Filch took them all down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor where they sat and waited. Castiel was holding the sleeves of his coat to his mouth as if hoping to hide the panic that was spread across his face. After a moment he put an awkward arm around Hermione in an attempt to comfort her and stop her from trembling. It didn't help much but Hermione was grateful for the gesture all the same, even if Castiel was several inches shorter than her. Sherlock was sitting poker straight until he turned his head towards Harry and hissed, 'How could you be so stupid as to forget the Cloak?'
Harry opened his mouth to retort but Professor McGonagall walked in, dragging Neville with her.
'Harry!' Neville burst out the moment he saw them. 'I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag-'
Harry shook his head violently to make him shut up but Professor McGonagall saw him and she looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert.
'I would never have believed it of any of you- well, maybe you, Holmes- Mr Filch says you were up the Astronomy Tower. It's one o' clock in the morning. Explain yourselves,' she fumed. None of them said anything. This was the first time Hermione had failed to answer a question from a teacher- she just stared down at her slippers.
'I think I have an idea of what's going on here,' Professor McGonagall said. 'It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Mr Malfoy some cock and bull story about a dragon to get him out of bed and into trouble. Well I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?'
As a matter of fact, Sherlock did find it highly amusing, although now was perhaps not the most appropriate time to mention it.
'I'm disgusted,' Professor McGonagall continued. 'I'd have thought you and Mr Edlund had more sense, Miss Granger. I've never heard of such a thing before! Six students out of bed in one night! I thought your houses meant more to you than this. All of you will receive detention- nothing gives you the right to walk about the school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous- and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.'
'Fifty?' Harry gasped. Gryffindor would lose the lead they had won in the last Quidditch match.
'Fifty points each,' she barked.
'Professor please-'
'You can't-'
'Don't tell me what I can and can't do. Never have I been more disappointed and shocked at the behaviour of first-year students. Now, go back to your dormitories immediately and this will not happen again.'
Making their way miserably up the stairs, they reflected on how bad things were looking. Ravenclaw had lost one hundred points and Gryffindor one hundred and fifty. None of them got much sleep.
At first people walking past the giant hourglasses thought it must be some kind of joke- how could two houses have lost so many points in one night? And then the story spread: the famous Harry Potter had lost them all the points they had won in the last Quidditch match- him and some other stupid first-years. Everyone went around pointing and glaring at them, not troubling to lower their voices as they insulted them all through the corridors. Tensions were strained between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw as each blamed each other for their first-years. The Hufflepuffs refused to take sides but hated the both of them equally. The whole school had been looking forward to seeing Slytherin lose the House Cup at last. The Slytherins, however, were quite pleased with the turn of events and went about cheering and applauding, saying things like, 'Nice one, Potter, we owe you one'. Thankfully Ron and John stood by them and when they were all together it was almost easy to ignore the jeering, especially as Sherlock treated it as a minor inconvenience.
'Cheer up, Fred and George have lost loads of points before and they've always forgiven them,' Ron said bracingly one day.
'They've never lost two hundred and fifty points at once before though,' Harry said miserably. Ron grimaced.
'Gabriel got close once,' Castiel piped up. The past few days had been especially taxing on Castiel's nervous disposition and he had been refusing to leave the hospital wing except for lessons and only if he was accompanied by Sherlock. They were all in there now, keeping him company and having a respite from the glares of their fellow students.
'Really? What did he do?' Hermione asked curiously. Castiel smiled slightly.
'In his second year, he played a trick on our cousin Anna and accidentally set the whole fourth floor on fire. Professor McGonagall was furious. She took a hundred points from Hufflepuff and sent him home for a week,' he told them. It was hard to imagine Gabriel doing something so ridiculously reckless, but it made them giggle nevertheless.
Now that the exams were practically upon them, they were glad that they could spend their time buried in books rather than in the view of the rest of the school and Harry made a resolution to stop meddling in things that didn't concern him. Sherlock made no such resolution and continued to follow Lucy whenever possible and to try unsuccessfully to watch John while he was sleeping.
