Flashback time! I know this might be a bit awkward, but I need to to explain Sirius and Sherlock's 'relationship'.
And Sherlock might seem a little out of character, but that will be explained later. Probably in another flashback.
"So in 1907, the elvish-goblin war came to a halt with wizard interference and the treaty of-"
SNAP. The students searched the room for the cause of the noise. Except one.
The professor attempted to get the class back on track "The treaty of Kuala Lump-" Attempted to.
SNAP. By then, most students found the source of the sickening sound. Sherlock sat like stone in his seat, breaking the fingers on his left hand like most people crack their knuckles. His ring finger waggled limply as he dropped it and moved on to his middle.
SNAP. Some whispered to each other, just to be sure their eyes were working correctly. Others stared in horror. Most tried to look away.
SNAP. Sherlock raise his mangled hand, ignoring the stares and whispers and gagging noises.
"May I go to the nurse?"
"You're very fond of skulls, aren't you?" Sirius asks, trying his best to break the heavy silence that Sherlock seems to be enforcing over the room. I keep my attention on a random book that I had plucked off the shelf and try not to make it obvious that I'm not making eye contact with anyone.
"Mm." He grunts. Concentrate on the book. Concentrate on the book.
"I don't think you owned any skulls back at school." I can hear Sirius's footsteps padding about the room.
"Mm." I think this book may be in a foreign language.
"What are those on the cow skull?"
"Bison." Sherlock finally mumbles.
"What?" Yeah, it's definitely not english.
"It's a bison skull. Those are headphones." This isn't even the right alphabet, god my head is scrambled. "They're a muggle device, they blast sound into your ears."
"Oh nice. I'm loving all the muggle relics. Reminds me of my old room... Well, minus the naked ladies." I guess Sirius knows best about Sherlock's indifference tow- No. Concentrate on the book. Concentrate. On. The book. I think it's in russian. "Is something wrong with- I don't think I got his name."
"John Watson. I just told him about "us"." I could hear him making air quotations around the word. "So, I'd imagine he's trying not to picture us twenty years younger and nude." That's it. I drop the possibly russian book and shoot Sherlock my sharpest glare.
"Sherlock. I want you to replay that in your head. And tell me exactly what you've said wrong." Sometimes I get the idea that I'd make a great babysitter. He gives me a confused look. He doesn't know what he did. Thought so.
"... I didn't allow you to introduce yourself?" I can hear Sirius sniggering by the fireplace.
"Teaching Sherlock Holmes his manners. I like him!" He muttered somewhat to Sherlock, somewhat to himself.
"No."
"Oh I've embarrassed you again." Sherlock rolls his eyes. "John, you really are over-reacting about this."
"Over-reacting? You said you're married to your work." I didn't think I'd have to deal with awkward encounters with exs on top of the late night gunshots, stray body parts and criminal masterminds. Then again, I also didn't I'd have to deal with Sherlock practicing witchcraft.
"You're acting as if I've been cheating. There was a time when I didn't have The Work." He said in his 'I'm so sorry you're stupid' voice. He sighs when I shoot him the 'stop being a dickhead' look. "Sirius, put that down." Sherlock says, without even turning to see him. I don't know how he could've known the dogman was toying with a stapler.
"What is this devic-AH! It bites!" Of course he manages to staple his own hand.
"Save me from the stupidity of wizards. John, patch him up." He groans, darting out of his seat and to the door.
"Where are you off to?" I ask as I fish out the first aid kit. Normally, I'd assume someone could survive a stapler wound without assistance. But Sirius is so filthy, he could very well get infected with something.
"To get some soap to clean the bastard up. I can't handle the smell any longer."
As much as Sirius loved his friends, he often found himself wanting to rip their heads off. It doesn't really matter how much you care about three people, when you spend all day every day with them you're bound to get a little... murderous every once and awhile.
