Chapter Five

We Can't Stop Now

Sherlock leaned against the rails of the stairway waiting for John to come down the stairs. Every now and again he actually waited outside of the common room, but quite often Sherlock did not want to walk up seven flights of stairs. It'd be easier if John waited outside his common room, but the Slytherin's weren't too fond of a Gryffindor being near their room, and Sherlock was almost always awake before John was anyway.

Sherlock did not sleep as much as his Gryffindor counterpart.

"Took your time," he drawled when a blurry eyed and messy haired Watson trudged down the stairs and stopped next to him with a yawn.

"I have to walk down seven flights of stairs," he said peevishly, heading off into the hall, Sherlock falling into step beside him. John had often commented that the hat should have put him in Hufflepuff because seven flights of stairs before breakfast was not the best experience.

Sherlock gave an amused snort. "And you overslept because your alarm didn't go off," he added, steering John towards the Gryffindor table. John mumbled nonsense under his breath, and tried to ignore the looks that they got as they crossed the hall.

They, of course, had heard everything about what had happened a few days previous.

"Suspicious," commented Donnovan as the sat down at the Gryffindor table, holding up her toast in one hand.

"What's suspicious?" John asked tiredly, as he placed some eggs and toast onto his plate. He frowned as Sherlock just poured himself a mug of tea and ignored the table full of food.

"The way you two are always there when something happens," she replied. "Always you two."

"Leave them alone Sally," Mike muttered from a few places up the table. He looked tired, and worried. The attack on Carl was affecting him also, about the same amount as John who was quieter than usual.

She sniffed angrily. "I'm watching you," she told Sherlock, dropping her toast onto her plate. "You're behind this in some way, the way danger follows you about, there's no way it is simply a coincidence," she scowled at him, and got up off of the table and stalked off.

Sarah watched her stalk off with a sigh, and picked up a piece of fruit and followed her out of the hall.

"Just ignore her," John said quietly to Sherlock.

"I don't need you to tell me that John," Sherlock answered, his tone sharp. "I can see very well for myself that she's spouting nonsense," he picked up his cup of tea and ignored John's puzzled frown.

Pity you were too slow to save the Gryffindor.

-RB

Sherlock, who was heading to charms, hissed at the note and pocketed it. There was no point to this one, no mocking hint, or prod towards who he was. It was simply a mocking note to irritate him. And it was working.

When he swung by the classroom later that afternoon there was another note sitting on the floor. John lounged in the doorway, shooting a venomous look at the rolled piece of paper sitting innocently on the ground.

Maybe you'll be able to figure this one out. Before someone else gets hurt.

I'll make it easier for you, since you bludged the last one.

I didn't bludge it, Sherlock thought grumpily, we figured out the clues, where it was, who was being attacked. You just gave us no chance to counteract it.

Greenhouse three.

"Come on John," he said pocketing it. "He's left us another clue."

John gave him a tired look. "If we stopped playing he's games he'd drop it. You said it yourself, he's just looking to entertain himself. If we stopped playing along, he'd stop being entertained."

"If we stop playing his games, people are going to get injured, because we won't be able to stop it," he stopped next to John in the doorway. "He won't stop just because we do John," he said quietly. "He'll keep pushing until we get involved again." He walked past John, and John stared after him for a few seconds, before he followed.

They hit the staircase and set off at a run, John stumbling and skidding down a whole flight of stairs before he managed to regain his footing. He nearly stumbled into Professor Lestrade and gave a quick apology, before he suddenly came to a halt. "Professor!" he exclaimed.

And Lestrade who had walked off with a shake of his head about students turned towards him with a questioning look. Sherlock glanced back at John, but didn't stop. "Sherlockgotanotherwarningfro mtheattacker," John said. The Professor blinked, before what John had said clicked in his mind.

He nodded, and headed off down the stairs, following Sherlock. "Lead the way Mr Watson," he said, despite the fact that he was following the Slytherin. John nodded and set off after them both.

Curious eyes followed them, but no one followed. They knew that a running Sherlock and John meant trouble, and did not want to get involved in whatever trouble they were getting themselves involved in.

"Teacher Holmes? That's a bit unfair."

The trio had charged into the green house, to find Molly Hooper leaning back against a table. Her body was shaking slightly, the fear that the girl must have been feeling, from being trapped in her own mind, showing on the outside. She held her wand in her hand, but her arm was raised pressing her wand against her skull, as opposed to towards the three who had charged in.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, he had no grievances with the Hooper girl. He had hardly spoken to her in their six years at the school, but she was intelligent and kind, and smiled at him when he passed her in the halls.