About a week before the exams were due to start, Sherlock followed her up to the Owlery, sneaking around and hiding in shadowy corners until she settled near a window and leaned on the sill, shaking in anticipation, tapping her hands and feet impatiently. Then a large, tattered-looking screech owl flapped up in front of her with a note tied to its leg. As she untied it, the owl pecked at her viciously, but she didn't seem to notice, even as blood dripped from her fingers. Her eyes raked through the letter, looking for something. Clearly she didn't find it as her eyes filled with tears. For a moment she looked like she might disintegrate into despairing sobs, but instead she brushed the water from her eyes and Sherlock could see the rage boiling up inside her. Her face twisted into a snarl and her hands shook so much she could barely keep hold of the letter. Suddenly she ripped the letter to shreds and screamed as loudly as she could, lashing out at the owl. It made a half-hearted attempt at her hand before fleeing for its feathery life. As soon as the pieces of parchment fluttered to the ground, Lucy yelled, 'Incendio!' at them, setting the room ablaze. Lucy screamed again while the owls hooted and flew past her away from the fire. Breathing heavily, she surveyed the destruction around her and her face became a mask of icy calm. She pointed her wand ant the flames and said, 'Aguamenti' and put everything out, leaving the Owlery in a cloud of black smoke. As soon as Sherlock was sure she was gone he crawled along the floor in search of anything, anything, that could be used as evidence, but unfortunately every bit of parchment had been burnt to a crisp. He groaned and stood up, brushing down his robes before running back up to the hospital wing where Ron and Hermione were studying with Castiel and John was sleeping soundly on the bed. Madam Pomfrey wasn't particularly pleased with them using the hospital to study but as far as she was concerned, as long as John was getting some rest and Castiel was safe, then it was fine by her. Sherlock sat down by Hermione and John twitched in his sleep.
'Any luck- why do you smell like smoke?' Hermione asked suspiciously.
'It doesn't matter. Where's Harry?'
'Dunno, I think he went for a walk or something,' Ron answered. 'Look, Hermione, I'm never going to remember all the stars in Orion-'
At that moment Harry re-entered the room and told them all about the encounter he'd just had with Professor Quirrell.
'Snape's done it then!' cried Ron. 'If he's broken through Quirrell's Anti-Dark Force spell...'
'There's still Fluffy though,' said Hermione.
'Yeah, but for how long?' Harry frowned.
'Yeah, I bet there's a book in the library somewhere about three-headed dogs-'
'There are no books in the library about three-headed dogs,' Sherlock cut him off.
'How do you know?'
'I've read every book in the library.'
'You have not! I've never even seen you with a library book.'
'Well clearly you weren't looking hard enough.'
'Enough!' Castiel said exasperatedly. 'The question is, what do we do now?'
Ron's eyes lit up at the thought of adventure but Hermione answered first.
'We go to Dumbledore,' she said, 'like we should have done ages ago.'
'With what proof? Quirrell doesn't seem very likely to back us up, the man's afraid of his own shadow,' said Sherlock.
'And it's not like Snape will just confess. Al he's got to say is that he doesn't know how the troll got in at Hallowe'en and then it's his word against ours,' Harry said.
'Not to mention the fact that we're not supposed to know about Fluffy or the Stone, we'd have a hard time explaining that,' Sherlock added.
'If we just did some poking around-'
'No,' Harry said firmly. 'We've done enough poking around.'
He pulled a map of Jupiter towards him to learn the names of its moons, and for a moment everything was quiet until John started mumbling in his sleep and rolling around in distress. Sherlock climbed over and started trying to shake him awake.
'John!' he said loudly. 'Wake up, you're having a nightmare!'
John's eyes flew open.
'Devil's Snare!' he gasped, looking around wildly.
'What?'
'What?'
'You said "Devil's Snare",' Sherlock told him.
'I did?'
Sherlock nodded. John shrugged.
'We learned about it in our last Herbology lesson. It's a scary plant.'
The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione, Neville and Sherlock at the breakfast table, presumably Castiel had received his in the hospital wing. They were all the same.
Your detention will take place at eleven o' clock tonight. Meet
Mr Filch in the Entrance Hall.
