John entered the portrait hole and wasn’t surprised to see Greg sitting in an armchair by the fire, staring dreamily into the flames. John sat down in the other chair, but Greg didn’t show any signs of noticing he was there.
“So, how was it?” John asked.
“Perfectly, amazing, perfect.” Greg repeated, sighing with a goofy smile on his face.
“What happened?”
“We danced, we kissed, we left, it was amazing, I love him, he’s perfect.” Greg muttered quickly.
“You love him!” John exclaimed, a smile on his face growing. Greg sighed, not answering but smiling and resting his head on the back of the seat. John took that as a yes.
“How about you then?” he asked after a moment.
“Me what? Oh, she showed up, but with the Ravenclaw quidditch captain.” John said, adding a little bit of fake disappointment just so Greg didn’t think he was crazy. Greg’s little bubble of happiness burst, making his sit up straight in the chair with a look of pure hatred on his face.
“What! How dare she, you asked her, that’s not fair, get a refund!” he exclaimed. John laughed, which made Greg even more confused.
“I don’t care, really, well, I did then.” He scanned the room, but most of the people had left for the dorms, all of their energy drained from the dance. “But I was having a little bit of an anger rush, I broke some mirrors in the bathroom, but then Sherlock came in, and he asked me to dance, there.” Greg’s face turned from anger to pure amazement, like a teenage girl when her favorite couple got together.
“Oh my god did you say yes?!” He exclaimed with a squeal.
“Yes, yes let me finish! Anyway, we danced for a little bit, and then we stopped, but he didn’t let go of my hand, and we kind of just stood there, talking, neither of us moved back, and I don’t really know what that means, was it just strong friendship or was it like, relationship, I have no idea.” John said, his words mixing together.
“We-“ Greg started.
“Shut up and let me finish!” John said immediately, making Greg close his mouth. “As I was saying, then we went to the dance and I ate something because I had skipped dinner, I saw you by the way, and he just kind of watched me, as if I was more interesting than anything else in the room, which by the way had dancing skeletons.” John pointed out, thinking they were far more interesting than he was. Greg, thankfully, didn’t interrupt this time.
“So then it was getting to stuffy in there so we took a walk outside and somehow found ourselves behind the castle, and I stopped, so he stopped, and we kind of just looked at each other, and then I kind of just lost all common sense and I actually stepped closer to him, and he leaned down, and we were so close, and it felt like we were going to kiss, but I snapped out of it and said something and then we came back here.” John explained. Greg’s mouth was hanging open with surprise and excitement.
“Why’d you pull away are you crazy?” he asked.
“No, I was just becoming sane; don’t say you’re actually supporting this!” John pleaded.
“So let me get this straight, he was leaning down, did he look like he was actually, for it?” Greg asked.
“Totally, and afterwards he seemed so disappointed, I kind of felt bad, but…”
“Well yes you should feel bad, you two are so perfect for each other!” Greg interrupted.
“Greg this is serious, I really have no idea what to do, we’ll see each other tomorrow and I don’t want everything to be awkward.” John debated.
“Of course it will be awkward, dude, he totally likes you, just kiss him!” Greg insisted. John groaned, unfortunately his only source of information was a complete idiot.
“Please Greg, be serious!” John demanded.
“Okay, okay, how about you pretend it never even happened, like you’re both just still only friends, very oblivious friends?” Greg decided.
“I doubt that’s going to work, what if he tries to kiss me?”
“Why are you coming to me with all of this drama?” Greg asked.
“You’re the only one I trust enough, and besides, the only reason you didn’t come to me is because you kept you and Mycroft secret forever.” John pointed out.
“Well, if he tries, maybe let him, just see what happens, maybe you’ll like it.” Greg said, raising his eyebrows.
“You’re an idiot.” John decided. He doubted Sherlock wouldn’t try anything one day after the incident, but it was best to keep safe. Greg shrugged, as if he knew it was true, and got up from his chair.
“I’m going to bed.” he decided, walking sluggishly up to the dorms. John followed, getting more tired with every step he took.

