I apologize for the delay. Enjoy! Oh and I don't own HP or Sherlock
"Sebastian Moran," the strange wizard said, "Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent," He scribbled his name onto the bored, "And your new defense against the dark arts teacher. I am here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?" He scrutinized the class and John sank further into his seat.
Sherlock and John were situated near the front of the class, next to each other, but John suddenly wished they had sat in the back. Mad eye Moran was a frightening man with a twisted face and a horrible scar. His magical eye swiveled and stared at every one.
John's focus returned to the teacher when he began to speak again, "When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach," he growled and Sherlock and John exchanged curious looks, "But first which of you can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"
Sally Donovan, a fellow Ravenclaw called out, "Three sir," she said smugly.
Moran nodded, "And they are so named?" He turned and began scribbling on the board again.
Sally continued, "Because they are unforgivable. The use of any one of them will-"
Moran cut her off, "Will earn you a one way ticket to Azkaban, correct. Now, The Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different!" Sherlock tensed as Moran slammed the chalk onto the table, "You need to know what you're up against! You need to be prepared!" He all but yelled, and he returned to his chalk board. "So which curse shall we see first?" He asked excitedly.
John saw Sherlock go pale and his fists shook, "Hey you ok," he whispered.
Sherlock relaxed, but only minutely, "Yes I'm fine."
They redirected their attention, "The Imperius Curse!" He walked over to his desk to a small glass jar containing a strange spider-like creature that he coaxed into his hand, he drew out his wand and pointed it at the creature, "Engorgio," he said and the spider creature grew to the size of his hand, "Imperio," he growled and he waved his wand. It jumped from his hand and onto one of the student's desk, who promptly scrambled away. With another flick of his wand it jumped onto the student's face, who froze in fear, "Don't worry. It's completely harmless," he continued to make the thing hop about the room, "If she bites, she's lethal," he said with a twisted laugh. "What should I have her do next? Jump out the window? Drown herself?" He drew the creature back into his palm, "Scores, of witches and wizards, have claimed that they only did Dark Arts because they were under the influence of the Imperius Curse. But here's the rub: How do we sort out the liars?" He leaned back and watched the class silently. Everyone continued to stare at him as though he were mad, which he was.
"Another curse?" He said after a moments quiet. Slowly Molly Hooper, the girl next to John raised her hand, "Hooper is it?" He asked and she nodded, "Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for herbology," He said to her.
She nodded again, "There's… the Cruciatus Curse," she stuttered.
"Correct, Correct. Come, come," he beckoned her over to his desk, "The torture curse," He growled almost in a whisper. Molly walked hesitantly over to his desk where he set the spider thing down. "Curcio!" He called and the thing began to writhe and cringe as though it were in agony. Molly flinched and backed away, looking as though she was going to cry or be sick, possibly both.
"Stop, Can't you see it's bothering her," John cried rising from his seat. Moran glanced at John then back at Molly and withdrew his wand. Immediately the writhing stopped and the creature relaxed in obvious relief. John sat back down stiffly and Sherlock watched him in slight concern.
Molly sighed in relief and sat back down with a thankful look to John.
Moran coughed and picked up the creature and carried it over to John's desk, where he dropped it onto his books. Both Sherlock and John tensed. "Perhaps you could give us the last Unforgivable curse Mister Watson," Moran said. John however stared straight ahead refusing to answer. "No?"
"Avada Kadavra!" He hissed and thrust his wand at the creature. A small green light shot from his wand and with a small cry it curled up and died. John and Sherlock stared down at the creature then back up at their teacher, who stared back at them. Without removing his eyes he said, "The Killing Curse. There is no way to survive it," he said and his tongue flickered out past his lips. He reached into his coat and withdrew a silver flask and took a hearty gulp. Sherlock's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Moran spoke this time to Molly, "Miss Hooper, please stay after class, I'd like to show you something," he said and continued teaching the class about the Unforgivable Curses.
As soon as the class was over John and Sherlock bolted from the room, both happy to get away from their demented teacher.
"What was he thinking?! Showing those curses in a class room for God's sake," John seethed.
Sherlock nodded, though only vaguely paying attention. His thoughts were on that strange twitch he saw earlier. Then it suddenly went away after Moran drank some of what was in the flask. Sherlock frowned, what was in the flask?
"Sherlock, Are you even listening?" John growled at his boyfriend.
"What?" Sherlock said only half paying attention.
John sighed in frustration, "Whatever, I'm just glad to get away from that crazy nutter," he said and Sherlock couldn't agree more.
?
Sherlock and John were sitting in the Great Hall, watching the students place their names into the burning magical goblet.
"If only I was a seventh year," he sighed.
"I wouldn't let you do it even if you were," Sherlock stated.
John glanced at his boyfriend and sighed again, "I know, but it's still enough to wish for though right? "Eternal Glory."
"Enough to risk your life for," Sherlock asked.
"I wouldn't die, I still have you after all," He said and kissed his nose.
They both went quiet when a stern almost cold presence entered the room. Viktor Krum walked past the two and placed his name into the cup. As he was walking away he glanced at John and smiled.
John turned pink but smiled back, shyly. His attention was drawn when he felt his arm being pulled, "What was that?" Sherlock demanded of his boyfriend.
"What's the matter Sherlock, jealous?" John smirked.
Sherlock scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous John, why would I be jealous?" John stared at him for a moment then sighed. Sherlock pretended not to care, but his insides burned when he saw John's eyes follow Krum until he was out of the room and out of sight.
?
Everyone was gathered in the great hall, milling about waiting to be seated.
"I wonder who it's going to be," John said excitedly
Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Whoever it is going to die. Mycroft told me the challenges were especially difficult this year."
John looked mildly concerned, "What if it's someone we know," he said.
Sherlock scoffed, "Oh please, everyone who is important to us is too smart to enter in something so dangerous. I just hope that Anderson gets picked."
"That seventh year Hufflepuff? Why him?"
"Because John I hate him, he is a total idiot!" Sherlock growled.
"Everyone! Please be seated," Dumbledore called. Everyone stopped chatting and sat in silence, "Now the moment you've all been waiting for, The Champion selection," he called and everyone clapped enthusiastically. He waved his hand and the fires dimmed until the only light in the dark room came from the burning blue fire flickering in the Goblet in the front of the room. He walked towards it, hand outstretched and waiting. Suddenly the fire flickered and a burnt piece of paper flew from the fire and into Dumbledore's hand. "The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum!" The men from Durmstarng called and cheered as the stoic young man walked up to Dumbledore and shook his hand, then to the back room, waiting for the other champions.
The fire glowed again this time a bright pink and it spat out another piece of burnt paper, "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour," he called and everyone cheered as the young woman danced gracefully to the back room.
Once again the fire flickered and the Headmaster caught the final piece of paper, "The Champion for Hogwarts is…" Everyone drew bated breath, "Gregory Lestrade!" He called and everyone cheered. The Hufflepuff look totally shocked and if it weren't for the hands that pushed him to the front he would have been totally frozen. He swallowed hard and did not meet Mycroft's eye at the table next to his. He walked up to the room stiffly and with short steps. Sherlock glanced at John, who wore a concerned look, then to his brother who looked furious.
Mycroft clutched his umbrella as though he was ready to wield it as a weapon. He stared after Greg with an angry fire in his eyes.
Greg was going to have hell to pay for this one.
"Excellent! We now have our three champions," Dumbledore called, but suddenly the flame flickered again and it spat out another burnt paper. With a fierce frown Dumbledore caught the paper and in a trembling voice he said, "John Watson."