Incant and Deduct Part 3 SH HPIncantations and Deductions Chapter 3-In which the author discovers 'plot'
Whispering started early on the Thursday morning. Carl Powers, second year Hufflepuff, had never made it to his common room or dormitory the night before. At first Sherlock didn't think much of it; kids were always getting lost. Still, it was usually the first years who took wrong turns on the staircases or got led astray by some of the cheekier ghosts. A second year, missing all night was not unprecedented, but it still wasn't normal.
By first break the whispers had increased, become distorted and salacious as long hours passed and Carl had not returned with a bashful smile or delivered to the infirmary with some minor injury.
"Someone saw him going down to the lake, is what I heard. He's a swimmer, you know...."
"I heard he's been visiting the head of Hufflepuff loads and he went to see the headmaster the other day. Wonder what that's about?"
"His parents were splitting up..."
"There are an awful lot of corrid
Incant and Deduct Part 4 SH HPIt's almost shamefully easy to get into the Hufflepuff common room then into Carl's former dorm. No one questions their presence or even seems to notice as a bespectacled, loping and unrecognizable Sherlock, cloaked John and a decidedly jumpy Greg head towards one of the many round doors which lead to the dormitories. The fact that they pass several students and no one pays them any heed is of no surprise to Sherlock. Everyone is understandably quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Some people are by themselves staring into space, some huddled in little groups, offering comfort.Incant and Deduct Part 4 SH HP5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
They pass quickly down the warren like corridor which leads to Carl's shared dorm. Fortunately the room is empty for the time being.
"If you'd told me what you were looking for," Greg is saying, "then I could have just got it for you." His arms are crossed over his chest and he's leaning against the four poster bed opposite from Carl's.
"Well yes, that's all very well and good, but I don't know what I'm
Incant and Deduct Part 2 SH HPIncantations and Deductions Chapter 2 (BBC Sherlock/ Harry Potterverse)Incant and Deduct Part 2 SH HP5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Even though Sherlock was fairly assured of his new friendship with John Watson he didn't expect John to come and talk to him at breakfast in the Great Hall on Monday morning. John only ate breakfast at the same time as other students four days out of seven, as the Gryffindor Quidditch team practiced on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays before lessons. Usually John would eat his breakfast and then chat with his (many) friends in Gryffindor or read whatever the owl had brought him.
Today though John sits down on the bench next to Sherlock, still eating a round of toast with jam, a cheerful "Good morning" mumbled around the bread. Sherlock is so surprised he closes the book he's reading (Brewing Charmed Possets from Everyday Kitchen Ingredients by Delilah Smythe) without marking the page.
"Morning." Sherlock replies. He's is acutely aware that all the students around them, particularly those sitting by the spot
Incant and Deduct Part 5 SH HPIt occurs to Sherlock while hurtling down the corridor, that he and John didn't even have to exchange a look before they started sprinting in the direction of the screaming. That probably meant something; either that they were completely in tune with each other or equally barmy enough to run towards potential danger.Incant and Deduct Part 5 SH HP5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
They found the source of the scream on one of the main corridors; surprisingly it was Rachel Howells, the vindictive little idiot who'd nearly killed John last year. Unsurprisingly she was overacting, Sherlock could see it as he and John round the corner and jog towards the small group that was slowly forming around her.
The scream was in response to a message, daubed on the wall, in what looks suspiciously like blood. Much too suspiciously like blood. Sherlock is itching to get a sample of the stuff.
"Oh god..." John whispers under his breath as he reads the message. Sherlock can't help reflecting the sentiment in his own mind. Not because he thought for one mo
Incant and Deduct Part 6The next morning John is in a fairly good mood when he first opens his eyes and is met with a room bathed with late autumn sun. Mondays means extra time in bed as he doesn't have to haul himself off for an early breakfast before Quidditch practice. Then he remembers the events of the previous evening and his good mood dissipates somewhat.Incant and Deduct Part 64 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Not that there was anything particularly distressing about his interview with Mycroft Holmes. Even though he'd been collected by a frankly eerie looking assistant (pointy face, stick thin to the point of being a broom handle, that straight blonde hair that marked her out immediately as former Slytherin fodder, immaculate white robes that John would manage to get dirty by simply looking at them if he were the one forced to wear them) and taken on a frankly baffling tour through back corridors, side passages, courtyards and possibly even a fourth dimension or three until they reached the room Mycroft had appropriated for their 'lit
Incant and Deduct 7A moment of rather baited silence hangs in the air after that particular revelation.Incant and Deduct 74 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"James. That is impossible." the headmaster states in a voice that is both soothing and balks no argument.
