The Hungarian Horntail

A few days after the wand weighing ceremony, John was again late down to breakfast. As he leapt down the last few steps of the staircase, Harry stomped past him, red in the face, closely followed by Hermione.

'What-?'

But they were already gone, so John continued on to the Great Hall. It took him a few moments, but half way down the hall, he noticed that sniggers and whispers were all being directed at him.

'What's going on?' he asked.

Sherlock, Dean, Sam, and Cas were all sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table, all failing at concealing their own amusement.

Dean passed him that morning's Daily Prophet, with the headline: Triwizard Champion. Most of the front page was dedicated to a picture of Harry. John began to read the article underneath, but Dean said, 'No, not that,' and turned the paper to another page headed: A Seer in the Works, accompanied by a picture of John staring into the distance.

'What the hell is this?' John demanded, heat rising up his neck.

'Why don't you read it and find out?' Dean said, barely able to contain himself.

John Watson, a small, unassuming boy of fourteen, has been blessed with the power to see the future. A gift that many wizards would give anything to posses. Rita Skeeter gets the inside scoop on what it's really like from Mr Watson himself.

'It's very different from being a normal Seer,' says John. 'I'm the most powerful one in the world, so it's really difficult. Sometimes I can hardly stand the pain.'

'That's not what I said!' John said hotly.

'Keep going,' said Dean.

Watson, however, is also a close friend of new Triwizard champion Harry Potter. There are many that are concerned that a boy with this sort of power would be far too easily tempted to cheat. When asked whether or not he was involved with Potter's miraculous inclusion in the Triwizard Tournament, Watson only had this to say.

'Maybe I did help him. I have no idea. It's so hard to keep in touch with reality these days.'

'Unbelievable!' John exclaimed.

'Dude, you gotta read the whole thing.'

This sort of power appears to be far too much for one so young to handle, but it's not all doom and gloom for Mr Watson. Despite his thin grasp on reality and his near-constant debilitating pain, there appears to be a blossoming romance between Watson and his companion, young Sherlock Holmes.

'They're always together,' says close friend Colin Creevey. 'Sherlock's in our common room almost every night. Sometimes he doesn't even leave.'

When Watson himself was delicately asked about his relationship with Mr Holmes, he was surprisingly frank.

'Sherlock and I are meant to be,' he said, smiling for the first time in our interview. 'Sherlock doesn't know it, but I do. We'll be together one day, you just wait and see.'

So there you have it, loyal readers. We shall indeed see what the future holds for our young Seer, but until then, we can only wait.

John looked up from the paper, horrified, face burning, and heart in his throat.

No one around him could stand it any longer, and Sherlock, Sam and Dean all burst out laughing.

'You - you don't believe any of this, do you?' John asked Sherlock.

'Oh, John,' said Sherlock, wiping away tears of laughter. 'Of course not. I just can't believe you let Rita Skeeter interview you.'

'Yeah, well, apparently I am a complete nutcase,' John fumed, getting to his feet. He threw down the paper in disgust and turned to leave.

'John, wait,' said Sherlock. 'Tell me again how we're meant to be.'

John exclaimed angrily, but wordlessly, and he stormed out, followed by Sherlock howling with laughter.

'You can't make this stuff up,' Dean laughed.

'Clearly you can,' Sam said, pointing at the paper and sending them both back into fits of laughter. 'Hey, look at that, someone's owl's late.'

They looked up to watch it, but then realised it was flying towards them. Castiel's fists clenched slightly on the table in front of him.

'Wait, isn't that Dad's owl?' Sam said.

They both sat up straighter, all traces of humour wiped from their faces, and Dean hastily pulled the letter off the owl's leg, causing it to hoot reproachfully.

'Yeah, yeah, get outta here,' Dean said, shooing the owl away. He ripped the letter open and eagerly began to read, with Sam reading over his shoulder. The further through the letter they read, the further their expressions dropped. Sam's eyebrows furrowed and Dean's face went completely blank but for a slight tightening around his lips. Then, without any warning, Dean screwed up the letter and slammed it down on the table.

'God damn it!' he yelled, smacking his bowl and goblet off the table, letting them clang to the floor, then stamping off the way John and Sherlock had gone.

At Dean's outburst, adrenaline rushed through Castiel's body until he was gasping for air, hands clutching the front of his robes so tightly his knuckles turned white. Then Sam's voice came through to him.

'Cas, hey, Cas,' he said gently. 'Look right here, look at me.' His face swam into focus.

'Sam,' Cas gasped. 'I - can't-'

'I know, I know, but it's okay. Dean taught you the technique, right?'

Cas managed a nod.

'Okay, great. Will you do it with me? Let's just give it a try, okay? I'll count, come on… Deep breath, in-two-three-four, hold-two-three-four, out-two-three-four…'

It took a few rounds, but Sam helped Cas get his breathing down to a normal rate.

'I'm sorry,' Cas whispered.

'No, no, don't be. I get it.' Sam watched him sympathetically. 'Are you okay? Maybe you should take the day.'

Cas shook his head. 'If I took a day off every time I… Well, I'd never be in class. What's wrong with Dean?' he asked, pulling himself together.

