“Hey, thanks for that mate, saved my seeker.” James said, extending a hand for Sherlock, who just stepped back with a worried look. “Okay then…” James muttered, dropping his hand and examining the bruise on John’s cheek.
“I’m fine, really.” John lied.
“Get it checked out, just for good measure okay?” he decided. John nodded, but had no intention of making a big fuss over it. James clapped John on the back, smiling widely at him like they were best friends.
“You did great out there, we would never had a chance if we didn’t have you.” He assured, and with that he walked off to the Gryffindor locker rooms with a bit of a spring in his step. Now it was just Sherlock and John, both twisting their hands awkwardly and kicking at the grass near their feet.
“Well, uh, thanks I guess.” John muttered. Sherlock just nodded, as if there was a lump in his throat, preventing him from saying anything. John held the snitch in his two fingers, obviously all the commotion had been enough to make everyone forget about it. It’s wings unfolded, trying to escape but John had a good grip on it.
“Why did Umbridge take Greg away?” Sherlock asked after a little bit.
“Apparently he’s breaking the rules with Mycroft, even though we both know he isn’t.”  John sighed. Sherlock nodded, looking back at the ground.
“They haven’t even been together for a while, as far as we know at least, she has no proof.” John pointed out again, wanting to make his concerns clear. This whole thing was complete paranoia; she just wanted to feel in control of the whole thing. John pocketed the snitch, having no intentions of giving it back now, and twirled his broom in his hand.
“Do you want a ride back to the castle?” he asked with a smile. Sherlock shook his head, the color draining from his face at the thought of being in the air again.
“No, no thank you.” He said quickly. John hopped on the broom and kicked off, soaring above while Sherlock watched in awe. He did a couple of loops and spins, just showing off of course. Sherlock was watching in both amazement and terror while John dove straight down towards him, pulling up short of the ground and hovering just above Sherlock’s head, so he had to look up to see him.
“Are you sure, it’ll be fun.” He laughed.
“Ya, it was so much fun last time.” Sherlock pointed out, crossing his arms as if John wanted to grab him and pull him on with him.
“I was joking Sherlock, but I should probably go get changed. You’re welcome to join us in the common room though, I’m sure there will be a little party or something. You know the password right?”
“Uh, pig snout isn’t it?” Sherlock guessed.
“Yep.” John agreed.
“Then ya, I’ll maybe stop by for a little bit.” Sherlock shrugged.
“As if you’ve anything better to do. See ya!” John called, and with that he shot off through the air, doing a flip over top of the stadium wall and soaring back to the castle.

                When he got back to the common room there was another explosion of clapping and cheering, he was nearly tackled by an over excited Greg, who was jumping up and down and scream cheering. John pushed him off, avoiding the hug he tried to give.
“Chill mate, god!” John said with a laugh.
“I heard Slytherin didn’t even have time to score!” he exclaimed.
“Not that I know of, what happened with you?” John asked.
“Never mind that, what happened to you!?” Greg exclaimed, the smile on his face lessening as he noticed the bruise on John’s cheek.
“It was a fight, their seeker attacked me because I faked him out and then Sherlock did something, made him go all stiff.”
“Oh come on, you have to admit that guy has got something for you.” Greg pointed out in a hush whisper.
“Well, if he did he hasn’t expressed it yet.” John lied. If only Greg knew. But he couldn’t tell him, Umbridge was still on his tail and if she found out about Sherlock and John as well she could probably get all four expelled.
“Then you go for it!” Greg hissed.
