The Parting of the Ways

Sherlock couldn't hold on much longer, but he had one more question. 'Why - how could John see you tonight, if he was cursed?'

'I didn't bother to put it back on when it started to wear off,' Crouch said. 'By then, it was already too late to stop me.' He laughed maniacally, before Sherlock finally collapsed.

Things were hazy for a while, until he felt himself being lifted up and placed on a floating stretcher. Madam Pomfrey must have come for him. John was just barely holding on, but hold on he did.

As soon as Sherlock entered the hospital wing, both of them immediately felt better, Sherlock especially. He pushed himself from the stretcher, and ignored Madam Pomfrey's protests as he pulled a chair to John's bedside.

Castiel was there too, and his presence soothed their pain, though not much in John's case.

John turned his head towards Sherlock, and burst into tears. 'Sherlock,' he croaked.

'Shhh.' He stroked Johns forehead. 'Sleep.'

'I can't.'

Sherlock feel how unstable John was and, using what strength he could get from Castiel, held John's mind with his own. 'I've got you,' he whispered. 'Sleep.'

'You won't let go?'

'I won't let go.'

John nodded, though it was almost indistinguishable from his violent shivering. He closed his eyes. 'I saw them,' he stammered. 'All the other Seers he…'

'Not now,' Sherlock murmured. 'Rest now.'

'This might help,' Cas muttered, passing Sherlock a small bottle of purple potion. 'I can't guarantee it.'

Sherlock nodded, and helped John drink some.

At last, John began to drift off to sleep, and Sherlock concentrated on keeping him anchored, soothing the parts that wavered every so often. He looked around the ward. The real Moody was on his own bed. Several of the Weasleys and Hermione were there, throwing nervous looks at John, but they did not approach. Castiel appeared to have already asked for some space. Dean was there too, standing in a corner with his head in one of his hands.

'Will you stay nearby?' Sherlock asked Cas.

'Of course,' Cas whispered.

'Sherlock,' Hermione mumbled, stepping closer. 'What happened?'

Sherlock shook his head. Even he wasn't feeling particularly up to answering any question, but he opened his mouth anyway. 'You-Know-Who,' he breathed. 'He's back.'

Mrs Weasley gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth. 'It's not true.'

Sherlock shook his head again. Thinking about it hurt. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

John's sleep didn't go undisturbed for long, and it was all Sherlock could do to keep him from disappearing into his nightmares. His body twitched, and his face twisted in fear, his eyes flickering under the lids.

Cas wordlessly handed Sherlock a goblet of water and put a hand on his shoulder. 'He's going to be all right,' Cas said.

'You sound so certain.'

'I am.'

Mrs Weasley shuffled over to them. 'Where's Harry?' she asked.

'I don't know,' Sherlock mumbled tiredly, not taking his eyes off John.

'Does anyone know where Harry is?'

No one answered.

Madam Pomfrey then reappeared, and they all crowded around her, hoping to get some answers.

Sherlock just rested his head beside John, not daring to go to sleep while his mind was still being pulled in so many different directions.

Just then, the door to the hospital wing opened, and in came Dumbledore, Harry, and Sirius in his dog form.

Mrs Weasley let out a muffled scream as she saw Harry. 'Harry! Oh, Harry!'

She started to hurry towards him, but Dumbledore stepped between them.

'Molly, please listen to me for a moment,' he said, holding up a hand. 'Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him, you may do so, but I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly no this evening.'

'Headmaster,' said Madam Pomfrey, staring at Sirius, 'may I ask-'

'This dog will be staying with Harry,' Dumbledore said simply. 'I assure you, he is very well trained.'

Dumbledore waited while Harry got into bed and drew the curtains around him, then approached Sherlock and John. John whimpered in his sleep.

'Professor,' Sherlock mumbled, his eyes barely open. 'We were too slow.'

'No,' said Dumbledore. 'It is I who did not act quickly enough tonight.' He glanced down at John. 'I would very much like to hear what John saw tonight, as soon as he is able.'

'Not much more than Harry saw,' said Sherlock, bitterness tinging his voice.

Dumbledore nodded. 'I would like you to remain here tomorrow, until I have spoken to the school.'

