Amortentia

Part 29

“How’d it go?” Sara practically demanded.
“Amazing.” John said, wanting to jump and twirl or something, overcome with energy he didn’t know he had.
“Do you love him yet?” Sara asked again. John laughed, he definitely liked Holmes, he didn’t know about loving him though.
“I really like him, you guys were right.” John said, but he wasn’t mad that he was wrong, he was actually really happy.
“Did you break up with Mary then?” Greg asked.
“Ya, but she wasn’t even mad, she wanted me to be happy and said she saw the way we looked at each other, she knew that I liked him.” John admitted. “How’d it go with Molly?”
“Fine, we danced a bit, but she wants to continue the relationship.” Greg said happily.
“Do you two want to continue your relationship?” John asked Sara and Mike jokingly.
“No!” They both said with disgusted faces.
“Did you dance?”
“No.”
“That’s a shame, I wanted a picture.” John said with disappointment, and then skipped up to the dorm to go to bed, even though he wasn’t the tiniest bit tired.

                That morning the sun was bright and the birds were chirping. There was a layer of snow on the ground, fresh, it must have fallen over night. They didn’t have quidditch that day due to the freezing temperatures, so John had his first free day after a while of cramped schedules. He got up early, eager to start his day with Holmes. He pulled on a sweater vest and Gryffindor tie with slacks, the only clothes they were allowed to wear other than robes. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table, putting it in his pocket just in case. He walked down the steps quietly, trying not to wake any of the other sleeping boys up, and headed out of the portrait hole. The corridors were chilly dispute the torches and attempt to make it warm. John ignored it though, he had a bubble of warmth and happiness around him, generated by the mere thought of Professor Holmes. He knew he’d be sitting up in the staff table, not eating anything but watching the door for his arrival. When John got there his prediction was correct, but instead of ignoring him as he had always done in the past, John smiled up at Holmes, who smiled back. The Great Hall didn’t have many people in it, and it didn’t have any signs of the ball last night expect for the Christmas trees, prepared by Hagrid for Christmas, which was next Sunday already. Time sure does fly when you have your memory wiped. John didn’t want the time to fly though, as much as school was a pain he didn’t want to leave Hogwarts, the best seven years of his life and practically his home. He sat down alone at the Gryffindor table, taking a piece of toast from a stack on the table and started to spread his favorite type of jam on it. When he looked over at the staff table he saw that Holmes had disappeared, to where he had no idea, until someone plopped down on the bench next to him.
“Hello John.” Holmes said, grabbing a piece of toast also. John turned fast, almost dropping the toast he had back onto his plate and smearing the jam he worked so hard to spread evenly.
“Hi Professor.” John said, a bit awkwardly. Seeing his face only made John’s heart race like mad.
“Call me Sherlock.” Sherlock said with a smile. John nodded; Sherlock was a weird name though. Who names their kid Sherlock?
“What happened to all of your friends?”
“Oh, they were sleeping in.” John said simply.
“Why are you up so early then?” Sherlock asked. John smiled shyly and didn’t answer; he knew that Sherlock knew why he was up.
“Why are you up so early?” John asked.
“I never like to eat when there are too many people in the room; I don’t like people very much.” Sherlock said simply, taking a bite of his toast.
“Is that why you weren’t at the dinner before the ball then?”
“Of course, how would you like to sit next to Snape when there is a knife sitting between you and him?”
“If you don’t like people why’d you go to the ball?”
“I think we both know that answer.” Sherlock said with a smile. John finished his breakfast quickly; anxious to start the day he would hopefully be spending with Holmes.
“So do you want to come to the common room or something?” John asked.
“Am I allowed?” Sherlock asked, even though the rules probably wouldn’t stop him from coming.
“I think so, you are a professor technically.” John shrugged.