“Shut up Greg.” John muttered as more people came over to clap him on the back and celebrate. As he had guessed there was a party in his honor, the kids had stolen all this food and drink from the kitchens somehow and there was a feast spread about the desks. Someone had a wizarding radio, blasting some loud song that John had never heard before. One of the beaters tied a Gryffindor banner around John’s shoulders like a cape, making him jump off the furniture and pretend to be Superman or something. John thought it was the most absurd thing he’s ever done, but it was quite funny when he jumped off of the armchair and onto his brook, hovering above everyone else while Greg sang loud superhero music. It was quite a fun party, and when John was opening his fourth bottle of butterbeer the portrait hole opened, Sherlock walking in nervously and scanning the crowd for wherever John was. No one seemed to notice him except John. Greg was off talking to James about fun ways to curse Umbridge and mostly everyone was either talking to someone else or dancing to the music. John walked over to Sherlock, who was standing near the fireplace and looking nervous. He had changed his robes now, his hair was brushed so that not a curl was out of place and his cheekbones seemed even more prominent. John didn’t want to think that he had done all of that just for him, but the idea made sense unfortunately.
“Hey!” John called loudly over the noise, making Sherlock jump and bump his head on the mantle.
“Hey.” He muttered, rubbing the side of his with a frown.
“Glad you could make it, such a boring party, all we need is you to liven it up.” John joked, taking a large swig of butterbeer with a goofy smile. Sherlock looked confused, they both knew he wasn’t a party person, but he didn’t seem to get the joke.
“It’s very loud in here.” Sherlock said obviously.
“Well we’re all very excited.” John shrugged.
“Is that a cape?” he asked, noticing the banner around John’s neck.
“Oh,” he spun to make it billow behind him dramatically, “not exactly my idea.” Sherlock nodded, as if not exactly sure what to say.
“Well, I guess you deserved it.”  he shrugged.
“I guess I did.” John agreed.
“Well at least you’re modest.” Sherlock said with a small smile, making John’s heart do a little flip flop thing in his chest.
“Like you don’t constantly brag about your intellect.” John defended, taking another sip of the butterbeer.
“I only do that to people I don’t like.”
“And your dancing skills.”
“I think you’re the only one who really knows about that.”
“And violin.”
“Everyone hates me for that in the common room anyway. Apparently Bach at one o’clock in the morning isn’t as peaceful as it should be.” Sherlock defended, making John hold his hands up in surrender.
“Whatever. Want a butterbeer?” he asked, gesturing to the table of stolen food.
“Uh, sure, I guess.” Sherlock shrugged. John ran over to the table, making Sherlock wait there and handed him the bottle. Sherlock struggled with the cap until finally he just blew it off with a tap of his wand, sipping the drink cautiously.
“Wow, that’s really good.” He decided, taking another sip.
“You’ve never had butterbeer?” John asked with amazement.
“No, should I have?”
“It’s all over Hogsmeade!” John pointed out.
“Never been.” Sherlock shrugged.
“What!? Why in the world not?”
“It seems quite dull to be honest.” Sherlock shrugged.
“Next Hogsmeade visit you’re going.” John decided with a smile.
“I guess I’ll decide if I want to really.”
“No choice, sorry.” John pointed out, sipping his own butterbeer. There was some silence, which was comfortable enough for John, but Sherlock looked nervous, as usual really. It seemed to John that ever since the kiss it was as if Sherlock and he had just met, everything they did together, running from Filch, hiding from spiders, fighting off Anderson, that had happened to two completely different people. That Sherlock had been shy but confident, with a sly smile that made people want to start fights, this Sherlock tiptoed around, not wanting to be seen and when he was he barely said anything close to interesting. Greg came bouncing over, holding a butterbeer and a biscuit, looking very peppy to say the least.
“Hey you two! Is Mycroft here?” he asked Sherlock expectantly.
“I didn’t see him after the game.” Sherlock muttered.
“Where would he go?” John asked nervously.
“You don’t think Umbridge got to him do you?” Greg asked nervously.
“I don’t know, she wasn’t at the fight either, I’d expect if she was there she’d love to stick her nose in any trouble she could find.” John guessed. Greg’s smile disappeared; apparently his party mood was short lived.
“What do we do?” he asked nervously.
“What are we supposed to do, he can handle himself.” Sherlock pointed out with a bored voice.