Prof. M. Mcgonagall
Harry had forgotten about their detention in the fallout over all the points they had lost and, judging by the look on his face when they met up with him, Castiel had certainly hoped that McGonagall had forgotten.
At eleven o' clock that night, Harry, Hermione and Neville said goodbye to Ron and met Sherlock and Castiel in the Entrance Hall. Filch was already there with Malfoy.
'Follow me,' said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. 'Bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule now, eh?' he continued, leering at them. 'Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me-'
'Yes well no one did ask you, did they?' Sherlock said.
'Not really the time, Sherlock-'
'You want to watch yourself, boy. It's a pity they let the old punishments die out. Time was if you spoke that way to any of your authorities you'd be hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons, I've got the chains in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, or it'll be the worst for you if you do.'
They marched off into the darkened grounds. Harry could feel Castiel shaking beside him and when he glanced over, he had his arms close to his chest and he was playing with his hands nervously.
'It's all right,' Harry whispered to him encouragingly.
The moon was bright and the grounds were bathed in a silvery light that would have been beautiful if any of them had been paying attention. Ahead, they could see the light of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.
'Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.'
Relief spread through Harry; if they were going to be doing their detention with Hagrid then it wouldn't be so bad. Castiel wasn't so reassured, having spent more than enough time with Hagrid to know exactly how lenient his definition of danger was, but it was better than nothing. Their relief must have shown, because Filch said, 'I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well think again, it's into the Forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece.'
At this Castiel and Neville let out small squeaks and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.
'The Forest?' he repeated, not sounding quite as cool as usual. 'We can't go in there at night, there's all sorts of things in there- werewolves, I heard.'
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
'Don't be ridiculous, there aren't any werewolves- just centaurs, Acromantula, a few unicorns- that sort of thing,' he said, picking up the pace, eyes shining at the prospect of doing something so interesting and dangerous.
Hagrid strode out of his cabin sporting a large crossbow and a quiver of arrows slung across his back.
'Abou' time,' he said grumpily. 'All righ' you lot?'
'Don't be too friendly with 'em, Hagrid. They're here to be punished,' Filch said. Hagrid frowned at him.
'That's wy yer so late, is it? Benn lecturin' 'em? 'Snot yer place ter do that.'
'I'll be back at dawn,' Filch said. 'For what's left of 'em,' he added nastily, heading back to the castle.
Malfoy turned to Hagrid.
'I am not going in that forest.'
Sherlock had to hold his breath to stop himself from laughing at the note of panic that had crept into Malfoy's voice.
'Yeh are if yer want ter stay at Hogwarts,' said Hagrid fiercly. 'Yeh've done wrong and now yer have ter pay fer it.'
'This is servants' stuff; it's not for students to do- I thought we'd be writing lines or something. When my father hears about this-'
'He'll tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts,' Hagrid growled. 'Writin' lines, what good's that ter anyone? But if you think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then you'd best get back up to the castle and pack. Go on!'
Malfoy glared at him furiously, but then dropped his gaze.
'Right then,' Hagrid continued. 'Listen carefully 'cause what we're doing tonight's dangerous and I don't want no one takin' any risks, now, follow me over here.'
He led them right up to the edge of the Forest and pointed at the ground.
'See that silvery stuff there? That's unicorn blood.'
Sherlock knelt down ad dipped his finger in it, eyes wide with fascination.
'It's been hurt bad by summat and it's our job to ter try and find the poor beast and put him out of his misery if we have ter,' Hagrid explained.
'But what if the thing that hurt it finds us first,' Malfoy asked fearfully.
'There's nothing in that forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang.'
'I want Fang,' Malfoy said, eyeing the dog's huge canine teeth.
'All righ' but I'm warnin' yeh, he's a bloody coward. Righ' we're gonna split inter three groups and follow the trails. Poor thing must've been staggerin' about since las' nigh' at least. Harry and Hermione with me, Neville and Draco go that way an' Sherlock and Castiel can go that way over there. Those two trails are quite close tergether, so Fang'll walk between yeh. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn we'll send up red sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now- that's it- an' if anyone gets inter trouble, send up some red sparks an' we'll all come an' find yeh- so, be careful- let's go.'
He handed Sherlock and Draco a lamp each before heading off.
