A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! OMG I'M BACK!!!!! Finally!! lol...So sorry this took so long!!! Lots of drama at work has left me pretty much numb to everything....Literally...There are two whole days I don't remember because I was too stressed to function...Anywho! Here is a PotterLock fic for you all!!! Hope it turned out alright!!!! Enjoy<3

***Also...I posted this question on my wall a few days ago but I don't know how many of you saw it so I'm also gonna ask it here....Would any of you read a JohnStrade fic? I read one on AO3 last week and was really into it...Let me know as I do have an idea for one but won't bother posting it if no one will read it...***

"So, how are things with you?" John groaned, dropping his head against the bar. He was at the pub, having drinks with Mike Stamford, a friend from school.

"How can a muggle with a brain like his, seriously be that stupid?" Mike laughed, clapping a hand on the back of John's shoulder sympathetically.

"That bad, eh?"

"I damn near got caught by the Ministry of Magic last week trying to keep the fucking clot from freezing to death after he followed a suspect into the Thames." John ran his hands over his face, sighing heavily and spinning his mug of Butterbeer in front of him. "I've had to obliterate Greg three times, but Sherlock? Not once." Mike laughed again, nodding in understanding and taking a swig of his own drink. "I blame you for this." John grumbled, glaring at his friend.

"Oi! Don't blame me! I warned you about Sherlock Holmes before I introduced you two. It's not my fault you fell-"

"Sod off." Mike laughed again, a full, happy sound that John couldn't help but smile at.

He had met Mike on the train to Hogwarts his first year there, and they had been mostly inseparable since. He trusted Mike more than anyone, and he knew the other wizard would be able to keep his feelings about his new flatmate secret.

"Did you hear about what happened at Hogwarts? That Potter kid killed old What's-His-Name." John used the conversation to distract himself from thoughts of his muggle flatmate.

John had only got a few steps into the flat later that night before he was being pushed back out the door, Sherlock chattering on about a case.

They arrived on the crime scene, Sherlock bounding out of the cab ahead of John, who rolled his eyes and patiently paid the cabbie before following the other man.

When he stepped onto the crime scene, John felt his blood run cold with terror.

Two men, dressed in sharp suits with green and grey scarves draped over their necks, stood between Sherlock and the body, stopping his muggle friend from investigating. One of the men caught his eye just before everything around them froze, the team of muggle officers and Sherlock frozen in time.

"Captain Watson?"

"Brian? What is going on here? Why is the Ministry at a muggle crime scene?" One of the men, who had served under John's command in the war, stepped around Sherlock, offering John a casual salute as he stopped before him.

"This isn't a muggle crime scene Captain, a Dementor did this." John nearly recoiled in shock at the mention of the dark creature. He had only seen Dementors once before, while delivering a prisoner to Azkaban years ago.

"A Dementor? I thought they were bound to your command?"

"I'm sorry Captain, but that information is-"

"Don't brush me off Brian, I'm still your commander." The other wizard blushed lightly and sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"I'm sorry Captain Watson, but we have our orders. Unless you have clearance from the General himself, I can't tell you anything." John pursed his lips, nodding as he glanced at Sherlock.

"Let us help you. Sherlock Holmes is-"

"-A muggle, Sir." John fought down the flare of irritation at the other man's words.

"Yes, he's a muggle, but-"

"I'm sorry Sir, you know the rules-"

"But Sherlock-"

"-is a muggle. Their kind are not allowed to know about us. I'm sorry Sir, but he will be obliterated and sent on his way, as will the rest of them." John sighed, closing his eyes and nodding simply. He understood why it had to be that way, but that didn't mean he had to agree with it.

The spells were cast and John escorted a mad, confused Sherlock Holmes back to Baker Street, letting the detective eventually decide that Mycroft must have been behind their wild goose chase.

John met with Mike again a few weeks later, hoping his friend would have some details about the Dementor case.

"Dementor? Here? Nope, haven't heard anything about that." John frowned into his Butterbeer, trying to fight the uneasy feeling that had begun to coil in his chest. "Maybe the Ministry is keeping it quiet? Don't want to freak out the muggles, or whatever." John made an affirmative sound, taking a drink and frowning into the mirror across the bar. "Something bothering you John?"

