There you are :) Sorry it's a little later than usual, I went to see Tintin ( Jamie Bell & Steven Moffat, come on ) and it was amazing :)

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed this story, it's really nice of you :) I love you all!

Anyway, enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, the BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

A/N: I'm not english speaking, but I hope this won't prevent you from enjoying the story.

John was sitting in the infirmary, his head buried in his hands. He hadn't slept more than two hours last night but he wouldn't allow sleep to take over. He needed to stay alert, just in case something happened. Mrs. Pomfrey had told him everything would be fine, but he needed to be sure, he couldn't just leave…

He looked up at the silhouette laid on the bed and wondered how it had all happened…

"Something happened. You need to come with me…"

John sat up in one quick movement, suddenly wide awake. "What? What happened?"

"It's your sister."

John jumped out of bed and grabbed his pants. "She fell down the stairs after the Ball. She's in the hospital wing, unconscious."

He stopped in his movements, his pants only half pulled up. He could feel himself getting paler by the second. The rest of their discussion was a blur. He wasn't even sure he heard any of it.

Of course, he knew all too well what had happened. His sister had got pissed at the Ball and she had lost her balance going back to the Gryffindor common room.

He remembered his plan to look after her and swallowed hard. He had been distracted. With Sherlock, and Sarah, and Mycroft, and Greg… He didn't even remember seeing Harriet at the Ball…

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he heard someone coming in. He knew who it was but he didn't take his eyes off his sister's body.

"John? Are you all right?" Sarah's voice was soft but it didn't soothe him in the least.

He bit his tongue trying to calm down but his voice was colder than he had intended. "Yeah, I'm fine. Look, I just really need to be alone right now."

Sarah almost jumped back as if burnt. "Oh. Okay…" She turned to leave but stopped halfway. "I'll be back tonight to check up on you."

John gritted his teeth but didn't answer and Sarah left without another word.

He hadn't meant to snap at her, he usually wasn't rude but this was beyond his control now. He wanted to throw something, he needed something to calm himself on or he was going to snap entirely.

He could feel his throat tightening dangerously, his eyes beginning to burn, his breath coming in short gasps. He knew what was coming but forced the tears back, crying was no use.

An hour later, he heard someone else coming in. The footsteps were regular, light but determined and John knew who this was without needing to hear his voice. He forced himself not to turn around, he couldn't deal with this, not now, not here.

Sherlock grabbed a chair and placed it right next to John's. The Gryffindor opened his mouth to tell him to go away but no sound came out. Sherlock wriggled in his chair and placed his hand over John's, and when he saw that his friend didn't try to move away, he took it in his, intertwining their fingers.

John felt his first tear running down his cheek and literally threw himself at Sherlock. He buried his nose in the Ravenclaw's shoulder, nearly settling himself in his lap and gripping his shirt tight. Then, he let himself go.

Sherlock hadn't moved an inch when John had jumped. Actually, he felt he needed this just as much as John did. He let his friend silently sob in his shoulder, rubbing his hand on his back to soothe him.

"It's not your fault." He finally whispered after a few minutes of silence.

John took a deep breath and nodded softly in Sherlock's shoulder. When he was all cried out, he tried to adjust his body to fit more comfortably on his friend's lap and felt Sherlock tighten his grip on his waist.

Apparently Sherlock didn't want him to leave and that was good, because he wasn't going anywhere.

"I don't want to fight anymore…" He whispered in Sherlock's neck.

"Me neither…"

A few minutes later, John was fast asleep. Sherlock didn't let go, he only moved a bit to leave a gentle kiss on John's temple.

Harriet woke up a few hours later and found her brother at her side, asleep in his best friend's arms. Sherlock had his hand in his hair and was gently stroking it. She knew he had seen her move, but she didn't say a word.

The Ravenclaw turned to her and sent her his best glare, unconsciously tightening his grip on John. Harriet swallowed hard. He didn't need any words, his eyes spoke volumes: Look at what you did to him.

The Gryffindor silently nodded and sat up in her bed, burying her head in her hands. She took a deep breath. "You know it's only a matter of time before he understands." Harriet sighed, unwilling to look Sherlock in the eyes. "Then, what'll happen?"

"The decision is not mine to make."

She chuckled. "Oh you're just as clueless as he is, aren't you?"

Sherlock frowned but shut his mouth as he heard someone coming in.

"Oh. Hello Sarah. Came to look after John did you?"

The Ravenclaw stroked John's hair one last time before untangling the Gryffindor from him. He sat him back in his own chair and got up. He ignored Harriet's stare and nodded to Sarah before leaving the infirmary.

"So, how are you feeling?" Sarah asked a little awkwardly.

Yes, ignoring the elephant in the room. They could do that.

"I'm okay, I guess. I've got one hell of a headache though." Harriet cleared her throat. "Do you think we should wake him up?" She asked nodding towards John.