The Forest was pitch black and Sherlock watched Hagrid, Harry and Hermione disappear in one direction and Neville and Malfoy in another. Sherlock felt a thrill of excitement bolt through him. It wasn't often a first-year student had the opportunity to explore the Forbidden Forest, with permission, so he headed quickly into the trees, barely remembering to shine the lamp at the ground. Castiel followed behind him, positively stiff with fear. They walked along the trail of silvery blood, the trees pressing in around them. For a while they could hear the sound of Fang loping along beside them and Neville's distant sniffling, but eventually all sound died out except for the faint breeze swishing through the tops of the trees. They kept walking and started seeing clumps of silver strands draped over low hanging branches and small bushes. Sherlock picked some up gently between his thumb and forefinger.
'Unicorn hair,' Sherlock muttered.
'Wh- what do you think is getting them?' Castiel stuttered.
'Nothing indigenous to this forest,' said Sherlock. 'It's incredibly difficult to catch a unicorn and nothing in here is fast enough.'
'So it's something else altogether,' Castiel shivered. Then they heard something that made their spines tingle. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby; it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Sherlock threw out an arm to stop Castiel from walking on and squinted through the darkness to try and see what ws making the noise. It faded away and Sherlock sighed in disappointment. Castiel mimicked him, only in a completely different tone. His knees gave way and he sunk to the ground. This was far too much for him. He wasn't brave like Harryor indifferent like Sherlock, who was currently pulling him to his feet.
'It's all right, Castiel, Fang's nearby- nothing will harm us,' he said. Suddenly a shower of red sparks flew into the air and Castiel gasped loudly and gripped Sherlock's arm, but neither of them moved to see what was going on, after all what possible use could they be in the dark Forest full of dangerous creatures and at least one unknown thing? Before they could decide what they should do, the pounding of many hooves descended on them and a herd of centaurs surrounded them.
'What are you doing in here?' a centaur with a smooth, chestnut body and long, black hair demanded, moving away from the bulk of the herd to stand in front of them.
'It's all right, Magorian, they must be with Hagrid,' another centaur with red hair and a beard said, joining him in front of the two boys.
'Even so, there are enough humans in the Forest tonight, they are creating disturbances,' Magorian said irritably.
'Trust me, it's not us, you must have seen the-'
Whatever the rest of Sherlock's sentence was going to be was lost as a figure emerged from between the two chestnut-bodied centaurs. His blond hair was ruffled and he was still in his pyjamas.
'John?' Sherlock said uncertainly. It was the first time all night that he sounded scared. He was also right, it was indeed John. He moved closer to the light of Sherlock's lamp, who noticed that his eyes had turned milky white.
'John, what are you doing here?' Castiel asked him, but Sherlock said nothing, knowing, for once, when to keep his mouth shut. John looked up at Sherlock's face and then up at the night sky.
'Mars is bright tonight,' he said slowly.
'How dare you speak to him?' Magorian said furiously. 'Leave at once or-'
'Magorian, wait!' the other centaur said. 'They're friends of his, what if one of them is the one we're looking for?'
'One of them may well be, Ronan, but we can't wait for him to present himself, they're already disturbing him,' Magorian pressed.
'Why is John here and not in bed?' Sherlock asked suspiciously. 'Centaurs think that humans are below them, so why would they want one that hasn't even reached manhood yet?'
'It is not your place to question our ways,' Magorian frowned haughtily.
'It is when it concerns one of my herd,' Sherlock said, folding his arms. Castiel glanced at him in confusion, but knew better than to question him at this precise point in time.
'You know a little of our culture,' said Ronan.
'Of course. Centaurs are far superior to humans, so natural I had to know as much as I possibly could,' Sherlock replied. Now Castiel could see what Sherlock was up to. Clearly centaurs responded to flattery. John still had his white eyes tilted towards the stars and they could hear Hagrid's voice in the distance.
'Then perhaps you know one of our most ancient prophecies, concerning the Oracle,' Magorian challenged.
'Of course, but you can't possibly think- not John?' Sherlock said, looking shocked.
'Sherlock, what is it?' Castiel whispered.
