Methods Beyond Magic

Jealous Boyfriend Senses Are Tingling

    When Sherlock woke up, he heard the soft cooing of Billy, asleep in his cage, and the gentle songs of the remaining birds that had were particularly stubborn about having to travel North for the winter. The sun was shining although there was a slight cool breeze drifting through the window that Sherlock had left open, obviously that had Billy's method for getting into the room. Sherlock sighed, smashing his head in his pillows and groaning about having to face another dreadful day. Honestly the teaching was great, but he had just dug himself into a massive hole with Victor, but the problem was he had a ladder in his little metaphor, but was too guilty to use it. He should've never kissed him that night, as much as he told himself that it was perfect, Victor was the boy of his dreams, it just wasn't true. Honestly Sherlock doubted his motives that night. He seemed to suddenly be madly in love with Victor for some reason, maybe it was the hour, maybe it was the frustrating day he had, or maybe he was so relieved to know their 'friendship' was still alive that he panicked, he wanted to give Victor what he wanted so that he wouldn't lose one of the only friends that he had here. Sherlock rolled out of bed and pulled on his robes, staring blankly at himself in the mirror and contemplating his motives for even being conscious when he could asleep, snuggled up in the warmth of his blankets and pillows. But nevertheless, five minutes later he trudged down to the Great Hall for breakfast, joining the crowds of students descending from their common rooms.
"Sherlock, hey!" John called from above.
"What floor do you even live on?" Sherlock asked.
"Third, why?" John asked, as if that was a really weird question.
"Nothing, just wondering how you sneak up on me so well on the staircases." Sherlock admitted.
"Well, you see, I'm a part time ninja." John pointed out.
"I'm going to nod and pretend I know what that means." Sherlock agreed.
"Oh come on, you don't know what a ninja is? Wear black masks, sneak around, do Kung Fu?" John insisted.
"Sounds like another weird muggle tradition." Sherlock muttered.
"Ya, I guess it is." John agreed.
"So, you've got another day of cleaning ahead." Sherlock decided.
"And you have another day of teaching." John agreed.
"So neither of us have it off too well?" Sherlock sighed.
"No, I suppose not. But you seem really mellow these days, are you alright?" John asked.
"I'm always mellow." Sherlock snapped.
"No, you're always bitter, these past couple of days you've been sad, as if something is getting you down." John decided.
"Well, I don't know, maybe the joy of being back to the castle has worn off, and what's left is the workload and the annoying kids." Sherlock guessed.
"If you think they're annoying here, you should've been to muggle school." John pointed out.
"Why, is it that bad?" Sherlock asked.
"I went to public school, so you've basically got the kids who can't seem to find belts, and the kids who literally smoke marijuana in the bathrooms, the kids that come to school just so they can show off all the bruises they earned while crashing their dirt bike into a tree, it's a treat let me tell you." John sighed.
"At least there you can define yourself. Over here it's based entirely off of blood." Sherlock pointed out.
"Yes, well, you can always lie about your blood." John shrugged.
"I suppose so, but it's the last name that usually gives it away." Sherlock pointed out.
"Yes well, blood doesn't seem to be all. I mean, look how much of a failure I managed to turn out to be, and I've got half blood." John shrugged.
"Don't say that, you're not a failure." Sherlock snapped. John just rolled his eyes, obviously not convinced.
"Ya, alright Sherlock, I'll see you later." He sighed, drifting off to his end of the staff table.
"Hey, John, wait!" Sherlock called, jogging to catch up and grabbing his arm. A couple of girls from the Hufflepuff table started to whisper to each other, so Sherlock let him go and dropped his voice to a whisper.
"Want to have lunch with me today, out under the trees?" Sherlock offered. John's face broke into a smile, and he nodded.
"You've got nothing with Victor?" he asked rather nervously.
"Not anything I know about, and if he asks I'm just going to have to say no, won't I?" Sherlock pointed out.
"Brilliant. I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages." John insisted.
"Precisely why I'm asking." Sherlock agreed.
"I should probably go; we don't need those rumors again." John muttered, nodding to the Hufflepuff girls that were trying to get their friends' attention over at the Ravenclaw table.
