Disclaimer/ Author's Note:I've throughly depressed myself now... shouldn't have listened to the Sherlock Series Two soundtrack "Prepared To Do Anything." I'll live. Dear Lord, now I have to cheer myself up.
I know my grammar is atrocious, none of you have mentioned that though. *Looks at Alex* Maybe one person :P I feel I should tell you all, I only just passed my English GCSE. Mainly because I hated the subject and during those lessons I'm pretty sure I was doodling or wishing I could be in Maths.
Next weeks updated might be a little delayed, that all depends on this weekend :\
Thanking you Sam for pre-reading this for me.
I still own absolutely nothing you see before you! It all belongs to Ben and Jerry's Ice-cream, A German Shephed, Starkid, the guy from Horrible Histories who portrays Caligula, Dick Turpin, the cow in a field (take your pick, there's plenty of them), the Go Compare man (God I hate tim), the people from TOWIE (I hate them more than the Go Compare man -_- ), Scrat from Ice-Age, Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat, Bill Nighy, Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman, Daniel Radcliffe (I'm amazed that he wasn't first on this list!), Tom Felton, Chicken Nuggets and the Queen.
I have no idea what any of that was about, I was just listing things that came into my head. This all belongs to Joanne Rowling, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Warner Bros. and the BBC.
Oh yeah! One last thing! AB Feta :D to you too :)
Message in the Stars
They were studying star charts during Divination; the class was constantly interrupted by giggles from Harry and Ron as Trelawney tried to explain how Pluto could disturb everyday life.
'I would think that some of us,' Trelawney glared at the pair of boys over by the window. 'Might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it and I gazed into its crystalline depths… and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?'
Ron muttered something that the rest of the class couldn't hear and Harry tried to fight the urge to laugh. John glanced over his shoulder curiously at them.
'Death, my dears.' Trelawney said in an impressive whisper. Lavender and Parvati squealed and nearly toppled off of their pouffes in horror. 'Yes, it comes ever closer, circling overhead like a vulture, ever lower… ever lower over the castle…' Her eyes snapped on Harry, who was yawning in the corner. Sherlock grinned.
'Dear me, Harry. The amount of times you seem to have died in these two years alone.' Sherlock called loudly. 'You'd think your little killer might've given up by now. Ah well, I'll tell him to try harder.'
The room rang with laughter, Trelawney, Lavender and Parvati threw Sherlock a scandalised look.
'I'm coming around to check your progress.' Trelawney said haughtily.
It was nearly the end of the lesson when she reached Sherlock and John.
'Let see then.' Trelawney leaned over John's star charts and read the notes he had made. 'Ah… yes, the inner eye seems to have possessed you today Mr Watson…'
'Someone call the exorcist.' Sherlock winked at John as Trelawney glared at him then returned to the star chart.
'Yes… look here… suffering… loss… but this one here –' she pointed at one of the markings on the chart. 'This may indicate that the thing you lose will return to you… that's right, look…' She pointed at another marking. 'Happiness. You have a rough road ahead of you, my dear.' Trelawney finished solemnly. Sherlock snorted. 'Well let's see yours then Mr Holmes.' Sherlock slid his chart across the table. She examined the diagram for five minutes before pointing dramatically and the small marks and whispering 'Here! This star's position collaborates with the position of Pluto, as I explained earlier!' Lavender and Parvati squealed with excitement and moved towards Sherlock and John's table to achieve a closer look. 'This indicates… a fall.' Trelawney continued in a dreamy voice. 'Yes… look! A huge drop, right there.'
'I'll be sure to walk around with a parachute.' Laughed Sherlock.
'But –' Trelawney looked at him, her face lined with concern. Lavender peeped a glance at the chart and gasped before hastily leaning towards Parvati; whispering what the chart foretold. Both girls then looked at Sherlock; their expressions mirrored Trelawney's. 'These two here – they indicate death and according to this one –' her finger slid from one of the marked stars down to another dot which was labelled "Mars". 'This one tells us that you have a choice –'
'At what price?' Sherlock enquired in mock enthusiasm.
'You must lose something that is truly precious to you.'
'I think she's grown a liking to you.' Harry joked as he joined Sherlock at the foot of the stepladder ten minutes later. 'You'll have the same relationship as us soon.' Harry motioned towards himself and then the ceiling.
'Don't say that, it makes me feel guilty.' Sherlock grinned. 'I'm afraid the feeling isn't mutual. I suppose I can predict her death for her if she wishes though.'
'And what would your prediction be?'
'I'll take one of those crystal balls and shove it down her throat.'
'That's quite mild for you.' John said as he ascended from the trapdoor. 'I thought you would push her out of a window or something.'
'No, she shoves her predictions down our throats, so I thought I'd shove one down hers. An eye for an eye.' Ron joined them at the bottom of the stepladder looking slightly put off.
'Let's get out of here. Lavender and Parvati are on their way. They're making predictions for everything!' Ron shook his head in a disbelieving manner and then led the way down the corridor. 'They mentioned something about that Beauxbatons girl and said "Good luck!" then they wouldn't stop giggling, I wish they would give a straight answer instead of acting all mysterious.'
'I have something to say to you all.' McGonagall's irritated voice rang through the silent class. She was still glaring at Harry and Ron who had been messing around with some of George and Fred's fake wands minutes before. 'The Yule Ball is approaching – a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open to only fourth years and above – although you may invite a younger student if you wish.' Sherlock saw John's face light up out of the corner of his eye.
