Highly Functioning Sociopaths ((Sherlock))

Sherlock nodded as he responded, "Understandable. To have acknowledgement of these passages can clearly work to our advantage, reason why I also explored for all of these so-called, 'secrets of the school'.". He rolled his eyes. If people were observant enough, everyone would know what a failure the builders were at their attempts to build hidden chambers and such. So it's a good thing that everyone else remained as their idiot selves, other wise he wouldn't be able to go to Hog's Head with Helena as quickly. "A table would be fine, too many people tend to hang around the bar too often in pursuit of social interaction.", he answered, standing next to Helena as he fixed his coat collar back up.

Helena nodded, "Yes, these passages are terribly easy to find, yet no one ever seems to find them with the exception of those looking for them. Most are too...dense to actually realize they're here." she commented, "You're right, a table ensures much less social interaction with unwanted guests." she agreed, walking over to one of the tables that wasn't surrounded by already occupied ones. Helena put her bag and her coat on her chair and sat down. Soon after she had sat down, a waiter came over, eager to take their order. "A butterbeer for me, please." she ordered.

"Dense is too light of a word to describe them, but I agree with you none the less." He smirked. Sherlock pulled off his coat and scarf as he followed Helena to the table, dropping them on the chair before taking his seat across from her again. He placed his books next to him as he answered the waiter, "Make that two.", then gazed around the place. "Much more hectic than how I remembered it, this pub. Haven't been here for years, and I never took upon drinking anyway. Slows down the brain and causes too many mistakes and distractions to happen."

Helena nodded, "Yes, the Hog's Head seems to have rather unusually seen a spike in business, you'd think the opposite considering the aftermath of the war." she commented. "I used to just stop by for a Butterbeer every once in a while, considering its non alcoholic, it reminds me of the muggle alternative of Root Beer." she commented, "I never really liked alcohol, it smells dreadful to begin with, and the effects are....unwanted, to say the least. I've seen my father drunk on multiple occasions, and its not a pretty sight." she continued, glancing down slightly at the mere thought of seeing her father on one of his drunken rampages, it wasn't something she wanted to relive. She looked back up at Sherlock, "I had a question for you, did you want me to come with you to the ball as just friends, or more than friends, Sherlock?" she asked, half glancing down, half looking directly at him, as if her emotions couldn't decide whether she wanted to be confident or not.

"Or the reason why business is booming is because of the war itself. It left many with psychological scars and to forget the pain of it all drinking seemed to be the best option, along with overdose and drug use. Sherlock thought out loud. He observed Helena as she spoke, mentally storing away this information as he replied, "I'm glad that you didn't follow his footsteps, to lose you would be to lose hope in humanity. And I wouldn't want your intellect, or you in general, to go through any of that disaster. Heard that the experience is terribly unpleasant." He raised an eyebrow at her question, surprised that she didn't know the answer herself. Staring at her for moment to gather his response, he suddenly leaned in to kiss her as he gentle placed his hands on each of her cheeks. It didn't last long, only a few seconds, but it was enough for him to keep record of her reaction and how her lips felt against his. Overall he enjoyed the feeling and the kiss, hoping she would allow him to kiss her again later for research or just because he wanted to. That is if she wasn't mad or upset with him. Kissing her probably wasn't a good idea, but he wasn't sure how else to tell her that she intrigued him without having words to fail him. He slowly pulled away and sat back in his chair, looking away as if nothing happened but kept glancing at Helena to see her expression. "...Does that answer your question?"

Helena nodded, "That would make sense, I suppose, drink away all of the horror that one had to go through." she commented, "Yes, my father was more of the throw things at whomever was in his path, kind of drunk." she explained. What Sherlock did next caught her by surprise, she smiled into the kiss, though it was shorter than she would have liked, she supposed he was being cautious in the possibility. She could feel the warmth rising in her cheeks as her face was shaded a brilliant crimson red, she nearly regretted her pale skin. Helena smiled warmly at Sherlock, "Yes, yes it does, and, to be completely honest, I've fancied you since we were in school, but never really had the confidence to say anything." she admitted. "So, the feeling is mutual." she finished, the smile still gracing her lips.

He felt himself mirror her smile as he replied, "Your presence was always welcomed, if not necessary back then. I enjoyed our conversations and had a greater fond of you than with others, even though we haven't had many conversations. It was... simple with you and is one of the things that I admire about you. There are many other reasons why I admire you, yet I wouldn't want to waste your time by spending the rest of the day going on about that." He looked over as the waiter began walking over with their drinks and looked back at her as he continued. "So to say "I'm glad" about this would be an understatement, but I suppose is appropriate none-the-less." He smirked then nodded at the waiter as he gave them their drinks and sipped his butterbeer.