"Nah, just tired Mate. Sherlock's been in one of his strops since we got kicked off that murder case a few weeks ago, and Greg hasn't had anything for us in a while. I'm about to lose my bloody mind." Mike laughed, shaking his head and taking a swig of his own drink. "How not-good do you think it would be if I just shoved my wand down his throat?" Mike laughed harder, nearly falling off his stool in glee.

"I-I think- I think you both would enjoy it more if you shoved it somewhere else, Mate-" John blushed, shoving his friend and reaching for his wallet, throwing down a few bills and pushing himself off the stool. "Come on Mate, you know I was kidding, right?" John finally laughed, clapping Mike on the shoulder and shrugging his jacket on.

"I know Mike, but I do have to get going. Sherlock was digging out his chemistry kit before I left, and that usually means dangerous acid and the Fire Department getting called." The pair said their goodbyes and John made his way out of the hidden pub, digging his mobile out of his pocket to check for messages.

Thirteen missed calls, fifty-five new texts, and twelve voicemails.

"Shit." John quickly dialed his flatmate, cursing the wizarding world's lack of modern technology. Sherlock answered instantly, his tone laced with irritation and concern.

"John? Where have you been? You didn't answer my calls-"

"Yeah, sorry Mate. There was a game on, and the pub has shoddy reception. What's going on?"

"Case. Lestrade called, I sent you the address."

"Alright, I'll meet you there then."

When John arrived on the scene, he was only partially shocked to see Sherlock amid a heated discussion with Anderson.

As John approached the pair, his attention wandered to the body that was sprawled out on the cement. His body froze when he took in the markings that painted the young girl's body, his mind flashing back to the war, the incident that had sent him home so broken.

He knew those markings, they haunted his darkest dreams, the memory of them sending terror and pain through his body.

There was something wrong with the wall above the body, and as John's mind slowly settled, the unreadable scratches became clearer. He let his wand slip out of his sleeve, keeping it hidden as he softly muttered a revealing spell.

FOR SHERLOCK HOLMES 😊

Bile rose in John's throat as he read the note, tightening his grip on his wand to avoid dropping it.

Someone, a wizard, was after Sherlock. They had killed to get his attention, and clearly had immense power at their disposal.

"John?" A firm hand on his shoulder startled him out of his panicked thoughts. He spun to face his flatmate, reading the irritation in his friend's eyes. "What took you so long? Where was this pub you-" Irritation faded to concern and confusion as the detective scanned John's face, reading the fear there. "What's going on? You're panicking." John pointed to wall, where the message was scratched into the brick.

The crime scene erupted into chaos as people noticed the note. Sherlock started shouting at Lestrade and his team, throwing insults at the whole of New Scotland Yard as the crime scene technicians started analyzing.

Sherlock went off on his deductions, whirling around the body with practiced ease.

He babbled on about acids and poisons, every guess landing further away from what John knew to be the truth.

John felt a dark energy crackle around them, making his hair stand on end and adrenaline flood his veins. He turned, eyes scanning the crowd that had gathered.

His eyes met dark, empty brown ones and alarm spiked through his mind.

A girl, no older than ten, stood before the man, trembling as waves of dark energy pulsed out of her body. The man grinned, winking at John as he shoved the girl forward before flashing out of sight.

John let his wand slip the rest of the way out of his sleeve, quickly teleporting himself and the little girl away from the crowd. As he landed, he became aware of a hand gripping his elbow.

"J-John?" Panic flooded his mind as he spun to find Sherlock swaying uneasily on his feet. "J-John, w-what-" An inhuman screech cut off Sherlock's question.

John spun back to face the girl, wand drawn and Sherlock hidden behind his body.

The girl had begun changing, a thick, black cloud starting to swirl and scream around her body, which was contorted in pain.

"What- What the hell is that?" Sherlock's voice was filled with panic, but John couldn't take the time to appreciate the fact that he knew more than the genius.

"An Obscurial, a child that was forced to repress her magic until it turned into a parasite." John scanned his surroundings, an empty park with minimal cover.

"M-Magic?" John felt a flare of irritation at the incredulity in his friend's tone. He was about to respond when the girl screamed again, the pain she was feeling echoing through her cries.

