Amortentia

Chapter 12

Confused, he lifted his head up to see the bludger frozen in midair. He looked down at his wand in amazement, wondering if he had done it accidentally.
“Lucky I knew where to find you.” said a voice above him. He turned around too fast, sprawling out in the grass to see Sherlock standing above him.
“Thanks that would’ve broken my arm.” John said, getting to his feet and brushing off the grass.
“I can honestly tell you that hurt.” Sherlock said with a smile.
“I noticed you were at breakfast today, why the change of heart?”
“Well I wanted to see you of course.” John’s heart thumped harder, Sherlock’s back was to the sun, making him look like some type of angel or something with the orange light silhouetting his tall figure.
“Oh.” John managed.
“I managed to catch some of the practice.”
“How’d I do?” John asked hopefully.
“Great, caught that little, golden thing.” 
“Snitch.”
“Yes, that. The team looked good too, I’m sure you’ll get the cup this year.”
“I hope so; it’s my last year to try.” John sighed, plucking the bludgers out of the air and stuffing them in the crate, along with the quaffle, snitch, and beater’s bats. When he turned back around he noticed Sherlock’s hair was slightly puffier, as if he had ruffled it or something.
“Weekend tomorrow.” John said with a smile.
“Yes, I can’t wait; I can finally get out of that muggy classroom.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know, around, the library, take a walk by the lake, stuff like that. I don’t have any homework.” Sherlock said.
“I do, History of Magic, more goblin rebellions; we need seven inches of parchment.” John groaned.
“That’s the worst class by far, Professor Binns makes even me fall asleep.”
“I know, if it was taught by some other person, the bloody goblin rebellions would be all the school talks about!”
“I guess he just really liked his job.”
“Why is he a ghost?”
“Apparently he woke up to go teach, and left his body behind.” Sherlock said.
“Do you believe that?”
“Yes I do, he must have been so torturously boring in life that he was cursed to this world forever.” Sherlock laughed.
“That’s more of a punishment to us than him.” John said.
“Definitely, I never knew him when he was alive.”
“You must have been in the castle when I was here too, but I don’t recognize you for some reason.”
“Well, I never really went out a lot, I mostly spent my time in the library.” Sherlock shrugged.
“Why did you do that?”
“Whenever I went in public I was bullied a lot, so I didn’t go out unless I really had to.” Sherlock admitted, making John frown.
“Why were you bullied?”
“Because I was smart, really smart, and everyone else couldn’t accept that.”
“I’m sorry.” John said quietly.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I was bullied a little too, for being a muggle born, until Greg came up and defended me, then we became friends.” John admitted. He was embarrassed at his blood status, both of his parents were muggles, and all of his friends were either pure or half blood.
“Don’t worry, I’m muggle born too.” Sherlock said. John looked at him with surprise, he was brilliant, a great wizard, John had expected him to be pureblood.
“So I guess we’re the same then.” John shrugged.
“Apparently.”
“Can I get some help with this trunk; I need to bring it to Madam Hooch’s office.” John asked, taking one handle in one hand and his broom in the other.
“Sure.” Sherlock said, taking the other handle. Together they dragged it up to the castle and through the halls.
“Where is her office?” Sherlock asked.
“Just up here.” John said, they turned the corner and stopped dead in their tracks. Someone was lying on the floor, seemly unconscious. John and Sherlock dropped the trunk and ran up to them. She had long blonde hair and her skin was white with fear, there was what seemed to be blood dripping from her mouth, making John step back in horror.
“Don’t worry its lipstick.” Sherlock assured, making John breathe a sigh of relief. John came closer, checking the girl’s pulse desperately; he hoped to god she wasn’t dead. It was very faint, but there, pumping slightly in her veins.
“She’s alive, unconscious for some reason.” John said.
“I recognize her, she was one of the girls who asked me out before!” Sherlock exclaimed. John looked at him nervously. “I said no.” He added, seeing John’s expression. Her eyes were wide open in fear, but he didn’t see any marks of abuse.
“Someone must have stunned her.” Sherlock said calmly. John was very nervous now, looking around for the possible attacker.
“Why would they have done that?” John asked.
“I have no idea.” Sherlock answered truthfully. He looked up at John and out of the corner of his eye noticed something on the wall. Sherlock’s face drained, now he looked terrified. John turned around, pulling out his wand in case someone was behind him, but instead, there was a note on the wall, written it what looked to be blood. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir, beware.
“What the…” John started.
“John go to the staff room, get McGonagall, get anyone, now!” Sherlock ordered. John obeyed, running off down the hall. The staff room was not far down the hall, and John swung the door open without knocking, making all the Professors jump.
“Watson hasn’t you heard of knocking?” McGonagall asked.
“Down the hall, there’s a girl, she’s unconscious, something about a Chamber of Secrets?” John panted. McGonagall jumped out of her chair along with the rest of the staff.
“Where are they?” She asked, running alongside John to the place where he and Sherlock had found the girl. When they turned the corner McGonagall stopped and looked at the wall with fear. The rest of the staff, John saw Sinistra, Flitwick, Sprout, Filch, and, to his disgust, Snape.
“Oh my god.” Sprout managed, looking at the writing. John had no idea what the Chamber of Secrets was, but it obviously scared the professors, and that couldn’t be good. Snape was the first person to notice the girl on the floor, and Sherlock standing next to her.
“Which one of you did this?” He asked, going to the unconscious figure and checking her pulse.
“How could they have possibly done this, they are just students!” McGonagall exclaimed. Sherlock cleared his throat awkwardly. “Sorry, and an assistant Professor.” McGonagall corrected.
“Watson had just brewed draught of living death the other day; he could’ve given it to her.” Snape suggested.
“Like I’d ever do something like that!” John defended.
“She must be stunned.” Sinistra suggested.
“Aurora please take her up to the hospital wing.” McGonagall commanded. Sinistra sighed, but waved her wand, levitating the unconscious girl and walking down the hall with the figure floating beside her.
“What were you two doing down here in the first place?” Snape asked with suspicion.
“Taking the quidditch trunk back to Madam Hooch’s office.” Sherlock said honestly. Snape’s eyes darted to the trunk and broom lying on the ground.
“You can’t fly, what were you doing with the quidditch trunk?”
“Observing.” Sherlock said truthfully.
“Observing quidditch? You showed no interest in the sport before, why so suddenly?”
“What is so bad about helping John with the quidditch trunk, do you think we used it to knock out that girl because she’s not knocked out she’s paralyzed!”
“And how would you know that?”
“Because I observe.” Sherlock hissed.
“Now is not the time to argue, please tell me exactly what happened.” McGonagall demanded.
“We were walking the trunk down, and we found the girl and the writing, so Sherlock, Professor Holmes, told me to run down to the staff room.” John explained.
“Sherlock?” Sprout asked from the back.
“What does it matter what I call him, there was a paralyzed girl here!” John exclaimed, very annoyed by the constant pestering of the staff.
“Did you see the attacker?” McGonagall asked.
“No, we just found her here.”
“No wounds then?” She asked, looking out the window for a second, looking at the moon.
“No wounds.” John agreed.
“Watson you may go back to your house.” McGonagall said.
“I want to find out what paralyzed her!” John protested.
“John, go.” Sherlock said. John groaned, but walked past the teachers and turning the corner away from the crime scene, leaving the mysterious writing behind him. When he got to the common room it was almost empty, but his friends were sitting by the fire, thrilled to see him back so late.