"It is! He said he was James and I should call him Jim and that he'd help me." Boscombe's glasses have practically fogged up as he looks at the headmaster beseechingly
"I assure you, James there is no boy at this school called James Moriarty." the headmaster says.
Sherlock's head whips round to the headmaster as Boscombe gasps. The old man's expression betrays nothing, but the skin around his eyes is tight, as if he is pained by something.
Surprisingly, it is Greg Lestrade who pipes up first. "But he could have been using a fake name, maybe? What did he look like, James? Had you seen him before?"
Sherlock is mutedly impressed by the older boy's ability to ask vaguely useful questions.
Boscombe shakes his head. "No...I don't think I'd seen him before. I only saw him a few times but he w
Incant and Deduct Part 8John was pretty excited about Christmas for once. Usually Christmas meant boring family occasions, Harry throwing a tantrum and eating too much. It was probably because his birthday was fairly close to Christmas anyway; he just couldn't get very excited. This year was different. This year the Triwizard Tournament meant he'd been able to meet up with his friends from Durmstrang (the ones on the Quidditch team and a few of the boys he'd met in the summer dragon training in Romania.) There was the prospect of watching the Triwizard tournament itself in the New Year. The school had decided that they would postpone it till January in response to the death of Carl Powers. And of course there was the Yule Ball. He was looking forward to an enjoyable occasion after the miserable business earlier on in the term, and it was nice to have an excuse to dance with Sarah.Incant and Deduct Part 84 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It didn't really surprise him that Sherlock wasn't exactly enthused about the whole thing. He'd only relented to John's nagging ve
Incantations and Deductions Chapter ElevenChapter ElevenIncantations and Deductions Chapter Eleven3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John makes his way to the Great Hall trying not to feel too downhearted. The beginning of fifth year has so far not been great: seeing Sherlock has churned up feelings that he doesn't want to examine too closely and which hadn't put him in the best of moods. Then his meeting with the head of Gryffindor had just been...well, shitty.
"I understand your desire to be back with your friends John, but you must understand that you attacked a fellow student in the midst of one of your nightmares. Now, whilst your Healers tell me you're improving they cannot guarantee that you won't relapse."
Arguing, John had realised, would have been pointless. The housemistress had been sympathetic but stern. It was an important year for everyone of his age at Hogwarts: they needed no distractions, least of all from one of their friends waking them up every night, screaming at things that weren't really there. John supposes he should just consider this as another case of 'taking one for the te
Incant and Deduct Chapter 9Chapter NineIncant and Deduct Chapter 94 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John is determined.
This year will be different. He isn't going to let the incident affect his life anymore. It had happened nine months ago, it was time to get over it.
He's going to move back into the Gryffindor dorm. He is, he is. He's a fifth year now he can't sleep in his own cordoned off bedroom because he has pathetic nightmares. He'll be taking his O.W.Ls at the end of the year; he's damn well not going to wimp out, crying off due to illness.
It's not as if he's actually ill, really, the twinge in his leg is nothing, and yes, he has a hideous scar on his shoulder but the physical therapy he's been doing over summer has meant that he has managed to strengthen his muscles. He might even make it back onto the Quidditch team; they've been doing abysmally since John has been unable to fulfil his role as keeper. And he's been doing really well getting back to the old John Watson, the Quidditch keeper and good friend, rather than the shadowy stranger he had bec
Incantations and Deductions SHObviously it took years for them to ever get around to speaking to each other. Sherlock reasoned that it was natural: as well as being in different, some might even say rival, houses, there was also the social class divide and the fact that Sherlock always gave off the general air of someone who never wanted to talk to anyone, in his life, ever. As a general rule Sherlock felt that unless someone was directly benefitting him by being alive in his presence he would do his best to tolerate them, but if not they could bloody well bugger off and do their dull living /breathing /sleeping /eating /talking /having fun business somewhere else.Incantations and Deductions SH5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His mother said it was just his age, that teenage years were awkward, his anti social nature was a phase he was going through. Sherlock rather suspected that it wasn't so much his age as his life. And he wasn't awkward, he was perfectly poised. It was the rest of the world that was awkward and unpredictable and usually mundane but occasionally
Incantations and Deductions Chapter TenChapter TenIncantations and Deductions Chapter Ten4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Panic moves like a lapping wave over the occupants of the Great Hall. Tension starts with one or two individuals, quickly spreading through the crowds as the band stops playing and an eerie, almost silent hysteria settles over the masses. Fear is amply communicated through wide eyed stares and startled expressions: at first everyone is too stunned to speak. But not for long. Amongst teenagers, who have the added pleasures of souped up hormones and peer pressure, the rumour and speculation spread like wildfire over barren shrub plains. Girls clutch each other in protective hugs, boys try not to look too terrified.
