Hello everybody! K, so later I have a test I gotta take, so I wont be able to update until Saturday at the soonest. Sorry bout that! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

John followed Sherlock into the castle and into the restricted section of the library. He had no idea why he had chosen the library over the common room, but he followed him anyway. When he finally caught up to Sherlock, he gently tapped him on the shoulder. Sherlock turned violently and scowled at John. "What do you want?" he hissed. "First you reject me, now you try to reason with me? I don't want to speak with you John."

John shrunk against the wall and gulped. "Sherlock, please, I'm sorry," he said. "I was just angry because my date wasn't going well, and I blamed it on you. I'm sorry." Sherlock stared at John, wishing he'd just go away. "No," he said blankly. "Just, go."

John didn't want to go, he didn't want to leave Sherlock alone in the restricted section of the library, but he knew that there was really no choice. He nodded and slowly walked off, back to his date. Though, he new that it would be horrible, especially because he knew Sherlock didn't like him anymore.

When John had left, Sherlock picked up a couple of spell books and made his way out of the school, into the forbidden forest. He felt purposeless, without John in his presence, but he knew that this had to be done. After ten minutes of walking, he finally spotted what he had been looking for. A glowing tree that stood no taller than 12 feet above the ground was growing near an unused shack. Sherlock had been here before, and he knew that it was a great place for making potions in secret.

He went into the shack and set the three books that he had picked out on the table. One read "unforgivable Curses", the next read "Transfiguration", and the last was "Forbidden Potions". Of course, he had no use for the Transfiguration one, but he thought that it was alright to give it a shot. "Now," he said to himself. "Lets see how to make a love potion, shall we?"

For hours, he listed what he would need to make it and looked at the instructions of how to do it. When he had finished, the sun was rising. Without thinking, he set off towards the castle, carrying his books.

"Alright class, we're going to swim laps in the stream today!"

The entire class began chattering about how much fun it was going to be, and began asking each other if they wanted to be swim partners. Of course, John was silent, because he had no one to partner with. He didn't mind much, but it was hard recovering from what had happened last night with Sherlock. "He'll come back," he told himself. Somehow, a part of him believed that he would not.

Sherlock was the greatest friend he could ever have, and last night he blew it. Now Sherlock wouldn't even speak with him. True, he and Sarah were still together, but it wasn't the same. He was empty.

"John, do you have a swim partner?"

John looked up to see his teacher in front of him. "No, Professor," he mumbled. "My partner is not here." The teacher smiled. "Well, then I'll get you a new one," she took out a paper and looked it over. "Your new partner for today will be mister Carl Powers."

The whole class turned to look at Carl, the class champion of swimming laps. Whispers of approval broke the silence, but stopped almost immediately. "Now that's settled," the teacher stood up and grabbed her coat. "Lets go." Quickly, the class all got out of their seats and followed Professor Hudson out to the stream.

...

When they got to the stream, Carl took off his shoes and placed them on the grass, then he ran over to the water and dived in. When he came back up, John was swimming beside him. "Hey Carl," he said casually.

"Hello John,' he replied. "Say, where's that Sherlock bloke? I haven't seen him in days."

John forced a chuckle. "Oh, well, you know, he's just bein' Sherlock."

Carl smiled and began swimming towards the other end of the pond. "Hey wait up!" John called and hurried after him. He caught up to Carl and they raced each other back and forth for about twenty minutes before Carl started feeling strange.

It was on their tenth lap, Carl was beating John by a mere meter, and then he stopped. "What is it?" John asked. Carl made a face and pointed to his stomach. "Stomach ache?" He nodded. "Well," John said. "Do you need to rest for a few minutes?"

"No," he said, though it hurt to speak. "Lets keep going." So, struggling, he finished the lap and started the next one. John was to the end when Carl's muscles started twitching, and he felt as if he couldn't hold himself up any longer. He felt water on his lips. 'Oh no, I'm sinking!' he thought. He tried to call for help, but it was no use. It seemed as if the water was rocking him to sleep, and he couldn't hold his eyes open any longer..

He could hear his name being called in the distance, but didn't have the strength to see who it was. 'Goodbye,' he thought, before drifting off into a never-ending sleep.

...

John watched in horror as Carl sunk. Without thinking, he dived in after him. As he made his way farther down, his ears began to pop, and he felt that he needed air. Forgetting Carl, he started to swim back up, but was stopped by the current. Panic surged through him. 'No! Please help me! Someone!' he thought. But it was no use. It was all over.

John closed his eyes and started to drift, when he felt long arms around his waist holding him up. Slowly, he made it to the surface, gasping for air. Next to him, none other than his formal best friend, Sherlock Holmes, surfaced. John realized in horror that he was also dragging Carl along. "Is he... dead?" John gasped. Sherlock laughed. "Don't be so thick, John. Of course he's dead."

John smiled and gave Sherlock a playful shrug. "Does this mean you don't hate me for what I said?" he asked. "Are we still friends?"

"Of course, John." Sherlock answered. "I'll always care about you, and I'll always be your fiend, no matter what you say to me."

John nodded and they both carried Carl back to land. Screams and shouts came from all the students when they realized that Carl was dead. Professor Hudson came over to them and started to sob. "Oh, you poor boys," she sniffled. "Are you alright? Oh, this must be traumatizing for you! Here, follow professor McGonagall will take you to her office and speak with you." Both boys got out of the water, shivering, and went to get towels.

When they got over to the towels, John realized how good Sherlock looked without his shirt on. It sent shivers down his spine just looking at his friend like that. 'No!' he mentally slapped himself. 'I'm not gay!'

John realized he must have been staring, because Sherlock was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He blushed and quickly turned away. When they had gotten their towels on, the two of them set off towards Professor McGonagall's office. "I think I may know who the killer is," Sherlock said.

"Wait," John said, stopping Sherlock. "Are you saying he was murdered?"

Sherlock smirked. "It was Moriarty."