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort, but Lestrade didn't let him. His wand already raised, he sent a stunner at her. She collapsed against the table, and fell onto the floor.

Sherlock and John glanced at each other, because neither of them had even thought about stunning her. Though perhaps they should have. Neither of them had wanted to turn their wands on her, or Carl, however.

Lestrade hurried over, and bent down next to the girl. John and Sherlock edged closer. "I can't risk waking her," the Professor said with a frown, getting to his feet and levitating the girl. "We don't know whether the attacker still has a hold on her mind," he glanced towards the two boys. "Take care you two," he said, and left the green house, the floating Molly Hooper behind him.

"There has to be a way to stop him," Sherlock grumbled, as they sat in the library. Sherlock leafing through a potions book for his own interesting, and John steadily working on a charms essay that had been given a few days earlier.

"Ask him then," John answered tiredly, frowning at the line he had written and then crossing it out.

"Yeah that'll work," he said.

John shrugged at him, and dumped his quill to the side. "Well I don't know Sherlock!" he snapped, his mood had been slowly worsening over the course of the day. Sherlock knew he was upset at Carl, but there was no reason to snap at him over it. "I'm going to bed," the Gryffindor said rolling up his essay. "I'll talk to you tomorrow or something."

Sherlock nodded at him, and didn't look up from his book.

"Where were you at lunch?" Sherlock asked him, lolling against the wall next to the defence classroom. Their classmates milled around in small groups, chattering with their friends.

"I went to the hospital wing."

Sherlock frowned lightly. "Why?"

John stared at him, his expression half incredulous. "To see how Molly was going…" he said slowly.

"And how is she?"

John shrugged. "She's still unconscious, they want to run a few more tests before they risk waking her up. They don't know what harm it can do to wake her. But the matron said they'll wake her up in the evening probably."

Sherlock nodded.

"Coming?" John asked, once he had noticed that Sherlock had finished eating his dinner.

Sherlock tilted his head to the side. "Where?" he asked him, running through his memories of the day to recall if John had asked him to go with him somewhere after classes.

"I was going to go check on Molly," John answered getting to his feet.

Sherlock shook his head, and followed the Gryffindor out of the hall. "I was planning on going to brew actually, I had an idea when we were in potions earlier and thought I might test it. What?" he asked, sensing John's shift in mood.

"She's only in there because of us."

Sherlock gave a tired sigh, and the two halted, halfway across the hall staring at each other. "I'm aware of that," he said tersely. He did not want the conversation that he knew was about to come. One that they had had a few times before.

"The least you could do is go and see how she is."

"I doubt Miss Hooper really cares," he answered. "Nor will she be awake to notice whether I am there or not. Not will me being there achieve anything."

"Your potions don't achieve anything either."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him. "Then I may as well do something I enjoy, if anything I'm going to do it going to be useless," he walked past John, who sighed at him.

"It's not that hard!" John called after him, ignoring the fact that his barb about Sherlock's potion making had actually insulted him. "Is it? To go and pretend to care for a moment."

Sherlock ignored him, though his shoulders stiffened as he continued to walk out.

The students in the hall who had overheard glanced at each other awkwardly.

Sherlock heard the sound of feet before the door to the room opened. He guessed it was John, but didn't want to say anything in case it wasn't. It wasn't unusual for Slughorn to walk in and see how he was going.

"I'm sorry."

He nodded to himself, yes John. Putting the rod in and giving the potion three and a half stirs he ignored him.

"Sherlock," John said quietly, and pulled over a stool sitting next to him. He feels guilty, Sherlock thought, and added a clockwise stir, and he should. "Sherlock, will you listen to me, or do I have to throw something into your cauldron?"

Sherlock glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "And risk blowing us both up? You have no idea what any of these ingredients would do if you added them in now," he turned back to his potion and added in a few drops of a clear liquid.

"I guess I don't," John admitted. "But I am sorry. I was angry and well…" he trailed off with a half shrug.

"I know. But I'm probably going to blow us both sky high if you keep distracting me. This potion is very volatile at the moment. Unfortunately," he gave a mournful sigh.

"I'll… I'll go off then, so I don't distract you." And he withdrew from the room.

About ten minutes later the cauldron started to bubble dangerous, and Sherlock was forced to vanish it before it exploded on him. He gave a mournful look to his now empty cauldron and set about packing up his belongings.

Exiting the classroom he stifled a yawn, and headed off towards the common room. He paused suddenly at the sound of feet, coming up from behind him. Which shouldn't have been the case as the only thing in that direction was the potions classroom.

Pulling out his wand he turned slowly, and lit up, holding it up so that he could see better.

Out of the shadows stepped John.