                The next morning the entire castle slept in, everyone was exhausted from staying up late last night at the dance. John woke up at maybe eight o’clock, burying his head in his pillow and not wanting to leave the cozy warmth of his blankets. He had no idea what today would bring, he didn’t know if he wanted to see Sherlock or if he wanted to stay as far away as possible. There was no mistaking it, Sherlock had been totally fine with the possibility of a kiss last night, he actually seemed to want it. John sort of felt bad when he pulled back, but it was a mystery to him why he started it in the first place. It was like he was lost, staring at Sherlock, his emotions were probably all out of whack, he would never have done that if he hadn’t been depressed, angry, excited, nervous, and thrilled all at the same time. It was just, Sherlock had pulled him back to his feet when he thought he’d never get over Mary’s betrayal, he had been there for John when he had no one. And dancing with him, real dancing, not practice, had been magical, they both were in step, nothing went wrong, and John wouldn’t miss a moment of looking into his eyes, as if they led him to another world. But John wasn’t into Sherlock in, that way. He was a great friend, but John didn’t want to go aby farther than friendship with him.
“John get up!” Greg groaned. Joh opened his eyes, having been lost in thought. Greg was still lying in his bed with his face laying on the mattress, and John looked up just in time to get hit in the face with Greg’s pillow.
“Oh, good morning.” Greg said innocently.
“Was that necessary?” John demanded, his threatening tone lost when he yawned.
“I’m hungry!” Greg moaned.
“That’s fascinating.” John sighed, deciding it wasn’t worth trying to go back to sleep or dreamland. Greg didn’t show any signs of moving anyway.
“If you’re hungry you have to get up, that requires something called effort.” John pointed out sarcastically. Greg’s feet slid out onto the floor from under the covers, but that was about it. John got up himself, shuddering when his bare feet touched the cold wooden floor. He pulled on his jeans and Gryffindor sweater, deciding he wasn’t in the mood for robes, and besides, this was much warmer.
“Greg, up, I swear if you got me up for no reason you will suffer.” John said. Greg didn’t move, so John flicked his wand, making the blankets fly to the end of the bed so that Greg had to get up, it was much too cold for lying in bed without a blanket. Greg shrieked loudly, making the other boys bolt up with a start and John laugh so hard he had to sit down. By the time they were in the Great Hall they were already getting watched, people saw Greg and started whispering to each other, not bothering that John was watching them. It didn’t take long for John to guess what it was about, the dance. Apparently people had taken notice of Greg and Mycroft, which was hard not to miss. Greg was aware, but he didn’t show any signs of caring, and John didn’t dare bring it up. They ate in silence, the two Holmes brothers nowhere to be seen. John noticed the Slytherins watching them, laughing among themselves. John really wanted to start a fight, noticing that Anderson was among them. But he didn’t do anything, and neither did Greg. As long as they kept their jokes to themselves they were safe, but one move at Greg and John would personally send them down the throat of a giant spider. He watched the door, and finally Sherlock walked in, alone as usual. He glanced to the Gryffindor table, but once he saw John staring back he immediately kept his head down and picked up his speed, disappearing behind a group of Hufflepuffs. John was certain he was being extra awkward about this, thinking that John hated him and thought he was a creep and all of these other insecurities that he had. Mycroft entered a little bit later, looking around for Greg, who had already gotten up. John was left to eat his toast alone, staring at his plate and feeling particularly lonely. He hoped Sherlock would come over, but as soon as he was done the seat next to him was still empty, the half-eaten pile of hash browns being the only sign it was every occupied.  John doubted Greg was coming back, so he got up and walked over to where Sherlock was sitting. He had his head low, not eating anything but had a book under the table, as if he was worried people would catch him reading it.
“Hey Sherlock.” John said casually, even though his heart was beating faster with nervousness. Sherlock looked up, almost in surprise, and shut the book immediately.
“Hello John.” he said quickly, obviously as nervous as John was, maybe more. John looked around the room, trying to think of anything to say.
“Um, sleep good?” he asked, which was about the stupidest thing he could’ve asked.
“I guess so.” Sherlock shrugged.
“Ya, me too, mind if I sit?” John asked, recognizing that there was plenty of open space around Sherlock. John wondered why there wasn’t at least one or two Ravenclaws even close to him, it wasn’t like he smelled bad, in fact, he smelled amazing, as usual. John hated himself for recognizing that.
