Chapter 3

Saturday morning finally rolled around putting an end to the first week back to Hogwarts and things were already off the rails.

Things with Sherlock were confusing a best. He was drawn to the genius like a moth to a flame and sometimes he believed Sherlock enjoyed his company while other times he completely ignored him steeping his fingers under his chin with his eyes closed.

John had never been so thrilled to play quidditch. He hoped playing the game would help him relax after a confusing week back. The Gryffindor team had the pitch reserved for their first practice this morning. He walked down to the pitch with his new team then began warm ups. Students were scattered through the stands watching the practice as usual. John mounted his broom lifting up into the air, finally feeling free. The rest of the team was warming up giving John the chance to look around him. In the stands John saw a slender boy with dark curls and head buried in a book. Sherlock was here.

John didn't know too much about the boy but he knew he wasn't a fan of the sport which confused John as to why he was there. Still having time to kill John flew over to the reading boy.

"What are you doing here?" John called over the wind. Sherlock seemed to hear him as he raised his face from his book to look at John.

"Research."

John assumed Sherlock was referring to the book in his hands as he rolled his eyes and flew away allowing the other boy to return to his book. John thought it silly to come all the way to the pitch to read when the library was so much closer. John shrugged off the oddity flying to meet with the rest of the team. Amos took the lead directing the practice not that John minded much.

"Everyone listen up!" Amos yelled. "Let's split up into two teams to practice offensive and defensive flying." Amos continued to rattle off instructions before the team split up, Amos as one leader and John as the other.

Amos led his team in flashy rolls and dives while John's team was quick and sturdy. The scoreboard reflected John's success while practice continued. John was dodging beaters in the air on his way with the quaffle when he noticed Sherlock staring at him with interest, book nowhere in sight. John almost lost his footing witnessing the unhidden gaze but quickly recovered by diving and rolling between the beaters. John scored another 10 points for his team before Amos' seeker caught the snitch winning the game.

The captains wrapped up practice, the team members feeling good about their chances this season.

"Go ahead, I'll catch up." John told Amos before flying back up to the stands where he last saw Sherlock. The boy was heading down to the pitch when John found him.

"Enjoy your research?" John innocently asked hovering next to him.

Sherlock briefly glanced at John smiling, "I believe I did, Captain."

John didn't understand why Sherlock's reference to his leadership made him blush but it did.

Changing the subject John asked, "What do you have planned for the rest of the day then?"

"I have some sensitive experiments brewing so I am going to check on that then perhaps play my violin."

"You play the violin? That's amazing." Sherlock grinned at John's constant praise.

"Are you coming to lunch before?"

Sherlock made an exasperated noise. "Digestion slows me down John."

John sped in front of Sherlock to round on him facing the boy. "Hold on. Are you saying you don't eat? That's terrible. You are going to lunch today."

Sherlock was taken aback while John glared Sherlock into submission.

Letting out a suffered sigh, "Very well but don't expect me to talk to those morons in there."

"My friends happen to be those morons." John argued indignantly, "And by that logic, I am one of those morons, too." Sherlock gave John a withering glance.

"Just give it a try Sherlock, please."

Sherlock didn't respond but John took his silence as consent.

In the Great Hall Greg and Molly were sitting with John's Gryffindor friends. John led Sherlock to the table before taking a seat on one side of the table.

"Afternoon everyone." John smiled, "This is Sherlock, he'll be joining us today."

The group stared at John as if he'd sprouted another head before Sherlock gingerly sat across from him.

John noticed Sherlock was sitting motionless and not speaking so he tossed a sandwich onto the other boy's plate gesturing for Sherlock to eat.

Greg was the first to speak directly to Sherlock, "So… Sherlock. Do you like quidditch?"

Sherlock swallowed a bite of food before responding rudely, "I do not see much premise in an activity of persons whirling in the air to throw balls into circles. I'm not a toddler in need of a mobile for entertainment."

William started to stand up, apparently wanting to fight the Ravenclaw but Jordie yanked him back to the table.

"John told us you're really skilled with potions, Sherlock." Molly remarked shyly. John's eyes bulged before he looked away from Sherlock, suddenly fascinated by the carrots on his plate.

"Did he?" Sherlock replied. John could feel the boy's eyes on him but he refused to look at him.

"Well he wouldn't be wrong. In fact I must be going, potions brewing, very sensitive experiments, I'm sure you understand. Come along John." Sherlock called behind him as he swept from the table. The others looked to John incredulously at the genius' last comment.

"Ah…right. I better see if he needs help with something." John blushed lamely before grabbing an apple and following after the Ravenclaw.

John tried not to notice the stares on his back as he followed the strange boy out of the Great Hall. He did not look forward to the next time he saw his friends, he was sure he was going to be ambushed.