'I don't think he could move much anyway, even if he wanted to.' Sherlock turned his attention back to John, and Dumbledore left. He could John beginning to recover, but the numbness yielded to pain. Sherlock trembled as it rampaged through John, and then himself, and John groaned in his sleep. Though it hurt, Sherlock chanced a short nap, now that John was strong enough to hold himself together, at least for a little while.

It didn't last for long. Sherlock had barely closed his eyes before he and John were woken by a surge of coldness that ran through them both.

'What was that?' Sherlock mumbled.

John's eyes widened and he groaned again, this time more urgently.

'Accio,' Sherlock whispered, Summoning a bowl for John to throw up in, gently rubbing his back as he did so. 'What is it?'

John shook his head, shivering.

Just then, they heard voices shouting outside, and the doors burst open.

Fudge strode up the ward, Snape and McGonagall close at his heels.

'Where's Dumbledore?' Fudge demanded of Mrs Weasley.

'He's not here,' said Mrs Weasley angrily. 'This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to-'

But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

'What has happened?' said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to McGonagall. 'Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch-'

'There is no need to stand guard over him any more, Dumbledore!' she shrieked. 'The Minister has seen to that!'

There was another cold surge, and Sherlock suddenly realised what it was. He glanced at John, who nodded slightly.

'When we told Mr Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events,' Snape said in a low voice, 'he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a Dementor to accompany him into the castle.'

'I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!' stormed Professor McGonagall. 'I told him you would never allow Dementors to set foot inside this castle, but-'

'My dear woman!' roared Fudge. 'As Minister for Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing possibly dangerous-'

But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned out Fudge's. 'The moment that - that thing entered the room,' she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, 'it swooped down on Crouch and - and -'

There was no need for Professor McGonagall to finish. The Dementor had administered its kiss and sucked out Barty Crouch's soul.

Sherlock could feel the pain and fear mounting on John and gripped his hand tightly. 'Shh,' he whispered. 'Calm yourself.'

John shook his head, biting his lip so hard it drew blood.

'By all accounts, he is no loss!' blustered Fudge. 'It seems he is responsible for several deaths!'

'But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore. 'He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people.'

John began to writhe in his bed, sweating and gritting his teeth.

Sherlock dabbed at his forehead with a cloth. He could feel John's mind swirling, but he couldn't see what John saw. He didn't like feeling so helpless.

'Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?' blustered Fudge. 'He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!'

'Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius,' Dumbledore said. 'Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to his full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body.'

John convulsed and shuddered, muttering something unintelligible.

'You-Know-Who… returned?' Fudge spluttered. 'Preposterous! Come now, Dumbledore…'

'No…' John mumbled. 'No…'

'No what?' Sherlock asked. John was getting hazy again.

'As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you,' said Dumbledore, 'we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort - learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins - went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry.'

Sherlock didn't get the jolt he always got from John whenever Bertha Jorkins was mentioned, but he supposed he could have missed it between the waves of agony crashing between them.

'No…' John groaned again, his breathing becoming heavier.

'See here, Dumbledore,' said Fudge, 'You-you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now… certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting on You-Know-Who's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore-'

'No!' John screamed, throwing himself out of bed and stumbling towards Fudge. 'He's back! I saw him. I saw all of them!'

Sherlock scrambled over to John, grabbing his shoulders. 'John, go back to bed…'

'No!' John shouted again, yanking himself free of Sherlock's grip. 'I saw him! He's back! You have to do something!'

Fudge looked bewildered for a moment, then he suddenly seemed to understand. 'You'll be the Watson boy who thinks he's a Seer, then?'

'I am! I am a Seer!' John insisted, pressing his hands to his temples. 'I'm a Seer, and I saw Voldemort and all his Death Eaters. Please!' he is wailed, sinking to the floor. 'I saw him!'

Sherlock dropped down next to John and wrapped him in his arms, rocking him gently. 'Shh,' he whispered as John sobbed into his shoulder.

'I saw him.'

'I know.'

'Listen, Dumbledore, I don't know what sort of school you're running here, but these boys are clearly delusional,' Fudge blustered. 'And frankly, I find it disturbing how you allow them to - to carry on together like this, it's not right.'