“Sure.” Sherlock said, scooting over a bit to make room, not like he needed any. John sat next to him, both of them looking at anything other than each other, their plates empty.
“So, any plans for the day?” John asked.
“No.”
“Well, I think me and Greg might play quidditch or something, unless he’s making other plans.” John shrugged.
“No quidditch, thanks.” Sherlock decided.
“I didn’t say you had to play, you can just watch, or we could try to teach you better.” John offered.
“I don’t see any use for flying, thanks.” Sherlock said, dropping his voice to a nervous little squeak.  John didn’t know if he should say anything about last night, apologize maybe? He hoped Sherlock hadn’t taken it to heart, which, being Sherlock, he probably did.
“Well, if you have any recommendations be my guest.” John decided.
“I’ve got homework.” Sherlock said.
“For what?”
“Potions, essay.” He muttered.
“I did that on Saturday, bloody awful.” John pointed out. Sherlock didn’t answer, fiddling with the cover of his book.
“I should go.” Sherlock decided, grabbing his bag from underneath the table and stuffing the book in it.
“Where are you going?” John asked, kind of hoping for an invitation.
“Common room, I need to write the essay.” Sherlock said simply.
“Do you want to meet up after then?” John asked hopefully. Sherlock paused, thinking.
“Sure, uh, how about at lunch?” he agreed, even though he sounded a bit nervous. John nodded, giving Sherlock a small smile before he walked off, his bag dangling from one shoulder. John sat there for a moment, planning on what he was going to do with his life until then. It took him a moment to remember he was at the Ravenclaw table and was getting some confused glances from some of the residents, so, with an awkward apology; he left the Great Hall, Mycroft and Greg nowhere to be found. He wandered up to the common room, dreading sitting up there alone again. When he climbed through the portrait hole he found an available armchair, waving his wand so that his Quidditch Through the Ages book came zipping from the dorms, almost hitting a first year in the head, but he was too lazy to get up. He read through the book, watching all of the players zoom around the pages, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to absorb any of it. He wondered why Sherlock seemed to be avoiding him, it’s not like he wasn’t being friendly, he acted as if nothing had happened, which was always the best course of action. Although he pretended, the memory had permanently branded itself in his memory. It wasn’t as if it was even a bad memory, it was more of a regret memory, the ones where you look back and just cringe. Sherlock would probably think John had led him into some type of trap, trying to see if he would take the bait and then pulling away. Which led John to think, what would’ve happened if he didn’t pull away? What if it had continued and they had actually kissed? Would John have pulled away immediately, or, not? He didn’t know if he wanted to find out, but there wasn’t a definite answer. And what would Sherlock have done, John imagined he couldn’t keep that kind of bravery up for long; he’d probably have jumped away after maybe three seconds, absolutely terrified. The thought made John smile, imagining how awkward Sherlock would be for the longest time. He was like a little kid even though he was what, probably sixteen? He looked so mature, but inside he was a scared six year old, thinking that everyone was out to get him and make fun of him, and any interactions of anything more than friendship scared him. John was willing to bet Sherlock thought girls had cooties.
“If I ever need to find you, I just have to go to the most open space in the room, and there you are!” Greg said, climbing from the portrait hole. To John’s disappointment Mycroft followed him.
“We’re going flying, we were wondering if you’d like to join us.” Mycroft said. John smiled, running up to get his broom from upstairs. At least he got to enjoy some flying, even if it was with the love birds.
“Where’s Sherlock?” Mycroft asked as they were walking down the halls.
“He said he had some homework to do.” John said.
“That’s odd; he claimed he had done it all on Saturday, before the dance.” Mycroft said.
“That’s all he told me, sorry.” John said, which was true. He frowned though, what else could Sherlock be doing other than homework? Was he downright avoiding John?
“How was the dance for you two anyway? I know you were with him, but that’s all.” Mycroft asked.
“Oh, it was fun, ya.” John said quickly. Obviously Mycroft had been kept out of the loop, which was no shock really; Sherlock didn’t seem the type to go pour out his soul to his older brother.