Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw

It seemed as if it was the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship.

Ron was so enraged by Hermione's repeated attempts to defend Crookshanks, that not even Fred and George could find a way to cheer him up. Harry, however, did manage to take his mind off Scabbers for a while, by inviting him to watch Quidditch practice- his first time with the Firebolt.

Cas and John were also eager to see it in action, so they, with Sherlock and Dean, accompanied Harry and Ron down to the Quidditch pitch for the final practice before the Ravenclaw match.

Madam Hooch was overseeing the Gryffindor practice to keep an eye on Harry, so she sat in the stands with Ron.

They watched Harry fly around the stadium at breakneck speed, becoming nothing more than a blur that caught the Snitch within seconds of its release.

Madam Hooch had fallen asleep by the time practice had finished, so the team returned to the castle, while Harry handed the Firebolt to Ron.

Dean leaned against the railing dividing the stands from the pitch, and watched Ron land slightly less than gracefully. Sherlock came to stand next to him just as Castiel took off.

'He's pretty good,' said Dean, watching Cas skim over the grass and pull sharply up to do a few smooth loops.

'Not a flier?' asked Sherlock as Cas touched down and handed the broom to John.

'Hell no,' said Dean. 'I hate flying.'

John was a little unsteady at first, but soon he was weaving between the goalposts and zooming the length of the pitch.

'Not bad, John,' said Harry as he landed. 'You should try out for the team. You look like you might make a good Beater.'

'Yeah, okay,' John scoffed, pink in the face from the wind. 'Let me know when you don't need Fred and George anymore.'

Night had fallen before Madam Hooch awoke and told them off for not waking her sooner. She insisted they go back up to the castle, and they encountered Crookshanks on their way.

Ron picked up a stone to throw at him, but he disappeared before Ron could do anything. He spent the rest of the walk raging about Crookshanks.

John woke up the next morning in an incredibly good mood and practically skipped down to the Great Hall.

Harry and the team were already there, admiring the Firebolt that had carefully been placed in the middle of the table.

'What're you so pleased about?' Harry asked.

John shrugged and grabbed a piece of toast.

'Sure you can handle that broom, Potter?' came a drawling voice.

Malfoy had come over for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.

'Yeah, reckon so,' Harry said casually.

'Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?' said Malfoy. 'Shame it doesn't come with a parachute – in case you get too near a Dementor.

'Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy,' Harry said, without missing a beat. 'Then it could catch the Snitch for you.'

The Gryffindors all laughed loudly and Malfoy stalked away.

A hand squeezed John's shoulder and he turned to see Sherlock siting down beside him.

'You look happy,' Sherlock said.

'Yeah,' John grinned. 'I feel pretty good today.'

Sherlock looked at him curiously, then smiled and shook his head.

'What?' said John.

'Nothing.'

'Tell me.'

'I don't want to spoil it for you.'

'Spoil what?'

'John, really, patience is a virtue. Don't worry, you'll find out soon.'

John huffed and watched the team leave to much applause.

Dean appeared behind them. 'Can't wait to see Harry destroy them on that thing,' he said happily. 'Oh, is Cas not with you?'

'No, I thought he was with you?'

'Maybe he's with his brother.'

'No, Gabriel's over there.'

Sherlock turned to John. 'Do you know?'

'Why would I know?'

'I mean, can you…tell?'

'Oh, for God's sake,' John said, realising what Sherlock was asking him. 'I don't know where he is, I don't have special powers, just stop with that, okay? Let's just go to down to the pitch.' John stood up and walked out of the hall. His mood had dropped dramatically and he couldn't bring himself out of it, despite the beautifully clear weather outside.

Castiel was already in the stands, saving them seats, and didn't answer when asked where he had been.

The teams walked out onto the pitch, Ravenclaw in blue and Gryffindor in scarlet. The captains shook hands, and they kicked off, Harry zooming higher and faster than anyone else.

'They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt, which Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor,' Lee Jordan, the usual match commentator, called through the megaphone. 'According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national team at this year's World Championship-'

'Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on with the match?' interrupted Professor McGonagall.

'Right you are, Professor, just giving a bit of background information. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and-'

'Jordan!'

'Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for the goal…'

Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, was tailing Harry closely, cutting him off at every turn. John smirked as Harry hesitated to speed past her. 'I think he likes her,' he said to Sherlock.

