"I don't need to eat, I'm fine!" Sherlock insisted. John just pulled on the neck of his robes, leading him down the stairs like a dog. Some students gave them weird looks and Greg was cracking up a ways behind them.

"We have detention today, and I'm not suffering through it alone because you died of malnutrition." John decided. Sherlock groaned, but walked a bit faster, making John's job a lot easier. Maybe he has taken over as babysitter, he didn't care, he plopped Sherlock down at the Gryffindor table and started loading food onto his plate.

"I don't need that much." Sherlock debated, but John didn't listen, topping everything off with a buttered piece of bread.

"Now eat." John demanded. Sherlock rolled his eyes, but picked up his fork and picked at the baked potato. John sat beside him, eating his fill but making sure Sherlock scraped the last piece of broccoli from his plate. It was actually a lot less painful once he started eating, the worry started to go away with every scowling bite he took. He had another day then, maybe three even, but he could probably live until then. Greg sat in front of them, observing the whole scene while eating his own fill of dinner, smiling and raising his eyebrows at John whenever Sherlock wasn't looking.

"You had to be starving." John pointed out as Sherlock watched him eat a cherry tart.

"I'm never hungry." Sherlock pointed out.

"That's abnormal." John decided.

"It's just who I am I suppose." Sherlock shrugged. John sighed, knowing that was true.

"Are you ready for detention then?" he asked. Sherlock groaned, looking over to the Slytherin table in hopes that Moran and Moriarty were somehow dead with their faces on the table. But they were as lively as ever, talking and making cruel jokes with the gang that followed them around.

"They'll kill both of us." He pointed out.

"McGonagall will be there." John defended, hoping that somehow she would prevent any harm from coming to them.

"Doesn't prevent the aftermath though." Sherlock pointed out.

"I guess we'll just have to knock them out in secret next time." John agreed.

"They'll both be really upset with you mostly, but they'll spare no expense in tormenting me as well."

"I'll do my best to make sure you're safe." John decided, making Sherlock smile shyly. Greg choked on his pudding after John said that, making both John and Sherlock glare at him with annoyance.

"Sorry." Greg muttered, looking away in hopes that they'll finish their conversation.

"We should get going I suppose." John decided, grabbing his bag from under the table and getting to his feet. Sherlock joined him, brushing off spare crumbs from his robes and looking around the Great Hall suspiciously, as if people were watching or something.

"See you Greg!" John called as Sherlock started walking away. Greg mouthed something that looked like kiss him, but John just rolled his eyes and followed Sherlock's retreating back. When they hiked all the way up McGonagall's the door was closed, giving John false hope that maybe she had forgotten about everything. Sherlock sighed, knocking twice on the door, which swung open almost immediately.

"Oh good, Mr. Watson, Mr. Holmes, I was beginning to think you weren't coming." McGonagall said with a slight frown. Moran and Moriarty were already there, Moriarty was sitting in a chair while Moran stood to the side, as if he were his personal guard. They both had evil smiles on their faces, which John and Sherlock returned with death glares.

"I have a feeling this will be a long night." McGonagall muttered. "Come in." She walked over to behind her desk, standing near the window as if they wouldn't stay long. John and Sherlock took a couple of steps in, the tension in the room rising with every glare shared by the pairs of students. John left the door cracked open, so if Jim or Moran made a move they had an easily accessible escape route. Neither of them sat.

"Now, I know you four don't particularly get along, but I will be pairing you up and we will be going down to the classroom, cleaning the desks." McGonagall announced.

"What do you mean, pair up?" John asked nervously, hoping he'd be able to go with Sherlock.

"Mr. Watson with Mr. Moran, and Mr. Holmes with Mr. Moriarty." She cleared up. John's heart sank, not so much for him but for Sherlock, who would have to clean desks side by side with the most evil Slytherin slime to walk the halls of Hogwarts.

"That will provoke conflict; I suggest I be paired with John to protect everyone's safety." Sherlock decided. Jim laughed slightly, knowing full well what could become of a stressful evening.

"I will be overseeing the entire process; I assure the safety of all participants." McGonagall assured in her teacher know it all voice. Sherlock sighed, giving John a sideways glance of nervousness.

"What do you think Seb, sound fun?" Jim laughed, tilting his head over the back of the chair to look up at Moran backwards.

"Not the slightest." Moran decided, sounding way too old to only be in sixth year.

"If we could get moving please, I don't want to be here all night." McGonagall decided, looking a bit uneasy as she walked to the door and lead the four of them down the hall to the classroom. Sherlock and John stayed very close to her, fully aware of Moran and Jim making comments on their every move. John was using every last bit of self-restraint not to knock them both out again, which had only been too satisfying, but under McGonagall's gaze that would be impossible. She unlocked the dark transfiguration classroom with a tap of her wand, walking inside and casting light into the oil lamps and candles.

"There are two buckets with sponges and scrub brushed, the pairs I had arranged earlier shall pick one and start on that side of the room. When you are finished you are free to go." She decided, walking up to sit in her desk and propping a book against a stack of papers. Moran and John walked up to the bucket on the right, while Moriarty lead the way to the other one, with Sherlock walking as far as possible from him. John cautiously took a scrub brush, feeling Moran's glare on him as he went to the first desk and started scrubbing of numerous ink spills and mystery stains. The whole detention was the definition of torture; Moran was about as useful as a rock in this situation, cleaning a total of three and a half desks to John's twenty or so. John could hear Moriarty whispering something to Sherlock the entirety of the detention, not being able to make out words but able to see Sherlock's hurt, saddened, and angry expressions while Moriarty smiled tauntingly. John was very much tempted to walk up and start throwing punches, but Moran watched him with a stone glare, flexing his muscles threateningly whenever John glared too much to the other side of the room. Sherlock, like John, was doing most of the work on his side, scrubbing way too many tables for a shared job. When the gruesome work was finally over the four of them walked out of the classroom, not followed by McGonagall, which worried John a lot.