"He probably would want to know you're fine." Sarah smiled and put a hand on John's shoulder, shaking it lightly. "John? John, wake up."

The Gryffindor woke up with a start, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like 'Shlock'.

"Sarah?" He whispered, blinking furiously. "What are you- Harriet? You're awake."

"Apparently, yes."

John shook his head with a soft smile gracing his lips. "Don't start with me. How are you feeling?" He reached out his hand and grabbed Harriet's.

"I'm fine, John. Honestly."

Sarah cleared her throat. "Er. I should probably leave you two alone."

John's head snapped up as the memories of what he had done came back to him. He really hadn't been very nice to Sarah earlier, and even if he'd been upset then, it was no excuse. He got up and scratched his head awkwardly.

"Er. Could I have a word with you?" Sarah nodded and made her way towards the corridor. "I'll be right back." John kissed his sister's cheek and followed the Gryffindor outside.

Now that he was actually paying attention to Sarah's expression, he could tell something was wrong. She didn't seem upset, per say, she just didn't seem particularly happy with him. "Look, I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier, I was upset and I didn't mean to snap…"

"You said you didn't want to see anyone." She whispered.

Slightly taken aback, John ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. "Yes. That's true. And I shouldn't have snapped at you, I'm sorry if I've…" Sarah slowly shook her head and John closed his mouth. Had he said something wrong?

"I saw him." Her voice was surprisingly calm and steady, but even John knew she was upset now.

"Oh. Did he say something to bother you?" After all, it wouldn't be the first time. Sherlock was known for his lack of skill when it came to social matters.

"No, no. He wouldn't do th…" John raised an eyebrow and Sarah stopped. "Nevermind."

"So, er… What's wrong?"

"You said you didn't want to see anyone."

"Oh." Oh, indeed. Sarah's meaning hit him like a ton of bricks. He… well, he hadn't even thought about that. He had needed Sherlock by his side, he hadn't wondered why or how. It had been one of these truths you spent years trying to deny before they came crashing down on you.

He needed Sherlock when it mattered most. He needed… Sherlock.

"I… yes, but… Sherlock isn't just anyone, he… well, we…" John sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fists. He couldn't quite explain it; somehow he didn't mind being with Sherlock, even when what he needed most was to be left alone.

He could feel himself tearing up again. He understood now. The jealousy. His reluctance when it came to taking things further with Sarah. The warm feeling in his chest whenever Sherlock would nonchalantly intertwine their fingers. The fight. The Ball.

It all made sense. He looked in Sarah's eyes and knew that she understood too. Probably better than he ever would.

He couldn't be Sherlock's friend and Sarah's boyfriend, and if he had to choose between the two, the decision would be painfully easy to make.

"I'm sorry…" He whispered, his voice a little shaky.

"Don't be." And with a soft smile, she was gone.

Sherlock was walking through the park, his hand ruffling his hair, a small smile gracing his lips now and again. He simply couldn't help it. Knowing that everything was back to normal between him and John was such a relief he was even ready to forget about Sarah for a while.

The lack of John in his life had been exhausting. So tiring in fact that he had been on the verge of apologizing to him. He didn't feel sorry for what he had done, he was only trying to make John see, to force his little brain to understand that he didn't belong with Sarah. He couldn't, not when Sherlock could lo…

He simply didn't.

But if apologizing to John could have made them friends again, he would have gotten on his knees in front of the whole school. Fortunately, he didn't have to now.

Sherlock looked up and felt his smile die down on his lips. "What do you want?"

"There's no need to be so aggressive, Sherlock." Mycroft walked up to him, grinning like a cat.

"I knew the day was going too well. Obviously, it couldn't last." The Ravenclaw groaned.

"Ah. I assume you've got some good news for me, then."

Sherlock turned back to glare at his brother. "No."

"Don't be so secretive, Sherlock. You know how much Mummy would want us to get along."

The Ravenclaw stopped dead in his tracks, closing his eyes tightly. Why did Mycroft always have to play the Mother-card? "Fine, say your piece and sod off."

Mycroft tilted his head and gave him an amused smile. "I'm very happy to see that things are better between you and John."

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, they are." Sherlock hissed.

"It could be my business, Sherlock."

"No, it couldn't."

"Don't I have a right to be worried about my little brother?"

Sherlock decided not to mention that they were the same height and practically the same age. He remembered that one time when Mycroft had hit him with his umbrella and this was by no means an experience he wished to live again.

"There's a difference between worrying and stalking, Mycroft."

"You won't let me look after you any other way. I'll do what I have to."

Sherlock looked away, sensing the discussion was rolling down a path he didn't wish to follow. He nodded his head towards a group of Gryffindors whispering loud enough for the whole castle to hear.

"Maybe you should mind your own business, Mycroft. I fear you will have to deal with your own issues soon enough."