“Okay then.” Holmes agreed with a smile, vaulting up from the bench and already walking down to the doors. John caught up, jogging to catch him. Sherlock walked very fast, probably because he was so tall, and it was difficult to keep up. They walked the steps in silence, dodging the groups of kids walking down to the Great Hall. John noticed Holmes wasn’t wearing robes; he was wearing a white shirt with a black jacket and slacks, apparently his choice outfit. John wasn’t complaining though, Sherlock looked very good in that outfit. He told the Fat Lady the password and climbed through the portrait hole before Sherlock, sitting on one of the armchairs in front of the fire. Sherlock sat in the one next to him, crossing his legs and sitting forward to rest his chin on his fingertips like he did a lot.
“Do you know how to play chess?” John asked after a while of Sherlock remaining motionless. He jumped back to his senses though, and nodded.
“You don’t remember, but I was able to beat all of your friends.” Holmes said with a victorious smile.
“I don’t have a chess board though, let me go up and get Mike’s, I’m sure he won’t mind.” John said, running up the dorms. The boys were still asleep, but luckily John knew where Mike kept his chess board and pieces, so, being as quiet as possible, he grabbed it and went back downstairs, where Holmes was already sitting on the floor in front of the fire. The flickering light in the dim common room made him look very mysterious, like a detective story or something. Outside the window the snow was starting to fall again, coming down lightly and slightly covering the already fallen snow. It felt like Christmas already, the common room deserted and the fire going. John set the board down and sat in front of Sherlock, setting up the pieces. When they were all set up and started to play, it took Sherlock almost three minutes to beat John, the fastest game John had ever played. His pieces were piles of chipped stone on the floor, while only one or two of Sherlock’s pieces had been destroyed. Sherlock smiled at him innocently, and started repairing the pieces with his wand.
“That was amazing!” John exclaimed. Sherlock paused to look up at John with surprise.
“It was just chess.” He muttered.
“You’re a bloody genius at it though!” John pointed out.
“It’s simple.”
“Not to me, I have to think about one move longer than it takes you to play an entire game!”
“Well then you should practice more.” Holmes suggested.
“Too busy with everything else going on, and I don’t really think that’s on my to-do list yet.” John admitted. Sherlock smiled at him, making John feel like he was melting. A smile on Holmes’s face was extremely rare before, but now it seems like every time they made eye contact Sherlock smiled. John loved it when he smiled, his face brightening up on the spot, making him look like a normal teenager and making John wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips. He tried to clear that thought out of his head for now, he doubted Holmes was the type to kiss after barely a day, but then again, he didn’t know him very well yet.
“Another game?” Holmes asked, placing the repaired chessman on the board. John and he played four more rounds before John just gave up, the last game lasting one and a half minutes. His brain felt like it was full to bursting, too much thinking in so little time, but Holmes was back to repairing the pieces when John fell onto his back dramatically.
“No more chess.” He mumbled. He heard Sherlock laugh quietly above him, and his heart did a weird little dance thing in his chest.
“What else is there to do on a day like today?” Sherlock asked with boredom.
“I don’t know, play in the snow, go to the library?” John asked, even though he could tell Sherlock was not one to play in the snow.
“Libraries are fun.” He decided.
“That was kind of sarcastic.” John shrugged. Apparently they didn’t have to entertain themselves though, because at that moment Greg came down the steps to the common room, yawning as he fumbled to put his wand in his pocket. John and Holmes watched him come, wondering how long it would take for him to notice they were there. He made it to the portrait hole when he jumped back with a startled yell, making both John and Sherlock laugh. John was still lying on the ground, so he saw the whole scene upside down, which made it even funnier.
“Good morning.” John muttered, sitting up and turning to face the newcomer.
“How long have you two been up?” Greg asked annoyingly.
“For a while now.” John shrugged.
“All you people sleep forever.” Holmes observed.
“You don’t ever sleep in?” Greg asked, sitting in an armchair.
“No, it’s a waste of time.” Holmes said simply. Greg shrugged as if he had a point.
“Chess huh? You beat us all last time.” Greg said.
“He just beat me five times in a row and we haven’t been playing for more than fifteen minutes.” John complained.
“How’d you manage to nick the board from Mike?” Greg asked.
“I know where he keeps it and you guys are deep sleepers apparently, wasn’t too difficult.” John shrugged.
“He’ll be mad at you if you even scratch it.” Greg pointed out.