'Mmm,' Sherlock said, watching Alicia Spinnett score.

Fred and George were whizzing around after each of the Bludgers while Lee gave an update. 'Gryffindor lead by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now. See it turn- Chang, who has interestingly chosen to use her Comet today, rather than one of the team's Nimbuses, is just no match for it. The Firebolt's precision-balance is really noticeable in these long-'

'JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!'

Ravenclaw began to pull back and scored more goals.

John glanced at Castiel, who was watching the Quaffle very closely, then at Sherlock. He was paying barely any attention to the match and looked quite bored.

'What's your problem?' John asked, still annoyed with him.

'Nothing.'

'Fine.'

Cho was still marking and blocking Harry at every turn.

Harry went into a steep dive, then pulled sharply out of it, losing Cho almost completely. He sped after what must have been the Snitch, but Cho stopped and screamed.

They looked down at what Cho was pointing at and saw three Dementors gliding onto the pitch.

Dean instinctively moved close to Cas, and John braced himself for the cold dread to wash over him, but nothing came.

Before anyone could think, they heard Harry roar, 'Expecto Patronum!' and a large, silvery stag erupted from the end of his wand. It charged at the Dementor, and at the same time, Harry closed his hand around the Snitch.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded and teachers converged on the heap of black robes that had been the Dementors.

The blonde head of Draco Malfoy emerged from one of the hoods, along with Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint.

A small glow caught John's eye. Castiel had his wand out and it as glowing ominously. He was gripping it tightly and glaring at Malfoy.

'Relax, man,' Dean muttered, slowly pulling Castiel's wand out of his hand and putting it in his pocket. 'It's just a stupid prank.'

Professor McGonagall marched over to the Slytherins with an expression of utmost fury on her face. 'An unworthy trick!' she shouted. 'A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes!'

John grabbed Castiel's arm and gently tried to pull him away. 'Come on, let's go up to the common room. I bet Fred and George will have something fun planned.'

Cas yanked his arm away and stalked off.

'See you up there,' said Dean, going after him.

'He'll be fine,' Sherlock said to John.

John shrugged and they walked back up with the rest of the Gryffindors.

The atmosphere in the common room was buzzing with excitement now that Gryffindor would play in the final against Slytherin.

Fred and George disappeared, then returned with plenty of food and drinks that they'd snuck in from Hogsmeade.

Even Castiel began enjoying himself once Dean convinced him to try a glass of pumpkin fizz and the bubbles went up his nose.

Hermione was still studying in a corner and Harry went over to talk to her, but she ran off to er dormitory crying when she heard Ron say loudly, 'If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of these Fudge Flies. He used to really like them…'

Later on, John was stood watching Fred and George creating a small fireworks display in the middle of the room, laughing raucously when they formed a rude hand gesture.

'Oh yeah, why were you being so weird at the match?' he asked Sherlock, remembering his apparent boredom.

Sherlock looked directly at him, eyes glittering, and John squinted at him.

'You're not telling me you knew we'd win? How could you possibly..?'

'I didn't know,' he said, shaking his head. 'You did.'

'I think you've had a bit much Butterbeer.'

'Think about it, John. Why were you in such a good mood this morning?'

'Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?'

'It's all right. You don't need to be able to recognise it or make sense of it. That's what I'm for, remember?' Sherlock smiled at him warmly.

John felt uncertain and oddly fuzzy behind the eyes.

Sherlock's gaze suddenly sharpened. 'Your nose is bleeding,' he said, alarmed.

'What?' John touched the tip of his finger to his lip. It felt wet, and when he pulled it away, it was red and shiny. 'Huh.' His knees gave out and he collapsed to frightened gasps around the room.

Sherlock held him up until he regained his footing. 'I think it's time to go to bed,' he said, guiding John towards the stairs.

John made no resistance and they left the party behind. He sat heavily on the bed. Sherlock sat opposite, looking at him curiously.

'What?' said John, now feeling quite drained.

'Can you see anything?' he asked.

'I can see you.'

'No, I mean, can you see anything in the future?'

'Sherlock, please-'

'You've always had "symptoms" before a vision,' Sherlock interrupted. 'Castiel agrees with me.'

'Like what?'

'Headaches, dizziness, fainting. Something always happens when you have a severe bout of these, though the nosebleed is new. Perhaps a sign of your power increasing.'

