A/N: I am Potter!lock trash.
For the third time in two days, Molly found herself as the center of attention in the Great Hall. She had gone almost seven years without drawing too much attention to herself. And now, in her final year, someone was determined to shine a spotlight on her.
Yesterday, an owl had swept over the Hufflepuff table during breakfast and dropped a brown parcel onto her scrambled eggs. Inside was a heart-shaped box of her favourite chocolates. A small note, written in sharp, spiky letters, read 'To the girl whose heart is as sugary sweet as these candies.'
Her befuddlement might have gone unnoticed if Irene Adler hadn't leaned over from the Slytherin table and snatched it from her hand, cackling to the entire hall about the pathetic, mousey Molly having caught the eye of some silly first year. John and Mary had let loose a stream of curses at the other girl that would have gotten them a month's detention had any professors been nearby. Sherlock had just glowered at Irene, a curious flush on his face.
That evening, her embarrassment had barely begun to fade when once again she was forced into the spotlight. She had just filled her plate and picked up her fork to take a bite of her less-than-favorite meal when the food vanished entirely. She jerked back in surprise and glanced around to see that everyone else was digging in. She looked back down and nearly fell backwards off the bench. Instead of the silver plate and heaps of meat and potatoes, in front of her was a porcelain bowl with skulls etched along the rim, overflowing with scoops of Superman ice cream, the brilliant colors a stark contrast to the white bowl. It was a Muggle treat, something her father would bring out of the freezer at home when she needed a pick-me-up, something she hadn't been able to find the magical equivalent of at Hogwarts.
Her friends' conversations died away as they noticed the strange concoction. A few Muggle-borns exclaimed in jealous delight at the sight, word spreading quickly down the table and out to the other Houses.
A note written in the same hand as the first rested half-way underneath the bowl. She pulled it free and blushed as she read. 'A treat for the superhero who is always saving me.'
She frowned, trying to think of who it could be. But with everyone clamoring around her, she could hardly string two logical thoughts together. The murmurs faded into the background as Molly hesitantly picked up her spoon and scooped off a small portion of the rainbow treat. The minute the frozen concoction caressed her taste buds, she let out a delighted moan. Oh, she had missed this.
Mary and John snuck a few bites, but when she offered a bit to Sherlock, instead of sneering down at the treat in derision, as she expected him to, gave her a sincere smile and politely declined.
Students strained their necks trying to get a glance of the strange ice cream, their eyes widening in envy as Molly licked her spoon clean of the last scoop. Their disappointed groans followed her as she stood and shouldered her way out of the Great Hall with her friends, her thumb rubbing along the edge of the note in her pocket. She had her suspicions of who her secret admirer was. And she dearly hoped she was right.
And the next morning, she stood in the middle of the Great Hall, the ceiling dazzled with early morning fog and streams of magical sunlight, and her suspicions were confirmed, to her disbelieving delight. She had been enjoying a quiet breakfast with John and Mary when Sherlock strode up to the table with purpose, his neatly pressed robes billowing out around him. Molly smiled up at their friend, her greeting dying on her lips when he didn't sit down, but instead hauled her to her feet and crushed his lips to hers.
She froze, trying to understand what was happening. Sherlock Holmes is kissing you, you idiot! KISS HIM BACK! She sighed and let her arms fall over his shoulders, her heart racing as he pressed further into her. The laughter and cat-calls around them didn't phase her, her mind completely filled with the high of Sherlock's lips. She gasped against his mouth when he dipped her back, his body molded over hers, and turning her surprise into giggles of delight.
Finally, he straightened up and broke the kiss, but didn't remove his arms from their iron hold around her waist. She breathed in deeply and moved her hands down to his chest, trying to regain her equilibrium. 'Um, okay.'
He quirked an eyebrow. 'Just 'okay'? A bevy of adjectives at your disposal, and you choose 'okay'?'
'Earth-shaking, fantastic… good?' She winked cheekily. He huffed, his reddened lips pursing into a pout. 'You could have just said something, you know. You didn't have to make such a big show. Not that it hasn't been appreciated.' She bit her lip and looked up through her eyelashes at her no-longer-secret admirer. Sherlock Holmes, her best friend and the boy she'd been in love with since third year, was holding her in his arms and looking down at her as though the she was the most precious thing in his world.
'Yes, I could have. But after putting up with me for so many years, I reasoned you deserve some special attention.'
Molly blushed and fiddled with the Ravenclaw insignia on his robes. The entire hall was watching them, most in great relief, having had enough of the pompous prat scaring off any boy who came within three feet of his friend, yet refusing to acknowledge any feelings he had for her, whatsoever. The only exceptions seemed to be John and Mary, the former begrudgingly handing a small bag of galleons to his smug girlfriend with a mumbled 'Never should have made a bet that his plan wouldn't work,' and Irene Adler, who was clutching the shards of a glass goblet, her face screwed into an expression of murderous rage.
'So, you kind of like me, then?' Molly asked with a knowing smile.
'It would seem so.' He sighed heavily. 'To my great surprise, I more than like you. Love, would be a far more accurate description.'
Beaming in unconstrained delight, she was about to reward his admission with another kiss when they were interrupted by a fondly exasperated voice.
'As delighted as we all are that the two of you have gotten your act together, we would appreciate it if you would continue your… discussion in a private place, remembering that you are still students of this school for another three days.'
Molly jerked her hands away from Sherlock and turned in his arms to face Professor McGonagall. 'Sorry, professor.' She wiggled out of Sherlock's embrace, to his aggravation.
He reached out and caught her hand, lacing his fingers tightly with hers, and began pulling her out of the Great Hall, calling out behind him, 'My apologies, Professor McGonagall.' Just before he shut the large door behind them, he turned back and winked at the smiling professor. 'We'll send you an invitation to the wedding in a year or two.'
'Sherlock!'
