The House-Elf Liberation Front

Once everyone, bar Cas, finally returned to Gryffindor Tower, Fred and George had thrown a party in Harry's honour, with mountains of food, flagons of pumpkin juice, and bottles of Butterbeer scattered over ever surface. They let off a few Wet-Start fireworks, so the air was filled with sparks and stars. Dean Thomas put up several, impressive banners that he had drawn himself, most depicting Harry circling the Horntail, but a few showed Cedric's face on fire.

They all settled into the party, chatting happily and eating the food, until people began asking Harry about his golden egg.

'Blimey, this is heavy,' Lee Jordan said, lifting it from the table Harry had set it on. 'Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!'

'He's supposed to work out the clue on his own,' Hermione said swiftly. 'It's in the Tournament rules…'

Dean leaned down and muttered in her ear, 'He was supposed to figure out how to get past the dragon on his own, too,' and she grinned sheepishly.

'Go on, Harry, open it!' several more people echoed.

Lee passed it to Harry, and he dug his fingernail into the groove that ran all the way around it. He prised it open, but it was completely hollow, and a horrible, wailing shriek filled the room. Everyone covered their ears, including John, though it sounded a little muffled to him, but he couldn't work out why.

'Shut it!' Fred bellowed.

'What was that?' Seamus gasped as Harry slammed the egg shut.

Neville had gone extremely pale. 'It sounded like someone being tortured!' he exclaimed. 'You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!'

'Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal,' George said. 'They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing… maybe you've got to attack him in the shower, Harry…'

'Want a jam tart, Hermione?' Fred said, offering her one.

She looked at it suspiciously.

'Don't worry, we haven't done anything to it. It's the custard creams you have to watch out for-'

Neville choked and spat out the one he'd just taken a bite of.

Fred laughed. 'Just my little joke, Neville.'

Hermione took a jam tart. 'Did you get all this from the kitchens?' she asked.

'Yep,' said Fred, grinning at her. 'The house-elves are dead helpful. They'd bring me a roast ox if I said I was peckish.'

'How do you get in there?' Hermione asked in a casual, innocent sort of voice.

'It's easy,' said Fred. 'Concealed door behind a painting of a fruit bowl. You tickle the pear and it giggles, and-' He stopped and looked at her suspiciously. 'Why?'

'Nothing,' she said quickly.

Before Fred could say anything else, Neville caused a distraction by turning into a large canary.

'Oh - sorry, Neville!' Fred shouted over the laughter. 'I forgot - it was the custard creams we hexed!'

Within a minute Neville had fully moulted, and even joined in with the laughter.

'Canary Creams!' Fred shouted. 'George and I invented them - Seven Sickles each, bargain!'

Sherlock, however, had not noticed, and John found him in a corner, staring into space.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

'I recognise that sound,' Sherlock said.

'You recognised that?' John said.

'Yes, but I can't remember.'

John blinked in surprise. 'You can't remember?'

'No.'

'You?'

'Everyone forgets things sometimes,' Sherlock said grumpily.

'But-'

'I'm fine. Stop.'

John sighed, and moved away. 'You can be such an arse sometimes, you know,' he said.

'That's a core aspect of my personality, John, I would have thought you would be used to it by now,' Sherlock shot back.

Sherlock eventually went back to his own dormitory, and the rest of them stayed up well into the night to enjoy the party.

A few days later, Castiel still hadn't returned to class, and Dean began to worry. No matter how many times he asked Gabriel, he could never get a straight answer, and the one time he asked John to look, all he said was, 'It's private. Gabriel says he's fine and that's enough for me.'

'Does that mean you know, or you haven't looked?'

'It means I haven't looked,' John said stubbornly.

Then one morning, Dean went down the breakfast, and there was Castiel, a stack of books next to him at the table, a goblet of pumpkin juice, and a bowl of half-eaten, cold porridge.

'Hey, are you all right?' Dean asked, sliding into the seat next to him.

'Yes,' Cas said, without looking up from the book he was reading.

'What are you doing?'