'Good to know.'

'I think it would be prudent to try and See something.'

John bit his lip nervously. 'How?'

'Close your eyes and concentrate. Try to see through the darkness.'

John nodded, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He tried to focus, but all he could see was black. 'I can't see anything,' he said.

'Keep trying,' Sherlock murmured.

John shook out his hands and tried once more. He thought he saw a flash of grey, but it slipped away before he could tell what it was, if it was anything. 'It's no good. I can't do it.' He opened his eyes and looked hopelessly at Sherlock, framed by the moonlight streaming in through the window.

Sherlock licked the end of his sleeve and used it to wipe away the blood from John's face. 'Perhaps you need some sort of instrument to help you. At least at first. Hermione says you're good with tea leaves.'

'Not really helpful right now, though,' John said, stretching into a yawn.

'No. I suppose we'll find out what it is soon enough.'

'Right. I'm going to sleep. You staying?'

'I can.'

'It's late. You might as well.'

Sherlock responded by pulling out the spare set of pyjamas he kept in John's bedside cabinet.

It wasn't long before both of them were fast asleep in John's bed. Neither of them were disturbed by the other boys coming to bed, despite Seamus's sniggers and Dean Thomas elbowing him to stop.

John slept fitfully, his dreams filled with the rattling of Dementors. One appeared before him and brought its scabby fingers up towards its hood. John somehow knew that what was underneath was horrific, but he was rooted to the spot, unable to turn away. All he could do was watch in terror as it gripped the edge of its hood and pulled…

John's eyes snapped open and he sat up shivering, breathing heavily. Sherlock shifted groggily and John could feel a warm spot on his chest where Sherlock had protectively put his hand. He suddenly became aware of a figure standing over Ron on the other side of the room. He gasped quietly, realising who it was, though he was strangely unafraid. 'Sirius?' he said.

Black didn't hear him, and drew a knife. He slashed at Ron's curtains, then cursed under his breath.

Ron woke up and screamed, and Black fled from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Sherlock jerked awake, and the sounds of the other boys waking up erupted around them.

'What's going on?' Seamus called across the room.

Harry pulled open his curtains at the same moment Dean lit his lamp.

'Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!' Ron said, voice high with fear.

'What?'

'Here! Just now! Slashed the curtains! Woke me up!'

'You sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?' said Dean.

'Look at the curtains! I'm telling you, he was here!'

They all scrambled out of bed and down to the common room, waking up other people in their dormitories.

'Who shouted?'

'What're you doing?'

'Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?'

'I saw him!'

'What's all the noise?'

'Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!'

A few girls came down the staircase, as well as most of the boys.

'Excellent, are we carrying on?' Fred said brightly.

'I'd be up for that!' Dean Winchester called to him.

'Everyone back upstairs!' said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning on his Head Boy badge.

'Perce – Sirius Black!' Ron said. 'In our dormitory! With a knife!'

'Nonsense!' said Percy, looking startled. 'You had too much to eat, Ron – had a nightmare –'

'I'm telling you-'

'Now, really, enough's enough!'

Professor McGonagall appeared, slamming the portrait behind her. 'I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Holmes, why are you even here? Percy, I expected better of you!'

'I certainly didn't authorise this, Professor!' said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. 'I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare-'

'IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!' Ron yelled. 'PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!'

'I saw him too, Professor,' John said quietly.

Professor McGonagall stared at them. 'Don't be ridiculous, how could he possibly have got through the portrait hole?'

'Ask him!' said Ron, pointing at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. 'Ask him if he saw-'

Professor McGonagall pushed open the portrait and went outside. 'Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?'

'Certainly, good lady!' cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

'You- you did?' said Professor McGonagall. 'But-but the password!'

'He had 'em!' said Sir Cadogan proudly. 'Had the whole week's, my lady. Read 'em off a little piece of paper!'

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole. 'Which person,' she said, voice shaking. 'Which abysmally foolish person wrote down the week's passwords and left them lying around?'

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to toe, raised his hand slowly in the air.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to TsubasaKEI, Keysmash5955 and Sherlock Harry Winchester for the reviews.

Just to let you all know, I've actually finished writing this so now it's just a matter of typing it. I'm allowing myself an hour every day to type it and I'm a fast typer, so I'm hoping that updates will be more frequent. In any case, see you all soon!