Let Us All Make History

Ignorance And Innocence

Molly sat up in the sitting room alone, for the carriage was still silent and most of the occupants were still out with their dates, presumably having spent the night somewhere they shouldn't be. She had to admit that she was worried about Victor. She didn't like the idea of those Durmstrang boys, simply because she didn't know them enough to trust them. She doubted Victor knew them either! It would seem as though he was just clinging to whoever would give him the pleasure of their company, and if that was a group of buff strangers then so be it. She didn't think that they would treat him very well at all, in fact she was almost certain that they would never take into account Victor's own feelings...they probably didn't even know his name! They just knew that he was beautiful, and that he was attracted to them, and they would use that until there was nothing left to offer. That was a very Victor thing to do, in fact, and so maybe it was appropriate. And yet Molly had to admit that she would much rather Victor exhaust his hormonal predispositions on boys that would accept his admiration than Sherlock, who wanted nothing to do with him at all. Victor was much more capable of handling himself in the real world, he could say no and he could say yes, he knew that he had the option of either one. Sherlock, on the other hand, was indecisive on all levels, and he really didn't know when the proper time was to say either or. He would just go along with what other people wanted or what they were doing, he didn't care much to what he wanted just so long as he made other people happy. He was timid in that way, meek and fearful of those he did not understand. Molly wanted to protect that boy more than anything, and if throwing Victor into an uncomfortable situation would be the way to do it then so be it! Sherlock had to be safe, that was all that mattered at this moment. And Molly was good at keeping him physically safe, ever since first year at Beauxbatons she had been standing under his broom to make sure he didn't hit the ground when he fell, bandaging up his cuts and scrapes, and fighting off any bullies that might get a little bit too close. And yet now she was facing an opponent she couldn't recognize, one that she couldn't see! Emotional pain seemed to be too much for either of them to handle, and way too much for them to oppose. Sherlock was hit with the pain train, coming at him full force with John Watson's rejection; it was twice now that he had gotten mowed over by the sheer strength of such a tragedy! What was she supposed to do to help him, there was only so much talking could do! There was only so much she could do, if John had made up his mind then what was she going to do to change it? John was straight, she had known that from the beginning and yet it would seem that even with this clarity there were still issues. Sherlock had continued to hope in vain that somehow there was a future with he and John, that somehow there was a shift in John's personality, in his existence, that maybe John will wake up one day with the sudden urge to run over to the carriage and kiss Sherlock until the sun went down once more! It was preposterous, and yet it was unavoidable. It was hope, and that was not so easily killed. Not until it was crushed repeatedly, overrun entirely with helplessness and defeat, until finally anger overcame that hope and suddenly there seemed to be no way to go on. No way to hope any longer...when reality set in. And yet how many times would Sherlock have to be told no to finally get the message? For once in his life he was being optimistic, for once in his life he was actually going after something! And yet an unstoppable force met an immovable object, and then what? Do they simply collide, or do they break through one another? Might there be a catastrophe when finally one of them has had enough? 