"Oh so you worry about me now? How nice." Mycroft's grin was answered with a glare. "These kids won't be a problem. They wouldn't have the guts to attack a Head Boy in broad daylight. At night however… Mh… maybe. We'll see."

Sherlock saw Greg walk out of the castle and feigned disinterest. An art, he had been told, he excelled at. "What does Lestrade think of all this?"

"He's still struggling with it, although he won't admit it. But thank you for your concern."

Sherlock groaned and Mycroft smiled. The elder brother didn't need Sherlock to confess he cared. He was as observant as the Ravenclaw, if not a bit more when it came to people's emotions. After all, he'd had a lot of… practice over the years.

"Hello Sherlock." Greg greeted as he finally caught up to them.

"Lestrade." Sherlock nodded.

Mycroft slipped his hand in Greg's and naturally leaned into him to give him a kiss. Sherlock took this as his cue to leave and headed back towards the castle.

"So," Lestrade chuckled when he was sure the Ravenclaw was out of earshot. "How are things looking between the two of them?"

"Interesting. Very interesting indeed." They both grinned and began walking towards the lake in a silent understanding.

Mycroft felt Greg tense up as they walked by the group of Gryffindors and he let out a sigh. "You shouldn't let them get to you."

"They don't." The Hufflepuff answered in a smile. Mycroft could still tell his boyfriend wasn't being honest with him but he decided to let it slide. Greg would talk to him when he felt ready. "So, what do you want to do tonight?"

Mycroft let his gaze wander down to Lestrade's ass and grinned. "I do have a few ideas."

Greg shook his head but couldn't suppress a smile. "I'll come round your quarters then?"

"I was rather hoping I could come and visit you in the Hufflepuff dorms instead."

Lestrade frowned. "But… we don't have to. Your rooms allow us a bit of privacy."

"Exactly." Mycroft was grinning up to his ears and Gregory stifled a giggle.

"You pervert."

The next day, John got out of the castle at lunch time. He wasn't sure Sherlock would want to stay with him, they hadn't talked about it. They usually didn't have to, but things had changed in the last few weeks. And John really feared he would find an empty bench waiting for him.

However, he sped up his steps. He needed to have an answer, he needed to know if things were back to normal or if he had imagined the whole thing.

Would they still be able to talk? Could they pretend nothing had happened? Did he even want to? He had come to realize just how much Sherlock meant to him, and as troubling as this piece of information was, he wasn't sure he wanted it forgotten.

Taking a deep breath, John walked past the large bush hiding the bench from sight and instantly relaxed. Sherlock was seating there, a book on his lap and his usual stern expression back in place. He looked up from the page as he heard John arrive and stated:

"You were afraid I wouldn't be here."

Relief washed over John and he let out a deep chuckle. Everything was indeed back to normal. He sat next to Sherlock and let his head fall back in full laughter.

"What are you laughing at?" Sherlock asked with a frown.

John shook his head and shot him a smile. "Nothing."

Sherlock eyed him curiously for a few seconds and finally let the matter drop. There were things he would never understand about John Watson. But maybe this was for the best.

The Ravenclaw suddenly put his book beside him on the bench and leaned down. "Sherlock? What are you-" But John stopped himself when he felt Sherlock grab his ankles and pull them up, finally resting them on his lap.

He smiled a little as Sherlock grabbed his book back. He could have sworn he saw the corner of Sherlock's lips twitch but he chose not to comment on it. He didn't have to. He knew, and Sherlock knew he knew. That was enough.

John tried to relax but he felt very self-conscious all of a sudden. He was very aware of his legs and this seemed to be everything he could think about. He could feel them burn at every point of contact they had with Sherlock's lap.

He swallowed hard. Maybe things weren't exactly back to normal. He took out his lunch and began eating, trying to ease some of the tension. Unfortunately, he knew Sherlock could feel every twitch in his muscles, every breath he took, every glance he threw his way.

The Ravenclaw released one of his hands from his grip on the book and naturally let it rest on John's leg. His eyes never left the page but John knew the gesture was deliberate. His hand began moving slowly up and down John's leg, gently stroking it in what seemed to be an unconscious gesture.

John knew better, but he found the action quite soothing and he quickly felt his body relax under Sherlock's simple touch. He let out a quiet breath and took a bite from his sandwich.

"Sarah and I broke up." He had tried to sound very casual but his heart wouldn't let him forget how important Sherlock's reaction would be.

"I know." He answered, not looking up from his book.

"How do you even- No. You know what? I don't want to know." John sighed.

"I'm sorry."

John shook his head and rolled his eyes. "No you're not."

This time, Sherlock did look up. His usually piercing gray eyes seemed uncertain right now and John felt his heart flutter in response. "What if I'm not?"

John couldn't help but smile at the softness in Sherlock's voice. "It's all fine."

Maybe things weren't exactly back to normal. Maybe this was a good thing too.

Please take the time to review! It really means a lot to me :) Next chapter coming up :)