I appeared in the library once again, Sherlock was browsing the shelves lazily. I couldn't help myself, I don't know what had changed in me to be so excited to see him, but I ran at him and gave him a huge hug. Sherlock stumbled back, obviously very surprised at being greeted like this, but I didn't care. I breathed in his beautiful scent, holding him close to me so that nothing could break us apart. This was what I had been dreaming of since I had to leave him, nothing on my earth could ever compare to this beautiful feeling.
"Whoa, what are you so excited about?" he asked with a small laugh.
"I missed you so much." I admitted, pulling away but still standing relatively close. I looked at him, the details of his face, the green eyes, the high cheekbones, the very kissable cupid bow lips that called to me.
"I see that you have." He decided. "What makes me so desirable then?" he asked, as if he already didn't know.
"The list would be shorter if I listed negatives." I pointed out.
"Well I can start you off with that then, my criminal record as one..." Sherlock decided, and he was definitely prepared to go on.
"Shut up Sherlock." I begged. Sherlock just smiled, making my heart glow.
"So you really missed me then?" he asked, as if that was a shock.
"All day, I couldn't get you out of my head." I admitted.
"That's quite kind of you." Sherlock decided. "So what do you want to do, now that we're happily reunited?" Could kiss you be an option this time?
"I don't know." I shrugged.
"There's the Mr. Watson I know." Sherlock laughed. I just frowned, but I didn't mean it, in fact it was like my entire body would collapse of happiness when his smile radiated light brighter than the sun.
"Let's take a walk then." Sherlock decided.
"Where?" I asked curiously.
"Outside, unless you have a better idea. We can see the Whomping Willow, unfortunately Hogsmeade isn't in the package deal so we shouldn't make any plans to go to Zonko's."
"Hogsmeade?"
"It's the Wizarding Village, only pure Wizarding village in the world in fact, and it's right next to the school."
"That sounds pretty cool." I agreed.
"Sorry that I couldn't include it, this book only has so much space." Sherlock sighed; pushing the book he had previously pulled out back into the shelf and extended an elbow for me to join him. I knew he was probably expecting me to walk by myself, avoid him at all costs because I was afraid he was a serial killer, but in reality I saw him, only him, for who he was and that understanding made him, if possible, even more desirable. Not that murderous psychopath was on my list of desired traits. But I hooked arms with him, wanting to lean on him and put my head on his shoulder, but before I could he started walking down the shelves, leading us out of the library and out into the halls. It was empty once more; the only sounds were our shoes clicking against the stone floors. As we walked I realized I was getting more familiar with these maze like halls, I knew where the stairs were, I knew what floor the library was on, and every time we passed the Fat Lady I made sure to smile tauntingly at her. The paintings acted as guides really, markers to go this way and that. I was sure by now Sherlock knows every single painting in the place; he had more than a couple of years with nothing to do here. We finally made it down to the Great Hall, where Sherlock lead me down the stairs and through the massive oak doors. It was beautiful, the leaves on the forest were starting to change, reds and golds through the sea of green, but the grass remained green and the birds were still chirping. It was insane to think that I wasn't standing in a real place, instead it was a memory, Sherlock's memory, stuffed into a book. Everything worked perfectly, the seasons, day and night, but the real Hogwarts was stuffed with kids and staff when it was just me, Sherlock, and Moriarty, who was off hiding probably. I felt bad for the kid, to suffer such a horrible death only to be trapped here with his love sick murderer. I didn't want to ask Sherlock if he still had feelings for Jim, I didn't want to open a wound that had long since healed. I doubted he did, under all of that rage because of Moran, but I was willing to guess a love that strong didn't just die off. Sherlock didn't seem to want to talk about the events of last night, and why would he? He seemed to be playing it off as if I still thought he was a person somewhere and I was teleporting to this castle every day.
"You're awfully quiet." Sherlock pointed out in his hypnotic voice.
"Just thinking." I admitted.
"Don't hurt yourself." He said with a small laugh.
"Hilarious Sherlock, just hilarious." I groaned, having not heard that a million times.
"Well stupid jokes are good for lightening the mood." He shrugged.
"So are there any main attractions in this place?" I asked, looking around the grounds.
"We're getting there Mr. Watson, just relax." He sighed. We seemed to only be heading to a tree, big and old but I wouldn't exactly call it an attraction. We continued for it though, but we stopped a couple feet away from its branches, as if Sherlock was scared of it.
"The Whomping Willow." Sherlock said proudly, gesturing to the large tree that was creaking in the wind.
