Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Written for the Sherlock Challenge - Prompt - Witch Weekly Magazine.
Word Count 564
For Lizzy - I hope you feel better love.
Bad Press
John looked around the Great Hall. If he was searching for anyone else, he'd have simply looked down their house table, but he was searching for Sherlock, which meant he was as likely to be sitting at the Slytherin table as he was to be perched on top of the house point counters, or inspecting the Headmaster's throne like chair from the underneath.
Spotting him sitting at the other end of the Hufflepuff table, John hurried down the aisle, sitting down facing him.
Sherlock didn't bother to acknowledge him.
"What are you reading?" John asked. From the doors, he'd expected the genius to be hunched over something suspect in the Daily Prophet, but that looked like…
"Sherlock… why are you reading Witch Weekly Magazine?" he asked, biting his lip to keep his laughter in check.
Sherlock might pretend that he was above petty teasing, but he was actually pretty sensitive.
"James Moriarty is number one on the list of upcoming bachelors," Sherlock spat, spinning the magazine around and shoving it towards John with a sneer.
John glanced over the page, seeing that Moriarty was indeed number one, with Sherlock trailing behind in third place.
"Why do we care about this?" John asked. "You're not exactly a single bachelor anyway, are you?"
"Oh, spare me your insecurities, you know I love you. I just hate that Moriarty is number one. He was already bloody impossible to deal with in the Common Room, and now... " Sherlock cut himself off with a deep sigh.
John reached out, squeezing his hand. "Well… how about we change that then, huh?"
"How?"
John smiled.
…
He leant against the wall, listening to Pamela Travers chatter happily about her betrothal to Peter Parkinson, waiting patiently for his opening.
When it came, he offered her a small smile.
"Did you hear about Moriarty?" he asked in a hushed voice.
Her eyes widened. "No, what happened?"
"I heard his family got caught doing some bad business, you know, bad business. His father managed to stay out of Azkaban, but the fine hit them pretty hard if you know what I'm saying. He was seen in Knockturn trying to sell off some of his books to raise cash to pay it."
…
Eleanor Abbott stared wide eyed at John.
"It's really all potions and spells?" she asked, raising her hand to her mouth.
John nodded. "You know I've been helping out in the hospital wing? He messed up one of his spells and had to get himself set right. The spell Madam Pomfrey used wiped all of his enchantments away. He looked so different… and not in a good way."
…
"I don't believe you!"
John shrugged. "Believe what you want, but… well. You might want to get yourself tested. Last I heard, he was riddled with fundungus, and you know that's the worst STI."
"Bastard! I'll kill him!"
…
Sherlock was practically giddy when he read the next issue of Witch Weekly, and he did a happy dance when Moriarty stood up from the Slytherin Table and hissed, "I know this was you, Holmes. I'll get you back for this!"
John looked at Sherlock, his eyebrows raised, the question clear on his face.
"He's slipped down into seventh."
John grinned. "Another week and I'll have him off the list completely."
"You, John Watson, are perfect," Sherlock announced, kissing John soundly on the lips.