"So, how are things with you?" Sherlock asked, his voice very peppy.
"What in the world is wrong with you Sherlock? You go from clammed up to open book in a couple of minutes." John observed.
"Well, Mycroft isn't here." Sherlock pointed out. John nodded, but he didn't think that made much of a difference, Sherlock sometimes refused to talk to him and Mycroft wasn't around then.
"So, what were you going to tell me before, something about the hospital wing?" John asked.
"Oh, that was nothing." Sherlock shrugged. John didn't believe him at once, because now Sherlock refused to talk again. He was the most complex person John had ever met, and somehow they had become best friends. The saying 'opposites attract' couldn't fit two people better in his opinion. They said goodbye and separated to their separate tables, John sitting alone and Sherlock sitting alone. He was suddenly hungry, and he had almost forgotten about the match the next day, so he started to eat some mashed potatoes and steak. John noticed that Umbridge wasn't present, which he found suspicious, since she had a little meeting to attend right after. Was she preparing the evil quills, or setting up much more wicked contraptions? Dumbledore was sitting there too, eating carelessly, unaware that one of his staff was the devil herself. Greg didn't show up, he and Mycroft must have had gone straight to the office. Sherlock came over to talk to John, practically a way of showing that he was done eating so John should hurry up. Finally when his plate was clean, John followed Sherlock out of the Great Hall.
"So, we've got an hour or so to kill, what do you want to do?" John asked.
"Library?" Sherlock suggested.
"No." John said immediately. Sherlock looked a little bit offended, but he nodded. "How about you demonstrate your violin skills?" Sherlock immediately went red, muttering something John didn't hear.
"I don't think that should be tonight." He said again, clearer this time.
"Oh come on, I've been dying to hear you play, I bet you're brilliant." John pestered.
"Some other time." Sherlock decided.
"Please, for me?" John pleaded, giving him the best puppy dog eyes he had. Sherlock looked at him for a moment, but John could tell a barrier had gone down around him.
"Fine! You're lucky you're so annoying." Sherlock hissed. John smiled guiltily, and followed Sherlock as they picked up the pace to the Ravenclaw common room. Sherlock ran inside for a moment to grab the instrument, so John waited outside with the doorknocker. It kept screaming trivia at him to the point where he was about to scream back when Sherlock finally showed up, a violin shaped black box in his head.
"Same place?" he asked. John nodded, and they walked up to the empty classroom on the sixth floor, the one where they practiced dancing. It seemed like ages ago, when John's hopes of Mary's liking him were high, just to be crushed. But at least something good had come out of it, and that good thing was unlocking the door with a spell and slipping inside before anyone could notice. John followed Sherlock into the darkened classroom, shutting the door behind him with a snap. The oil lamps from last time were long dead, but the candles still had wicks on them, so Sherlock took the job of lighting them all. John sighed, looking around, and suddenly the awkwardness of last time was evident. Once the candles were lit, John took a seat on a dusty desk and watched as Sherlock put his violin in order.
"Good thing I tuned it not long ago." He said as he rubbed a small cloth up and down the strings. John smiled his agreement, happy he didn't have to wait around for thirty minutes listening to single cords. Sherlock got the bow out and put the violin to his shoulder, resting his head on the instrument and putting the bow to the strings.
"Don't laugh at me." he added.
"Why would I do that?" John asked. Sherlock answered with a long, soft note, carrying into a mellow sounding song. It was the most beautiful sound John had ever heard, the music enchanting him. Sherlock had closed his eyes, playing the piece perfectly without music, completely engulfed in playing. The candle light flickered over him, the moonlight silhouetting him, and John's heart beat a million times faster. He sighed, listening, and wondering if the piece was as beautiful as the boy playing it. The song picked up, Sherlock's fingers dancing on the strings, the bow going back and forth so fast it blurred, but not one note was off. John felt as though he was being lifted off of the desk, drawn to Sherlock with a strange feeling in his heart. Sherlock swayed slowly back and forth, as if not realizing he was doing it, forgetting he had an audience. Unfortunately though, the piece stopped and Sherlock came back to his senses, although he took a while to open his eyes. Immediately John broke out into quiet applause, just in case anyone was passing by.
"That was amazing, absolutely amazing!" he exclaimed. Sherlock beamed at him, obviously not having gotten anymore praise than someone telling him to be quiet.
"You think so?" he asked.
"I know so." John assured. Sherlock lower the violin from his shoulder, looking John deep in the eyes, the green taking over John's momentary world.
