Lord of the Swarming Bumble Bees
Characters: John Watson, Barry Cropper, Maria Ramirez
Rating: G
Summary: It's a wonder why no one ever tried to recruit Hufflepuffs as minions.
Notes: Number 12 (Whisper) of the 100 Word Prompt Challenge. All Oneshots are Potterlock.
"You know," Barry Cropper said, leaning in as if he was simply sharing something he read in the Daily Prophet that morning. "If you knew a bit more about magical history you wouldn't be friends with him."
John looked up from his charms work and glanced at the blue and bronze tie the other boy was wearing. "Really," the blonde's voice was flat, tired already of having this conversation four times in the past week with several other Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. "You're a bit of a bully yet I'm still having a conversation with you." He pointed out.
Cropper flushed and reeled back as if John had physically struck him. "I'm just trying to warn you—"
"No," John pointed one finger at the other boy's nose. "No, you're not. You're being an arse."
Maria Ramires snickered while she practiced the levitation charm again, having no sympathy for her fellow eagle even as Bella Elder, the Gryffindor she was working with, gasped at the boy's crude language and dropped her wand.
"Fine," Cropper snarled, picking up his books and moving. "If you don't want my advice—"
"I really don't," John wondered if he could charm the feather into poking the Ravenclaw in the eye.
"—Then I'll just let him prove it to you."
John sighed as if he was on one of the street corners of London, listening to another person preach about how the world was going to end and everyone was doomed. "You do that." He went back to his text, ignoring the whispers and looks that were aimed his way until Elder screeched, leaping out of her seat as her feather exploded, Ramires laughing with her arms wrapped around her stomach at the terror on the other girl's face. Flitwick raced over to help put out the flames and the Ravenclaw pushed her chair over to John in the commotion.
"They're all a bunch of assholes," She told him, tilting her chair back on two of its legs. "The Holmes family didn't participate in the war, you see? They were neutral on both fronts."
Furrowing his brow, John frowned. "Really?"
Ramires shrugged, waving her wand at her feather and making it dance with his. "There are only rumours, see, you'll have to ask Sherlock what really happened, but the Holmes' were approached by Dumbledore and asked to help out with the resistance. All everyone remembers is that the Holmes said no. But during the trials, none of the Death Eaters ever confessed to the Holmes family being in their ranks."
"But because they said no to Dumbledore, everyone automatically assumes...?" John frowned thoughtfully.
"Exactly," Ramires said, watching as the flames on her desk were finally put out.
The Gryffindor snorted. "That's rubbish, maybe they just don't like him?"
"The Holmes family doesn't like to get involved with fighting," Ramires grinned toothily, her white teeth bright against her dark face. "Sherlock is a bit of a phenomenon, actually."
John blinked and frowned, thinking about the small black haired boy with his pale skin, the light freckles on his cheeks, his bright grey eyes that seemed to change colours depending upon the lighting and what he was standing in front of. "Why?"
"He's the first Holmes to ever go into Slytherin."
For a second, the only sound between them was that of their feathers still dancing on the table, tips brushing against the wood like small brooms. "So people think he's going to be the next Dark Lord because he went into Slytherin?"
Ramires sighed heavily, as if the stupidity of the world was a burden on her shoulders. "People are morons. But they also aren't." Their eyes met. "I think Sherlock has the potential to be something great. But what he does with that greatness... I think it's all up to you, John Watson."
"Me?" No pressure, he thought darkly. "Thanks."
She laughed at him. "Oh, John. He's happy with you as his friend. You help him be kind, something no one else can see. And he didn't surround himself with Slytherins, he surrounded himself with Hufflepuffs." The Ravenclaw gave him a wide grin. "I hardly think that's the sign of a Dark Lord in the making, don't you?"
John thought it over and felt his heart lighten even as he snickered. "I think they would make outstanding minions," he answered instead. "There would be no worries of any of them changing sides, they'd fight to the death for their friends—"
"Merlin," she breathed, giggles escaping. "You're right. They're terrifying!"
"Army of Badgers!"
"Behold the pungent Badger King! The Lord of the Swarming Bumble Bees!"
John was laughing out loud now, joined by Ramires while the other Gryffindors and Ravenclaws stared at them, just a tiny bit scared as to whether or not the two of them had actually lost it.
"Feel better?" The Ravenclaw asked as their laughter died to giggles.
Giving her a sunny smile, John waved his wand at Cropper's feather across the room, snickering as it burst into flame and the boy scrambled out of his seat like the fire was some dangerous creature ready to pounce and eat him alive. "Yes," he said. "I do."
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Happy Reading,
Gospel