"What's so great about it?" I asked, looking around the tree to see if there were any engravings or something that I was missing.
"I would tell you to find out by yourself, but that would be suicide."
"Is it poisonous?" I guessed excitedly.
"No, nothing like that, watch." Sherlock picked up a rock from the ground and threw it lightly into the web of branches. As if on cue, all of the twigs moved at once, snatching the rock out of the air and spitting it out through the air, landing far back on the rolling hills.
"No way..." I muttered. "It's alive!"
"Something like that, enchanted, but it's the perfect defense method." Sherlock clarified.
"Why would they have something like this in a school?" I asked.
"There's rumors, some say there's a pathway in its roots, I checked, it's just a hole here but it hasn't been included in the book so there is no way to tell." Sherlock shrugged.
"Why do you think it's here?" I asked.
"Because what's a magical school without a man eating tree?" he pointed out with a laugh.
"Obviously." I agreed.
"I would say we could go into the Forrest, but that's way too dangerous since we don't have magic to defend ourselves." Sherlock decided.
"So now what then?" I asked.
"We could try to dig up some stuff in the mud by the lake; kids always drop stuff down there." Sherlock shrugged. I almost said yes, but then remembered the whole thing with Moran. Maybe being near the water with him wasn't the best idea in the world. Sherlock seemed to notice his mistake as well, going silent and seemingly biting his tongue. An awkward silence hung in the air, I didn't exactly know what to do when faced with this problem, there wasn't exactly a couple's therapy session for it.
"Maybe not the best idea." Sherlock decided, looking around the grounds as if trying to find something else to do.
"What's that hut down there?" I asked, pointing to a deserted looking cabin on the edge of the woods.
"Ah yes, the gamekeeper's hut." He said, his emotional trauma seeming to just slip away.
"Pretty prestigious if you've got a gamekeeper." I decided.
"Oh anyone can go to Hogwarts, you just need magic." Sherlock pointed out. They strolled down the hill together, approaching the small hut.
"Wouldn't he get scared, being so close to the forest?" I guessed.
"The gamekeeper in my day was named Hagrid, and I'd be willing to bet that nothing in that forest scared him." Sherlock pointed out.
"Why not?"
"He was half giant." Sherlock said, as if it was totally normal.
"Course he was." I muttered, trying to wrap my head around that fact that someone could be half giant.
"Was he really tall?" I added, knowing the answer was probably yes, but he could look normal.
"You tell me." Sherlock said with a small smile, opening the door to the cabin. A burst of cold air escaped, the cabin smelling like an odd mix between tree sap and dog hair. I stepped inside and thought, at first, that I had shrunk or something. Even though it was a small cabin, everything inside was enormous. The chair, the table, a huge bed in the corner with a patch work quilt, there was even a basket in the corner that could probably fit a grown man.
"Yes, he was really tall." I decided, looking around the room.
"I'm surprised they actually make chairs this big." Sherlock agreed, patting the back of the chair that was eye level for even him.
"And he lives here?" I asked, picking up a crossbow from a peg on the wall. It wasn't loaded, but never the less Sherlock ducked behind the chair in case something actually went off. Even if I did have an arrow, I'd never be able to fire it since I was having trouble lifting the bloody thing. I struggled to put it back on the peg, giving up on my attempt to pretend I was strong.
"Hagrid was always nice to me." he said, looking into the cold fireplace with sad eyes. "I would always try to escape into the forest when the torment got bad, try to escape my problems, and of course he'd catch me. But instead of detention he would make me tea and rock cakes, let me sit in the big chair with Fang drooling all over my robes." Sherlock smiled sadly, as if remembering good memories.
"Was Fang a dog?" I asked. He nodded.
"Sometimes I get lonely here, even though I was lonely in life, sometimes I need someone to make me tea and tell me everything will be okay." Sherlock sighed. I tried to imagine a younger Sherlock, but it was quite hard to do. Young Sherlock, with his goofy smile and his curly, out of control hair, laughing as he scratched a dog's ears. It was sad to think he would grow into this tortured soul, that poor kid had no idea what was coming.
"You've got me." I pointed out.
"Yes indeed Mr. Watson, I do have you." Sherlock agreed with a smile. It seems like he changed emotions like masks, he simply threw off the mask of sad Sherlock and put back the happy, positive Sherlock. John sort of wished he wouldn't though; it was hard to have deep, emotional moments when Sherlock had a sarcastic smile on his face the whole time. Not that I didn't like the smile, in fact I wished everyone could have such a beautiful smile, one that made my entire heart seem to rise up into my throat.
