"Well that's brilliant, an innocent walk turning into a trip to McGonagall's." John groaned. Sherlock nodded, keeping up the quick pace beside John as they walked back to the Gryffindor common room. he didn't know whether to be angry at Moran and Moriarty or happy that he was able to finally serve them the justice they so desperately needed.

"I'm sorry for getting you in all that." Sherlock muttered.

"It's not your fault; they were the one that started everything." John pointed out. Sherlock nodded silently, but when John looked away he could feel Sherlock's eyes on him. By now he was used to this though, it had been creepy in the beginning but now it was kind of normal. An adoring spotlight on his every move, what could go wrong with that?

"PIG SNOUT ." John muttered to the Fat Lady, who lazily swung the portrait open. The common room was a lot more filled than it was an hour ago, a lot of the Hogsmeade students back from the town, covered in snow yet warmed with good spirits.

"You've got a bruise forming." John pointed out as they sat in the back corner chairs, a space that was darker and more secluded than the rest of the common room. Sherlock touched his cheek, the first obvious thing to do when you have a bruise, poke it to see how much it hurt. He didn't wince or anything like John had when he was punched, he just frowned and leaned hand on the other side of his cheek.

"Thank you for, you know, that." Sherlock said, sounding as if he was forcing himself to say those words.

"Anytime Sherlock, you don't deserve that torment." John assured, wanting to hug him or at least hold his hand. But Sherlock was on shut down mode now, if there was anything between them in that moment before the snowball hit it was long gone and perhaps wouldn't return until another four months. Everything that would be said or done between them would be awkward, with a lot of blushing and looking away.

"It's not like he's got his facts wrong. I don't know how he could've found out about that, but now that he knows it'll circulate." Sherlock sighed.

"Then we'll defend it, to the death; convince everyone that Moriarty is just making things up like he always does." John decided.

"That's the thing though, Moriarty doesn't just make stuff up, he researches and he makes sure he's got all the facts straight, I hate him but he's not wrong." Sherlock insisted.

"I won't let anyone get to you, no matter what they say it wasn't your fault and you're worth at least 10 of everyone in this bloody school." John assured. As predicted, Sherlock just smiled and turned his head slightly, not wanting to talk about it or just scared to be recognized as anything positive. He needed serious self-confidence therapy sessions.

"I'm glad you feel that way." Sherlock shrugged. "Oh, I guess you'd want your scarf back." He pulled the knot undone with one simple tug, handing the scarf over. There were still half melted snow crystals hitch hiking on the gold and maroon fabric, but other than that the scarf was unharmed. John had the hat in his hand from where he had retrieved it in the snow, and set the two on the table, using them as I pillow and staring at the wall.

"I'm tired." He sighed.

"It's been a long day." Sherlock pointed out.

"No, it's that type of tiredness that is from within, my soul is tired, if you know what I mean. This Umbridge stuff, the worry, the rebellion, being all secretive, quidditch, I've had enough." John decided. Sherlock hummed in agreement, but John couldn't see his facial expression. If he was smiling, rolling his eyes, or groaning in annoyance John would never know.

"Maybe you should just get to bed early." Sherlock shrugged.

"I'm tired until ten, and then I want to stay up for another three hours." John pointed out, the sorrowful truth.

"Sleep in."

"I don't like that; it makes me feel like I'm wasting the day."

"You don't make this easy do you?" Sherlock said, maybe a tone of amusement in his voice. John smiled, not knowing nor caring if Sherlock could actually see him. John could hear the portrait open, to both of their disappointment.

"Hello sleepy head." Greg said with a laugh, pressing John's head into the table jokingly.

"Hey Greg." John said.

"Hello brother dear." Dang it.

"Where have you two been all this time, we were looking for you." Greg pointed out, pulling up a chair. John sat back up, groggily rubbing his eyes and yawning. Sherlock was frowning once again as Mycroft jammed a chair between him and Greg, sitting closer to Greg but still apparently overlapping with Sherlock's personal bubble space.

"We got in a fight, landed in McGonagall's office." John yawned.

"What happened?" Mycroft asked.

"We were just walking outside when Moriarty and Moran attacked us. John took care of it though, knocked both of them out with some spells. Unfortunately McGonagall found us before we could get out of there." Sherlock sighed.

"You knocked Sebastian and Moriarty out? Brilliant!" Greg decided, giving John a very enthusiastic high five.

"It was nothing." John shrugged.

"Well thank you John, for protecting Sherlock." Mycroft said with a smile aimed at John. John returned the smile, that had been one of the more positive things Mycroft had ever said to him.

"So that's all you two did, pick fights with the Slytherins?" Greg asked.

"No, we took a walk, and we ate more Bertie Bott's." John defended.

"So nothing?"

"Yep." John admitted with a small smile.

"I think we should get going though, I believe our parent's owl arrived with the news and we'd like to send a reply. Good Afternoon." Mycroft decided, getting up in his chair suddenly and pulling Sherlock along.

"We can do that tonight!" Sherlock defended.

"The sooner the better, we'll see them tomorrow and tonight, come on." Mycroft sighed. Sherlock cast a pleading look towards John, but John didn't want anything to do with these rival siblings. In the end the two Ravenclaws walked out of the door, Sherlock pouting and Mycroft looking determined to drag him away, as if something important had popped up.