“That’s why we have magic.” Holmes pointed out. Greg smiled rather reluctantly and got up from the chair.
“Well if you guys want to have a snowball fight later, the snow is still falling and I think Mike will be looking forward to it.” Greg decided.
“Okay.” John shrugged. Greg climbed through the portrait hole, leaving them once again alone.
“Snow ball fight?” Sherlock asked with amusement.
“It’s sort of a tradition we have when it snows, you don’t have to play but I think I will.” John said excitedly.
“I’ve never actually had a snowball fight.”
“Never? Why not?”
“No one to fight, well, I guess I’ve gotten snowballs thrown at me, but instead of throwing back I just jinxed them.” Sherlock said with a proud smile.
“Did you get in trouble?”
“Oh god yes.” Holmes laughed. John laughed, he was happy to hear Holmes was able to stand up to people, but it was bad that he had been bullied. For some reason though John wasn’t surprised, Sherlock didn’t seem to be a popular kid even if all of the girls now had crushes on him.
“Well now there are some people to fight with.” John pointed out. Holmes smiled and twirled a chessman around in his fingers. John smiled back at him, but he doubted he looked nearly as attractive. The moment was ruined though when some girls came down from their dorms in a pack, talking as quietly as they possibly could, which for a pack of girls nearly blew out John’s eardrums. When they noticed Holmes sitting on the floor they stopped talking immediately, all running their fingers through their hair, watching him. Sherlock didn’t seem to notice them; he was still twirling the chess piece and staring off into space. John noticed though, and even though he knew Holmes would have no interest in them, he was filled with protectiveness. If any of them tried to even approach Holmes they would be jinxed so fast they wouldn’t know what hit them. Fortunately for them though, the most they did was look at him as they left the common room through the portrait hole. After that everyone seemed to wake up, heading to breakfast alone or in packs, talking a laughing together. John and Sherlock packed up the chess set and left it for Mike to find on the table. Sara soon came down to see them sitting in armchairs, not really talking, but just sitting there waiting for Greg to come back.
“You two are up early.” She observed.
“For a while now yes.” Holmes agreed.
“How long have you been here?”
“Since breakfast.”
“Well newsflash, it’s not very exciting here, but it looks like its snowing and you know what that means!” Sara said excitedly.
“Greg already told us, snowball fight.” John said with a smile.
“Sherlock are you playing too?” Sara asked. John’s head whipped around quickly, staring her dead in the eyes.
“How do you know his name?” John demanded.
“You’re forgetting you two were together before.” Sara said innocently, holding her hands up. John relaxed and turned to look back into the fire, not knowing what he was so nervous about.
“Yes I think I’ll play.” Holmes said, as if the little episode hadn’t happened.
“Great, I’ll see you guys after breakfast then.” Sara decided, and she walked out of the common room rather quickly.
“What was that all about?” Sherlock asked after a little bit.
“Nothing.” John said quickly. Holmes took that as an acceptable answer and went back to whatever he had been thinking about before Sara came.
“So do you have winter clothes to wear?” John asked him.
“No.”
“You’re going to go out in the cold like that?”
“I have a jacket.” Holmes said simply.
“Well go get that then, and maybe a pair of gloves or something, I’ll be here.” John decided, getting up from his chair and going up to the dorms to get his jacket and gloves. Mike was still asleep, which John didn’t think was possible. But if he wanted to be part of the snowball fight he had to wake up, so, rather nervously, John poked his forehead. Mike just rolled over in his sleep, so John, seeing good opportunities here, pulled his pillow out from under his head and letting him fall onto the mattress. Whoever was still asleep wasn’t anymore after Mike yelled at John, throwing the pillow at him while John ran, laughing to his side of the dorm. After John explained that he would miss the snowball fight, Mike calmed down a little bit and changed into his robes while John dug around in his trunk. He got his jacket, a pair of gloves, and a Gryffindor scarf out and carried it down to the common room. Sherlock was already down there, wearing a long black coat with his collar turned up, and a blue scarf tied strangely around his neck. Even though he looked very out of place in the Wizarding world he looked amazingly attractive, and John had to remember what he was doing as he continued down the steps. The torches had brightened up, making the common room brighter for the day time, which was a bit of a shame for John; he liked it better by the light of the fire.