An outraged cry ran around the room as all the Weasleys gathered shouted at Fudge.

Fudge looked quite taken aback, then almost frightened as Dumbledore stared him down.

'I will ask you not to speak of my students in that way,' Dumbledore said coldly, 'or I'm afraid I will have to ask you to leave.'

Sherlock and John were no longer paying attention. John was howling into Sherlock's robes, his knuckles white as he balled his fists, and Sherlock stopped holding back his own tears.

Then, the door burst open once more and everyone but John and Sherlock looked up.

'Sam?' Dean said in disbelief.

Sam ran down the ward, shoved Fudge out of the way, and slid down next to John. 'I can help,' he said breathlessly.

Sherlock didn't say anything.

'Watch.' Sam picked up one of John's hands and uncurled his fist. Sam pressed his thumb into the palm of John's hand and squeezed the other side with forefinger.

John's crying immediately stopped and he stared at Sam in wonder. 'How - how are you doing that?' he sniffed.

'I got a bunch of letters from the other Seers earlier,' Sam told him. 'They all saw you, they said you needed help, and I should do this.'

'All of them saw him?' Sherlock asked.

'Yeah. Every single one.' Sam grimaced, then waved Castiel over. 'They sent me this as well, I think it's a list of potions that'll work on him.'

'I think we have some of these,' Cas said, squinting at the list. 'Let's get him back to bed.'

Dean and Cas lifted John up, while Sherlock kept squeezing the pressure point on John's hand. They all walked him back to the bed, ignoring the arguing between everyone else in the room. As soon as he was back under the covers, Cas brought him some of the potions on the list and helped him drink some.

The effect was instantaneous. John fell asleep, relatively painlessly, and he was stable without Sherlock's help. As soon as he was asleep, Sherlock sighed in relief and then abruptly passed out himself.

Cas caught him, Dean took off his shoes, and they both lifted him onto the bed next to John. Cas then drew the curtains around them. 'If these potions work as they should, he should be able to sleep through the night. He'll recover.'

Dean nodded. 'Thanks, Sam.'

'Yeah, no problem.' Sam went over to Madam Pomfrey to give her his list, and Cas put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean jumped, not expecting the touch from Cas. It was still staticky from Cas's regular Shield Charm.

'I'm sorry, Dean,' Cas murmured. 'I know you liked him.'

Dean shook his head. 'Where's Gabriel?' he asked. 'He was Cedric's friend, wasn't he?'

Cas's chin wobbled. 'He's with Professor Sprout and Cedric's parents.'

The arguing suddenly stopped, and Fudge left the ward, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Dumbledore turned to everyone gathered. 'There is work to be done,' he said. 'Molly… am I right in thinking I can count on you and Arthur?'

'Of course you can,' said Mrs Weasleys. She was completely white, but looked resolute. 'He knows what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride.

'Then I need to send a message to him,' said Dumbledore. 'All those that can be persuaded of the truth must be notified immediately, and Arthur is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as short-sighted as Cornelius.'

'Make sure he speaks to Mycroft,' Cas piped up. 'You'll need him.'

Dumbledore nodded.

'I'll go to Dad,' said Bill, standing up. 'I'll go now.'

'Mycroft?' Dean whispered to Cas.

'Sherlock's brother. Head of the Department of Mysteries,' Cas whispered back.

Bill left the room, and Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall. 'Minerva, I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also - if she will consent to come - Madame Maxime.'

Professor McGonagall left without a word.

'Poppy,' Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, 'would you be very kind, and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us.'

'Very - very well,' said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.

Dumbledore made sure the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's had died away, before he spoke again.

'And now,' he said, 'it is time for two of our number to recognise each other for what they are. Sirius… if you could resume your usual form.'

The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.

Mrs Weasley screamed. 'Sirius Black!' she shrieked, pointing at him.

'Mum, shut up!' Ron yelled. 'It's okay!'

Sam looked between them all, extremely confused.

'I'll tell you later,' Dean muttered.

Snape had not jumped back or yelled, but looked at Sirius with fury and horror.

Dumbledore made them shake hands and sent Sirius off to alert Lupin, telling him to lie low there and left wait for instructions.

'Severus,' said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, 'you know what you must do. If you are ready… if you are prepared…'

'I am,' said Snape.