No one really speaks, however. Certainly people are whispering in stilted, trepidatious whispers but no one wants to be the first to ask anything at an audible level. And no one asks the obvious questions.
"Who is that?"
"What is happening to them?"
Mycroft isn't surprised he was able to apparate. He has gone from the corridor with the young French woman to the
Incantations and Deductions Chapter TwelveThe expression of shocked surprise on Sherlock's face would almost be comical if John felt anything like laughing. Someone died after jumping from John's window: of course Sherlock would want to check out the room. Obviously Sherlock's surprised that anyone as 'dull and mundane' as John could have worked out his plans.Incantations and Deductions Chapter Twelve3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"John." Sherlock begins and then seems to just stop.
John rolls his eyes. "It's alright, I know why you're here, I'm not going to bother you, just wanted to make sure you didn't do any weird experiments on my stuff."
Sherlock just nods, seemingly nervous. He doesn't move; it's as if his feet are rooted to the rug he's standing on.
"Aren't you going to get on with it, then?" John asks. He knows his tone is blunt, and if he's honest, verging on rude, but he's not the one who has just broken into someone else's room. It seems especially egregious after nine months of no contact between the two of them.
"Well, I-" Sherlock starts again and then breaks off his eyes darting up
Harry Knows BestJohn's in Waterstones Piccadilly when he gets the text. He's trying to decide on a Christmas present for Mrs Hudson. She'd expressed an interest in the new Nigella Lawson cookbook, but Jamie Oliver was on offer and he'd seen her get teary during an episode of his American series, when he was dressed as a pod of peas and being mobbed by children in a playground. Usually this would end up with the man being put on a register, but on celebrities it is apparently charming to be covered in kids. "Such a lovely boy..." she'd said, her eyes sliding towards Sherlock, who was attacking a cushion so he could study the scatter pattern of feathers when it had been stabbed open, and she sighed obviously wishing 'her' boys were as nice as that Jamie. John had gone and made the tea in the ad break without being asked and Sherlock had been distinctly heard to mutter 'suck up' under his breath as John handed him his cup.Harry Knows Best5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So he's holding two books, one with a grinning Mockney on the front and
BBC Sherlock - StudentsDr. John Watson shook his head in bemusement as he entered the flat.BBC Sherlock - Students5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
He could smell food, Carbonara if he wasn't mistaken. This could only mean one thing.
One of Sherlock's lesser known but more endearing habits was his tendency, when a case had been solved, to make up for his lack of eating and sleeping during his investigation. Running on the glee and adrenaline high of being proved right, he would go whipping around the kitchen like a whirlwind as he ate half his body-weight in food before crashing on the sofa and sleeping for about twenty hours solid. As the detective found the depression and boredom of inactivity began to sink in soon after, John had learned to savour the time while it lasted as soon after he knew Sherlock would be shooting holes in the walls again.
As John entered their front room, his eyes were automatically drawn to the sofa.
Sherlock was curled up on the sofa in an angular tangle of elbows, knees and lanky legs. He was snoring quietly, one hand resting on Glad
BBC Sherlock - GladstoneDr. John Watson bounced eagerly on the balls of his feet, trying to fight the urge to start grinning like an idiot. He felt like a child on Christmas Eve, all delighted energy and frustration that things were moving too slowly. For goodness sake, I've invaded Afghanistan, I've been shot in war, killed a serial killer in cold blood and now I'm acting like a three year old hyper on sugar! He mentally berated himself, but found he was too happy to care really. Sometimes acting like a child is good for the soul.BBC Sherlock - Gladstone5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sherlock Holmes looked sideways at him and couldn't quite stifle a small, indulgent smile. "You're mad, you know that?" He said, but his tone didn't match his words.
"Yeah." John beamed at him.
The smile widened and Sherlock looked away, shaking his head.