"Okay, John, I'm sorry, but you and Sherlock have absolutely positively got to get together." Greg decided. John faked a laugh, even though it was a kind of sad laugh. He's tried, don't you worry Greg.

"I think you have your head screwed on wrong." John defended.

"Oh come on John, wake up! Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

"Yes, and it's creepy."

"He totally likes you, just give him a chance!" Greg sighed.

"He only looks at me because he's never had a real friend, and that's all we'll ever be so drop it. I don't want a lovey dovey relationship like you and Mycroft." John pointed out. At the mention of Mycroft Greg smiled with a sort of annoying, love sick grin.

"John I love him, like seriously. This isn't something that goes on for a month and then we never see each other, I'd kill myself if I had to lose him, but he really is perfect." Greg decided. John nodded, wishing he could say the same about Sherlock. Yes, Sherlock was absolutely perfect, even though he had some flaws of course, and John would really hate to lose him, but it was kind of hard to say you love someone after one kiss. Yes, every time John thinks about him his heart flips, and every time he's in Sherlock's presence it feels like he was floating or something, but that wasn't love, that was just liking, a lot.

"That's really great Greg, I'm happy you've found your other half." John decided, and he was happy. Mycroft could be annoying sometimes, but overall he was better than any whiney girl in this world.

"It would be even better if you two got together though, just saying." Greg pointed out.

"He's never had a crush in his life, he's still living by that rule, Caring is not an Advantage or something. I'm sure they've got it knitted on a pillow somewhere at home."

"He only says that to throw you off his tail, he's smart remember, and he's pretty much got hearts in his eyes when he looks at you."

"That's crazy." John decided, rolling his eyes with annoyance. But was it true, did Sherlock look at him like that when he wasn't looking? That would boost John's self-esteem a whole lot.

"It's the facts." Greg shrugged.

"Now you sound like Mycroft." John pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you."

"Not really a complement." John sighed.

"Oh so now you don't like Mycroft?"

"I like him, I never said I didn't."

"Well it sounded like you were trying to insult me..." Greg pointed out, jumping right into offensive mode.

"I'm just saying that no one likes the facts, no matter who says them." John cleared up. Greg nodded, but he still looked suspicious.

"What were you two even doing all day?" Greg asked after a moment of silence.

"Just what I told you, it may shock you but we weren't snogging the whole time." John pointed out.

"I never said you were." Greg sighed. They were obviously both tire and easily irritated at the moment, but John wasn't lying. He had tried to kiss Sherlock, but there had been complications in the form of a snowball.

"I'm tired." Greg decided with a large yawn. John nodded in agreement, putting his head back on the scarf, trying to maybe catch some more sleep.

"I slept on a chair last night, imagine how I feel." He pointed out.

"And you came to wake me up at like, six." Greg agreed.

"Poor soul. That's when we normally get up anyway!" John defended.

"So that mean's it's way too early to get up."

"Aren't you glad you did though?" John asked.

"I guess so." Greg admitted.

"When's dinner?" John asked.

"Not for another half hour."

"Good. I think I'm going to take a nap here, wake me up when I need to go eat." John decided.

"That's stupid, just go to bed earlier!" Greg pointed out. John rolled his eyes, but felt as if there were a crushing weight on top of him, pushing him into the table and making him fall asleep. Before he knew it, his eyes were shutting and his mind was slowing down. He really hoped one of them would wake him up, but at the moment that was the least of his problems.

                John was walking down the grounds, his bag slung over his shoulder, hand in hand with Sherlock. The snow was gone and the sun was beaming brightly down, reflecting off of the lake and making the scenery quite gorgeous.

"Sherlock, I think it's time that I told you something." John decided, the words coming from his mouth without his control. Sherlock nodded, keeping up the pace but watching John with interest.

"All these months, since the kiss, I've been desperately trying to repeat that moment; I really do love you Sherlock." John said. The sleeping John would've slapped himself for ever saying something so sappy and stupid, but the dream John smiled hopefully up at his friend/boyfriend/who even knows. Sherlock stopped in his tracks, turning to face John and taking his other hand as well. John smiled into his green eyes, sparkling in the sunlight and making everything seem a heck of a lot better.

"I guess I should tell you now as well, John," his eyes went from green to black, "I hate you!" John's dream heart dropped from his chest, but Sherlock didn't release him. Instead of lightly taking his hand, Sherlock was holding John by his wrists. Sherlock's skin was peeling open from the face down, revealing fires from within his very skull, burning out and creeping down his arms to John's. John screamed, wiggled, even tried to kick the boy in front of him, but nothing helped, it was as if he wasn't even human.

"Sherlock let me go, don't do this!" John pleaded.

"Don't believe every rubbish thing I tell you, Greg left you, Mary left you, now I'm leaving you, but I was never really here." Sherlock growled in a nonhuman voice, deep and loud, almost God like. The fires rolled onto John's arms and burned like poison, making him scream and writhe in agony. Sherlock just held his firm as he dropped to his knees, not being able to move his arms as the flames reached his head.

"Sherlock please!" John begged. But Sherlock just laughed as the flames creeped up his neck... "John, wake up...." said a voice above him. John jumped off of the table, breathing heavily and trying to tell himself Sherlock wasn't a fire god in front of him. Instead it was Greg, looking on him like he was insane.