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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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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.

That being said, I'd rather be speaking to you face-to-face than continue this conversation in writing. Now that the awkward part is more or less past us.

I don't know if I'd say all of the awkward part is over, but the worst of it is behind us. Probably.

The weather's finally started to turn nice. The Courtyard in the free time after classes?

Sounds good to me. I'll see you then.

[In retrospect, as John makes his way to the courtyard after his final class, maybe he should have been more precise in telling Sherlock when after school and which part of the Courtyard to meet in. Then again, if anyone could figure it out in an instant, it'd be Sherlock. He loved a puzzle, after all.

As he arrives at the Courtyard, John sighs and rubs at his shoulder, weighed down by the extra books in his bag. Even in the extremely unlikely event that it takes Sherlock a while to find him, he can definitely pass the time studying for finals.]

[Sherlock had memorized John's class schedule. It hadn't taken long. He knew John finished before him and so only worried about getting there as fast as possible when his own class was over.

He tried not to jog excitedly to John but he was full of nervous energy. Would things be awkward? Would it be normal? If it was awkward, would they go back on the dating idea or think of something else? There was a lot riding on how well they managed to behave like their normal selves after their written conversation.

Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back as he came up the last few feet, not able to keep the hint of a smile off his lips.]

Hello.

[John had read the same paragraph in his potions textbook three or four times, absorbing precisely none of it. He was too distracted by the butterflies in his stomach to study too hard. Just one more reason to be grateful that 6th year is comparatively forgiving as far as major tests go.

He hadn't dressed up or tried ot make himself look especially nice. Sherlock seemed to like him well enough as he normally was, after all. Besides, he just had a feeling in his stomach that things would end up feeling odd, awkward, and forced if either of them tried changing themselves in a major way. It was adding additional aspects to a relationship, not a complete change from the ground-up.

Still, he jumps a little when he hears Sherlock's voice. But he smiles as he looks up from the impossible-to-concentrate-on textbook.]

Hi. I'd ask how your last class went if I didn't already know that the answer is "dull".

I had some manner of distraction to make it more tolerable. A few fellow students might have been a little unnerved at the smiling but the professor at least saw better than to make me put the journal away.

Go to see you haven't retained any wounds. Knew you wouldn't but it's still good.

[He had to keep reminding himself not to stand too close, maintain 'personal space' as it were. He was rather sure it made him look like a hovering idiot, though.]

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