“Sherlock, come on!” John cried, attempting to tug his friend away from the fight.
Only one of the three fifth year bullies that had been hassling him since the beginning of term was left standing, and even he had bore the brunt of Sherlock anger (namely a quite spectacular pair of enlarged ears and a unusually bulbous nose.)
“One moment,” Sherlock huffed as he threw hex after hex at the older Slytherin boy, until finally he too was knocked to the ground with his fellows, one whose skin was now emblazoned with the amber and black stripes of the Hufflepuff flag and the other sporting bright green warts and an impressive pig’s tail.
“If you call John a Mudblood again that will all be permanent! And I don’t think for a moment that I’m bluffing. Madame Pomfrey herself wouldn’t know how to fix you” he snapped before finally letting John tug him away from the fray before a teacher arrived.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered once they eventually slowed their pace a little, having put a couple corridor’s distance between them and all evidence of their little exchange with the bullies.
Sherlock shrugged. “They were being idiots,” he replied simply. “And they were making you upset. You would have done the same for me.”
A small smile tugged at John’s lips.
“Yeah, I guess I would.”
“It’s what friends are for, right?”
“And we’re friends.”
“The very best.”