“We aren’t going out yet.” John pointed out, throwing his outdoor clothes on the armchair, but stayed standing.
“Is Greg back?” Holmes asked.
“Not yet I don’t think, but Mike is up now.” John said, laughing to himself a bit.
“I have a feeling that wasn’t peaceful.”
“No, it wasn’t, but it worked and he’s up.” John said triumphantly. As if on cue, Mike came running down the steps, carrying his jacket with him, ignoring the two and running down to the  Great Hall in order to t miss the snowball fight.
“So it’s just going to be the five of us then?” Sherlock asked uncertainly.
“Unless you’ve got a friend you want to invite.” John shrugged.
“I don’t have friends.” Sherlock said simply.
“Well, now you do.” John assured. Sherlock smiled, pretending that meant something, but he wasn’t just looking for friendship with John. It was true that Greg, Mike, and Sara could be considered his friends though, something he’s never had before. They waited for the three to come back to the common room in the armchairs, not talking about much and staring into the fire without much interest. When the trio finally came through the portrait hole, John got his jacket on while they went to get their coats and gloves. John tied his scarf carefully around his neck and slipped his gloves on just as they came down the steps.
“Sherlock playing too?” Greg asked.
“Ya, at least I think so.” John agreed, looking at Sherlock uncertainly.
“Yes, I am.” Sherlock assured. They all headed down to the entrance hall, where the oak doors were open, letting the cold air leak into the hall, chilling John to the bone. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, shivering. The snow was still falling over the grounds, making it look very beautiful. There were a couple of students walking around together, some of them were couples, snuggling up to each other and sharing scarves. They approached the flat ground where they usually played, near Hagrid’s cabin, where white smoke was puffing cheerfully out of the chimney.
“So, two teams, who will they be?” Greg asked.
“I’m with John.” Sherlock said immediately, stepping closer to him.
“Okay, two against three then? Let the lovebirds be their own team?”’ Mike asked with a sarcastic smile. John and Sherlock both frowned at him, but Sara and Greg both grinned in agreement.
“Fine.” John decided, walking to his side. There was a rock sticking out of the snow as there always was, it was boundary separating the sides every year.  The teams separated, and after Greg screamed go, Sherlock immediately balled up some snow in his fist and threw it at Mike. The snowball fell apart in midair, and fell to the ground in a powder.
“We need a base first!” John called from a little bit father on their side. Sherlock turned to look at him as Mike returned fire, this snowball wasn’t a dud though, and it hit Sherlock in the back of the head, making him run as fast as he could, which in snow wasn’t very fast, to John, hiding behind him with snow in his dark curls.
“I don’t like this game.” Sherlock decided. John laughed and started to make a fort, packing snow together in a wall in front of them. The cold snow soaked into his pants, making his legs start to go numb, but he didn’t bother with that for now.
“Sherlock do you want to help or are you going to just sit there?” John asked. Sherlock was standing behind John still, frowning as he watched the other side start building their base. John couldn’t help but think he looked absolutely adorable. He knelt beside John though, and started to collect the snow in a big pile, clumping it together. When the snow pile was big enough to hide them both, they put their backs to it, slumped low so the tops of their heads didn’t stick out, and started making snow balls. John, who had done this many times, although usually with Greg, had a good pile started, but Sherlock was working on his second snowball, the first already starting to fall apart.
“Sherlock you’re doing it wrong, it you keep smashing it, it’ll fall apart.” John recommended. Sherlock watched as John made his snowball between his two hands, and then tried it himself. This time he made a successful snowball, but instead of saving it like he should’ve he jumped up from his hiding place and threw the snowball at the other side. John heard a smashing sound and Sherlock practically fell back beside him, brushing snow off of his face.
“How’d that go huh?” John asked with amusement. Sherlock groaned, still failing at getting all of the snow out of his hair so it was flecked with white. Sherlock looked so bloody adorable John wanted to kiss him right then and there, behind their snow fort, but a snowball crashed into the fort behind them, making the two duck down lower as the snowballs started flying over their heads.
