Chapter Ten: A Job For A Gryffindor

"Shhh!"

Christine stopped abruptly, having finally caught up with Sherlock. He was leaning around the stairwell; the giant castle door was looming ominously in front of them. The three people who they were stalking like cats were chatting amongst themselves in low tones; Christine caught a fragment of their conversation.

"You can't seriously believe him!" The short one named Crowley was saying.

"Hey, he is a parselmouth thingy," Lucifer shrugged, "that's gotta account for something, right?"

"He did –"

"Shhh!" Lucifer hushed Gabriel, "not here!"

After a few glances around them, one by one they slipped out the door, Sherlock moved forward to follow them.

"Wait..." Christine grabbed his arm, "I don't think we should do this."

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows.

"Like, what if we get caught?" She said in an exasperated tone, "I just started here and –"

"Are you scared?" Sherlock said these words as if they tasted sour in his mouth.

"No," she huffed, "I just don't feel like we should –"

"There's no we," Sherlock loosened her grip on him, "there's just me, you're only here if you want to be."

She looked around, considering her options, she knew Sherlock was frustrated by the time she was wasting. Every second was time in which the group could get away, should she risk being expelled from the most wonderful place she had ever been to follow these people?

Sherlock sighed and began walking away, opening the door and slipping out. With one last glance around, Christine resigned herself to fate and followed him.

The sun had set over the edge of the forbidden forest, in the dusk, the shadowy figures disappearing into the trees were hardly visible but where her weak eyes couldn't see, Sherlock was able to point them out.

"There," he squinted, "we're going into the forest."

"At this point, I can't even protest."

Her hands were shaking and her heart rate was far above normal, at this point a Gryffindor would be charging in regardless of danger, but she was a Ravenclaw-Slytherin hybrid, and either way, courage wasn't in the package. If Sherlock was afraid he certainly didn't show it, instead he seemed calm and collected, but with a certain kind of manic energy about him. She followed his quick pace into the terrifyingly tall and black trees; soon the light from the castle was swallowed by the leafy nightmares – although the thought of the phrase "leafy nightmares" was a comforting hilarity.

After a few minutes of blindly following Sherlock, who obviously was using some super smart way of tracking the other students, they stopped right before a clearing. Christine peered around a particularly large oak tree to see four dark silhouettes standing in the middle. Their conspicuously loud voices drifted through the night, thinking they were completely alone.

"… place to meet," the tallest one was saying, she recognized Lucifer's voice, "I really love the interior decorating."

"Thanks," the fourth member of the group drawled, her heart jumped up her throat at the familiarity of the second voice.

"James."

"Moriarty."

Sherlock and Christine whispered this in different tones at the same time, hers in disbelief, his in conviction.

"So, reiterate here will ya?" Lucifer continued, "Because I don't retain information I don't really care about."

Although she couldn't see James' face, she was sure that Lucifer's words caused an unpleasant smirk. His response was laced with a kind of cyanide, killing his interlocutor's ego instantly.

"Don't forget what kind of privilege I'm giving you, with the power I have, killing you and your friends would be like squashing flies to me. Your obvious lack of moral compass made me think that you were a perfect candidate for partnership," he accented the word partnership in an acidic manner, "but… if that's not the case, I'll continue on her own."

"Jeez no nee –"

Gabriel, whose frustration was marked in his quickened speech, cut off Lucifer.

"He gets off on his own ego, just restate the terms of your agreement."

James sighed deeply before replying.

"I'll deliver names, you get them where I want them when I want them, and in return, you are granted immunity, along with any friends you wish."

"That's risking a lot, what if we get the blame?"

"That's kind of the point, if you get caught I can continue my work unabated, once I kill again they'll realize you are innocent and no harm no foul."

"Fine," Lucifer sighed, "Whaddya say, short-stack?"

The shortest one, Crowley, who until that moment had remained silent, now spoke.

"Sounds fine to me."

"Opinions, thoughts, concerns? Speak now Gabbie or forever hold your peace."

Gabriel shrugged.

"Sure."

"Glad we're settled, I'll give you a name soon."

With this final statement, James sauntered off into the woods. Christine's eyes followed him as he retreated into the ominous darkness. What did he mean, "Kill again"? James was going to kill people? She hardly had time to question this before Sherlock grabbed her hand.

The group had left the middle of the clearing and were now heading straight towards them. Sherlock pushed her behind the tree so that they were invisible to the three students, merely seconds before they entered the thicket.

"Never took him as the murdering type," Crowley commented, "maybe stealing or conning, but killing? Personally, I don't trust him."

"But you're an idiot," Lucifer pointed out, "I think we've got ourselves a sweet –"

A loud crack notified Christine that the branch she was leaning on had snapped, and it notified the three young men that they were being spied on.

"Run," Sherlock whispered, the adrenaline in her system gave her the ability to sprint alongside Sherlock through the woods, the sound of Lucifer, Crowley, and Gabriel pursuing them spurred her on. However, as if she was in some cheesy horror movie, her foot was caught in a tree root, and Christine gracefully sprawled onto the ground. Sherlock kept running.

"Hey!" She screeched in desperation at his retreating figure, "asshole!"