Sherlock wasn't studying for his NEWTs. 'What for?' he would say when any student would ask him why he hadn't opened a single textbook on finals week. Sherlock had blown past the knowledge required for the tests a long time ago, and his teachers had given up trying to teach him anything new and just let him sit in the back of class levitating objects during the final month of school. But Sherlock was growing more increasingly bored with each day, and without John to entertain him, he was becoming more and more irritable. John had to study, of course he did. And he wouldn't let Sherlock anywhere near him when he did, because the genius would just poke him and talk his ear off until John stopped what he was doing and focused his attention on his friend.

There was nothing to do in the Ravneclaw dorms, nothing to do in the library, and Hogsmead was closed to students until finals were over (not that there was anything to do there, anyway.). Sherlock would have gone out into the forbidden forest and hunted squirrels again, but Hagrid had caught him once, and after almost accidentally killing him, threatened him with a bucket of water and a report to the headmaster if he caught the large cat one more time. Sherlock was resigned to his dorm in the end; laying upside down on the bed and letting the blood rush down his body and to his brain was surprisingly good for thinking. He was just starting to see the edges of his vision blur when something silver and quick passed through the window, causing Sherlock to sit up a little too fast. When his head stopped swimming, he saw a misty patronus sitting on his bedpost. The argent raven opened it's beak, and John's voice streamed out. "Sherlock, I found a flat I think we could go halves on. Come to Gryffindor tower." Then the phantasmic bird dissolved into the air.

"Finally, something to do!" Sherlock grabbed his blue and brown scarf and tore off in the direction of Gryffindor tower. John's patronus was a raven, not really surprising, but still a little curious. A person's patronus is supposed to reflect the caster's personality, but some of the animals were harder to place than others. Lestrade's patronus was a large dog, which made sense because he was in magical law enforcement, and dogs were good protectors. Molly's was a rabbit because she was kind, but could bite. Sherlock's own patronus was a fox because of the clever, proud way foxes assert themselves. But why John's was a raven, Sherlock hadn't worked out yet. He would have guessed it would be a lion or an eagle. Something brave.

Sherlock shrugged. "A puzzle for another day."