Sherlock's first instinct was to see if it was a spell making his adversary invisible-but if it was, it was a very good one. No matter what he tried, he couldn't break the enchantment. And the only spell he knew of was a Disillusionment Charm, and as far as anyone was aware Dumbledore was the only wizard alive who could cast one that was powerful enough to render him completely invisible. Everyone else was just...easy to miss. They blended in with the environment, but if you knew what you were looking for, you would be able to see them.

The only creature of sorts that Sherlock knew could turn invisible at times was a ghost-but they couldn't inflect physical damage. Unless...

Thestrals, he thought to himself. While he read and heard about death daily, he had never actually seen it. Which means they're invisible to me. When domesticated they are quite gentle creatures, but Sherlock knew that they were classified by the Ministry of Magic as dangerous. There was a creature that was hell-bent on hurting him, and he couldn't see any bloody part of it.

There was nothing he could do to reverse that-not directly at least. But if he changed his environment around, maybe he could help himself out.

"Fumos," he murmured to himself, letting a stream of smoke issue from his wind. He pulled his robe up over his nose to minimize how much he breathed in, and watched it spread through the air.

There-ahead of him and a bit to left, there was a light area in the midst of the smoke, where something solid was lurking. Sherlock slowly watched the form become more defined-

Wait. That wasn't a thestral. Thestrals didn't stand upright on two legs, or look even remotely like….that. They were supposed to look like horses. Whatever this was, it was no type of creature Sherlock had ever seen before.

Shaking with terror of the unknown, the boy hastily took a step back-and tumbled into the darkness.

As he felt the air rushing around him, he had to admit one thing-falling was certainly a very efficient means of travel, so long as you were still alive when you reached the bottom. Sherlock fell for what he felt was an almost comically long time, twigs slashing at his skin here and there. Fortunately, he didn't encounter any very large branches, and by the time one did rush up to meet him, he had managed to cast a spell to slow his fall. He landed, not very gracefully, but still landed on a twisted old branch of oak.

He took a deep breath and leaned against and perpendicular branch growing out of the one he was standing on. This entire thing was turning out to be a disaster. He had been so confident in his abilities and his intelligence he figured that the task wouldn't be any harder than the others-easier even, without anyone else to hold him back-but he really had no idea what he was doing, and that terrified him.

As if to mock his fear, there was suddenly a burst of light from somewhere ahead of him in the darkness that lit up the branches in brilliant outlines of gold.

Sherlock took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, and then plunged forward through the branches, heading for the source of the battle.


John and Mycroft both froze in their patrol around the perimeter of the chasm as rays of pale light shone from somewhere in the depths of the darkness.

"Shit," John muttered under his breath. "Should we do something?"

Mycroft shook his head. "It doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"How do we know when it does mean something?" the Gryffindor asked, frustrated and anxious. "Sherlock could be dying down there!"

"My brother isn't a complete idiot, nor is he totally incompetent when it comes to dueling. He and Jack can hold their own against the other two. Our job is to keep an eye on Nevamann. He's our concern. We can't let him out of our sight, or we put Sherlock in more danger than he's already in. Besides, this might not just be about my brother-it might be about the rest of the school. With Dumbledore gone, it's also our job to take care of the rest of the students."

John looked at Mycroft in surprise-the elder Holmes had always seemed much less human than Sherlock. He was quite shocked to hear him talking about defending Hogwarts.

Mycroft seemed to guess what was going through John's head. "Just because I'm not fond of people doesn't mean I want them to die. Besides, I'm Head Boy, this is part of my job."

Despite himself and all his worries, John smiled at the defensive tone in Mycroft's voice. The two brothers were more alike than he had thought.


As Sherlock got closer to the source of the light, he could begin to hear the tell-tale sounds of battle-shouting, crashing, cursing.

He vaguely wondered if he should send a message to John-or to anyone, for help. There's no need for that yet, he assured himself. I'm just going to see what's going on. I'm sure it's something that I'm capable of handling without help.

The Ravenclaw knew that if John could hear him now, he would have a thing or two to say, and a name or two to call him. But he wasn't going to drag John or anyone else into danger needlessly. If something were to happen to a person he cared about because of him, he would never forgive himself.

When he was close enough to make out the outlines of two figures silhouetted against the flashing lights, Sherlock paused and crouched in the shadows, trying to analyze the situation.