"See you." Sherlock agreed, waving a little bit before walking swiftly up to his seat. For some reason the idea of having lunch with John made the entire day a lot more bearable, like it was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He told himself that was how he felt around Victor, but no. Lunch with Victor would feel more like a weight than a gift, something aggravating that he just had to do. After waffles and bacon, Sherlock walked up to his classroom and checked his schedule. He had (ugh) first years, then third, then seventh with Victor, and fifth last. Even though he wasn't terribly keen on having to see Victor even more, the idea that there was a friendly face in the crowd wasn't too bad. At least he would be able to have someone answer the questions when everyone else was feeling particularly drowsy. The first years all seemed to be tired, thankfully, because when Sherlock started to go on about shield charms and one of the boys in the back fell asleep. That was definitely fun for Sherlock, who demonstrated a new spell for producing water. Unfortunately for the sleeping student, he learned the hard way that the water produced by a spell was usually ice cold. The third years were more attentive, they took diligent notes and paid attention. Then again, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, the two houses Sherlock liked to teach because they were all very obedient. The Slytherins and the Gryffindors were always at each other's throats, and it was miserable to teach them at the same time. Sherlock even had one of the smarter kids in the third year demonstrate a shield charm with him, they had to try to hit him with the leg locker curse and he deflected it, making the charm bounce off of the walls. Unfortunately when the student tried to hit him with a well-placed tickle charm, Sherlock had his guard down, trying to demonstrate proper form. Suddenly he was slain with laughter, nearly falling on the floor giggling before he could finally preform the counter charm. Thankfully that class ended without a trip to the hospital wing, but Sherlock still had a slight giggle now and then which he couldn't seem to get rid of. When the class walked out, all with polite farewells, Sherlock was able to straighten up his robes and walking out the door, a giggle escaping his lips once more. It wasn't too difficult to find John, not when he was towing around that ridiculous bucket.
"Hello John." Sherlock said, leaning against the supply closet as John rooted around in it.
"Sherlock, hey!" he said happily, throwing a bottle of disinfectant spray carelessly into the bucket.
"Just about ready?" Sherlock asked.
"Ya, just give me a moment." John decided. Sherlock smiled, and unintentionally giggled just a little bit.
"What?" John asked.
"What?" Sherlock repeated, trying to look like he hadn't noticed anything abnormal.
"You just laughed at me, what did I do?" John asked. Sherlock giggled again, covering his mouth with his hand.
"Nothing, you didn't do anything." Sherlock assured.
"See, you're giggling at me as I try to guess, what do you know that I don't?" John insisted. Sherlock giggled again, and John looked behind him and checked his shirt for stains.
"I'm sorry, no, it's not..." Sherlock was hit with a full out laugh, having to clutch the wall for support.
"What is going on?" John insisted.
"I was hit with a tickling curse in class, we were doing..." he laughed again, "Shield charms and I had one of the students jinx me."
"Shouldn't you have blocked it?" John insisted.
"I wasn't ready." Sherlock snapped, laughing again.
"Obviously." John laughed. "It makes me feel better that you're not laughing at me though."
"Oh no, I am, just not to your face." Sherlock shrugged. John just glared at him, throwing his mop into the corner and closing the door.
"So, lunch?" he asked.
"Ya, lunch, middle meal, always fun." Sherlock agreed.
"Not always, sometimes you can have a really disappointing lunch." John assured.
"Ya, true, like leftovers." Sherlock decided.
"Or when you have a particularly watery jam and it soaks into the bread and it's a gooey mess." John pointed out.
"Ah yes, that's the worst. My mom always put two layers of peanut butter, one on each piece of bread, which usually prevents the jam from leaking." Sherlock pointed out.
"That's genius. If only I had known that during the days I had to pack my lunch." John sighed.
"In your little firetruck lunch box?" Sherlock asked.
"I only had one of those in elementary school." John defended.
"Did you upgrade to a cop car?" Sherlock laughed, and John pushed him a little bit, so that he almost swerved into a suit of armor.
"Well, this lunch shouldn't be too bad, I mean, we'll be outside, and I'll be eating with you." John shrugged.
"Aw, does my very presence lighten up your day?" Sherlock asked with a smile.
"When you're as lonely as me you appreciate the dorks that take time out of their day to spend time with you." John shrugged.
"So I'm a dork now?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes, you are." John agreed.
"Well, for the record, so are you." Sherlock decided. John just rolled his eyes, leading the way down the stairs to the Great Hall. They went up to the staff table, wrapping some sandwiches in napkins and grabbing some apples and chips and stuff for their little picnic. So they walked along the tables to the doors, just about to be home free when a familiar Slytherin came walking down the stairs.
"Sherlock, Mr. Watson, funny seeing you here." Victor muttered, a smile on his face but his voice cold.
"Yes, well, we were just going to have lunch." John agreed, holding up the sandwiches for proof.
"I see that, yes." Victor agreed, his eyes scanning the food in Sherlock's hand as well. He looked very disapproving, his jealous boyfriend senses tingling.
"Sorry Victor, but I haven't seen John in ages, thought we could use a little bit of catching up time." Sherlock pointed out.
"You saw him last night." Victor pointed out.
"Only for a short while." Sherlock shrugged.
"Well then, I'm not going to ruin your little get together, I'll be on my way." Victor decided, holding up his hands innocently and walking away with a smile.
"Bye Sherlock." He added, lingering by the doors to the Great Hall.
"Bye Victor." Sherlock agreed with a smile, and with that he walked down to the large beech tree on the grounds. They sat down, leaning against the trunk and sitting rather close together, so that they didn't have to talk around the trunk.