A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! OMG I'M BACK!!!!! Finally!! lol...So sorry this took so long!!! Lots of drama at work has left me pretty much numb to everything....Literally...There are two whole days I don't remember because I was too stressed to function...Anywho! Here is a PotterLock fic for you all!!! Hope it turned out alright!!!! Enjoy<3
***Also...I posted this question on my wall a few days ago but I don't know how many of you saw it so I'm also gonna ask it here....Would any of you read a JohnStrade fic? I read one on AO3 last week and was really into it...Let me know as I do have an idea for one but won't bother posting it if no one will read it...***
"So, how are things with you?" John groaned, dropping his head against the bar. He was at the pub, having drinks with Mike Stamford, a friend from school.
"How can a muggle with a brain like his, seriously be that stupid?" Mike laughed, clapping a hand on the back of John's shoulder sympathetically.
"That bad, eh?"
"I damn near got caught by the Ministry of Magic last week trying to keep the fucking clot from freezing to death after he followed a suspect into the Thames." John ran his hands over his face, sighing heavily and spinning his mug of Butterbeer in front of him. "I've had to obliterate Greg three times, but Sherlock? Not once." Mike laughed again, nodding in understanding and taking a swig of his own drink. "I blame you for this." John grumbled, glaring at his friend.
"Oi! Don't blame me! I warned you about Sherlock Holmes before I introduced you two. It's not my fault you fell-"
"Sod off." Mike laughed again, a full, happy sound that John couldn't help but smile at.
He had met Mike on the train to Hogwarts his first year there, and they had been mostly inseparable since. He trusted Mike more than anyone, and he knew the other wizard would be able to keep his feelings about his new flatmate secret.
"Did you hear about what happened at Hogwarts? That Potter kid killed old What's-His-Name." John used the conversation to distract himself from thoughts of his muggle flatmate.
John had only got a few steps into the flat later that night before he was being pushed back out the door, Sherlock chattering on about a case.
They arrived on the crime scene, Sherlock bounding out of the cab ahead of John, who rolled his eyes and patiently paid the cabbie before following the other man.
When he stepped onto the crime scene, John felt his blood run cold with terror.
Two men, dressed in sharp suits with green and grey scarves draped over their necks, stood between Sherlock and the body, stopping his muggle friend from investigating. One of the men caught his eye just before everything around them froze, the team of muggle officers and Sherlock frozen in time.
"Captain Watson?"
"Brian? What is going on here? Why is the Ministry at a muggle crime scene?" One of the men, who had served under John's command in the war, stepped around Sherlock, offering John a casual salute as he stopped before him.
"This isn't a muggle crime scene Captain, a Dementor did this." John nearly recoiled in shock at the mention of the dark creature. He had only seen Dementors once before, while delivering a prisoner to Azkaban years ago.
"A Dementor? I thought they were bound to your command?"
"I'm sorry Captain, but that information is-"