'Catching up on the classes I missed.'

Dean examined what little he could see of Cas's face. He looked pale, and there was a twitch in his cheek.

'Cas-'

'I'm fine.'

'Can I help?'

'Help?' Cas finally looked up, confused by Dean's offer, purple ringing his eyes.

'Yeah, what do you need to catch up on? I did fourth year already, maybe I can help.'

Cas opened his mouth, but then a letter dropped in front of him. He looked at it curiously, then his eyes widened in horror, and he tried to push himself away from it, but it exploded, sending a wave of heat outwards. Cas's books flew everywhere, one narrowly missing hitting Dean in the face.

He waved the smoke away. 'Cas!' He heard nothing but a whimper, so he reached out to grab Cas's hand, but Cas snatched it away, crying out. The smoke cleared and Dean saw Cas's hands were badly burned, and Cas staring at them. 'What should I do?' Dean asked.

'M-m-my pocket,' Cas said hoarsely.

Dean hastily dug into Cas's robes until he found a small pot of leftover burn paste. He untwisted the cap and scooped out the paste, dabbing it on Cas's wounds. 'Stay still,' he murmured, Cas's hands jerking at his touch.

Gabriel appeared at the table, but Dean didn't take notice of him until Cas's hands were covered in the paste.

'What the hell was that?' Dean asked, once he was finished.

Cas looked as if he was going to throw up and shook his head.

'Wait, I remember this. There was a kid, years ago, who kept getting these letters. Was that you?'

Cas nodded.

'Who were they from?'

'Not now, Dean,' Gabriel interrupted. 'We have to get him upstairs.'

Cas shook his head. 'No.'

'No?'

'I'm going to class.'

'Cas, you can't go to class,' Dean said incredulously.

'I can.' Cas fumbled with his wand, then waved it and said, 'Accio.' His books returned to him, then he repaired them, so they looked as though nothing had happened. He gingerly opened his bag and levitated the books inside it. He then levitated the bag itself and put his arms through the straps. 'I'm fine,' he said.

Dean and Gabriel gaped at him, but he simply walked away.

'Who were the letters from?' Dean asked Gabriel.

Gabriel hesitated, but sighed. 'Our sister, Lucy.'

'Your sister? But she disappeared. Does this mean she's back?'

'I don't know, Dean,' Gabriel snapped. 'I have to go.'

Dean groaned in frustration. 'Why can't I get a straight answer around here?' he said to no one in particular.

December arrived with wind and sleet, forcing everyone into the castle and their warmest robes. Outside lessons were a nightmare, not knowing whether they would lose their fingers to frostbite, or to the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Hagrid attempted to find out whether or not they hibernated, but judging by the mess they made of the crates he prepared for them, they did not.

Trelawney's room ended up being the warmest in the castle, so they were more than willing to put up with her dramatic predictions in order to sit in her classroom comfortably.

Harry now found the whole thing a lot more entertaining now that Ron was once again there to sit through it with him, though John remained as exasperated as he had always been.

John was leaning back in his seat, staring at the ceiling, one double Divination lesson, listening to Harry and Ron snigger through Trelawney's explanation of the various ways Pluto could disrupt everyday life.

'I would think,' she said in a mystical voice that did not conceal her annoyance, 'that some of us-' she stared meaningfully at Harry, '-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-'

'You know, the urge to consult the orb has never once overpowered me,' John muttered to Harry and Ron, who struggled to control their laughter.

'-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?'

'An ugly old bat in outsize specs?' Ron muttered under his breath.

'Death, my dears.'

John rolled his eyes.

'Yes,' said Trelawney, nodding impressively, 'it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower… ever lower over the castle…'

'Ah!' John gasped, leaning forward. A sharp jolt shot through his chest, and something flashed across his vision, but it was gone too quickly for him to grasp it.

'Is everything all right, dear?' Trelawney asked in concern.

'Yeah,' John said, rubbing his chest and wincing uncomfortably. 'Fine.'

At the end of the lesson, Harry and Ron went off to find Hermione, but John went to track down Sherlock, hoping they were thinking the same thing.