One form was definitely feminine-which meant that whoever he had seen before the attack by the invisible create wasn't Irene. Shivering at the idea that he might have been that close to Moriarty without even realizing it.

But that would mean that Jack was fighting Irene, and the boy didn't stand a chance. Sherlock weighed his options-if that was Moriarty fighting Irene, he should just leave them and head to the center. He would have only Jack as an opponent, and he could end this quickly. If it was Jack, the boy was certainly in trouble-but that meant that Moriarty was still out there somewhere. In that case, he should still move on and attempt to find, and stop Moriarty before he executed whatever it was he was planning.

As Sherlock crept closer to determine the second figure, however, a shout reached his ears. "Sherlock! Help!"

His head snapped up-that was Jack's voice. So Moriarty was out there somewhere. He should leave now and find the boy before it was too late. It's not like he owed Jack anything. But as he moved to go deeper into the darkness, all of sunlit days he spent in happiness with Jack flashed across his mind. The boy was his friend, once. Did that not matter to him at all, simply because it was long past? Because Jack hurt him once, was he going to abandon the boy to possible death?

He hadn't thought that Irene was dangerous, but he could easily have underestimated her. He couldn't deny that he had felt some form of fondness for the girl, and despite how much he tried, he had been known to let that get in the way-Jack was a living example.

Gritting his teeth, Sherlock flung himself forward, and pointed his wand at Jack. "Protego!"he shouted, casting a shield in front of the boy, just in time to deflect Irene's hex.

Sherlock landed gracefully on the branch of a large, twisted oak next to Jack. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," the boy replied, panting. "Thanks."

Sherlock rose to his feet, and raised his wand to Irene, meeting her gaze sharply. She looked back at him, eyes wide with alarm. "You?" She whispered, and Sherlock rose an eyebrow at the confusion in her voice. Did she honestly believe that he would not stand against her if she attacked his friend?

Stupefy , he thought, but Irene easily blocked the jet of red light with a lazy flick of her wand. "Jack, you need to get to the center of the maze!" he called over his shoulder.

"What?" came the shocked reply, while Sherlock shot a paralyzing jinx at the girl and deflected her charm. "I'm not leaving you!"

"You have to! You can't take Moriarty on your own. You need to beat him to the center. If you win, this ends, and he doesn't have the chance to do whatever it is he's plotting."

"But-"

"Go!" He sighed in relief as he heard Jack scrambling away behind him.

Fixing his eyes on his adversary, Sherlock saw a look of dawning comprehension and horror on her face. "Expelliarmus!" Sherlock muttered, catching the witch off guard. With a cry, she was knocked backwards and her wand flew from her grasp into the air.

Accio, the boy thought, and the wand flew into his hand. "Wait!" Irene called desperately. "You have to listen to me-"

Her pleas were cut short with a gasp of shock, as Sherlock snapped her wand in half with one quick motion.

"You fool," she whispered. "Do you really trust your friends so blindly that you'd set to fire everything you love just so they won't leave you?"

Sherlock cocked his head at her, his brow furrowing. "What in the world are you on about?"

"You don't know, do you?" her gaze softened as she stepped closer to him.

Sherlock pointed his wand at her. "Don't come any closer," he warned sharply.

She stopped, but did not look away from his gaze. "I'm not your enemy, Sherlock. Jack is."


John and Mycroft paused in the shadows as Nevamann froze, looking down contemplatively at the maze. He pointed his wand into the darkness and muttered something under his breath-John was too far away to hear the incantation. A flock of small blue birds burst from the tip of his wand and plunged into the shadows without making a sound. John doubted that anyone in the audience had noticed.

"What was that?" John murmured to his companion.

"He's probably scouting. Wait a few minutes. The birds will probably return to him, and report the situation."

"'Report the situation'?" John repeated incredulously. "They're birds."

"They're magic birds," Mycroft responded, with an exasperated sigh. "Wait and see what happens. What we do depends all on him. If he stays, so do we. But if he goes into the darkness…so do we."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. Things will get much more exciting next chapter! Please review and let me know what you think. Also, I'm considering writing a sequel that would be more traditional Sherlock mystery-solving. What do you all think of that idea? Would you be interested? I'd love some feedback. Thanks as always for your support! Love you all. -Mell