Chapter Seven

What's going on with you and me?

"Mr Holmes, the headmistress wishes to speak with you."

Sherlock who was at a precarious part of his potion ignored the portrait of Severus Snape, though even if he hadn't been at such a part he would have ignored it. He was in no mood to go and speak with the headmistress over what had happened in the corridor the night before.

"Mr Holmes-" his sentences was cut off by the Slytherin boy swearing and ducking under the desk as the potion blew up. Hissing in frustration he moved away from the overflowing cauldron and vanished the substance with a wave of his hand and a murmured spell.

"Fine," he hissed at the portrait. "I'll go talk to her." Severus watched in amusement as he stalked out of the room and towards the headmistresses office.

John was still in the hospital wing the next day, when he woke up, Mike sat next to his bed stifling a yawn. He gave John a small smile when he saw that he was awake.

"Hey Mike," John said quietly, with a glance around the room, half expecting Sherlock to be pacing and up and down. For all that he could sit in one place for hours on end, he was very restless. "Has-" he started, but stopped when Mike guessed his question and shook his head. John had told him the day before about Sherlock, and what had happened that night.

John frowned, and wondered what was going on with Sherlock.

"You feeling better?" Mike asked him.

John shrugged. "My head does, but my leg still feels a bit off. The matron says it's completely healed but," he shrugged again. "I dunno. It's weird. I'll be let out either today or tomorrow, right in time for classes," his expression showed just what he thought about missing his weekend and having to go to classes.

Mike gave him an amused smile. "Yeah, tough luck. Maybe the teachers will give you some slack?" At John's raised eyebrow, Mike had to agree it was unlikely.

John was discharged from the hospital wing the next day, he missed morning classes but was told to go to his afternoon ones. He lazed down to the great hall at lunch time, most of the school was still in class but some sixth and seventh years had spares and had come down to lunch early.

Eventually the hall filled up, and John watched as Sherlock completely the ignored the Gryffindor table and sat down at the Slytherin's to the surprise of the Slytherins sitting there, who glanced between Sherlock and John with curious expressions trying to figure something out.

"John," Mike said warningly as John got to his feet to go over to the Slytherin table and confront Sherlock. "Not now, do you want to start a scene?"

John hissed. "He's ignoring me!"

"Well go after him when he leaves, but don't start it in front of the whole school. They were wondering enough without a shouting match to go with it, sit down."

He did, grumbling the while and proceeded to spend the rest of lunch making sure that Sherlock didn't slip out while he wasn't looking.

Once he stood up, John was gone, following him out. Eyes followed them out of the hall. "Sherlock!" he called, once he hit the foyer. The Slytherin boy ignored him. "Sherlock!" he shouted angrily. "Will you stop and talk to me."

Sherlock stopped and turned slowly. "What Watson?" he drawled.

"Don't you 'what Watson?' me," John growled at him. "I haven't been Watson to you since first year. What is your problem?"

"You."

Sherlock resisted the urge to close his eyes as John blinked in confusion at him. "What?" the other boy said, staring at him.

"Are you deaf as well as dumb?" Sherlock asked him, keeping his tone bored. I'm sorry John, he thought as a flicker of hurt flashed across John's face. But this is the only way. You can't be hurt, you can't be used against me, if we aren't friends anymore.

And since John was unwavering loyal, Sherlock would really need to hit him to break that.

"Sherlock… What is going on? Brooke hasn't got you has he?"

Sherlock snorted. "Does it look like he has? Whenever Brooke took over a person their whole demeanour changed, you should know that, he took over you. Does it look like my demeanour has changed?"

John shook his head slowly. "You're just acting strangely."

"Is it strange Watson?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Strange to how I usually act around you yes, but strange to how I act in general? Isn't how I act around you strange to usual?"

John's eyebrows drew together with a frown. "What are you saying…"

"Surely it isn't that hard to figure out, or are you really as stupid as I thought you were. I was acting, all that time around you, trying to become friends."

"Why?" he whispered, though Sherlock could tell he didn't quite believe it yet, but there was a hint of doubt in his eyes.

"Because it caused the school to leave me alone to my own devices, because you'd vouch for me. Got me out of trouble, out of being a potential suspect for attacks, because I was this strange kid that no one talked to. But once I had a golden Gryffindor friend, I was safe. "

"You – you were behind those attacks?"

"Because I'd admit if I were," which was basically a confession, though not one that could be proved. Believe me John, Sherlock thought desperately. Believe my lies, so I don't need to keep making them worse.

John shook his head. "You're not Brooke, that's impossible. I was next to you all those times the students were attacked."

"Accomplices Watson. But it wasn't me. Though he was right, I am wasting my time hanging around you. You've served your purpose. And there is only a little over a year left of school. I can manage without the nauseating halo of the golden Gryffindors," his expression turned to one of distaste.

"You. What," he stared.

Sherlock stared coldly back. "Why else do you think I would hang out with a mudblood?" He was half expecting John to lunge at him. John's expression flickered from confusion to anger to complete hurt, and he just stared. His mouth open, and his eyes full of hurt. "Nice seeing you," Sherlock drawled, and turned and walked away. Once he was faced away from John, he squeezed his eyes shut for a second and hid a sigh.

I'm sorry, he thought again. So very very sorry. But it is the only way to do this John.

John was waiting for Sherlock to apologise, or if to not apologise just to slip back into his life like usual, with no comment as to what had happened. But a week passed and Sherlock did no such thing, ignoring the Gryffindors with ease, and a with a sneer at John if the two ever caught each others eyes.

As the second week passed John was starting to think that maybe Sherlock had meant it, maybe he had been being serious. That he hadn't just suddenly lost his mind.

And it hurt. It hurt to watch Sherlock just disappear out of his life like that. He really had no idea what had happened, one moment he had been there and everything had been fine, and the next. This.

He was having trouble concentrating in his classes, because his mind kept slipping towards Sherlock, and there would be the boy in the back corner of the room, and it reminded John of how he was in first year, but worse. Because he was older, and with age came a crueller streak.

John wasn't the only one that had noticed, there was a lot of quiet murmurings about how he'd turned vindictive. Because usually his comments weren't purposefully cruel, he just stated facts and they came out that way, but it felt different this time. And even Sally Donnovan snapped at John one lunch time to go and make up with him, because he was intolerable at the moment. John just shrugged in response, and moved his food around his plate with a fork.

He was almost relieved when they hit exam season, because the stress of those exams took his mind off Sherlock, or at least, part of his mind. It was hard to study sometimes, when your study partner wasn't sitting next to you.

Ugh. It's a bit shorter than usual, and not as good as I was hoping this chapter would be but I really wanted to get it up because I haven't updated in a little while. Because of life and school and everything else.