“Ready?” John asked, turning to jump up, snowballs in both hands. Sherlock copied him and nodded, ready to spring up. John counted down, and on three they both jumped up and threw snowballs at the pile of snow a little way away from the rock barrier. The three at the other port responded by appearing over top and returning fire, which John and Sherlock avoided, ducking down behind the fort. John couldn’t help but notice Sherlock’s shoulder overlapping his own, pressing him ever so lightly into the snow.
“Get another load of snowballs.” John commanded, making his own and getting ready to fire. “We’ll go in order; you throw two and duck down, so when they come up to return fire I can hit them.” John planned. Sherlock took a moment to think about that, but nodded and jumped up, throwing the snowballs at the opposing fort. When he ducked back down, John waiting for a moment, and then jumped up and saw the three of them on the other side ready to throw. He threw his snowballs as hard and fast as he could, but they had thrown too, and he got hit four out of six times, so when he ducked back down he was covered in snow. Sherlock laughed though, and brushed the snow off of John’s face with his delicate fingers. John’s heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, but then Sherlock took his hand away, letting his heart rate go back to normal.
“That plan was rubbish.” Sherlock decided. John nodded in agreement.
“You have a better one?” John asked defensively.
“Well, yes actually. I can enchant the snowballs…” Sherlock started.
“No magic, sorry.” John interrupted. Sherlock frowned; he had been excited to share his genius.
“Then no plan from me.” Sherlock decided. There was the familiar thump of a snowball on their base and they ducked down even more, just in case. The snowballs flew over the fort too, making Sherlock pull his legs closer to him just in case. John wasn’t that tall, so he didn’t worry too much about that. Instead he got up and threw snowballs at the disappearing heads, going back to the fort. He successfully hit Sara in the side of the head, but the other one missed. John ducked down as he heard Sara’s angry yell of surprise.
“You get her?” Sherlock asked.
“Yep.” John said triumphantly.
“She’ll be mad.” Sherlock pointed out.
“Oh ya.” John agreed. As if on cue a snowball flew over the fort and crash landed into the snow next to John’s leg. John picked it up, it was still intact, must have been Greg’s, he makes practically invincible snowballs.
“We could use this.” John observed, throwing it up for himself and catching it. Sherlock scooted away from him, as if he was planning on throwing it at him. John rolled his eyes at him, got up, and threw the snowball up and over the other side’s fort. It was a good throw actually; it seemed to have hit someone by the yells from the other side. The snowball fight went on nearly three hours before everyone was frozen stiff by the snow, which had continued to fall throughout the entire game. Now there was at least a foot more of snow covering the ground, making the trudge back up to the castle seems like eternity. The bloody snow rose up to John’s knees, making him trip a lot and curse at the ground. Sherlock was shivering in his jacket, the only layer of warmth he had, and he was covered in snow from a rather vicious surprise attack where the three other teams left their fort. John and Sherlock lost the battle, but the odds were unfair because they were a man short and Sherlock was practically hopeless at anything that involved physical activity. When they finally climbed up to the Entrance Hall the lack of snow weighing their feet down made John feel like his feet were floating or something, it was a very nice feeling.
“I’m freezing; I’m going up to change.” Sara decided at once. The others all agreed with her, but when John tried to join them up the steps they practically pushed him back to Sherlock.
“You look okay; just have some tea or something.” Mike insisted, and they all ran up the steps before John could catch them.
“The staff room has tea, if you want some.” Sherlock offered. John debated whether or not he was brave enough to go into the staff room, but he was in seventh year and Sherlock was technically staff.
