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07

I suppose I should be glad that, as tests and finals go, 6th year is kind of a breather year. The OWLs are behind you and the NEWTs are still looming on the horizon but otherwise not an immediate threat. I personally didn't think the OWLs were all that bad, even though my marks were just decent. Nothing to write home about, especially since the family wouldn't know what nocturnal birds have to do with tests anyway. Still, good luck to everyone who's got to square off against the big tests this year, especially if you're still trying to get your head sorted after the school's most recent bout with strangeness.

Ah yeah, about that, the odd mind and body stuff. The only thing I had to deal with was a body that was about 20 years older than it ought've been (and the same height I am now, of course). I remember the whole thing pretty clearly, but I think that's because my mind wasn't changed. So... for those of you who've been told that their brains were mixed up, do you remember anything about those days at all? Is it like you blacked out for a few days, or is it all a little fuzzy, or do you remember all of it clearly?

I ask because I'm sure I'm soon to have a certain conversation, and this'll give me some insight on where that talk will fall on a scale of "awkward" to "stupdendously awkward".

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Especially now that our friendship has taken a turn for the not-exactly-platonic.

I was about to write something about how people our age generally don't run around in suits, but then I tried to picture you in jeans and trainers. And I just... can't. I can practically hear my imagination grinding to a baffled halt and feel smoke pour out my ears.

If that's the case, I will have to buy denim, trainers, and--what was it--a tea shirt? They look comfortable enough and then I am certain to blend in.

Does this mean we'll do the kissing and things again?

... 't-shirt', Sherlock. It's 't-shirt'. What you've written sounds like a shirt specifically for drinking tea in. And even if you do decide to throw cash around on a new outfit, you don't need something that specific.

[Those couple of inkblots? Probably happened while John went red-faced remembering the effects of the potion.] Do you want to?

It's not necessary but I know closed-mouth kisses are a normal expectation under the umbrella "dating" status with hand holding and embracing. I don't know that I'm much for the hand holding nonsense, though. Rather ties up a perfectly functional appendage that might be more useful not closed around yours and vice versa.

That is to say, most of my scientific inquiries were based on a foundation of appreciation for our time spent together so I'm certain I'm not opposed to most things. If you want to hold hands I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.

Honestly... I would like us to repeat some of the things we got up to while under the influence of that potion. Eventually and gradually. Because all that really was at quite a break-neck speed, and frankly it's a bit of a miracle that we didn't end up doing even more.

As for the hand-holding, it's quite nice if you're in the mood for it, but it's not something I need. But just being purely practical, it might be handy for keeping up with you if you decide to break out in a wild sprint like a St. Bernard chasing a rabbit, though.

If we are ever running from Scissor-Neck Flame-Tail again, I promise I will take your hand. Said promise extends to circumstances of related danger though participation may be called on more so than initiation if I'm particularly excited.

For the rest, gradual is fine. My initial response is keen but--as you've observed--that is based on previous exploits under magical influence. Through study I do find that I do not react unfavorably to kissing so I'd say we'd do well to establish that as a baseline. Tongues or without is up to your own discretion but both are amenable.

Also, I like you. Love. Whatever. I recognize that this entire conversation has been in keeping to that understanding but I wanted to say it. Well, write it. I wanted it to come from me. So, yes. I do. And I'm very pleased that you do as well. Realistically, I'll either destroy you or you'll make me a better person.

Fingers crossed.

Hopefully we won't need to run away from that damn rat again, unless it's smart enough to hunt us down in revenge. Or you're idiotic enough to drag us back into the forest. I think one of those is more likely than the other.

If I haven't broken from other things... and, if anything, you've helped me be less broken when I was at my unhappiest point... then I think you might have your work cut out for you when it comes to destroying me.

And you know, most people don't rush into dropping the "I love you" bomb in a new relationship. But I think it's kind of charming that you have. I love you too, you impossible weirdo.

I fully plan on revisiting the forest if that's what you mean. We didn't get to go in very far seeing as we were quite under prepared. Next time magic. Though I do applaud other me's ingenuity and your bravery.

The rat could have eaten us. It's been possible to have gotten you expelled twice now. Careful.

Of course. I shouldn't be surprised you'd want to head back. You never did find that elusive unicorn.

And God, please don't remind me what could've happened if we got caught. You might've been able to wriggle out of it since you weren't quite yourself, but I was of sound mind. We've only got one year left, let's not spend it getting kicked out.

Well, we have documented at least one indigenous species. Should be interesting to look for more. Besides, that was the most fun you've had in weeks and you know it.

You really do need to learn to just blame me. The most I'll have to deal with is Mummy's tutting.

Yes, if by 'documented' you mean 'imbedded a weapon in it and set it on fire'. In which case, we documented the hell out of it. Though maybe we're just throwbacks to the good old days of Imperial exploration where naturalists' thought processes could be summed up as, "Oh, a new species. Quick, drive it to extinction!"

Letting you take the whole blame wouldn't be honest or accurate, though. I could just refuse to join you on your mad adventures. But I don't.

I do not recognize your scissors as a classified weapon. You could have tailored it or trimmed its hair just as easily as stabbed it. Real weapons next time. And you show me before we go so I can deem it appropriate or not.

How will we differentiate between adventure and date?

Yeah, well, lack of an Official Sherlock Holmes Seal of Weapon Approval aside, it was the closest thing we had at the time. Your other self said the me he was used to had a gun, but I definitely don't.

Given how that last adventure ended, it's pretty clear that we can't tell the difference.

A gun would be nice for distance but a few good spells can carry just as well. Better even.

Also, that wasn't exactly me. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about you spending the night with an older man who clearly fancied you.

Spells are certainly more versatile, at any rate. And, if this sort of thing is going to happen again, it really would be nice to not get covered in rat blood a second time.

He didn't so much say that he fancied me as much as he completely let it spill that you do. If he'd kissed me, then, would you have tried charging off to God knows where or when or both to kill him? Hell, would that be murder or suicide/

I'm not sure where I stand on murder. I think I'm probably capable of it. Best not to start with alternate versions of myself, though. Leads to a very short career, I'd imagine. I'm less certain where I fall in with jealousy but I suppose I should be as grateful to the him-who-was-me as I am envious and terrifically annoyed.

Uh, yeah, let's not have any murdering happening, okay? Defending yourself or others from someone else's deadly attack is one thing, but maybe it's not the best to dwell on whether or not you're capable of committing murder.

You're envious of the other you? Huh. He mentioned being envious of you.

Of me? I was hardly even there! I was a memory trapped inside someone else's body. A someone else who got to fight off a giant rat in the middle of forbidden territory. And then he got another sleep over at the inn. He got to have all the fun.

Well, he did call you a spoiled brat, partly because he was in his thirties and had only met his version of me about a year ago.

Told you he fancied you.

If you're allowed to get a little huffy that it wasn't technically you who set a giant rat on fire, then I'm allowed to think that's because I happened to look like his John at the time.

I think you age well.

If you say so. I thought I just looked kind of average.

The years were definitely kind to you, though, that's for sure.

Yes, but you think you look average now even. You've a tremendously expressive face and age lines only added to the expressiveness of it. I don't suppose you realize how fascinating your face is in observation. I think you might hold the patent for several new emotive facial gestures.

No, I suppose I wouldn't know that kind of thing. It's not like I stare in the mirror and wait for myself to make rubbery faces. I think it's just part of human nature, not noticing your own quirks or guessing correctly what others think of them.

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