Torture Lessons

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So sorry Mr. Watson, but that's not exactly a direct request. You can't come unless I let you in, so I'd think a nice please is in order. Please let me in. I scribbled, sighing at his pure annoyance. Even so, the very handwriting made me calm down a little bit; he was here, I would soon be with him, what else could I want? The light glowed and in a matter of seconds I appeared in what looked like an underground dungeon that had gotten an Extreme Makeover. There were stone walls with ivy growing up them and windows that made the incoming sunlight glow green and murky, as if it were underwater or something. There were black leather couches and dark wooden desks, over all a very rich looking place. A fire was burning in the stone fireplace, the only source of light other than a single oil lamp on the desk. Sherlock was lounging on one of the couches, his head against the back of the couch, his feet on the coffee table and a book in his hands.

"Fancy seeing you here." he muttered, shutting the book slowly and looking up at me with a bored expression.

"Hi." I shrugged, sitting on the opposite couch.

"I didn't know someone could eat dinner so quickly." he sighed.

"Are you disappointed?" I defended, knowing that he wasn't deliberately trying to be mean but definitely coming across as mean.

"No, of course not Mr. Watson, it's always a pleasure having you here." he assured.

"So where are we then? I haven't seen this area of town before." I pointed out, looking around once more.

"Oh, this is the Slytherin Common room, what became my home actually." He said with a hint of pride in his voice.

"It's very nice, kind of creepy, but nice all the same." I decided.

"My thoughts exactly." Sherlock agreed. I tried to imagine this place with people mingling all around, talking, laughing, and doing homework. It was odd to think that this seemingly abandoned castle was also occupied by living people.

"Why haven't I seen anyone? You said there were some people here." I pointed out.

"Oh yes, well, he's quite shy. Maybe there's a little bit of rage, but other than that I'd imagine he's lingering around somewhere."

"Who is he?" I asked curiously, wanting to be prepared for when we might meet. Sherlock just sighed with a crooked smile, and I got the hint, an answer for another time once again. There were so many secrets surrounding this place and the man in front of me.

"Sherlock, why is there only one person wandering around here? Shouldn't you like more than one person?" I pointed out.

"I like more than one person, of course I do, but it just so happens one of them is a filthy traitor and the other one is sitting in front of me." Sherlock pointed out with a small smile.

"A filthy traitor?"

"Oh nothing, stupid." he muttered. There was some silence, filled only by the soft crackling of the fire.

"What are you reading?" I asked, looking at the book on the desk.

"Spell book, nothing special. I don't know why I continually bother torturing myself with magic but there was so much I still hadn't discovered before." Sherlock sighed, drumming his fingers against the hard back cover.

"Can I see?" I asked hopefully. Sherlock handed the book over, and I didn't know if it was intentional or not but our fingers brushed ever so slightly. It was funny how even the smallest of touches could send off a chain reaction, making my cheeks glow red once again. I opened the book, trying to pretend nothing ever happened, which was easy to forget when I saw some of the spells in this book. They were morbid, with sketches and everything. I looked at the first spell and looked up at Sherlock with shock.

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