“That sounds brilliant.” John agreed. Sherlock led him up the steps and through the corridors, making their way to the staff room while trying to stomp all of the snow off of their shoes. If Filch caught them doing this they’d have detention for a week, but thankfully he didn’t show up. When Sherlock opened the door for them John got his first glimpse of the room, one of the only places he’d never been in before. It looked like the common room, but it had a long conference like table in the front, and a living room thing in the back. There was a wardrobe off to one side and a table that held food and tea on the other side. There wasn’t any staff in the staff room and the lights were dimmed, only lighting up the snack stand as if it was normal for them to pop in just for the food. Sherlock moved into the light, got a pot, tapped it with his wand, and filled it with water. He handed John a small box of tea bags to pick from, which John just picked herb tea, and put into the already boiling water. The water blended with the tea and turned a rich brown color, bubbling slightly with the heat. John sat on the staff table, feeling a bit rebellious even though the worst that could come from it was someone telling him to get off. He watched as Sherlock carefully poured the tea into two mugs, which steamed when filled. John shivered a little bit, he had not been allowed to change after going out in the snow, and he was practically covered head to foot in cold, half melted snow.
“Here you go, careful, it’s hot.” Sherlock warned, handing him the cup. When John took it, his hands wrapped around the mug, letting the heat absorb into his hands, warming them up quickly. His gloves lay on the table, forming a puddle of water that he’d have to wipe up before they left. The tea was too hot to drink, so John blew on it, spewing the steam everywhere, trying to cool it down. Sherlock sat on the table next to him, his feet able to touch the ground while John’s legs dangled uselessly. John glanced at Sherlock, who was sipping his tea already, even though it was still very hot. The light made his face shadowy, making him look very mysterious.
“That was fun I guess.” Sherlock shrugged.
“Well, traditions are traditions; I actually enjoy this one though.” John smiled. He noticed Sherlock still had some snow in his hair, flecking the dark curls with white. His green eyes were bright, noticeable in the semi-darkness, his pale skin looking lighter… John realized he had been staring at Sherlock, who obviously noticed it, so he just sipped his tea without remembering it would be hot. His mouth burned as he swallowed it, reminding himself never to do that again. He tried to make it look like nothing had happened at all, but in reality his mouth was feeling like it was on fire. Sherlock watched him, and a tiny smile appeared on the corners of his lips. John noticed they were close, their elbows almost touching, that the staff room was conveniently empty. Should he do it? Could he? He obviously knew Sherlock liked him; he had tried to kiss him before! But John still wasn’t sure if he was able to accept being gay too, he never thought of himself like that, he had just broken up with his girlfriend. All of these thoughts seemed to vaporize when he looked at Sherlock again. It wasn’t fair, why did he have to be so close, in this sort of darkness, with snow in his hair, why did he have to be so bloody attractive? Out of all of the students in the school, John was glad Sherlock was into him, because whether he liked it or not, John liked him too. He was so close, right there, John just had to lean a couple of inches, and Sherlock turned to face him.
“Still too hot?” Sherlock asked him. John blinked out of his thoughts, comprehending what Sherlock had just said.
“Ya.” John agreed.  Sherlock shrugged, sipping his own tea without difficulty. When he put the cup down, John went for it, leaning in closer to Sherlock, who’s head turned just in time for their lips to meet. Sherlock’s mug crashed to the floor, but John didn’t hear it shatter, he only knew one thing, that he was kissing Sherlock Holmes. His lips were soft, gentle, and John could tell he was unsure what to do. John’s arms wrapped around Sherlock, who pulled the two off of the table and onto their feet, where John had to stand on his tiptoes to not break the kiss. His heart leapt, he felt truly alive, truly in love. He felt Sherlock’s arms around him, pulling him closer. John thought it would never end, he hoped it would never end, but unfortunately they heard the door open. They broke apart quickly and John grabbed his mug from the table as whoever it was appeared from behind the door, pure fear flowing through him. If any Professor had witnessed that, John was sure he’d die from embarrassment or be killed by his parents when he came home months early. Thank god the door had hid the two from view, and were able to step a reasonable distance apart when Professor Sprout came hobbling in the room. John wanted to stun her and go back to kissing Sherlock, which right now was the only thing he could think about. How soft his lips were, how perfect it felt to hold him, how right. John knew for sure he was the missing part of his heart, the one lost with the memory spell, and whoever had cast it deserved to live in the deepest part of hell.
“Sorry boys just popped in for a biscuit.” Sprout said, coming up to the snack table and searching the cabinets. Sorry wasn’t enough to cover ruining the best moment of his life, but John forced a smile when she looked.