They bumped into each other on the stairs leading down to the Entrance Hall.

'Outside?' Sherlock said immediately.

John nodded, and they both braved the bitter cold outside.

They made their way to the edge of the Forest, where John always felt stronger, as well as for shelter from the biting wind.

'Do you think the curse is wearing off?' John asked Sherlock, sitting down next to a wide tree trunk.

'Only one way to find out. Try and see the second task.'

John frowned doubtfully. 'That's quite far away.'

'It's the only way we'll know for sure,' Sherlock said. 'We know someone was blocking you from the first task, if the curse is still in effect, you won't be able to see the second.'

'I might not be able to see it anyway.'

'I think you'll be able to tell the difference.'

John nodded and closed his eyes, bracing himself. First, he imagined the golden egg, the clue and only connection to the second task. He held an image of it in his mind and tried to follow it, but he jerked as he hit what felt like a wall.

'Keep going.'

John nodded and tried to push past it, and to his surprise, felt it waver. It didn't break, but he caught a glimpse of something dark and moving on the other side, before snapping back to himself.

'Not bad,' Sherlock said approvingly. 'How are you feeling?'

'Cold,' John said. 'It's wearing off, but it's not gone yet.'

'Only a matter of time, then. Shall we go in?'

John hesitated, gazing through the trees into the darkness. He hated how chaotic everything was inside the castle, and how hard it was to see anything through the swirl of emotion and entangled futures. It was always clearer in the Forest. He sighed and got to his feet. The closer he got to the castle, the more he could feel himself being tugged in all directions. He hoped the curse would wear off soon, then he could at least feel a little more in control.

He was deep in thought as they crossed back through the Entrance Hall, so much so that he jumped violently when Moody passed him and said, 'All right there, Watson?'

'Yes, sir,' he said, gathering himself. 'Sorry.'

'No need for that. You've clearly got things to think about.'

'Yes, sir.'

Moody walked away, and John and Sherlock carried on up to Gryffindor Tower. It was warmer in there, so John took off his cloak and draped it over one of the chairs, choosing to lean on it rather than sit on it.

Dean was already there with Castiel, getting his help on his Astronomy homework.

'Hey, guys,' he grinned, tossing the parchment aside.

John smiled. 'I thought you were getting Katie to help you with your homework,' he said.

'Yeah, but that's not actually to do homework. Cas is helping me actually get it done so I don't fail my O.W.L,' Dean said.

Cas scowled, but so Dean couldn't see him. John sniggered, but stopped at Cas's expression.

'Maybe you could have a look for me,' Dean grinned. 'See how well I do.'

'Nice try,' John smiled. 'It's too far away.'

'Lame.'

John laughed, but then was accosted by a blinding pain in his head. The whole room vibrated, blurring the alarmed faces looking at him. 'Sherlock!' he cried, holding his head. 'What's happening?' Then he recognised the sensation and panic rose in his chest. 'No,' he stammered. 'No, no, no, not again.' He was yanked away from the room and fell through images upon images, none of them clear, and all slipping away too quickly. Drawn ever further, he couldn't find his way back, until he felt Sherlock in the distance.

'I'm here,' his voice whispered. 'Come to me.'

He gratefully followed it as well he could, only faltering a few times, until the common room slowly came back into view. He gasped, shaking and sweating. Sherlock was holding his hand, and Castiel was kneeling in front of him. He slumped back in his seat, heart racing. 'W-what's happening to me?'

Sherlock shook his head.

'I'm losing control, aren't I?' he looked around at the other two frantically, both of them wearing grim expressions. 'The curse isn't wearing off, it's getting worse, isn't it?'

Sherlock grimaced, unable to reassure him.

'John-' Dean began.

'I'm scared.'

'John, just breathe,' Dean said. 'We'll figure this out, won't we?'

Cas nodded fervently.

John ran both his hands through his hair. 'I hate this. I hate this!'

Sherlock rubbed his back. 'It's all right,' he murmured.