'I see how it is.' Sherlock muttered quietly to him.
'Dress robes will be worn.' McGonagall continued. 'And the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight. Now then, the Yule Ball is, of course, a chance for us all to – er – let our hair down.' Lavender Brown giggled so hard that she had difficulty silencing herself without being noticed; other members of the class smirked at the comment too but were cautious enough to stay quiet. 'But that does not mean that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way. Potter – a word, if you please.'
The bell ran and students rose to their feet, chatting excitedly about the Yule Ball.
'I'm going to –' John started.
'Go and find Mary, I know.' Sherlock finished.
'You don't mi –'
'Of course not.'
'Are you all right?'
'I'm fine, are you going to go find Mary or what?'
'See you at dinner.' John hurried down the corridor leaving Sherlock to lean on the wall next to McGonagall's door. Ron and Hermione had already gone down to dinner, leaving Sherlock quite alone. He stood there listening to the muffled conversation between Harry and McGonagall.
'I sent you my owl.' The soft voice appeared out of nowhere. 'I thought you might've sent one back by now.' Sherlock looked around, there he stood his Slytherin robes hung smartly on his frame, his shoes were highly polished so that Sherlock could see his own reflection in them, his dark hair cut short and lustrous; James Moriarty. Moriarty cocked his head to one side, staring curiously at Sherlock; looking much like an innocent child. 'Do you not remember me? No?' A grin spread across Moriarty's face. 'I'm Jim, remember? I was in the Hospital Wing when you were there during our second year, right after your little encounter with Vincent Crabbe.'
'I remember.' Sherlock replied softly. Moriarty had accompanied Molly when she went to visit him in the Hospital Wing. The Duelling Club set up by Lockhart went out of control and Crabbe had launched himself at Sherlock because of a witty remark.
'It's strange how people forget others so quickly. I suppose that my first impression was quite fleeting.' Sherlock didn't respond, Moriarty had always given him an untrustworthy impression. Sherlock felt that the smart appearance was used to mask his real personality, to give him an almost unreadable façade. With a last smile Moriarty left; sweeping down the corridor without a backwards glance. Sherlock stared after the other boy trying to pinpoint what made him dislike Moriarty so much. He barely noticed the door beside him open.
'Hey Sherlock.' Harry articulated as he closed the door to the Transfiguration classroom. He followed Sherlock's gaze. 'What's wrong?'
'It's nothing. Thought I saw someone I knew. Dinner?'
Harry shrugged and followed Sherlock.
'Who was it?'
'No one important.'
Sherlock sat in a comfortable armchair before the fire in the Ravenclaw common room with a book in his lap while John sat in the armchair opposite him; looking intently at the marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. The older Ravenclaw students were still roaming the corridors and the younger students sat around the common room; discussing homework, playing chess, finishing diagrams and essays for Herbology or practising levitation charms and disarming.
'Take a good look John.' Sherlock said as he idly flipped the page of his book. 'This is what a sophisticated working place looks like. You won't get this in the Gryffindor common room.'
'Hm.'
'I take it that you are going to the ball with Mary?'
'How'd you guess?'
'You've had that stupid grin on your face all evening.'
'Why don't you ask Molly?'
Sherlock stared at John for a while in silence.
'Molly?'
'Yes Molly. You know? Hufflepuff girl who hangs out with us –'
'I know who she is.'
'Then why don't you ask her?'
'How do you know I haven't asked someone already?'
'You're Sherlock Holmes. You haven't asked anyone.'
'How do you know someone hasn't asked Molly?'
'Better ask her before someone else does then.'
John didn't talk about the Yule Ball again. He knew that convincing Sherlock to ask Molly (Or anyone for that matter) to go to the ball with him would be a complete waste of breath. They sat in Flitwick's class playing Wizard's Chess, for the tiny professor had given up with his lesson plan as the class were too excited about the Yule Ball.
'I swear you're cheating.' John muttered.
'No I'm not.' Sherlock grinned as John swiped his broken bishop from the board. 'I have to go to the Owlery this evening.'
'Why?'
'So I can learn to fly.' Sherlock's voice drawled with sarcasm. 'I'm sending a letter to Lestrade.'
'Greg? Greg Lestrade? The Auror?'
'No, the fairy. Yes the Auror!'
'Why?'
'Isn't it obvious?'
'You want to tell him about the tournament?'
'Yes…'
'But he'd already know.'
'He would've also acted by now…'
'So you're going to tell him to get off his backside.'
'I'm going to tell him what I think.'
'Which is?'
'One of Voldemort's supporters has managed to get into Hogwarts. That's who put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire… they must have cursed the Goblet, only Dark Magic could do that… whoever did it must've confused the Goblet into thinking that there are four participating schools. If Harry was the only candidate for the fourth school –'
'Then the cup would have no choice but make him compete.' John finished he prodded the protesting Queen towards one of Sherlock's Knights
'Don't move me there!' The miniscule Queen shrieked. 'Can't you see his rook?'
'So who do you think it is? Karkaroff?' John smiled maliciously as Sherlock's Rook whacked his Queen around the head with the Rook's shield. 'That'll shut her up.'
'No. Karkaroff's too cowardly to rejoin the Death Eaters, he's the reason half of them are in Azkaban. It's someone else. Pity about the Queen.' Sherlock poked the chess piece. 'She's only concussed.'
'She'll live.' John flicked his Queen off of the board and continued to play.