“Oh, looked like someone spilled.” She said, noticing the mess of mug and tea on the ground.
“Oh, ya, my mistake, I was just going to, uh, clean that up.” Sherlock stammered, waving his wand, but the mess simply moved to the other side of the room. Sherlock smiled guiltily, but just waved it off. John felt like he was going to kill her if she didn’t get out of here soon.
“You two out in the snow?” She asked as she ate her biscuit.
“Ya, uh, snowball fight with, friends.” John said.
“That sounds like fun, I’m stuck trying to get the mandrakes in their jackets, still won’t let me, very stubborn little beasts. Once they mature though they will be able to revive the students, finally. I feel so bad for leaving them there though, just think about the families. I could never do that, I would go insane.” Sprout decided. Speaking of insane…
“They aren’t revived yet?” Sherlock asked with surprise.
“Nope.” Sprout said with regret. Sherlock frowned, but ended attempts at conversation, trying to make her leave.
“Well, uh, it was nice to see you, but I bet those mandrakes hate the cold.” John said, trying to get her to leave. Her eyes flicked from John to Sherlock, then back again, and John could tell a light bulb went on in her head.
“Oh, well, yes I suppose so; you boys enjoy your weekend!” She said, and quickly walked out of the room, shutting the door securely. When she was gone, John looked at Sherlock, wanting so desperately to continue the kiss, to have Sherlock’s lips on his again. But Sherlock walked over to were the smashed mug lay, waved his wand, and the whole thing was back to normal, a cup of tea sitting on the floor. Sherlock picked it up and walked again past John, dumping the remaining tea in the sink and leaving the mug on the counter. John looked at him, practically screaming at himself in his head not to kiss Sherlock again, he didn’t want to overwhelm him. Sherlock looked at him too, John could tell he longed to kiss John too, but he couldn’t also, they had a silent agreement Professor Spout ruined the moment, and it could never come back again. John cursed her silently, she seemed to have figured out what she interrupted, but that still didn’t make it right.
“Well, um, I should probably get changed then.” Sherlock decided his voice a pitch higher than usual.
“Ya, me too.” John agreed.
“See you later? I might pop in the common room, UMQRA right?” Sherlock asked.
“Yes.” He wanted Sherlock to come back; he just didn’t want anyone in the school when he did. John turned to go around Sherlock, who moved at the exact same time, making John pause awkwardly to let his go first. It was one of those polite battles, no, you go first kind of thing when neither of you walk and you just stand there insisting the other person just go already. In the end John just walked out in front of Sherlock, turning to go down to the portrait hole.
“I’ll see you later!” John called as Sherlock walked the other way. He smiled at John, a sincere smile, as if he was looking forward to it as much as John was. God he was beautiful.  When John walked around a corner, sure Sherlock couldn’t see, he leaded against the wall, trying to comprehend what just happened. His heart was beating at a million miles an hour, he wanted to chase Sherlock down and kiss him like there was no tomorrow, he didn’t care who was there; he didn’t care if the bloody castle was on fire, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk ruining the relationship, which only lasted for a day or so and it already had more than he had ever had with the months with Mary. John breathed deeply, if he tried he could still slightly taste the tea, which he had only one sip of, but Sherlock had drank plenty, John wondered who’s tea he was tasting. When he went to the portrait hole and climbed through, his friends were playing chess, all in fresh robes, looking very comfortable. When they noticed John, they smiled, but he could tell they weren’t expecting anything major, he had only been gone about twenty minutes. John gave them a huge smile and thumbs up, and went up to the dorms to change. When he came back down in fresh robes, his friends practically mobbed him, demanding to know what had happened. After he explained to them very quietly so no one heard, he thought Sara would explode from all of the excitement.
“So is that it, do you love him?” She asked, the same repeated question, but this time, John knew the answer, this time he was positive.
“Yes.” John agreed. Sara jumped back in excitement and squealed, as if her life had been completed with one simple word. Mike and Greg were being calmer about it, trying to only smile, but John knew they’d be just like Sara if they could.