John caught up to Sherlock right outside the Hall doors, "Merlin Sherlock, we were at lunch for less than 10 minutes! Is it really that hard to even try to get along with my friends?"

Sherlock continued walking forward as if he didn't hear John until finally acknowledging him, "That was me trying to 'get along with your friends', John."

The silence between the two walking students was tense. Sherlock didn't speak again until they were both standing in an unfamiliar part of the school, directly in front of a wall.

"Stand back." Sherlock gestured before he began to pace the corridor along the wall three times. John was about to remark on the bizarre behavior when a single door appeared in the stone wall. The door was black with a small gold knocker, above it in gold was '221b'.

"Wha-" John stuttered, eyes wide.

"The room of requirement. Perhaps you've heard of it. I've decided to use this room for my experiments as I don't trust the students here around my experiments when I am away. My brother tossed me into this school", Sherlock said with a sneer, "while I was in the middle of experiment 221. I did not wish to give up on the tests so I created 221b." Sherlock seemed bored with his explanation obviously finding it unimportant.

Sherlock opened the door allowing himself and John to enter.

The room was not what John had expected when Sherlock referred to this area as a space for experiments. The room he was currently standing in looked like a home, a cozy home at that. The fireplace, dark tapestries, worn seating, and collection of odd possessions around the space made the room appear as a home rather than a safe place to perform experiments.

Sherlock noticed the shock on John's face and attempted to hide a smile. John liked it. John liked his room.

"Wow Sherlock. Why?" John shook his head, "I mean why such a room for a place for experiments?"

Sherlock walked over to what appeared to be a kitchen grabbing odd things from cauldrons and jars before fiddling with measurements and answering. "This is what my room was like back home."

So that was it. Sherlock was homesick. John's eyes softened as he watched the genius working around the make-shift lab. He wasn't sure why he was here and began to look around nervously.

Sherlock let out a loud sigh without looking up from his work, "Just do some homework in the living space, John, watching you think is giving me a headache."

John gaped at Sherlock before flopping down on an armchair and opening his Transfiguration text book.

John had completed almost all of his work, only a short essay on the difference between a phoenix and fire newt egg left when Sherlock came out of his lab. He walked to the window and picked up a muggle looking instrument. John realized that the violin Sherlock had referred to earlier was a muggle violin. John watched with rapt attention as the young man coerced beautiful melodies from the instrument. John watched as Sherlock swayed with the violin tucked under his jaw, eyes closed, face firm yet relaxed. John noticed himself watching the boy's lips for the first time making his heart beat a little faster before he shook himself out of the trance.

John cleared his throat, "I know those experiments are important to you but you should probably do your homework for your actual classes."

Sherlock didn't cease his melodies nor open his eyes as he replied, "Already did it."

"When?" John asked confused.

"Sometime this morning. I believe I completed everything for the next two weeks between the hours of 4 and 5 in the morning."

"When did you sleep?"

"I didn't. I slept Tuesday."

"Wha- Sherlock! You can't skip days of sleep and food like that!"

Sherlock sighed and set down his violin, "You need sleep and food regularly to function, I do not. Don't be so boring John." Sherlock picked up the instrument again, "Your friends are wondering where you've gone I'm sure. You should go."

Hurt clouded John's eyes, "Right." John set his jaw tight before grabbing his bag and leaving, slamming the door behind him as he went.

Sherlock stared at the wall as John left. He really was rotten dealing with sentiment.

John was still angry when he reached Gryffindor tower. Busting into the common room caused all to look over in surprise.

"Merlin's beard John you gave us all a fright!" William yelled.

John noticed his friends crowded around the fireplace looking to him in shock. He marched over and threw himself onto an empty space on the sofa letting out a loud frustrated groan.

The seventh year Gryffindors didn't know how to respond to an openly angry John. They passed confused looks amongst each other before Amos spoke up, "Look Mate, I don't know what has got you so worked up but I know a sure solution to any problem." John looked to Amos doubtfully waiting for him to continue. Amos pulled out two bottles of fire whiskey grinning, "getting completely pissed." William laughed loudly and cheered while the girls chuckled along as well. John looked hesitant, he wasn't one to drink incessantly but he knew he wouldn't be seeing Sherlock anytime soon and he felt like letting lose for a while which led to John steeling himself and giving a nod of approval to Amos.

"YEAH! John is in!" Amos yelled. Jordie transfigured some school supplies into cups for everyone and Amos set out pouring unnecessarily large drinks. The commotion brought some other Gryffindors over until. John was working on his second glass when a few sixth years brought down some more drinks from their room. The common room turned into a full scale party within the hour. Some students from the other houses were even brought in. John gazed around the room looking for dark curls and piercing eyes but was disappointed to see none. He didn't know why he was disappointed, Sherlock wouldn't be here in the best of times let alone now. The party was in full swing and John was on his fourth drink. Every drink the fire whiskey went down smoother.

