W.S.S.H.

The Promise of Love

I appeared in the library once again, Sherlock was browsing the shelves lazily. I couldn't help myself, I don't know what had changed in me to be so excited to see him, but I ran at him and gave him a huge hug. Sherlock stumbled back, obviously very surprised at being greeted like this, but I didn't care. I breathed in his beautiful scent, holding him close to me so that nothing could break us apart. This was what I had been dreaming of since I had to leave him, nothing on my earth could ever compare to this beautiful feeling.

"Whoa, what are you so excited about?" he asked with a small laugh.

"I missed you so much." I admitted, pulling away but still standing relatively close. I looked at him, the details of his face, the green eyes, the high cheekbones, the very kissable cupid bow lips that called to me.

"I see that you have." He decided. "What makes me so desirable then?" he asked, as if he already didn't know.

"The list would be shorter if I listed negatives." I pointed out.

"Well I can start you off with that then, my criminal record as one..." Sherlock decided, and he was definitely prepared to go on.

"Shut up Sherlock." I begged. Sherlock just smiled, making my heart glow.

"So you really missed me then?" he asked, as if that was a shock.

"All day, I couldn't get you out of my head." I admitted.

"That's quite kind of you." Sherlock decided. "So what do you want to do, now that we're happily reunited?" Could kiss you be an option this time?

"I don't know." I shrugged.

"There's the Mr. Watson I know." Sherlock laughed. I just frowned, but I didn't mean it, in fact it was like my entire body would collapse of happiness when his smile radiated light brighter than the sun.

"Let's take a walk then." Sherlock decided.

"Where?" I asked curiously.

"Outside, unless you have a better idea. We can see the Whomping Willow, unfortunately Hogsmeade isn't in the package deal so we shouldn't make any plans to go to Zonko's."

"Hogsmeade?"

"It's the Wizarding Village, only pure Wizarding village in the world in fact, and it's right next to the school."

"That sounds pretty cool." I agreed.

"Sorry that I couldn't include it, this book only has so much space." Sherlock sighed; pushing the book he had previously pulled out back into the shelf and extended an elbow for me to join him. I knew he was probably expecting me to walk by myself, avoid him at all costs because I was afraid he was a serial killer, but in reality I saw him, only him, for who he was and that understanding made him, if possible, even more desirable. Not that murderous psychopath was on my list of desired traits. But I hooked arms with him, wanting to lean on him and put my head on his shoulder, but before I could he started walking down the shelves, leading us out of the library and out into the halls. It was empty once more; the only sounds were our shoes clicking against the stone floors. As we walked I realized I was getting more familiar with these maze like halls, I knew where the stairs were, I knew what floor the library was on, and every time we passed the Fat Lady I made sure to smile tauntingly at her. The paintings acted as guides really, markers to go this way and that. I was sure by now Sherlock knows every single painting in the place; he had more than a couple of years with nothing to do here. We finally made it down to the Great Hall, where Sherlock lead me down the stairs and through the massive oak doors. It was beautiful, the leaves on the forest were starting to change, reds and golds through the sea of green, but the grass remained green and the birds were still chirping. It was insane to think that I wasn't standing in a real place, instead it was a memory, Sherlock's memory, stuffed into a book. Everything worked perfectly, the seasons, day and night, but the real Hogwarts was stuffed with kids and staff when it was just me, Sherlock, and Moriarty, who was off hiding probably. I felt bad for the kid, to suffer such a horrible death only to be trapped here with his love sick murderer. I didn't want to ask Sherlock if he still had feelings for Jim, I didn't want to open a wound that had long since healed. I doubted he did, under all of that rage because of Moran, but I was willing to guess a love that strong didn't just die off. Sherlock didn't seem to want to talk about the events of last night, and why would he? He seemed to be playing it off as if I still thought he was a person somewhere and I was teleporting to this castle every day.