I'm really quite embarrassed about how long this took me. But there were quite a lot of reasons, including but not limited to: work, exams, and writer's block. The next chapter will take a while too, but it will be longer and much much more exciting; I want to be sure to get it just right. I do have it all planned out already though. Thanks so much guys, for everything. –Mell

The first few weeks of December blew by with gusts of wind and snow that soon left the castle and its grounds blanketed in white. John enjoyed the sight, but Sherlock kept complaining about how bright it was outside when the sun reflected off of it-and he had a fair point. In fact, their Care of Magical Creatures classes had started being held in the shade of the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, because so many students were having a hard time seeing.

Despite John's insistences, Sherlock still point-blank refused to communicate with Jack. He prepared his own way, by studying past tournaments and practicing his spells, as well as teaching himself a few more new ones that he thought would come in handy.

"Are you going home for Christmas?" John inquired of him one evening. They were in the room of requirement-Sherlock practicing, John working on his charms homework.

"No. Can you really imagine Mycroft and I peacefully enjoying Christmas dinner?"

John had only met Sherlock's brother briefly, but he still shuddered at the thought. "So Mycroft is going home then?"

"Yes. I mean, he hates Christmas. Despises it, actually. But he's going into the Ministry with our father to talk to some officials about summer internship opportunities."

"Internship? Isn't this his last year?"

"Yes, but the Ministry tends to not accept wizards right out of Hogwarts. If Mycroft gets an internship though, he'll have a chance to show off and they'll probably offer him a job." Sherlock shot a perfect stunning spell at one of the dummies by the opposite wall, and watched, satisfied, as it crumbled to dust.

John nodded in understanding, and then, watching Sherlock, asked: "Isn't that a beginner's spell? I figured you'd be practicing other things."

"Yes, well, I'm trying to perfect the basics-and I mean perfect. The basic spells are less draining as well as less complicated, and I'm more familiar with them. So if I can make them just as damaging to my opponent as more advanced spells, I'll have an advantage."

"Opponent? You make it sound like you'll be fighting the other people."

"Well I am, in a sense."

"You're competing. Not dueling."

"Did you see the two Durmstrang champions? I can guarantee that as soon as they get the chance, they'll turn against me. Maybe each other too. I don't trust either of them."

"Okay, but Sherlock, you will try to remember that Jack is actually your ally in all of this, not your enemy, won't you?"

"If he does," the boy replied simply, stuffing his wand into the pocket of his robes.

Christmas day was largely uneventful. Not many Hogwarts students were staying, as most had families to go back to. There were a few outcasts such as Sherlock and John there, but the majority of those in the castle were Durmstrang students. Although they weren't actually in the castle most of the time. They stayed on their ship, and were only rarely seen on the grounds from time to time. However, on Christmas, it seemed as though Dumbledore had invited them to join everyone in the great hall for a late lunch/early dinner.

Sherlock, by now, knew that there was always a special miniature feast, but had never really gone down. He preferred to get food first hand from the house elves in the kitchens (the room of requirement did not provide food, of all things) and bring it back to the room of requirement to eat in peace. However, John insisted that the two of them join the others, so at approximately 2:30, the boys found themselves seated with everyone else at a single round table in the middle of the hall.

Very few of the Durmstrang students had actually come with their Headmaster; the two champions, for one, were not there. Quite frankly, Sherlock found this to be a bit of a relief. There were only four Durmstrang students whom Sherlock didn't know by name, but they didn't look particularly friendly either.

For Hogwarts students there were a few older students, two first years, and Sherlock and John themselves. They were the last ones to arrive, so they took the two remaining seats next to Professor McGonagall-it seemed that the students wished to sit as far from the professors as possible.

Luckily there was no Christmas speech, and they were able to enjoy the delicious food immediately. Dumbledore tried to engage everyone in conversation, which Sherlock found to be a bit awkward since he had never spoken to the Headmaster before, and frankly was not one for chatting.

"I take it you're preparing well for the Tournament, Mr. Holmes?" he asked Sherlock politely, smiling at him.

"Yes, sir."

"Professor Nevamann tells me you're very talented in every area of his class. I'm sure we can count on you doing well."

Sherlock nodded awkwardly, very aware of the challenging glares the Durmstrang students sent his way. Luckily, he was saved from speaking anymore by Professor Slughorn enthusiastically talking about Sherlock's talent in Potions as well. Sherlock pretended not to hear any of this, and instead tried talking to John about his family, in the only way he knew how.

