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Sherlock grabbed the handle of the door. Locked, of course.
Sherlock grabbed the handle of the door. Locked, of course.
"How do we even get ourselves into these situations!" John grumbled as he felt his way around the darkened room.
"I have no idea." Sherlock said sarcastically.
John attempted to give Sherlock a sharp look, but it was too dark and he had no idea where the boy detective was anyway. "Well if someone-" he snapped pointedly. "didn't keep insulting the most powerful Slytherin of the century, maybe we would have a normal school year for once!"
"The most powerful?" Sherlock laughed. "As if."
"No!" yelled John. "He is! His family owns billions of dollars and half the school is being blackmailed by him, including the teachers! And you have the audacity to make him your sworn enemy!"
"I mean-" John waved an arm at their surroundings. "You told the teacher he was cheating in Quidditch and now look where we are!"
"He was. But you can reserve the right to an "I told you so" if it makes you feel better."
John took a deep breath. "Alright. Moving on, how do you think we'll get out of here?"
"Kicking down the door, obviously." Sherlock said.
"Obviously." John muttered under his breath. "Why d'ya have to be so- pretentious about it? Just-" he coughed. "Nevermind. Get me out of here and I'll stop complaining. I've got a terrible headache."
"Sherlock?"
John began to panic, his breath ragged and his hands shaking as he felt around in the dark. "SHERLOCK?"
(Sherlock was dead. The role play was over. John died there, alone in that cell. Moriarty had finally succeeded.)
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