Currently they were stood in the waiting room of the local RSPCA centre, accompanied by a man with a flatulent parrot in a cage and a woman sat next to a carrier containing something that was either a ferret or an ewok. The
Curl Up and Dye SxJIt should be amusing actually, John thinks to himself. Had he really just not let himself notice? He'd been living with a man who forced him to notice things, who got disappointed in John when he couldn't see something that to Sherlock was just so bloody obvious it didn't even need one whole brain cell to notice it, work out what it meant and file it away. He had a feeling that if Sherlock had even the first inkling of what John was thinking now he'd get that look on his face which Mrs Clarkson would get when he handed in an essay on Alexander Pope late, riddled with spelling mistakes. "Really, John you must try harder next time."Curl Up and Dye SxJ5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock has had a haircut. Brilliant deduction so far, Watson, keep going old boy. His hair is now just a shade from being the length of a military recruit, dark fuzz covering his head where once it was those minky curls that looked so thick and soft, like you could bury hands into and loose them... and this is what John can'
BBC Sherlock-BabysittingJohn Watson rubbed his eyes wearily and summoned the last fragments of his patience. "Alright, run it by me one more time. You did what?"BBC Sherlock-Babysitting5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sherlock Holmes was, for some unfathomable reason, sopping wet and covered in soap suds. His clothes were plastered to his skinny frame and he stood dripping in front of Watson's armchair, peering down at his friend through his sodden fringe. "I ran through a car wash." He explained, calmly, for the third time.
John sat back in his chair, his eyes closing despairingly, and asked the question again. "Why?"
"Chasing a suspect."
"And it didn't occur to you to go around the car wash instead of through it?" Then John remembered this was a guy who, on the very night he met him, got hit by a car whilst chasing a suspect. Sherlock may have been incredibly intelligent but the tunnel vision he got when a suspect was in sight often led him to do chronically stupid things. Rather like running through an operational car wash . . .
"Well, he w
SH: The Boy and His SkullSH: The Boy and His Skull5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"I don't understand these grades at all, isn't he settling in?"
Sherlock was up in his room and he could hear his father's voice downstairs the slightly pleading note in it that the man always got when he was trying desperately to understand something that confused him which, in this intellectually acute household, was often.
"I mean, I understand that the move to secondary school has been hard on Sherlock, but these are just.....I mean, he's a very clever child, I don't understand. How can he fail everything?"
"Weren't you supposed to be looking out for him, Mycroft?" he heard his mother accuse, her voice stronger, attempting to take action. Having been a teacher herself some years ago, she rather dominated this conversation, pushing his father back to only making empathetic but generally useless comments.
"I can only do so much, mum." Mycroft replied, sounding offended. "I can hardly force him to make friends, or participate in class, and if he doesn't bloody well sp
BBC Sherlock - UndercoverSince he had started living with Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson had gotten used to coming home to strange sights.BBC Sherlock - Undercover5 years ago in Humor More Like This
However, he had to admit to himself as he stood in the doorway, this one took first prize for out-and-out weirdness.
Okay, this one even beats the time I came home to find him systematically nailing himself to the floor by his clothes. And the time I found him re-enacting a black magic ritual to get inside the mind of a murderer. Come to think of it, you can still see the chalk from that pentagram on the floor. I'm surprised Mrs Hudson never said anything about that . . . Oh, and then there was that time with the dead octopus . . .
John was well aware he was doing a lot of mental babbling, but the alternative was that he consciously took in the fact that Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, was currently being laced into a corset by his eldest niece and her friends.
Sherlock wheezed out an expletive. "Chr-ist! Gently Squid!"
"Sorry Mr. Ho
BBC SH - Unspoken TruthsThere is no terror comparable to a nightmare.BBC SH - Unspoken Truths3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Certainly, terrible things happen in the waking world and they shatter your heart into glassy shards of pain. But after a while the feelings become too big to comprehend. You just feel numb. You tell yourself that you must be asleep, that none of this is real. A simple act of kindness from your brain in an attempt to deal with the dreadful reality. Shh, it says, it's alright, you may be asleep. You may wake up yet . . .
Of course you never do, but you can cling to that tiny little notion and use it as your lifeline until your heart settles enough to process the truth. You see that the horror is real. You waver but stand tall. Then you gently let go of the comfort of delusion and take your first step on the road to acceptance.
Nightmares have so such sense of mercy. Nightmares worm black tendrils deep into the heart of you and find the piece that hurts the most, curling around it and whispering treacherously that this is your reality now.