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[personal profile] seeagreatergood
Late January at Hogwarts tends to be a gray, claustrophobic sort of time. The excitement of coming back from Christmas holidays has worn off, Valentine's Day is still a few weeks away, and the weather's terrible. A recent cold snap has kept people indoors more than usual, and a nasty cough has been making its way through the Hufflepuffs.

Tempers are short.

Professor Anderson wanders the halls in the evenings after dinner, keeping an ear out for trouble. It's Hogwarts; the chances that some student, somewhere, is doing something dangerous are practially 100%.

Date: 2011-10-02 03:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
Antagonizing Sherlock Holmes, for example, is a risky proposition.

Not because she'll retaliate against mere words—she never does—but because of what happens when some incautious soul draws a wand on her.

For example:

"...and everyone knows you're just biding your time," a seventh-year Gryffindor hisses.

There is a short interval of quiet, punctuated by only one set of rapid footsteps.

"Look at me when I talk to you!"

Nothing.

"I said—"

And all of a sudden there are two people around that corner up ahead, and one of them has just gone for his wand and the other is summarily preventing him from reaching it.

Date: 2011-10-02 03:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
Sherlock has excellent reaction time, and understands immediately what is going on.

The other fellow is a little slower.

There is a cartilaginous crunch, a low snarl, and the sound of a body hitting the ground with another body on top of it.

"Thank you for your input, Professor," says Sherlock, with some difficulty and an obvious speech impediment thanks to her freshly broken nose. The annoyance comes through loud and clear regardless.

As for the boy she is currently sitting on with her elbows digging into his back, he has nothing to contribute to the discussion. Give him a minute.

Date: 2011-10-02 12:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
David McFarland finds that the Slytherin skank is suddenly not pinning him to the floor. He stands up, moving slowly although he is mostly uninjured.

"She attacked me, Professor Anderson," he whines.

"Lies," says Sherlock, indifferently. She doesn't provide an alternate explanation.

Date: 2011-10-02 03:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
Both students follow his direction—Sherlock quietly but not silently, McFarland with a great deal of slouching and grumbling and an almost completely fabricated limp.

Date: 2011-10-02 04:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
He doesn't, actually, but a vague and distant memory of falling off a broom in his second year convinces him that Professor Anderson is probably right. He shuts up.

Sherlock, who has been to the Infirmary a number of times, tucks her hands into the pockets of her school robe and says nothing at all.

Date: 2011-10-02 04:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
Her chuckle is only barely recognizable as such, but she accepts the handkerchief and holds it to her bleeding nose.

Date: 2011-10-02 04:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
As they near the appropriate hallway, Sherlock begins to smile.

McFarland edges away from her. His fear is not exaggerated at all.

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Date: 2011-10-03 10:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
It's half three in the morning and long past time to go back to bed. Someone is going to notice they've been out.

A certain door in the fifth-floor corridor opens.

Date: 2011-10-03 10:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allthebrightest.livejournal.com
Tony stifles a giggle as she follows Sherry out, both of them under a strong Disillusionment.

Date: 2011-10-03 10:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allthebrightest.livejournal.com
The footsteps halt abruptly.

Date: 2011-10-03 10:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
When she is sure Tony understands they are potentially being observed—she can't tell by whom, which argues for Anderson or Weatherwax or possibly the Headmistress—Sherlock takes her hand and leads her down the corridor a little more slowly.

Date: 2011-10-03 10:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allthebrightest.livejournal.com
But nothing Sherry can do will give Tony Stark natural stealth.

Date: 2011-10-03 10:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allthebrightest.livejournal.com
Tony squeaks.

...oh. Of course. Professor Anderson has no reason to care that they are invisible.



Maybe if she just doesn't answer him...

Date: 2011-10-03 11:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] allthebrightest.livejournal.com
"...I totally don't," she says helplessly. "Hi, Professor Anderson. Um. Insomnia?"

Date: 2011-10-03 11:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] calendarofcrime.livejournal.com
Sherlock does nothing whatsoever to advertise her presence.

Except, perhaps, smell like Earl Grey instead of motor oil.

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