"They've found him!"
Everyone in the common room looked up from their work, faces of excitement dimly lit by wall candles.
"Where? Did they kill him?" someone cried.
The tall student at the common room entrance arch, wearing a thick floor length black coat with dark blood red fur lining, shook his head but beckoned the other Durmstrang students, striding off into the dark corridor.
I blindly followed as everyone piled into the almost pitch black hallway, not having half an idea where I was going or why. Something in the back of my mind told me something wasn't quite right, and that I didn't belong in Durmstrang, I belonged in Hogwarts, but I ignored it.
The wall of black and red robed students flowed effortlessly through the gloomy castle and out into the extensive grounds. A blast of freezing air instantly pulled my expression into a grimace and I squared my shoulders, instinctively moving closer to other students for warmth. None of them seemed bothered at all.
It was clearly late at night, and all I could decipher using my eyes was that we were surrounded by huge mountains, dim shadows that were just that bit lighter than the inky night sky, presumably due to heavy snow on the tops. The moon was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly the ground started to crunch against my feet and I looked down, realising with a little dread that we were all stepping across frozen ice. I could feel my shoes sliding on wet patches across the ice, my heartbeat now incredibly irregular.
Someone, a tall someone, was striding across to meet us on the ice. Not that I could see anything in particular in the blackness, and while being terrified I was going to fall to my death in the icy water, I thought I recognised his face.
"What happened to him?"
All the students started talking at once, asking intent questions, faces lit with excitement by the faint light of the tall man's wand. He held a black gloved hand up and silence fell. It was incredibly silent. It had the distinct air of bad news to it.
"We found him in a cave up close to the Mount," the man said quietly, in a deep, gravelly voice that was also distinctly recognisable. "And no, he isn't dead."
Faces fell with disappointment. Turned to anger.
"What did you do with him?" someone cried.
I'm sure I know him.
"Sherlock Holmes does not belong to this school anymore," the man growled.
"Where is he going to go?" someone else cried.
"Anywhere away from here." He seemed to crack for a moment, obvious anger threatening to break through.
My heart skipped a beat. Sherlock Holmes. Doesn't he belong to Hogwarts too though? Wasn't I with him a few days ago? What was he doing all the way over here?
"His brother is coming to collect him tomorrow. You will not speak-"
There was a collective narrowing of eyes and tightening of jaws.
"You will not speak to him, go near him or aggravate him in any way," the man continued sharply, gesturing with his wand. "We all know now how dangerous he is," he added bitterly.
I shivered. What are they talking about? Is this why Sherlock was expelled from Durmstrang? What did he do?
Suddenly all the student's faces turned in the faint light to stare at me. I took a step backwards, shocked. They hadn't acknowledged me up until now.
"Er, hello," I stammered.
They didn't reply. There was something haunting about the glaze on their eyes.
"Do not trust Sherlock Holmes," the man whispered, but it was a terrifying loud whisper, as if it was writhing up from the ice itself. The ice began to crack, splinter, freezing water spilling out from underneath my feet-
I opened my eyes.
Instantly sitting up, it took a moment to work out where I was. In the Gryffindor dormitory. Jacob was sprawled on the next bed along, snoring lightly. A few rays of light pooled on the carpet through the window.
My heartbeat was racing, and my breathing was incredibly irregular. I put a hand to my chest, trying to calm myself down. It was only a dream. Only a dream. You're in Hogwarts.
I looked over to where Jacob and I had bundled Lestrade onto his bed after the previous night. My expression turned to one of steely resolve.
Whatever happens, I'm going to find out who Sherlock really is.