Sherlock POV: Molly basically had to force Sherlock to get up the hill to the castle, for with every step he took towards the large doors another part of his brain decided that maybe it would be best to stay back. He hadn't slept a wink last night, partially in loathing of John, and partially in loathing of himself. He was just so angry all of the sudden, so frustrated with the one true love that he simply couldn't get returned! John was his soulmate, he had spent the entire night convincing himself of the fact, they were perfectly compatible, with their sense of humor, their beauty, their talent. The Goblet of Fire deemed them both the most elite from their schools, why then, would John not realize that he should love someone on the same tier as him? Mary Morstan was second in most every aspect to Sherlock, and yet somehow she was the one that achieved John's love? Was he stupid? Was he trying to get disappointed? Not only was Sherlock stronger, more attractive, more romantic, and everything in between, he was also winning the Triwizard Tournament! All Mary Morstan was winning was the loathing of even more people as they crossed her path! It simply wasn't fair, Sherlock deserved the world, he had decided that as well, and it would seem as though there was only thing that was equivalent to the power and possession of the earth, and that was John Watson. Molly didn't understand, and that was why she was dragging him up the hill as if their lives depended on it, as if there was some sort of urgency! She had no one up there who would mock her, the perfect straight girl with the attractive boyfriend who loved her back, well who would bat an eyelash? It was Sherlock who had to worry about the crowds in the Great Hall, for not only had he taken Victor as his date the night before, but he was also expecting to be approached by John, who he wasn't even sure was his friend anymore. Molly had told him the time before that John was alright with just being friends with someone who was in love with him, however how could he ignore Sherlock's constant persistence? Did he think Sherlock wouldn't stop, would he expect some sort of flirtation every time they interacted? Was that what this 'friendship' had degraded to, or was it inexistent already? Would John just turn his face away, would he ignore the inevitable and sink back into the cave of heterosexuality that Sherlock had tried so hard to pull him out of?
"Molly I think this is a bad idea." Sherlock decided flatly, dragging his feet along the stone entry way all while Molly continued along joyfully, for evidently she had forgotten all about Sherlock's troubles and was focusing once more on her boyfriend who might be waiting for her inside. Sherlock had never known Molly to be selfish, however these past two nights she seemed to have forgotten completely about Sherlock's issues, she instead was focusing on herself, which was probably the normal thing for a human but it certainly wasn't the normal thing for Molly. She was too sweet for that, too considerate. Well at least she used to be!
"This is a great idea, come on Sherlock it's just breakfast." Molly insisted.
"But he'll be in there; he's going to be looking at me!" Sherlock whined, almost feeling more tears push at the lids of his eyes.
"We'll just sit you facing away from him, that way you won't know. Besides, if he's looking at you isn't that a good thing? It means he's preoccupied with your presence." Molly pointed out.
"I can't even think like that anymore, he flat out rejected me! If there ever was a time it would have been then, last night, in the midst of madness and romance!" Sherlock wailed, feeling much like a walking defeat than an actual human being.
"Now stop that, you know more than anyone that there is always a way to um...curve some people out." Molly muttered, making Sherlock sigh heavily and nod his agreement. He of course hadn't been responsible for anyone's change in sexuality; however he had to admit to being surprised at some people's transformations through the years. Sort of like one of the girls from Beauxbatons, Irene Adler, the one who had been with a man during second year all throughout the duration of her school career. And then suddenly it was announced that over the summer, after having seduced most every straight boy in the school, she announced her relationship with some girl named Kate, and that seemed to be the latest consensus. Mary had hated her of course, and so she always kept the gang that went to Hogwarts up to date on Irene's relationship status. She seemed quite content to know that Irene had switched teams, and was always making sure everyone knew that the couple was celebrating their five month anniversary or something like that. And so redemption was indeed possible, it was just going to be a long and painful process. John could still revert from his prehistoric views of relationships; he could still realize that love stretched far beyond the boundaries of the opposite gender. When finally Molly succeeded in getting Sherlock into the entrance hall the first thing he did was keep his head low, feeling a sort of tingling sensation in his bones, his natural alert of when John was near. And so he was here, eating breakfast, most likely looking calm and collective, all while blissfully aware that he had kept Sherlock up the entire night, crying up whatever he could muster throughout the long, dark hours! Molly left Sherlock's side immediately; however he was just about to curse at her when he felt her yank at his hand, pulling him in the direction she was going, the direction of the Gryffindor table!
"No, Molly no!" Sherlock exclaimed, trying to yank the girl's hand off of him to no avail. She had an iron grip, and if his captor had been anyone other than Molly then he might have just pulled his wand out and struck them with some sort of terrible immobilizing jinx. And yet this wasn't Victor, and so he knew that whatever motives were behind this struggle was probably meant for his own good, and so it was all he could do but complain and fight her off before finally he was defeated, and it was all he could do but try not to look at his impending doom as it approached.
"Good morning everyone!" Molly said cheerfully, still not letting Sherlock's hand go as he, in a moment of complete denial, closed his eyes straight away. He knew that John was watching him, for all the nerves in his body were tingling and sparking nonstop, however he was much too afraid to open his eyes to meet the boy's gaze. He was humiliated beyond any sort of logic, and so he decided that if he didn't see John then maybe john didn't see him.
"Good morning Molly!" Greg's voice responded, and Molly's grip slackened only a bit as she leaned forward to peck him on the forehead in admiration.
"And Happy Christmas!" Molly added, in which the tone of her voice told Sherlock that she was wearing that obnoxious smile.
"Happy Christmas Molly." John's voice replied, making Sherlock's knees wobble just a bit so that he had to stumble to keep himself upright. Was John going to ignore him as well, or was he right now deciding how he should address the suddenly blinded boy before him?
"Is he um...is he alright?" Greg's voice wondered softly, almost as if he didn't think that Sherlock could hear him as he muttered apprehensively to Molly.
"Oh yes, yes Sherlock is fine. Quite fine, just a little bit tired." Molly assured, jabbing Sherlock painfully in the ribs so that he had no choice but to open his eyes. The first thing he saw, of course, was John staring right back at him, looking so attractive that it almost gave Sherlock a physical pain.
"Tired." Sherlock agreed in a small voice. John nodded, clearing his throat and staring down at his half-finished plate of eggs and bacon with something of a regretful look on his face, almost as if he was wondering just what sort of madness had overtaken him the night before, and what sort of logic he was going to adopt this morning. Molly noticed John's reluctance as well, for she squeezed Sherlock's hand excitedly, almost as if she thought he hadn't picked up on it.
"I'm tired too; no one does an after party like the Gryffindors. I should've taken you up Molly; a lot of my friends want to meet you." Greg muttered, sounding genuinely upset at his own ignorance.
"Oh that's quite alright, as soon as I got back to the carriage I fell right to sleep, dancing exhausts me." Molly admitted with a little giggle. Sherlock just sighed heavily, for not only did he remember her doing stuff like yelling at him before she went to bed, but also because he hadn't even gotten to dance very much last night at all. That and he didn't get to sleep either.
"They'll have other opportunities of course." Greg assured, to which Sherlock saw Molly smile a bit excitedly.
"We best be going back to our table, just wanted to pop in and say hello." Molly admitted with a little wave, making Sherlock nod in agreement.
"Yes, yes we must be going." Sherlock agreed weakly, turning on his heel and attempting to drag Molly back to the Ravenclaw table where they belonged. She was busy saying goodbye, and Sherlock was almost sure he heard John's voice in the mix, saying his goodbyes, he was almost sure that he heard his name escape from that boy's mouth. That beautiful boy, oh what a tragedy.