What had happened the night before?” Dumbledore asked. Now both John and Holmes were looking at the floor, John hoped that Holmes had enough sense not to tell the whole story.
“It’s personal.” Holmes said at last.
“I’m sorry Professor, but this is a very serious matter, and we need to know all of the details.” Dumbledore said, and he did sound truly sorry. Holmes took a deep breath, deciding what he would say.
“Last night John came to me after dinner, asking for help to make Amortentia for the Yule Ball. You all know what had happened before the memory charm,” Holmes started.
“I don’t.” Snape interrupted.  Four heads glared at him, and Dumbledore looked at Holmes to finish his story. John was glad Snape was being ignored, but he wished they hadn’t been talking about this.
“So I assumed he figured out his past, and it was to be used for me. When the potion was done, I, um, tried to kiss him, and he ran back and I fell apart, admitting everything and practically losing my mind. So I couldn’t bear to see him the next day, and I was stuck in depression, knowing nothing will ever happen again.” Holmes admitted. McGonagall was looking at him with sadness, her eyes swimming. Snape looked at the two with shock; even though he obviously guessed what was going on he had never actually had proof that the two had gotten together.
“I assumed then that Mr. Watson has figured out some of the parts of his memory then.” Dumbledore said.
“Now I do ya.” John agreed. Snape’s shock had gone and now he looked mad again, John was convinced he’d use this to try to frame John for cheating.
“And what’s your side of the story?” Dumbledore asked. John told him the story, how he had snuck in because he was worried, how Holmes wasn’t moving, and the insanity afterwards. When he was done, Holmes had lost interest, picking at loose threads on his chair, but the three other Staff members had been listening well, McGonagall’s attempt to make it look like she wasn’t happy had failed, and John could swear he saw a slight smile on her face. Dumbledore didn’t show any emotion, but John knew he had absorbed every word he had said, and Snape was looking victorious, as if he was proud for catching them.
“It sounds like neither of you did anything wrong, except Professor Holmes, I will have to confiscate all of your drugs and send you to Madam Pomfrey’s, but Mr. Watson is innocent and you didn’t know what was going on, so you two are both off of the hook.” Dumbledore said with a small smile. John’s worry vaporized, replaced by immediate relief, but Snape looked like Christmas had been canceled.
“Headmaster, if I may, student and professor relationships are strictly against all school rules.” Snape pointed out.
“But they aren’t in a relationship.” Dumbledore said.
“And even if they were, I don’t think it would be much of a problem, Professor Holmes is only a year older than Mr. Watson.” McGonagall said hopefully. Dumbledore nodded a bit, and Snape looked furious, he must have been so proud to crush a happy relationship, even if it wasn’t a relationship, anything to get his assistant professor out of his office.
“You may go.” Dumbledore decided.
“Thank you head master.” John said, nodding at McGonagall, and ignoring Snape. Holmes didn’t say anything as he followed John out of the door and down the griffin’s staircase. They walked in silence, John trying to stay behind Holmes to make sure they didn’t walk side by side. When they got to the entrance hall, John was about to turn to go to the steps when Holmes stopped him.
“John?” He asked. John turned back to look at Holmes, who was standing near the dungeon hallway looking like a guilty kid. His head was down and he had one arm crossed in front of his body, holding on to his other arm. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble.” He muttered.
“It’s okay, it’s all good anyway.” John shrugged.
“And I’m sorry about, you know, all of that.” Holmes said, his voice small, as if he was scared John would hit him or something.
“You didn’t know what you were doing; it’s not your fault.” John assured. Holmes nodded once and started to walk away, slowly, as if he didn’t want to go back yet.
“I read your note.” John called after him. Holmes stopped and turned his head, green eyes looking sad again, which made John’s heart hurt, he didn’t want Holmes to be sad, he deserved a lot better than everything he had.
“Really?” Holmes asked, as if he was surprised John would spare his time to read something.
“Yes, of course I read it, and it was very sweet, it made me cry actually.” John admitted, making Holmes turn completely around.
“Well, I’m glad you liked it, maybe you can write one to Mary.” Holmes said. If John didn’t know him he would’ve thought that was an insult, but he was pretty sure Holmes actually was recommending writing one to Mary.
“Professor, I know that you think I’m some heartless jerk…” John said, thinking of what to say next. He wanted to say he would give him another chance, but he just couldn’t bring himself to, not yet. “But I’m not.” John ended pathetically. John saw hope die in Holmes’s eyes, he wanted to hug him, to promise him he’ll stay with him and everything would be alright, but he couldn’t do that yet, maybe at the Yule Ball. “Goodnight Professor.” John said, and with that he climbed the stairs to Gryffindor tower.
“Goodnight John.” He heard Holmes mutter below him.