'How is it?' John demanded, turning on him with wide, fearful eyes. 'There are so many ways this power could go wrong, and now someone's trying to force it to happen.'

'I won't let it,' Sherlock said in a quiet voice.

'How?' He looked at Sherlock desperately, but Sherlock said nothing. He pushed himself away and stumbled over to the portrait hole, bumping into Harry coming through it, but not stopping.

'What's wrong with him?' Ron asked, throwing himself down on the sofa.

'Nearly lost him again,' Sherlock mumbled.

'What happened?' Hermione asked.

'The curse on him is getting stronger.' Then Sherlock too departed.

'That's worrying,' Hermione said once he'd left.

Cas shrugged. 'I don't see how we can do anything about it, unless we know who's doing it. I've never even heard of a curse that can block a Seer, let alone how to counter it.'

'Maybe Sam will find something,' Dean said thoughtfully. 'Where have you three been, anyway?'

'The kitchens,' Ron said. 'Hermione's trying to convince them to demand fair pay and time off.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'They should have the right to fair pay and time off, same as the rest of us-'

'Anyway,' Ron interrupted before Hermione could begin talking about S.P.E.W, 'it turns out that Dobby works here now.'

'Really?' Cas said, face lighting up.

'Who?' said Dean.

'The House-elf that tried to warn us about the Chamber of Secrets,' Cas explained.

'He's still wearing that tie you gave him,' Ron said.

Cas smiled, pleased.

'Winky was there too,' Hermione said. 'Crouch's elf. She didn't seem quite as pleased about working at Hogwarts as Dobby did.'

'She wouldn't, would she? Loves Crouch more than anything. Don't see why though,' Ron said. 'Same reason Percy does, I suppose.' He sniggered thinking about it.

John did not return to Gryffindor Tower that night, and Sherlock found him the next morning, curled into a ball at the base of a tree not far into the Forest. He was asleep, but shivering violently, and snapped awake when Sherlock touched him.

'It's me,' Sherlock said, grabbing him by the shoulders.

His cheeks were red and his eyes bloodshot, tear tracks still visible down his face.

'You're freezing. Come back to the castle-'

'No.' John scrambled away, wrapping an arm around the tree trunk. 'I can't. Don't make me.'

'You can't stay here.'

'Why not? I feel better here.'

'You can't mean that.'

'But I do. Please, Sherlock, don't make me go back.'

Sherlock gathered him in his arms, and he sobbed into Sherlock's shoulder.

'I can't do it,' he wept.

'I know it hurts,' Sherlock said, 'but we can't fix it if we don't go back.'

John shook his head. 'I can't,' he whispered.

'At least come to Hagrid's,' Sherlock suggested. 'You need to warm up. It's too cold out here.'

John pulled away and wiped his face. 'Okay,' he said eventually. 'Hagrid's.'

Sherlock helped him up and over to Hagrid's hut. He knocked on the door, and Hagrid was surprised to see them, but let them in.

Sherlock sat John down and wrapped a blanket around him, while Hagrid made them some tea.

John sipped it gratefully, still shivering slightly.

'John…'

John shook his head again. 'No.'

'But you have to-'

'I don't have to do anything.'

Sherlock thought about it for a moment. 'What about the others?' he said. 'What about Harry? He's still in the Tournament, and he still needs us.'

John groaned and Sherlock held his hand.

'You must be brave, John. We can solve this.'

'I- I don't know how.'

'Neither do I, but we have to try.'

John held his head in his hands, but eventually nodded. 'All right,' he said, voice muffled by his fingers. 'Okay, I'll go.'

Sherlock smiled, relieved. 'That's more like it.'

'Yeah, well, if I die, it's your fault.'

'You're not going to die.'

'Says you.'

'Yes. Says me,' Sherlock said firmly.

John reluctantly finished his tea, thanked Hagrid, and exited the hut. He bit his lip, staring up at the castle.

'Be brave, John,' Sherlock repeated.

John took a deep breath, and lead the way back.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to Lady among the trees for the review :) see you all again next time