"John, I, um, I guess I should tell you something." Sherlock said quietly. John blinked, processing what he said a little bit after. His heart immediately jumped, and he felt his feet seeming to get heavier over the desk with nerves.
"Sure, go ahead." John agreed. Sherlock took a deep breath, twisting the violin nervously in his hands.
"I, um, well, this is the third attempt, so I'm half expecting Filtch to come, or someone on a broom come knocking on the windows, but uh, ever since the dance, well, ever since I was tackled by some stupid Gryffindor, I've, uh, had a bit of a change of heart." Sherlock admitted. John smiled softly, encouragingly, he knew what was coming, he could tell by the way Sherlock was acting. "I decided that maybe it's worth it, you're worth it, so, John I like you." He practically spat the last words out, tearing them through his barriers of throwing everyone away. John's heart seemed to burst, even though he knew what Sherlock was going to say, he never expected it so sweet. He had no idea how to answer though; he almost knew he liked Sherlock back, so what now? Sherlock looked absolutely terrified now, probably regretting every word he just said. He was beautiful, he was perfect, so John wondered what on Earth was keeping them apart. He slid off the desk silently, knowing his feet touched the ground but not feeling them hit the wood. Sherlock watched him, his eyes widening in sudden fear, having been able to guess what John's intentions were. John didn't know if he should go through with it, but he could almost hear Sherlock's heart racing, he didn't want to scare him away. But at the moment he didn't care, he was so close, so close. Carefully he took both of Sherlock's hands, holding the violin with him. As soon as they made contact John's limbs felt numb, the candle light flickering over Sherlock's pale skin, his gorgeous green eyes looked absolutely terrified. John stood up on his tiptoes, the only way he could get level...
"It's okay." John muttered, and with that, he pressed his lips to Sherlock's. Immediately it felt like time had stopped, the Earth had stopped spinning; John was transported to a separate world. Sherlock's hands were shaking slightly, and he stood stone still, but his lips were the softest thing John had ever felt. John's heart was pretty much beating out of his chest and into Sherlock's, and he could almost feel Sherlock's heart throbbing against his own. But he knew he couldn't scare him away, he pulled away slowly, giving Sherlock time to breathe and collect himself. Sherlock's face was a mix between scared, surprised, and amazed as he stared at John, blinking almost five times the natural rate and breathing, almost gasping for breath. John stepped away, back to standing at the desk, breathing quickly himself.
"I, um, huh..." Sherlock said, stumbling back and supporting himself with the window pane. John didn't regret it, but now he was slightly worried that Sherlock was going to run from him.
"I'm sorry." John muttered. Sherlock blinked one more time, looking at John now with more surprise.
"Sorry?" he asked, which sounded like more of an exhale, John could barely make out what he was saying. "John that was the best moment of my entire life." Sherlock muttered. John smiled, with relief, with happiness, maybe even a little bit of accomplishment, but Sherlock looked as if he had just finished running a five mile race.
"Oh, good, no, sorry, uh, ignore me." John stuttered. John couldn't get over the fact that he had just kissed Sherlock Holmes, someone he had openly hated, and now here he was, still aweing over how he looked in the candlelight. Oh, how things changed. John tried to look away, not make Sherlock think he was in the spotlight, but he knew Sherlock was staring at him no matter what. John was surprised the violin hadn't fallen, but he seemed to have a firm grip on it. John smiled encouragingly, and Sherlock smiled back, or at least tried to.
"Don't tell Mycroft." Sherlock said quickly.
"Never, don't tell Greg either, the less they know, Umbridge could have them coming in every day, sooner or later their going to spill." John agreed. Sherlock nodded stiffly; obviously relieved they didn't have to tell his brother.
"I should, probably get back now, we don't want to break curfew." Sherlock decided, his voice pitch going from his normal baritone to almost soprano. He was obviously very out of it at the moment. John nodded his agreement, getting off of the table and helping Sherlock by blowing out the candles. He just stood there, watching, thinking. By the time all the candles were out the room was plunged into eerie darkness, the moonlight was the only source of dim light in the room, cascading over Sherlock like he was some type of angel. John opened the door, letting Sherlock and his violin case leave first, then following and locking the door behind him. Sherlock walked abnormally fast, leaving John behind, but he understood. Sherlock was in his own little dream land at the moment, and the last thing John wanted to do was interrupt. When they got to the fourth floor they both waved goodbye and separated to their common rooms.