"Do you like your sister's wand?"

"Excuse me?"

"That wand obviously isn't yours, it's not very compatible with you. Which means it could be your mother's or father's, if it weren't for the fact that you're obviously a muggleborn. So, a sibling's, since often times there are two muggleborn wizards in one family, even if it is rare. I'm guessing she got a new one, and since she's older than you, you got stuck with hers."

John rolled his eyes, aware that a few people were listening in curiously. "How could you possibly know that it's a sister and not brother? Or, for that matter, that she's older than me? Or that I'm muggleborn?"

"If you were older, you'd have your own wand, wouldn't you? And as for her being a girl, well, it's not too difficult to tell by the wand if you know what you're looking for."

"And me being muggleborn?"

"Earlier, I had to explain to you that the Ministry doesn't accept wizards straight out of Hogwarts. Any pureblood or halfblood would have known that. Unless of course, they were extremely uninformed."

"So you just learned that the other day?"

Sherlock leaned in close to John and whispered in his ear, "No, I looked at your students records not long after meeting you. That's just my cover story."

John, exasperated, put his head in his hands. Looking up though, and seeing the twinkle of amusement in Dumbledore's eyes, the boy had a feeling that the Headmaster had heard Sherlock's words.

After the New Year, term started back up again in a whirl of homework and studying for the fifth years, since their O.W.L.s were closer than ever before. Sherlock found this to be extremely irksome, as he didn't have nearly as much free time to spend practicing as he would have liked.

Nevamann was the only teacher who seemed at all sympathetic, and had informed the class that they would only have very minimal written homework until "the completion of the first task of the tournament."

In fact, he had tried to get Sherlock alone after class a number of times, but Sherlock always managed to slip away or come up with some excuse. After his last encounter with the professor, Sherlock was frankly bothered by him.

However, Nevamann wasn't the only one Sherlock was avoiding. While he had informed John that he refused to initiate conversation with Collins, he also did his best to avoid the boy altogether. There was an instance, only a few days before the first task, in which Sherlock and John were walking to the library after Defense Against the Dark Arts when the boy came up from behind them and started to walk close to them, as if trying to start a conversation. However, Sherlock quickly slipped away into one of the many hidden corridors and left John to deal with the extremely awkward situation.

"You know, Sherlock," John began uncomfortably. It was the eve of the first task and the two boys were relaxing in front of the fire of the Ravenclaw common room; Sherlock had decided that by this time, if he wasn't prepared there wasn't much he could do about it, so the best thing to do would be to relax and talk with John.

"Hm?" the boy replied distractedly, having been gazing out the window at the starry-spangled sky.

"You did say you'd tell me about the whole Collins thing before the first task."

"Did I?"

"Yes," John said firmly, leaving no room for debate.

"Oh. It's a long story. There's no use going into detail now. All you really need to know is that we were friends for a time, but that fell apart pretty quickly once…"

"Once…?"

"Well, basically, it was all his fault."

"Was it?"

"Yes. He turned into a dick."

John snorted in amusement. "Fair enough. But you'll tell me more eventually?"

"Eventually. It's just that now isn't the time."

John nodded in understanding, seeing how stressed Sherlock seemed. If he ran his hands through his hair any more, he would start losing it prematurely.

"Okay."

"John?"

"Yes?"

"Um. Well. It's just, er-"

"If you have something to say, just say it," replied John, unable to keep a hint of amusement out of his voice. "You're wasting your breath."

Sherlock grinned, understanding the reference. "Do you want to stay here with me tonight? That is to say…will you stay here with me tonight?"

John's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. Um. Sure. Is that allowed?"

"Sure. Just sleep on the couch. That is, if that's okay with you. I was just going to sleep in this chair anyways. I've done it before. It's quite comfortable."

"Okay." John nodded, still a bit confused by the request.

As clouds rolled in that night, covering up the stars, Sherlock fell asleep to the rhythm of rain gently tapping the windows. Despite his various doubts and anxieties, he slept much better that night than he had in a very long time.

Next chapter: The First Task! (Originally I intended to start it in this chapter, but I decided it needed its own. That's why this chapter is so short and full of not much excitement. Sorry about that.) By the way, for those of you who haven't noticed, on my profile I constantly update the status of the chapter that is being written, so you know how soon it should be up.