Sam sighed. He grabbed the letter that Dean had crumpled up and put it in his pocket. 'This letter says that Dad has to stay on the road for a while. There's been a resurgence of Demons…' Sam trailed off.

'Because of Lucy,' Cas finished.

Sam grimaced. 'Kinda, yeah.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It's not your fault.'

Cas looked away.

'Seriously, Cas, it's not your fault.'

'And this is why Dean's upset?'

'Yeah. He thought that once Dad had taken care of Azazel and his gang, then he could come home and we'd be a real family…'

'Sam…'

'It's okay. Really. Dad's never been a staying still kind of guy. I doubt it would have been a good idea for him to come back here anyway.' Sam smiled a little too brightly and got up. 'Don't worry about Dean. He'll be fine. Bye Cas.'

Cas watched him go, waiting for the shaking in his legs to subside before he went to his lessons.

John could barely stand walking around Hogwarts over the next few weeks. The Slytherins had all taken great delight in both his and Harry's articles in the Prophet, and several of them made kissy faces at him whenever they saw him. Many others, including Malfoy, would deliberately run into him in the hallways.

'Just making sure you're in the real world,' they would say gleefully as they walked off.

Meanwhile, Hermione became furious with the lot of them, and repeatedly went between them and Ron to try and force them to talk again. Harry outright refused, as did Sherlock and Dean. John almost felt like talking to him a few times, but then someone would glare at him and he would be reminded that everyone, including Ron, believed that he had helped Harry cheat his way into the tournament.

'Come on, John, someone has to make the first move,' Hermione pleaded with him.

'Yeah, and I think it should be Ron. He's the one in the wrong here,' John said. 'Besides, he won't listen to me, I'm in on it, remember. It's probably going to take Harry being almost killed for him to get his head out of his backside.'

'That's not funny, John,' Hermione frowned.

'It's not meant to be funny, Hermione. Honestly, he's the least of my concerns right now, and I'm not about to waste my energy on someone who refuses to be convinced.'

Hermione huffed. 'You're just in a bad mood because of that article.'

At that moment a few Slytherins walked past, sniggering and making faces at him.

'Yeah, I am.'

Hermione sighed. 'Fine. Are you coming to Hogsmeade with us?'

'Who's us?'

'Me, Harry, Cas and probably Sherlock.'

John shrugged. 'Okay, then.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked off to the library.

The Saturday before the First Task, they all met up in the Entrance Hall. Sherlock and Castiel were the first to arrive.

'No Dean?' Sherlock asked.

Cas nodded at the other side of the room and John turned around to see Dean walking past with a laughing Katie Bell.

'Ah.'

Cas grimaced slightly, but didn't say anything.

They were joined shortly by John, and then by Hermione, who was accompanied by what John thought was an almost transparent, misty cloud.

'Where's Harry?' Cas asked.

'I'm here.' Harry's voice seemed to come from within the cloud.

'He's under the Cloak,' Hermione said, clearly irritated.

'Okay, then, let's go,' said John.

As they walked to the village, most of the nasty comments were directed towards John, though they were easier to ignore while they walked as a group. Hermione, however, was still not impressed.

They spent a little time in Honeydukes, but Hermione snapped as they came out.

'Come on, Harry, please just take off your Cloak for a bit. No one's going to bother you here.'

'Oh yeah?' Came Harry's voice. 'Look behind you.'

Rita Skeeter and her photographer friend had just emerged from the Three Broomsticks.

John groaned, but there was nowhere to hide, and she came over to them sporting a dazzling smile, and shimmering slightly.

'What do you want?' John said shortly.

'Oh, I just wanted to see how you were getting on. Have any visions lately?' she asked innocently.

John burst into derisive laughter and shook his head. 'That's funny,' he said to her. He then walked away, forcing the others to follow him into the Three Broomsticks, where she wouldn't possibly be able to hear what they were saying, packed as it was by Hogwarts students.

Cas bought them all a Butterbeer each and they sat in a less densely packed corner, passing Ron on the way.

Though no one could see Harry, it didn't stop them from discussing what dangers the champions might face during the First Task.

'I don't suppose you've seen anything?,' Harry asked John nervously from under the Cloak.

'No, sorry. I'm not really supposed to try and look either.'

'I don't see why you shouldn't,' Sherlock said. 'Who would know?'

'I don't want to get in trouble,' said John.

'I think it's more about keeping Harry alive at this point,' Cas said quietly, taking a sip of his Butterbeer.

'You all think I should cheat?'

They all nodded and Harry said, 'I wouldn't mind.'

John looked around furtively. 'Give me your hand,' he muttered.

Harry's arm appeared on its own and looked as if it was floating in mid-air. John grabbed it and closed his eyes. The Task was the following Tuesday, so he attempted to focus on that. He felt more than he saw, and what he did see was too hazy for him to make out. It immediately began to hurt his head, but he forced himself to stay in it. Everything around him blazed with heat and he felt himself sweating, but waited, trying to see through.