'Then, good luck,' said Dumbledore, as Snape wordlessly swept from the room.

It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

'I must go downstairs,' he said finally. 'I must see to the Diggorys. 'I will see all of you later.'

Dumbledore disappeared, and the room went silent.

Dean sat heavily on the end of one of the empty beds.

'Do you think we should tell Dad about all this?' Sam whispered.

Dean thought about it for a moment. 'Nah,' he said eventually. 'He's too busy with the Demons and…'

'My sister,' Cas finished for him.

'Yeah. Besides, all he'd do about it is make us leave. I don't know about you, Sammy, but I like it here.'

'Yeah, I wanna stay.'

'Me too. All right then, it's settled. If Dad asks, which he won't, we don't know anything about it, and we're not involved, got it?'

'Got it.'

'Awesome, now you can go back to your dorm.'

'What? No, I want to stay with you.'

'Sam, it's no fun in here, and you should be with your House tonight.'

'But - but what about John?'

'You've done everything you can for John tonight,' Cas said gently. 'Now everyone needs a good night's rest, including you.'

Sam pouted and folded his arms.

Cas caught the slightly strained look on Dean's face. 'Go on, Sam. John will sleep until the morning now, you can come back then.'

'Okay,' Sam said grudgingly, before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Dean sighed once Sam was gone, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

'Are you all right?' Cas asked.

Dean shook his head. 'It's just that I - I thought we'd be safe here,' he mumbled. 'I thought Sam would be safe here…'

'We are safe here, Dean,' Cas murmured.

'Are we?'

Cas gave him a sympathetic look then briefly held Dean's hand. 'I know how hard it is to feel safe sometimes,' he whispered.

'That's the thing about being the son of an Auror,' said Dean. 'You never feel safe. Not really.' Dean cleared his throat and shook himself out of it. 'How are you so calm anyway? No offense, but I thought you'd be the first to panic.'

Cas allowed himself a small smile, despite the seriousness of the situation. 'Someone has to keep it together, and I'm usually quite good in a crisis. Usually.' He shifted slightly closer to Dean. 'Give it a couple of hours, and I'm sure I'll be the same blubbering mess I always am.'

'You know, I never think you're a blubbering mess.'

'That's kind of you to say.'

Dean took a deep breath, angry that he had allowed himself to believe in the security of the castle, and, though he wouldn't admit it, terrified that it was all crashing down around him.

'You should get some sleep, Dean,' said Cas.

Dean nodded, staring at the floor.

'Would you like to stay here tonight?'

Dean's face scrunched slightly. 'Yeah,' he said, voice cracking.

'I'll get some more blankets.'

Dean crawled into a bed and let Cas pile blankets over him. Soon, everyone but Cas was asleep.

Cas slowly put out all the torches, walking around the room, flicking his wand. He straightened everyone's blankets and gently stroked Harry and John's foreheads as he passed them, hoping to calm their dreams.

Then, the door opened a crack, and Gabriel slipped inside.

His nose was red, and his eyes were puffy, but he still smiled at his little brother.

'Come sit,' Cas whispered, setting up another bed.

'Looks like you're taking care of everyone tonight,' said Gabriel, looking around at all the occupied beds, and chairs.

'It seems that way.'

Gabriel sat down on the bed. 'It's my fault. I convinced him to enter.'

'No,' Cas murmured. 'None of this is your fault. You couldn't possibly have known what would happen.'

'Yeah, that's what his mom said too.'

'She's right.'

Gabriel ran his hands through his hair. 'What good am I, huh? I couldn't protect him, I can't protect you-'

'You do protect me,' Cas insisted. 'Don't be ridiculous, Gabriel, you and I both know I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you.'

'Maybe…'

'You know I'm right. Go to sleep.'

Gabriel sniffed. 'If you say so, little brother.'

Cas tucked Gabriel in as well. As soon as he was satisfied everyone was secure and comfortable, he finally went to bed himself, though he couldn't sleep through the adrenaline racing through him.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to VegasGranny and Frida521 for the reviews!

Almost two and a half years in and we're closing in on the end. Thanks so much for everyone who's still here, it won't be too long before the next chapter is ready. See you soon!