He spun back to his friend, gripping Sherlock's collar and tugging the taller man out of the way and pressing him back against a wide tree.

"Stay here."

"B-But-" John silenced the man with a firm grip on his chin.

"No. Stay here Sherlock. This is beyond you, trust me. No amount of deducing is going to get you out of this." He released Sherlock and moved to step away, but was pulled back, gasping as a pair of warm lips found his own.

"Be careful." Sherlock's whisper was filled with fear, knocking away any shock John may have felt from the kiss. A smirk pulled at his lips and he leaned up, stealing another kiss from Sherlock. If this was his last day, he wasn't going to pass up the chance to snog Sherlock Bloody Holmes.

"Always, Love." He whispered, his confidence level rising alongside the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He winked at the terrified man before him before stepping away, his wand drawn and magic coursing powerfully through his veins.

The girl was almost completely changed by the time he had stepped around the tree, her body tearing itself apart to become part of the swirling black cloud that was steadily growing around her.

"What's your name Sweetheart?" John called, trying to keep his tone calm, hoping there was enough of the child left to reason with. Another scream filled the air and John adjusted his grip on his wand.

He didn't want to kill the child, there was no way he could do that again.

"Come on Sweetie, talk to me. What's your name?" The creature sent one of the old wooden benches hurdling towards his head, his own magic only just stopping the debris in time. "Damn it Kid, I know you're in there. Talk to me, please! Let me help you!" The cloud stopped swirling, the air around the child's face clearing enough for John to meet her eyes.

She was pale, thin, and almost sickly, her cheeks and eyes sunken into her skull. There were tears on her cheeks and her breath was shaky, stuttering in her throat as she floated closer to John.

"There we go. What's your name Sweetheart?" The cloud shrank slightly, and John stepped closer, keeping his wand at the ready. The girl hesitated, glancing around shyly and chewing on her bottom lip, tears still on her face. "I'm John, and that's my friend Sherlock." John pointed back to the tree his flatmate was hidden behind, his eyes never leaving the girl.

"E-Eur-Eurus." John forced a soft smile onto his lips, slowing lowering himself to his knees before the suffering child. There was a spell he knew, a dangerous one, but if he did it correctly, he could save her, could pull the corrupted magic from her body and save her life. He had to get close and keep her calm.

"Eurus? That's a lovely name. Do you like ice cream Eurus?" The girl nodded, the tears starting to dry on her cheeks as the cloud faded further. "So do I! Would you like to go get some ice cream with me and Sherlock?" The girl's face darkened and the cloud started thrumming with new energy, sending alarm through John's body.

"Mr. M said I'm not allowed to be friends with Sherlock Holmes." The air filled with a dark, crackling energy. "Mr. M says he is a bad man, that he hurts people for fun." John shook his head, trying to squash the panic starting to rise in his chest as the cloud around the girl started to grow.

The girl screamed, tugging violently at her hair and doubling over.

"No! No! Make him stop!"

"Make who stop darling? Who is hurting you?" The cloud exploded with a shockwave that sent John flying, colliding with the tree that Sherlock was hidden behind.

He felt his spine crack unpleasantly as his body wrapped around the trunk of the tree, pulling a cry of pain from his chest as he sank to the ground, clutching at his torso and fighting to breathe through the pain.

"John!" He forced his eyes open, panic lancing through his broken body as he watched Sherlock's form hover above his head.

"Sh-Sher-" A smooth, dark laugh filled the air, floating almost eerily over the screams of the Obscurial before them.

John's eyes found the empty brown ones he had seen at the crime scene.

"I must say, I'm rather disappointed. I had it backwards." The smooth voice carried through the chaos, sending waves of discomfort through John's body. "I was so hoping that the Great Detective would be the wizard, but it turns out he's just another boring muggle." The new man stepped closer to Sherlock's struggling form, an irritated smirk on his face. "How, dull."

"What do you want?" John gasped, reaching for his wand, which had been knocked from his hand. The man didn't even glance at him, his focus still on Sherlock.

"Well, I wanted to play with Sherlock Holmes, wizard to wizard, but now, I'll settle for just playing." The man drew a wand, a black, twisted thing that looked as corrupted as the man that held it.