'It is none of your concern, human!' Magorian shouted, almost involuntarily. Sherlock ignored him.
'A few centuries ago, some centaur elders prophecised the arrival of the greatest Seer the world has ever seen. Centaur prophecies are generally quite accurate- if you believe in that sort of thing- especially if many of them predict the same thing. They called the Seer 'The Oracle' and they believe that he will lead the centaurs in a great battle for the Ancient Lands. I don't think they counted on him being human, though,' Sherlock explained.
'How do you know all that?' Castiel gaped. Sherlock shrugged.
'There are plenty of books about centaurs in the library. Most of them no one's even read. Even if John is the Oracle, you can't seriously think he would lead an army against his own kind?' Sherlock asked Ronan.
'We shall see,' he replied. 'I am impressed. If you know this much then maybe you have also heard the saying that goes along with it.'
Sherlock's eyes sharpened at the hint of new information. Castiel had relaxed somewhat, even though he was still pretty scared at least he knew what he was dealing with, and at least Sherlock new how to handle them; so he watched John carefully. He was swaying slightly and there was a certain eerie quality to him and Castiel was suddenly fervently hoping he wouldn't catch John's blank white eyes that knew things far beyond his years- and he felt that the centaurs must be right about him being the Oracle. The trees had stilled themselves and it would have been deathly silent if not for the centaurs pounding their hooves around them.
'I don't believe I've had the honour,' Sherlock was saying. Another centaur stepped forward, this one black-haired and wild-looking.
'Enough, Ronan, we've already said too much,' he said. 'We have much to teach the Oracle. Send them back to Hagrid and let us go.'
'Oh! I see!' Sherlock exclaimed, eyes alight with interest and glee. 'His dreams that he can never remember, why he's so tired all the time, all of it is you! You've been bringing him down here to teach him how to read the stars. I assume you've been using an ancient centaur magic that hasn't been used in so long that no one knows how to guard against it. What doesn't make sense is why you make him forget... Why do you make him forget?'
The centaurs glanced at each other, torn between outrage and begrudging awe. Finally, Ronan smiled.
'He must be the one. Though we do not concern ourselves with the affairs of humans but I think we must prepare ourselves for I believe these will one day involve us,' he said. The other centaurs agreed, if a little reluctantly.
'What is your name, youngling?' Ronan asked gently.
'I am Sherlock Holmes and you haven't answered my question,' Sherlock replied. Castiel kept as still as he possibly could, they seemed to have forgotten he was there.
'You're right, but he hasn't forgotten- not completely. He will remember when he needs to,' Ronan told him. 'Which reminds me- you must not tell him of what you have learned tonight. He is not yet ready and he must discover his destiny for himself.'
'Yes, I see, but is it really necessary to take him every night? He still has to go to school,' Sherlock said.
'He has much to learn and a wizard's magic takes too much time and energy. He has no need for it,' Magorian barked. Sherlock approached John and waved a hand in front of his face.
'I think he would disagree, even if he didn't being up all day and all night isn't good for him. He doesn't have the strength of a centaur- in fact he barely has the strength of a human,' Sherlock reasoned. 'John? Can you hear me?'
John slowly looked down and turned his pale eyes onto Sherlock. It felt as if John was gazing straight through him. The atmosphere sharpened considerably as everyone stared at John. The centaurs waited with bated breath- it seemed that something was about to happen. John opened his mouth.
'Sherlock,' he said plainly. The centaurs cheered loudly and stamped their hooves in celebration. Apparently John saying Sherlock's name was a good thing. When the cheering died down, Ronan faced Sherlock.
'Another prophecy went with the one about the Oracle. It is said that with the one with the power to See comes the one with the power to Observe. Those two are said to be intrinsically linked and we have been searching for him ever since we discovered the Oracle. We've know the little one for several months now and not once has he spoken any of our names,' he explained.
'So it's me because he said my name?' Sherlock said sceptically. 'My point still stands- he's not strong enough to keep doing this.'
'Perhaps you are right,' Ronan said. 'After all, he will be at school for another six years. What do think?' he asked the other centaurs. Most of them agreed but Magorian didn't seem pleased.