"That was simply delightful wasn't it Sherly?" Jim laughed, elbowing Sherlock in the stomach with a playful smile.

"Leave him alone." John sighed, more tired by Moriarty constantly trying to pick fights.

"That would only be too hard Johnny boy." Jim sighed. John cringed at his constant use of nicknames. Maybe he thought it was funny, but it definitely wasn't to everyone else on the face of this earth.

"We had such a lovely conversation about you John; I think you and Sherlock have a nice future together." Jim pointed out. "That is, of course, if little Sherly doesn't throw a fit and sprinkle the walls with your brains." Sherlock stopped where he was, clenching his fists and bumping into John. His breathing was heavy, he was starting at Jim with such a glare that it could probably disintegrate on impact.

"What's wrong? You can have your plaything for a little while, but it's only a matter of time before you break it." Jim said with an over exaggerated frown.

"Calm down, he doesn't mean it." John assured, taking Sherlock's hand to try to calm him down. But even that didn't make Sherlock react any differently to Jim's taunting.

"Don't get too close to him John, he kills everyone, Sherrinford learned that the hard way." He pointed out. Now the wall decorations were shaking slightly, Sherlock's arms shaking as well, jamming his eyes tight to try to control the exploding rage about to come forth.

"Sherlock it's okay, come on, let's go back to the common room." John decided, pulling slightly on his hand, but it wouldn't budge.

"Seb I think I made him angry, what are you going to do, Hulk Out?" Jim asked, making Moran laugh evilly. John rubbed his thumb over the back of Sherlock's hand in a pathetic attempt to calm him down, but obviously Moriarty's comments had really put him over the edge. The sword and shield display was rattling against the stone wall, the painting's frames shaking back and forth while their inhabitants looking around with fear.

"John, run!" Sherlock gasped, falling to his knees as the shield display started to crack in half.

"It's okay Sherlock, it's okay, I'm not leaving you." John assured.

"Oh good, you've got a loyal pet there." Jim laughed. John couldn't understand how he saw this all as a joke, not the suffering of a human being and possibly putting the lot of them in danger. Sherlock was clenched into a little ball, John trying to calm him down in any way possible, holding onto his hand and stroking his back like he was some sort of dog. The shield crashed to the ground, ripped completely in half, and the pictures had gashes all over them.

"John!" Sherlock cried.

"Jim, we should get out of here." Moran decided, nervously looking around.

"And miss the show? This is only the beginning!" Jim laughed, but Moran pulled impatiently on his arm.

"We could be in danger." Moran pointed out, and, with an exaggerated sigh, Jim reluctantly gave in.

"Good night you two, and Sherlock, don't be too down on yourself, you're the bomb!" Jim said in farewell, the two of them jogging down the hallway as the closest window burst, spraying the hallway with glass shards, snowflakes, and cold air. John lifted Sherlock's head to face him, the boy's green eyes straining and tearing up, the curls on his forehead sticking with the sweat.

"You need to run John!" he insisted.

"I won't leave you." John assured.

"You need to get Dumbledore, save yourself, please." Sherlock growled, wincing again as another window started to crack. John didn't know what it was, but he definitely felt some type of energy radiating off of Sherlock's body, something not magical or human, something new and something deadly. But John stayed, putting his hand encouragingly on the side of Sherlock's face, staring deep into his eyes.

"You need to control it Sherlock, control it." John insisted.

"I...can't!" Sherlock exclaimed, with another blast of energy the second window shattered.

"Sherlock concentrate on me, come on, look into my eyes, you've got to concentrate." John decided. Sherlock looked him back in the eyes, so full of pain and anger it almost didn't look like the Ravenclaw John knew. "Think about that night, think of when you played the violin, in that classroom on the sixth floor." John said. The painting cracked and fell into the growing pile of debris on the floor, Sherlock's eyes only got wilder. "Sherlock come on, that song, the moonlight, when I kissed you, focus on that, the happiness, the love of that night, come on!" John insisted, brushing that tear of struggle that now rolled down Sherlock's cheek away with his thumb.

"Watson get away from him!" McGonagall's shrill, desperate voice called. John ignored her.

"And Hogsmeade, dancing together in the bathroom during the Halloween dance, focus on that." John said.

"Watson come here now!" McGonagall demanded.

"John, go!" Sherlock demanded as the iron holding the torches started to bend.

"You need to focus on happy thoughts, you're the most brilliant person I know, don't let them get to you!" John assured. He felt someone pulling him away from Sherlock, who hunched down once again into a ball and shook violently. John didn't resist, but he didn't want to leave Sherlock so helpless.

"Watson, go get Dumbledore now!" McGonagall demanded. John nodded, taking one last look at Sherlock and sprinting down the corridor to the Head Master's office. Thankfully it was only one floor above, running to the stone griffin who guarded the stairs.

"I need to see Dumbledore, it's an emergency!" John gasped at the stone. It seemed to take those words into account, springing to life and revealing the staircase. John jumped up the steps three at a time, not even bothering to knock, throwing open the wooden door into the study. The Headmaster was writing something at his desk, throwing his silver head up in surprise.

"Professor there's an emergency, Sherlock is breaking down!" John exclaimed. That was all Dumbledore had to hear, abandoning whatever he was writing and jumping to his feet.