"Why do you look at me like that?" Sherlock asked, the smile not fading.
"Because you're beautiful." I said stupidly. One of those sentences where your heart just does the talking and your brain has no input, not stupidity monitor to screen and make sure you weren't going to make a complete fool of yourself. Example A: Calling someone beautiful completely out of context. But Sherlock just laughed as my cheeks began to glow hot enough to light that fireplace.
"Don't you know how to make a guy feel special?" he asked.
"It just, you know, sorry." I muttered, my words falling over each other as if in some type of race.
"It's perfectly fine Mr. Watson." Sherlock assured. "And since you sort of mentioned it, I must apologize for yesterday, but I was too spun out of control for anymore emotions then. I've never actually told my story, I never had anyone to tell it to, and then with the promise of love mixed up in all of that, my head would've fallen off." Wait; was he implying what I thought he was? Promise of love, did he actually mean that he would've taken it, enjoyed it? Oh that would be brilliant.
"Sorry about that then."
"Oh no Mr. Watson, it's quite fine." He assured, looking at me with a sort of gleam in his eyes. I wanted to step forward, but I didn't know what he would do. At the moment he was sort of leaning towards yes, but what if I was reading him completely wrong, what if this is just what I wanted to hear? He could've said 'no Mr. Watson, it's not fine', and here I would be trying to kiss him and go in for the kill. It would be mortifying.
"So, is that..." I asked quietly, not daring myself to hope too much. I didn't want my entire heart to crash and burn, but at the moment it seemed that there was no stopping my desire.
"It's whatever you want it to be Mr. Watson." Sherlock assured. I took a cautious step forward, making my stomach feel bottomless, but he just looked at me with admiration, awaiting what we both knew was coming. I took another step, one more and I'd be there, in front of him, it felt like my legs wouldn't work, but it also felt like they wouldn't stop until I crashed into him. I took the step, as if crossing over a barrier between when I should be doing and what pretty much everyone I ever met would tell me not to. But I didn't listen to everyone I ever met, because all of the positive things about them, all the joy they brought to me combined would never even match the amount Sherlock gave. And he just stood there, his smile lingering as I stood up on my tiptoes, experimentally pressing my lips to his. And there was the climax of my entire life, it seemed like everything could go downhill from there and I wouldn't care. The very life of Sherlock's angel soft lips would provide me with everything I could ever want. Since that was just a test I pulled away slowly, breaking our lips apart as if in the cheesy slow motion they put in movies. But in those movies they couldn't capture the very feel of a kiss, the feeling that every single missing piece in your life was just handed to you by a person, the person, that would make your life worth living. I stared into his eyes, not only seeing my half amazed half terrified face staring back in his pupils, but seeing galaxies in the green. He was truly amazing, he was too amazing, it simply wasn't fair. It was like God had lost one of his angels and sent it down to Earth as the beautiful boy in front of me.
"I..." He never got to hear what I was going to say, but I suppose given the circumstances neither of us really cared. He threw his arms around my chest, jamming his lips onto mine like his life depended on it. And at the moment it really did feel like it did. I didn't hesitate for one moment, because after whatever the heck I was going to say I would've done the exact same thing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pretty much just went with it all. The height difference didn't really come into play anymore, Sherlock was leaning down, almost on top of me, kissing me with all the built up love that both of us had been storing since we both laid eyes on each other. But all good things end I guess and this good thing ended with Sherlock pulling away abruptly. At first I thought he was just catching his breath, but he was backing away from me. At first I thought I had done something wrong, thought wrong, maybe he didn't share the passion I did, but he looked absolutely flustered.
"I'm sorry." He muttered as he let out a breath.
"It's fine, really." I said, catching my own breath and trying to process all that had just happened in my head. I couldn't, and it felt like I never could.
"I just want to take this slow, I've never done this before." he pointed out.
"It's fine." I repeated.
"I just... wow." He sighed. I laughed, I couldn't help it. I've never seen Sherlock look so human before. No more standing up straight and classy talking, he was leaning against the wall with his hair all messed up. I never knew such a small, dark cabin could be so amazingly delightful.
"Well, um, I guess I should probably go, dinner is waiting, but, you know, I'll see you later." I decided. Sherlock nodded, waving his hand in agreement.
"Yes, I'll look forward to it." he said, and the light started to glow. The last I saw of that world was Sherlock's smile, looking at me like I was the most amazing thing he's ever seen.