Monday, September 17, 2012

Loveable Freak Presents:Sherlock Holmes and the Chest of Reality (A Fanfic): Chapter 10

<--- Chapter One Here
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Chapter Ten

   “What?” Sherlock said.

  “Oh, don't pretend you don't know, murderer!” Moriarty announced, barely hiding his smug smile. “Carl Powers, Chaser for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, was killed mid-game. Someone shot a spell at him from afar. Knocked him off his broom, and...” Moriarty whistled, progressively lowering his pitch, to illustrate. “Gravity did the rest.”

  “And, Jim, who were they playing?” Moran chimed in. ("Huh," Sherlock thought. "Manchester accent.")

 “Oh, that's right, Sebastian.” Moriarty said in mock revelation. “Ravenclaw. And guess who we find here, coming downstairs? Ravenclaw House's own Sherlock Holmes.”

  Moran tugged the restrained John a little. “We saw his friend Johnny-boy here just happen to walk back to the game before Powers died. And we all know Gryffindor plays Hufflepuff next game. Obviously they're accomplices!”

  “Wait, Sherlock can't have done it!” Molly called from the crowd. She ran out to the front.

  “Oi! Shut it, lovebird! Your boyfriend's a murderer, deal with it!” Moran said sternly.

 “I'm not her boyfriend...” Sherlock said. Molly turned to the crowd, slightly hurt.

  (“Not good?” Sherlock mouthed to John. “You could've handled that better, yes...” John mouthed in reply.) 

  Molly continued in spite of Moran. “Sherlock's a terrible shot with a wand! Brilliant, no doubt about it, but a lousy shot!” She turned to Sherlock. “No offense...”

  Sherlock blinked and shook his head. “Oh, none taken...” he said, fine with having someone defend him.

  “It would make more sense if John, who's probably the best shot here, had cast the spell." Moran scowled, his pride seeming to be hurt. Molly continued, "If he and Sherlock were responsible. But, honestly; there's no realistic way, magical or otherwise, for him to do that and make it to the Quidditch field before Carl died!”

  “Besides, he wouldn't conspire against Hufflepuff. Holmes's nice to us. He pays attention to us!” Another Hufflepuff interjected. “Well, as nice as Holmes could be anyway.” A random student added.

  “Plus, he doesn't care much for sports...” John said. Moran pushed John's head down. “Quiet, you! Quit trying to make you and your accomplice look innocent.” Moran snapped. Moriarty scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Please, you people don't know how genius works...”

  Dumbledore cut through the mob. “Needless to say, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson, this is a serious accusation of Moriarty and Morstan...”

  “Moran!” Moran shouted.

 Dumbledore was unfazed. “I'm afraid we'll have to send you away to go on trial at the Ministry.”

  Sherlock and John exchanged a look. Moriarty sighed and snapped his fingers. Moran released John on Moriarty's command. “Everyone, back to your dormitories.” Dumbledore said, his head still facing the boys as he began to usher Moriarty, Moran, and the mob out. “Boys, you should pack.” he added, turning his head and leaving.

  Sherlock ran up to Molly, who was just about to exit. “Erm... Thank you, Molly.”

  Molly blushed. “It was nothing.” She pulled her tie out from under her uniform's sweater. “House of Loyalty, remember?”

  “Right...” Sherlock said. “Um... Sorry about that... outburst.”

  Molly looked at her shoes. “It's alright.” There was an awkward silence. “Well, good luck!” She said quickly. And she hurried to catch up with the others.

  John smirked. “What?” Sherlock asked, noticing his friend. John laughed and shook his head.


  Sherlock got a serious look on his face. “John, I know Moriarty is behind the murder.”

 John turned serious. “Of course. He's usually behind everything. “ he stated.

  “But,” Sherlock said, “we can't do anything about it, or work out how, until we get the stupid trial out of the way.” 

 "Right, one thing at a time..."

  The consulting detective groaned, annoyed. “Now I have to meet this world's Mycroft...”

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