For secretlyjohnwatson, who requested Potterlock
“Why does it feel like it’s always snowing in Hogsmeade?” Sherlock huffed in annoyance, his breath visible in the chilly air.
John shrugged. “I think it was enchanted like this when it was founded. Charming little wizarding villages look so much more charming when covered with snow, don’t they?”
Sherlock scowled. “If I lived here I wouldn’t stand for it.”
“Good thing we don’t live here then,” John agreed. “I don’t think I’d want to be around while you tampered with ancient magic again; you’d probably set the whole town on fire.”
“That was one time! And you have to admit, we got through those annoying charms eventually.”
“Only because they collapsed when the building did, Sherlock…” John smiled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Look, once we find the rogue we can apperate out of here and never visit Hogsmeade ever again if that’s what you want. We just need to take care of this first.”
Sherlock sighed, twisting his wand between elegant fingers. “I am aware of our reason for being here, John. I was merely pointing out the atrocious weather; it would be much simpler to track a Dementor if it was hiding somewhere less frozen.”
John nodded. “That’s probably why it’s hiding here. Let’s get this over with quickly; I’m losing feeling in my toes again and I wouldn’t say no to another Butterbeer if the Hog’s Head’s still open when we’re through.”
Sherlock nodded in return and surged forward, suddenly very focused on the task at hand. John scrambled to keep up, his feet suddenly warm again. (Sherlock was disturbingly good at non-verbal spells, but John’s toes weren’t complaining). They had been tracking this particular rogue Dementor for the last three days and John was looking forward to putting this case firmly behind him. Facing a Dementor was never easy, but John had more dark memories than most and he wasn’t looking to relive the Battle for Hogwarts or Sherlock’s ‘death’ any time soon. With this Dementor secured, John and Sherlock would be free to take less emotionally painful cases, like botched summoning spells and magical (or Muggle) murders. John never looked forward to a random stabbing more.
Sherlock led John through the winding streets of Hogsmeade, his wand glowing as he cast and re-cast his favorite tracking spell. Dementors were not his usual fare, but Mycroft was insistent that Sherlock owed him a favor, and there were only so many times you could refuse the Minister of Magic before he sent Aurors after you…
John and Sherlock were so wrapped up in their own thoughts that they didn’t immediately notice the air around them growing steadily colder. It wasn’t until Sherlock’s wand practically jumped out of his hands that either of them noticed the Dementor directly before them. Sherlock snapped out of his revere and leveled his wand as John drew his own wand from the inside of his jacket. “That was faster than I thought it would be,” John muttered, shifting so he and Sherlock were standing side-by-side, their shoulders brushing. “Thank God we didn’t have to search all night…”
Sherlock hummed in agreement. “On my mark?” he hissed, conjuring up the memory of the first time he and John had kissed.
John smiled grimly, face determined. “Ready when you are,” he replied, focusing on the feeling of Sherlock’s lips brushing his.
Twin bursts of silver light erupted from their wands and charged the Dementor. The Patronuses worked in tandem, trapping the Dementor in a silvery web before launching themselves at the darkness that formed the Dementor’s heart. With a final hiss, the Dementor turned into fog and dissipated into the night, destroyed.
“Well done, John,” Sherlock said proudly, straightening up as his Patronus swam over to circle lazily above their heads. “I see you picked a very powerful memory as well.”
John grinned as his own Patronus waddled over to nudge at his cheek. “It wasn’t that difficult to come up with a good one,” he admitted. “I thought of the first time we kissed…”
“As did I,” Sherlock murmured.
John caught the detective’s eye and was about to say something when his Patronus moved. The silver hedgehog drifted upwards to join Sherlock’s otter, nosing at its tail curiously. The otter paused and stared at the hedgehog with interest. Slowly, both animals moved until they were nose to nose. There was a startled squeak from the otter, a happy grunt from the hedgehog and a burst of silver light as the Patronuses touched. When John and Sherlock could see again, the Patronuses were gone.
“It would seem they knew what memory spawned them,” Sherlock mused, turning to smile fondly at John. “Perhaps we should follow in their lead and make another happy memory.”
“Every memory I have with you is happy,” John retorted playfully. He leaned up and kissed Sherlock anyways.
(With love and apologies to J.K. Rowling and Devin) ~ Shoy
This is why I love Shoy so much! She loves to surprise me with lovely things!
Kili and Fili. You had one job. Where are the ponies
Will edit soon to tweak a few things here and there.
↳ one/four otps - johnlock
Benedict’s version of ‘Beotch I Might Be”.
if you think having thick hair is a blessing youre wrong
Missing you, sherlockedart. :(
I’ll hunt the monsters down and slay them all.
original base image by incisorteeth
screeches long and loud
IT HAS BEEN DONE. Finally .. after more than an year of postponing and procrastinating I did it in two days :D It’s not even remotely perfect but meh, I love it.
Harry Lloyd is pretty adorable for a bad guy <3 :3
i long for a simpler time. the good old days, when i was in bed, this morning
Rape has become endemic in South Africa, so a medical technician named Sonette Ehlers developed a product that immediately gathered national attention there. Ehlers had never forgotten a rape victim telling her forlornly, “If only I had teeth down there.”
Some time afterward, a man came into the hospital where Ehlers works in excruciating pain because his penis was stuck in his pants zipper.
Ehlers merged those images and came up with a product she called Rapex. It resembles a tube, with barbs inside. The woman inserts it like a tampon, with an applicator, and any man who tries to rape the woman impales himself on the barbs and must go to an emergency room to have the Rapex removed.
When critics complained that it was a medieval punishment, Ehlers replied tersely, “A medieval device for a medieval deed.”
- Half the Sky, Nicholas Kristof
REBLOGGING THIS. x1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000
A medieval device for a medieval deed - yes.
This is perfect