“Mycroft is your brother and you’ll let him rot up in Umbridge’s office carving I will not love into his own hand?” Greg defended. Sherlock rolled his eyes and John just stood back awkwardly.
“So you want us to go on a rescue mission and steal him back from Umbridge? He could be in the bloody library for all we know.” Sherlock said.
“Guys, just calm down, I don’t need any more fight today.” John interfered. Greg took a deep breath, crumbling his biscuit in his fingers without realizing it. Sherlock was leaning on the stone wall of the fireplace, looking a bit guilty. “Now I’m sure Mycroft is fine, Umbridge wouldn’t do anything to hurt him more than that pen thing, so he’ll be fine.”
“Oh who knows what she’ll do! I’m sure she’s going to slip him truth serum or something, and I doubt she’ll shy away from the Cruciatus curse!” Greg defended.
“If you want to go check on him you can, but you’ll be missing all this…fun.” Sherlock said, looking around the room. Greg looked like he was about ready to punch someone, most preferably Sherlock, and John was wondering what had gotten into both of them. Mycroft had to be fine, he was the Head Boy, but still there was a little bit of doubt in his mind. Umbridge didn’t seem the type to play fair or respect titles, John was sure that the Head Boy would suffer the same consequences as an Azkaban prisoner in her mind.
“I’ll go check.” John decided. As soon as he said it, both boys were demanding that he didn’t. Greg insisted that he should go himself and Sherlock was telling him that it was too dangerous. But John had made up his mind, if those two wanted to fight each other so be it, but both of them would mess up the whole operation if they went to make sure he was okay. Greg would barge in and try to be the hero, breaking down the enemy’s door to save the one he loved and get both of them killed instead. Sherlock wouldn’t care much if Mycroft was dead on the floor, and he’d probably just walk away and say he needs to do transfiguration homework. So John was obviously the man for the job, it only made sense.
“John come on, you’re not going alone, what if she catches you? You know everything about, uh, them, she’s got truth serum, I’m sure of it.” Sherlock pointed out. He was glaring at John, as if he already didn’t figure that out. Not only was Sherlock scared for John’s wellbeing, he was scared for himself as well. If Umbridge found out about them as well…
“I’ll be fine.” John assured, making up his mind and handing his butterbeer to Sherlock, their fingers brushing ever so slightly. John could see the shiver that ran up Sherlock’s arm, making the boy blush a little bit and look away.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.” he muttered.
“I’ll be fine.” John repeated, starting to walk away to the portrait hole.
“John come on, if she finds you spying you’ll get a detention anyway!” Greg pointed out.
“Oh that’s the least of our worries is it not?” John sighed, pushing the door open. It was just about to close when Sherlock and Greg both opened it back up again, following John out into the hallway with determined looks.
“Well then we’re coming too I guess.” Sherlock shrugged. John groaned.
“If you two mess this up I swear to god I will kill you.” John’s eyes lingered suspiciously on Greg, who held up his hands defensively.
“Don’t look at me!” he said quickly. John just rolled his eyes, continuing up to the fifth floor, where Umbridge’s classroom/office was. They hid around the corner, listening intently for any sounds of torture or anyone walking through the halls. Thankfully there was no noise as the three heads poked around the corner, staring at the door the lead to the office stood.
“What are we supposed to do now?” Sherlock hissed.
“I don’t know, I guess she forgot to put up the Do not disturb, torture in progress sign.” John muttered sarcastically.
“Should we listen or something?” Greg suggested.
“If he was screaming we would’ve heard it from here.” John decided.
“There could be a charm on the door, blocking out noise.” Sherlock pointed out.
“So we just knock on the door? I’ve got some fake mustaches; maybe she’ll fall for it if we bring pizza.” Greg growled.
“She probably only eats babies.” John pointed out.
“And who would that be?” said a squeaky voice behind them. The three boys whipped around to see Umbridge standing behind them, smiling falsely at them with a clipboard under her arm.