'We must keep him here. We must teach him,' he said hotly.
'He's just a foal, Magorian. If the Observant One says that he can't handle it, then we must honour his wishes,' Ronan chastised him.
'He is ours by right to take-'
'But he must also keep his own will. Enough, Magorian, he is not a centaur,' the centaur with black hair interrupted. 'Come, we must find Firenze. You may follow us until you find Hagrid and we will send the Oracle back at dawn.'
With that they set off at a gallop, all except a few who stayed to take care of John.
'Well they were surprisingly reasonable,' Sherlock chuckled.
They left a path that was easy to follow, so Sherlock shone his lamp down the path and he and Castiel followed it until they heard Hagrid and Hermione calling for them.
'Hagrid!' Castiel shouted. 'We're over here!'
Hagrid crashed through the undergrowth to their right.
'Yer all righ',' he gasped.
'Of course we are. We had Fang,' Sherlock smirked.
'Malfoy left Harry on his own, so we have to find him,' Hermione told them. Sherlock glared at Malfoy and they ran off in the direction that Malfoy pointed them in, before he bolted back up to the castle. After a while they thought they'd never find him, but finally they came across him on the back of a palomino centaur with white-blond hair.
'Harry! Are you all right?' Hermione exclaimed, running towards him. Sherlock and Castiel followed with Hagrid and Neville puffing behind them.
'I'm fine,' Harry said, looking dazed and pale. 'The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in the clearing back there.'
'Are you Firenze?' Sherlock muttered to the centaur.
'I am,' he murmured back.
'Your herd are looking for you.'
'I am aware. This is where I leave you, Harry Potter. You are safe now.'
Harry slid off his back.
'Good luck. The planets have been read wrongly before, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times.'
He turned and cantered back the way they'd come. Harry was shivering violently.
'What's wrong?' Castiel asked him concernedly.
'Nothing. I'll explain when we get back.'
Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. They shook him awake and he shouted something about Quidditch foul while Neville crept upstairs to bed. Ron was wide-eyed enough when they began to tell him what had happened.
'Hang on, let me get John,' Ron said.
'He's not up there, he's still on his way back up from the Forest,' Sherlock told them.
'What? Why?'
'The centaurs think he's this thing called The Oracle, so they summon him to them with their own magic,' Sherlock explained. Hermione's jaw dropped.
'What's an Oracle?' Ron asked.
'Not an Oracle- the Oracle,' Hermione said. 'It's the most powerful Seer that has or ever will be. I read in a book that the Oracle can see- well, everything.'
'Yeas but we can't tell him, he needs to find out himself,' Castiel reminded Sherlock.
'Wow,' Hermione murmured. At that moment the portrait hole opened and John shuffled in. They all stared at him. Sherlock noticed that his eyes were no longer milky and piercing, but they were half closed, which suggested that whatever spell he was under was still taking effect. They watched him walk over and he lay down across Ron. Ron grunted and pushed him off. Hermione winced as he crashed to the ground. He sat up and rubbed his head.
'Oh, hey, you're back. How did it go?' he asked.
'Harry was just about to tell us,' Ron said.
'Voldemort's in the Forest, feeding on the unicorns to keep himself alive. I saw him and he tried to kill me. I would have been toast if Firenze hadn't saved me,' Harry said. He stood up and started pacing up and down in front of the fire anxiously. He was still shaking.
'Who's Firenze?' Ron asked.
'He's a centaur,' Hermione told him.
'Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the Forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich...'
'Stop saying the name!' said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought that Voldemort could hear them.
Harry wasn't listening.
'The centaurs were furious about Firenze saving me. One called Bane said that he was interfering with whatever the planets say is supposed to happen.'
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
'And Voldemort's just out there waiting for Snape to get him the Stone and then he'll be able to come back and finish me off.'
Everyone but John and Sherlock looked very frightened.
'Everyone says Dumbledore's the only one that You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, he can't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic,' Hermione reassured. John was very confused, though he supposed he'd be able to work it out when he was less tired.
The sky was light when they finally finished talking and they decided to go to bed. Sherlock and Castiel fells asleep in front of the fire, where they had convoluted dreams of their own.