The Obscurial continued to scream as the man leveled his wand at Sherlock.

"Crucio." Both John and Sherlock screamed as a blast of red light burst forth from the man's wand, striking Sherlock square in the chest.

John watched in horror as his best friend writhed, his back arching and bones and flesh tearing within his body as the magic ripped through him.

John knew that pain, he had felt it before, had felt his own body try to turn itself inside out.

He grabbed his wand, the soldier that had fallen in love with the mad detective pulling forth a curse he had only ever spoken once before. The curse that had gotten him discharged from his command in the army of wizards.

"Avada Kedavra!" A spark of sickly green light burst forth from his wand, lancing towards their attacker.

The man teleported away, narrowly missing the magic that should have killed him.

The magic struck Eurus in the chest, pulling a final scream from the child's chest before killing her, sending the Obscurial spiralling away, fading into the sky. Dread flooded John as he watched the child collapse, memories of the last child flashing through his mind.

Silence filled the park, broken only by the ragged breathing of Sherlock as he fell to the ground, curling in on himself.

"Oopsie! You missed!" John growled at the voice, turning to face the man that had attacked them. "Well, this has been slightly less boring than I thought, but I do have to run. Things to do, people to kill." John raised his wand to fire another shot of magic at the man, but Sherlock appeared before him, face twisted in agony and fear. "Take your pet, I think it needs water." The man sent Sherlock flying towards John, disappearing as he did.

John took care to catch his friend's body and gently lower him to the ground.

"Sherlock? Talk to me Love, Christ, I'm so sorry." When he got no response, he readied his wand, preparing to teleport them to the nearest Ministry headquarters. Sherlock needed a team of Healers to repair the damage the curse would have done.

"Sorry boys! I'm so, changeable!" The voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he felt panic lancing through his mind as he raised his eyes to find the black emptiness of a Dementor's eyes staring back at him. "I was going to let you live, but then I will have to go through this all over again, and I really don't want to. Bye!" The Dementor leaned in, and John felt the beginnings of the numbness take over.

"Expecto Patronum!" The memory John pulled forth was a simple one, but it had come to mean the world to him.

He saw himself and Sherlock, leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs at Baker Street, laughing breathlessly.

It was the moment his life had changed. The moment he had first fallen for Sherlock Holmes.

The Dementor screeched as it faded, taking with it the last of John's consciousness.

"J-John-" His world faded to black to the sound of Sherlock's pained cry.

It was nearly a month before John felt confident enough to return to Baker Street.

He had enlisted a Ministry guard to keep an eye on Sherlock, to ensure the man, whose name he had learned was Moriarty, didn't return.

The Ministry had refused to Obliviate Sherlock, due to the physiological damage done by the Cruciatus Curse, and John was dreading the conversation that he knew was coming.

He stepped into the flat, bracing himself for either a whirlwind of questions, or a pouting detective.

"John! You're finally here! Perfect! I need you to clear something up for me." He opened his mouth to speak, but no words escaped. Mainly because his lips were taken over almost instantly the lips of Sherlock Holmes.

Fire sparked over his body as he felt Sherlock's tongue gently trace along the roof of his mouth.

He pulled back from the kiss, breathless and dizzy, glancing up at his crazy flatmate in awe.

"Wh-What-"

"Please tell me you want this, John."

"O-Of course I do, fucking Git." John laughed, his head still reeling. "B-But- you aren't- you aren't mad?" The expression that John had fallen in love with crossed Sherlock's face, the one that said; 'How do you function with such a limited mind?'

"Why would I be mad? You called me Love and then saved my life. It was brilliant!" Sherlock kissed him again, pressing him back against the door and shoving one of his knees between John's thighs. "And I have some questions about the practical application of magic that I would love to explore in depth with you." John couldn't fight the bubble of laughter that rose in his chest. He shook his head, pulling his flatmate down for another filthy kiss.

"Absolute nutter you are." John whispered fondly, reveling in the happy grin Sherlock sent him as he was dragged down the hall.

Moriarty was still out there, still waiting to strike again, but John shoved those concerns to the side, letting himself be distracted by the curious Muggle genus that wanted to play.