'John, stop.' He heard Sherlock's voice, but ignored him. It got hotter and hotter, and then suddenly the air around him was searing. It took his breath away and his skin felt like it was on fire. He screamed before he could stop himself and Sherlock yanked his hand away from Harry's.

The pub reappeared but he was still burning up and he couldn't force his lungs to take in enough air.

'Help me cool him down,' he heard Sherlock say, and he was blasted by cool air from three different wands. A goblet of water was shoved in his face and he gulped down what he could. His chest loosened enough for him to breathe better, but was still extremely tight.

Nearly everyone in the pub was staring at him, but he couldn't move. At some point, Hagrid had come in with Mad-Eye Moody, and they both came over to their table.

'Let's get him outside,' Moody growled.

Hagrid lifted him up and carried him outside, and they were followed out by the rest of their group.

Once outside, John finally went limp in Hagrid's arms, and Harry pulled off his Cloak.

'Did he see anything?' Moody asked Sherlock.

Sherlock shook his head. 'Whatever it was, it was extremely hot.' Sherlock put a hand to John's cheek. It was still blazing. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Rita Skeeter watching from a little way down the street, and her photographer discretely raised his camera.

Cas reacted first. 'Expelliarmus!' A jet of red light shot across the street and hit the camera, sending it flying.

The photographer swore loudly, but they ignored him.

'We should get him to the hospital wing,' Cas frowned. 'We can't let him stay at this temperature.' He conjured a stretcher, and Hagrid gently lowered John into it.

Hagrid then pressed a note into Harry's hand and turned around. 'Do yeh need help up to the castle?' he asked loudly.

'We should be fine, thank you, Hagrid,' Cas said, taking charge of the situation. 'We don't all have to go,' he added.

Harry shrugged. 'I don't really feel like sticking around. Hermione?'

'No point in staying on my own,' she said. 'I've got more things I can do in the library.'

Cas nodded, then waved his wand and the stretcher moved forward.

They walked through the village quietly, and once they'd passed the last building, Harry unfurled the note that Hagrid had given him.

Meet me at my cabin tonight at midnight. Wear your cloak.

'What does he want to meet you that late for?' Hermione asked.

'No idea,' said Harry.

Hermione frowned. 'I don't know if it's a good idea. It might make you late for Sirius.'

'I think you should go,' Cas said. 'It's clearly important, otherwise he would never ask you to leave the castle so late at night.'

'That's a good point.'

At that moment, John jerked in the stretcher, almost tipping it over, and whimpered.

'What's happening?' Cas asked, gritting his teeth, trying to keep it floating.

'A nightmare, I think,' Sherlock said. He pressed his hand against John's burning forehead. It was the same vision he'd had moments ago, but thankfully without the heat this time. 'Just a nightmare,' he confirmed.

Harry and Hermione accompanied them up to the hospital wing, to make sure John was okay, but eventually drifted off on their own.

As dusk fell, John's temperature began to drop back down to normal with help from Castiel, and several, almost frozen, blankets that Cas tucked around him. Now satisfied that he would be okay, Cas turned to Sherlock and handed him a goblet of water. Sherlock took it but didn't drink it.

'He's going to be fine,' Cas said gently.

Sherlock nodded. 'I know that.'

'But you worry?'

'Of course.'

John turned over in his sleep, mumbling slightly.

Cas hesitated before he spoke next. 'Maybe you should tell him,' he suggested.

Sherlock didn't say anything at first, then, 'Perhaps you should take your own advice,' he said, a slight, scathing edge to his voice.

Cas flinched, then sighed. 'Whatever you say, Sherlock.' Cas walked away and began tidying up the hospital wing, then placed a jug of water at John's bedside.

Sherlock waited patiently for John to wake up, slowly sipping his water.

It wasn't long until John began to stir. He was confused at first, but then realised what had happened.

'How are you feeling?' Sherlock asked.

'Hot,' John said. 'Is there water?'

'On your bedside table.'

John pushed himself up and drank two goblets before he felt any better. 'Well, that was fun,' he said once he was finished.

Sherlock chuckled quietly.

'Weird vision.'

'I think you were being blocked again,' Sherlock said. 'Whoever is doing this doesn't want you to help Harry.'

'There's a surprise. Just what I get for trying to cheat,' John said, rubbing his eyes. 'Whatever it was, it was hot.'

'What could the champions be facing, that's hot, will attack the champions, and Hagrid knows what it is?' Sherlock said. As soon as he'd said it out loud, he knew. 'Dragons,' he murmured.

John groaned, knowing that Sherlock was right.

Cas heard what he said and shivered. He remembered Norbert, and could only imagine what a fully grown dragon might be like.

'We should tell Harry,' said John.

'I think Hagrid's already doing that,' Sherlock told him. 'So technically, you won't have done anything wrong.'

'That's comforting.'

'Are you staying here for the night?' Sherlock asked.

'Yeah, why not. I don't really feel like going anywhere.'

Sherlock smiled. 'I'll stay with you.'

Cas rolled his eyes, then wandered off down the ward, where his own bed waited.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to Sherlock Harry Winchester, DaughterofMagic3 and VegasGranny for the reviews! Hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you in two weeks!