Sirius had decided to take a little late night walk after James recited his fifth poem about Lily's hair. It was for everyone's sake, really. He could tell Remus was getting angry at him for getting angry. He couldn't have him asking why.
He looked to the moon and sighed. It'll be full in a few days. He hated the days leading up to the full moon. Remus would get so tense and secluded. And there was never anything Sirius could do, which made him on-edge and angry.
"God. Just tell wolfboy you want him and get it over with." A voice groaned among the shadowy tree branches looming over his head. Sirius would've completely missed the voice if he hadn't smelled smoke.
"Wh-what was that?" Sirius refused to be frightened. He's a gryffindor! One of the elite, for merlin's sake! "Who's there?" He asked a little more firmly. Something rustled above his head.
"Up here." The voice whispered, a wisp of smoke groping the animagi's ear. He looked up to find Sherlock laying across a low hanging branch as if it weren't two inches in diameter. The cigarette in his hand illuminated the reptilian features of his face in a strange orange light.
"How... How do you know about Remus?" Sirius demanded, catching onto Sherlock's implied knowledge. It was dangerous for anyone to have knowledge of Remus's condition. Escpecially some shadowy figure hanging from a tree at the edge of the forbidden forest. Could it be a boggart?
"Oh please. I can spot a love-sick puppy a mile away." Sherlock enunciated bitterly, rolling his eyes.
"That's not what I meant."
"Wolfy's little secret? Obvious. I caught on to the cyclical nature of his emotional and mental state ages ago. Either he's a werewolf, or he's secretly a woman with a very short, very intense menstrual period." He sighed, a plume of smoke twisting up into the leaves. "It takes a monster to know a monster, does it not?"
"Wha-Who the hell do you think you are!?" Sirius barked, ready to launch himself up the tree and defend his friend's honor.
"Oooh angry. Fascinating. Are you gonna come up here and beat an apology out of me? Or maybe just drag me down to your level and give me a piece of your mind." He purred stretching, catlike among the branches."Perhaps you could show me the meaning of the word pain. I believe I've forgotten it."
"Just answer the damn question!"
"Sherlock Holmes." Sirius had heard that name before but not often. Only whispered in seclusion just before deep, festering silences. Half the things people said where so bizarre he suspected the boy didn't actually exist. Just a ghost story the purebloods tell to frighten the muggleborns away. 'Go back to your own world, mudbloods, or you'll end up like Sherlock Holmes.'
"You're the boy who..." His anger quickly diffused into and maybe a twinge of pity.
"Yes, I know the rumours." Sherlock brushed off the half sentence with a flick of ash from his quickly shrinking cigarette. "Now let's change the topic to something a little more... interesting." He purred, smirking predetorily down at Sirius.
"Li-like what!?" Sirius coughed, nearly tripped over himself despite not actually moving. Sherlock's eyebrow twitched in response. "Why would you ever think I'd be- Or you'd ever- I'm not gay."
"Very eloquently put, Mr. Black. I'll give you three reasons why you'd possibly be interested. 1) Your parents would be appalled to hear that their son is secretly sodomizing a slytherin muggleborn. 2) I could take your mind off your dear Moony. 3) You're attracted to me."
"I am no-"
"The only people who stare that intensely at someone's lips are either deaf or aroused." With a single shift in balance, Sherlock swung himself out of the tree and onto the ground. He took a step forward. "I could give another reason... say... Lupin's hairy little secret?
"You're going to blackmailing me." Sirius growled, suddenly unsure of whether he should to curse the bastard into oblivion after all. Just the thought of his horrid family's faces when they got word made him consider tackling the boy into the grass.
"No. Because you're going to say yes."
I do this thing where every month I try to beat the profile and story views of the previous month. It keeps me updating on a regular basis and competing against myself. Anyways it's going to be REALLY hard to beat this month and it's not even over yet. So I'd like to thank any and all of you who have read my stories and scrolled through my profile!
Merry christmas and happy new year!