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WHO: Sherlock Holmes & Tony Stark
TONE: Bros
RATING: PG
WHEN: Around now
WHERE: Ravenclaw 6th year boy's dorm
WHAT: Sherlock's still writing sad music. Tony's got a lot of good going for him.
STATUS: WIP

Sometimes Sherlock did not like words. They were ambiguous, they often carried more than one possible meaning and inference could always be made on honesty. It was for that reason that he preferred music when words would not do. Sometimes when he was angry he just made noise on the violin, screeching out nonsense in place of the static of his rage. When he was happy, there were many songs he knew that would either garner him praise or simply transmit that feeling of approachability and merriment. Though he knew sad songs, none of them felt quite right for this particular wordlessness. Some were sad with an underlying anger, some were sad with despair writing in between the measures. That wasn't what this was. So there was little else to do but make the sounds himself until they made sense and were expressed and existed outside himself as something tangible and real.

He spent most of his free time on it, only ceasing when demanded to by other students. He really didn't care that he was annoying them; he had more important things to do.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Okay, you do know that I don't count right? Bruce, Herbert and I have to put up with you if we want to be able to sleep at night or not, you know, try to fill you full of sand. That's a room mate thing. John has to deal with well boring Hufflepuffs in his room. He willingly subjects himself to you. How many people can you say do that. Again, I don't count because we don't get bored around each other."

He thinks for a moment.

"And just because no one's said it, doesn't mean that no one's thought it at least once. Some of the people here are strange."

"This is by far the weirdest way anyone has ever tried to cheer me up."

He shakes his head.

"Not trying to cheer you up."

He glance at the violin case, before looking back at Sherlock.

"Just presenting facts, and well, trying to keep you away from that violin."

"Your facts aren't required. I have my own. And as recent occurrences have proven, mine are far superior to yours." He sits up, pushing Tony to go away. "And you'll simply have to tolerate the violin until I'm done with my composition."

"Some facts. You're current ones a pessimistic, even for you."

Tony bats at him, refusing to move from his leaning position.

"Tolerate? I don't tolerate anything unless I have to. And there's a perfectly good astrology tower that no one likes being in that you can use."

"This is as much my room as yours. Why don't you take Bruce up to the tower and make use of it and leave me to my room?"

He shoved at him again but didn't persist much past one final push.

"Yeah, last I looked I wasn't kissing Bruce for hours on end... That would be fun though. Also, more importantly. I'm not moping."

He bats at the hand as he's pushed one more time, barely even trying to push him away, the action was almost in place of him saying 'quit it' in an annoyed tone.

"I'm not moping." He pouted as he sat back on his elbows. "Do I look sad to you?"

Tony just stares at him for a moment then gestures at his with his left hand.

"Are you really saying that, with a face like this? Because that's a mopey little pout right there. I know because I cornered the market on that skill when I was 6."

Sherlock scowled, looking away.

"Fine. I'll compose in the common room. Happy?

Sighing, Tony rolls his eyes.

"You do know it's more the fact you use this as you're only personal angst machine than the music itself, right?"

"I understand that you wish for me to find quieter outlets, yes. Seeing as this isn't habitual I can't pretend not to be annoyed at your insistence but I imagine it's as much to relieve your own ears as to be able to inform Bruce you have returned the dorm room to its previous levels of sound." Sherlock rolls his eyes at him. "White Knight syndrome is what I think it's referred to as. Primitive evolution remnant that makes you posture to impress a mate."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Except he's been the one telling me to just leave you alone, so really he's probably going to be annoyed but unsurprised I ignored him."

Tony pushes off from the post to go to his trunk and rifle around for some food, an then pulls out some trail mix and starts to eat it.

"I'm not white knighting for anyone other than my own ears."

"Well, allow me to remove the rest of my existence from your senses should the rest become too taxing on you as well." Sherlock unties his bed curtains and pulls them closed around him. Stupid Tony.

God, what he wouldn't give for... already got in trouble for it once, though.

Tony rolled his eyes but smirked at the curtains closing.

"And the award for the most dramatic exit goes to"

He comes over again and pokes his head through the curtain .

"Okay, we need to go out and do something, I think. I mean, something about the fresh air doingusboth good"

Dramatic is as dramatic does and he is more than alright with this. "I don't want fresh air." Sherlock spat, lounging face down. "I want something much stronger."

He rolled over, arms crossed over his face. "How much longer till the next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Weirdly, I don't keep track of the weekends. And really, do you think something stronger is going to put you in a certain Hufflepuff's favor? Kid seems kind of straight laced to me"

Tony says kid as if John could ever be younger than him, then shakes his head.

"It'd be easier to just hit up Gamzee for something lighter"

Sherlock let his arms drop. "Oh? How light? Mustn't be too engaging or else it would have been confiscated or am I the only person with roommates annoying enough to lead to that?"

"Non-rich kid, kind of light. He probably has other stuff just isn't dumb enough to bring it to incur his scary-ass uncle's wrath"

Tony invites himself to sit on the edge of his room mates bed.

"You're the only one bored enough, dramatic enough and rich enough to need that kind of high"

"Marijuana then? Dull. I'd prefer a stimulant, honestly. That love potion was the highest high I have ever felt. Am I really expected to just be me after that without something of a mood adjustment in between? You see how this is ridiculous, don't you?" He sat up, leaning in towards Tony. "Get me out of Hogwarts."

Tony raises an eyebrow at the demand.

"...The best I can do is get you to the Shrieking Shack. But if we get caught I won't be able to talk myself out, of it let alone both of us."

Sherlock sits up straighter, his interest piqued. "You've been inside the shrieking shack? No, never mind, just show me. I can take care of myself after you set me on the right path after which you can worry about your own hide."

"Where do you think Bruce and I go on the full moon? And please tell me that you don't have a dealer living in Hogsmead."

Despite how he acted sometimes, Tony really did like Sherlock and he didn't really want to be part of the reason the guy got expelled.

Sherlock crawled closer. "Room of Requirements seemed likely. I hadn't anticipated there would be a way into Hogsmeade from Hogwarts that is traversable year round. Tony, you're brilliant! I don't have a point of contact but I can get to a fireplace easy enough and back to my own territory. Should be able to make the trip in just a matter of hours. No one will be surprised if I miss another meal. It's perfect."

He could practically feel it in his veins already. The ecstasy of the love potion, the way it made his whole body feel, that feeling of happiness and bliss that he knew only one other source of.. and it was going to be his again. It'd been so long since he'd had a hit of his own medicine. Certainly it would make it better. It always did.

"He would have been able to get out of there too easily."

Tony sighs at how giddy Sherlock was getting.

"Look, can't we just dose you and John with love potion again? It can't be that hard to make and then I don't potentially lose a chew toy. Its the same fake feeling anyway, right?"

To be fair, if they weren't in school, Tony wouldn't even try to talk him out of it. But this was school, school was for learning, college was for drugs.