"JOHN!" William yelled as he stumbled over to a wobbling John Watson. "John! Hey. I think that sixth year, Heather McSol from Hufflepuff is checking you out." William slurred out, "Word on the street is she's a bit of a slag, you should go see." William gave a sloppy wink laughing at his own brilliance before he fell onto a nearby chair.

Heather McSol wasn't a bad looking girl now that he thought about it. Her hair was dirty blonde and wavy around her shoulder blades. Her brown eyes were round and sweet, one of those girls who could make any man succumb to her puppy dog eyes. Her growing breasts tugged against the buttons of her blouse. Her long legs undeniable under her shortened skirt. She was one of the sexiest girls in her class. And she wanted John it seemed, he grinned looking at her. She seemed to notice eyes on her as she looked over to him soon after, grinning back. A flash of someone with dark curls, piercing eyes, and high cheekbones flashed across his mind as he was looking at Heather and suddenly everything was wrong. Her hair wasn't hanging black as night around her face. Her eyes weren't piercing and all knowing. Her body wasn't firm, tall, and slight. John's eyes widened as his thoughts raced across his mind before he suddenly became furious. Sherlock couldn't interfere in his life when he wasn't even around, when he kicked him from his room, when he didn't feel his heart beat faster like John did when he was near. John refused to let Sherlock, a boy he hardly knew, change his life this much.

John wobbled over to a flushed Heather, "Hey Heather." John tried to put on the most alluring smile he could.

"Hi John." She purred back. She leaned closer to John and placed her left hand on his chest. Their noses brushed and John knew this was his chance, he sealed their lips together with drunken accuracy. They kissed with all the overconfidence alcohol provided. He slid his left arm around her waist pulling her to him while holding his drink in the other hand. She pulled him closer by the neck and the two licked, nipped, and sucked each others' flesh until people began to notice.

"Yeah John!" William and Amos cheered. Greg laughed and let out a cheer having arrived earlier to the raging party. Almost everyone in attendance cheered and laughed at the two making out in the common room. All but a raven haired boy by the portrait hole. Sherlock watched the two with disgust before leaving the party. Sherlock had come once he heard the mumblings of a party in the Gryffindor common room. He had come for the purpose of making sure John was okay and see that his moronic friends didn't force him into such a dull event. Sherlock had been wrong it seemed, John was quite enjoying himself. He returned to 221b for the evening, alone.

Back in the common room the couple had ceased their sloppy kissing. John knew he shouldn't go further since they were both drunk and he didn't want to do something he regretted. He refused to acknowledge the main reason; the lips he was kissing didn't belong to Sherlock. He apologized to Heather then joined his friends for the rest of the evening.

The Sunday morning sunlight streamed into the room causing the very groggy students to begin to stir from their dead like sleep. John groaned. He felt like complete shit. His shoulder as killing him, it took longer for him to notice the reason was because he was sleeping on the floor of the common room in a position that he could not have managed sober. Painfully, John arose from the floor, other students littered the floor around him and as John was taking inventory of who else didn't make it to bed last night, a loud bang erupted from the portrait.

John covered his ears and stumbled to the portrait hole to make whatever demon was cursing them to stop. John swung the portrait open and saw an embarrassed Molly next to Greg who happened to be sporting a shit eating grin.

"Could you not be so loud Greg?" John mumbled.

"NOT REALLY." Greg boomed.

Greg's voice forced many hungover students to have a very unwelcome wakeup call and John to cringe.

"Alight let's go just stop shouting." John pulled Greg from the portrait hole into the hallway. He wasn't going to be responsible for Greg's torment of the hungover students.

John drug his feet and groaned the entire way to the Great Hall.

"I think I'm dying." John conceded as he laid his head on the table. Greg smacked the table under him lurching John from his spot.

Greg laughed at his pain while Molly looked aghast at the two. Greg noticed the horror on her face.

"It's okay Molly we always do this to the other if they get a hangover. Think of it as revenge."

John simply groaned placing his head between his hands. Next to him a potion was gingerly set on the table followed by a smooth baritone, "Pepper-up potion."

John glanced next to him to the retreating figure of Sherlock Holmes who turned around and walked back out the Great Hall. John's gaze followed the man out in shock, he thought Sherlock didn't want to talk to him. He looked to the small vial next to him and drank it all. The effects of the potion started instantly, it was as if hours had passed and his discomfort was more of a thing of the past. John looked back to the empty doorway where Sherlock had been a few minutes ago, not sure how to take the kind gesture.