Hello everyone out there! Yes, I am still alive. We go through this every time that I post something new, don't we? XD Well, to be honest, I've really turned my fanfiction posting over to deviantART, mostly because of all the Johnlock stories I've been doing, so I kind of forget about this place sometimes :( But the good news is that now I have this story! This is a story that I wrote out of an RP, much like IOU Much More but with a lot more editing and changes. And I've already posted it to deviantART but I wanted to share it here too since I know there are tons of people on this site that would enjoy it.

As for other stories...Well, everything is on the backburner right now. I have so many other active ideas at the moment, and things that I've promised to do for my other audience that I have simply not had time to think about anything relating to old ideas that I've wanted to finish. That doesn't mean they'll never happen! But it might be a very long time before they do...I hope you guys don't hate me for that T_T

Anyway, I absolutely love this story, and I hope that you all will too. It's sort of a two arc story, the first arc taking place during Sherlock and John's time at school and the second after they graduate. It turns from a Potterlock story into a very deep Johnlock story, and I hope that you enjoy it. I've already got all 12 chapters completely edited and ready to post, so I'll be updating promptly every Monday.

And I think that's it! Follow me at sxs-fanfics on tumblr to get updates when new chapters are posted, and you can also see things about my other stories on dA (and lots of Johnlock fanart that I've reblogged, lol). Please read and review and love this story, and I'll see you next Monday! Love ya!

~SXS

Disclaimer: Any and all related elements from the Harry Potter or Sherlock universe are the sole property of their creators. I do not take any ownership of anything except for the ideas of the storyline.

Sherlock settled himself into an empty compartment towards the back of the Hogwarts Express, opening this year's Potions textbook. His cat, sleek black with bright amber eyes, was curled in his lap. Absently stroking him, he ignored Mycroft waving to him from outside the window as the train started off. Soon they were past the platform and out in the open.

This was the sixth year in a row that Sherlock found himself sitting alone on the journey to school. And it would be the sixth year in a row that he found himself sitting alone in all his classes. And in the Great Hall. And the common room. In general, Sherlock tended to spend his time alone, only ever accompanied by Yorick (the cat) and his thoughts. It wasn't exactly an undesirable existence, but sometimes it was inconvenient. If merely for the fact that in spite of his loneliness, he still garnered attention. Usually in the form of taunts and stares and whispered criticisms. But he only had two years to go at this point. Nothing that he couldn't handle.

Just then there was a knock on the door of his compartment. A short blonde in Gryffindor robes was standing outside. "Do you mind if I sit in here?" he asked. "Everywhere else is full." Sherlock looked at him out of the corner of his eye before shrugging and motioning him in. He recognised him from a shared Charms class between the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors in second year, but didn't remember his name.

"Thank you," the boy said, settling down on the bench across from Sherlock. "I couldn't find a compartment that wasn't full." Sherlock didn't say anything, and an awkward pause ensued, until the boy decided to speak again. "I'm John Watson."

Ah, yes, now Sherlock knew who he was. John Watson, sixth year Gryffindor, keeper for the Quidditch team, relatively popular, friendly to everyone regardless of their house. Well, he was sure that wouldn't apply to him too, but he couldn't be rude and not introduce himself. "Sherlock Holmes," he said softly, waiting for the reaction that he got from everyone else.

But to his surprise, John held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Sherlock," he said with a smile.

Sherlock arched an eyebrow, but shook his hand nonetheless. "Likewise." His cat leaned up to sniff John's arm as it was stretched over before rubbing it's head against his wrist.

"Why hello there." John smiled and turned his hand, scratching just behind the cat's ears. Yes, he knew Sherlock's reputation. Ravenclaw sixth year, general loner, haughty and egotistical, thought by some to be involved in Dark Arts, or just crazy in general. But John didn't allow preconceived notions to rule his mind when it came to meeting new people. Sometimes, you just had to dig a little deeper.

"Interesting. Yorick doesn't always take well to new people," Sherlock said, watching the cat interacting with John. So the rumors were true, it seemed, that John was easily liked by everyone. A twitch of a smile played on his lips. He'd soon see just how far the Gryffindor's nice streak went. "Muggleborn, eh?"

"I am," John said looking up at Sherlock, "And does that bother you?"

"No, just pointing out what I saw," he said with a shrug.

John nodded, and Sherlock was surprised that he didn't ask how he knew. But before he could say anything Yorick jumped across the small aisle to settle in John's lap. The other boy blinked and looked at Sherlock. "Does he do that often?"

"No. It's best to leave him where he decides to sit, though. Hope you don't mind." Sherlock wondered what about this John Watson had Yorick acting this way. Usually with strangers he was either indifferent or dangerous.

"Sounds like most cats I've come across." John chuckled softly. He smiled at Sherlock. Everything about him was calm, relaxed, content. There was this calm that just seemed to exude from John. It was actually quite nice, if he was to be honest.

In fact, Sherlock felt his urge to try to mess with John start to disappear. This other boy confused him. He didn't act the same as the other students he had encountered. Then again, that might just be because they were interacting with Sherlock, who usually deduced the last person they'd snogged with and then got punched in the face. It was only a matter of time before John did the same.

Another silence ensued, this one a little more comfortable. John looked out the window of their compartment watching the scenery go with a small smile on his face. He then looked over to Sherlock again. "What classes are you taking this year?"

Sherlock really hadn't expected them to keep talking. He'd never been a great conversationalist- he'd never had anyone to talk to- and he was sure that John would soon deem him a freak and leave like anyone else. But for the time being, he supposed he would be polite and play along. "N.E.W.T. level for Potions, Charms, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, and Defense," he said and ticked them off on his fingers.

"N.E.W.T level Potions, Defense, Herbology, History of Magic and Charms," John replied, not even waiting for Sherlock's question. Sherlock probably wouldn't have asked it anyway.

"We'll have three classes together then, it seems." Not that it really mattered that much to Sherlock. Or did it? He supposed he should try to find out. After all, it had been about ten minutes since John came in, and he was still sitting here and in good humour, so perhaps this was his one and only chance. He swept his eyes over him once and said, "You were running late this morning."

John smiled. "I was running just a bit late this morning. How did you know?"

Sherlock let his lips twitch up at one side. Here it goes. "You didn't finish combing your hair all the way and there's a bit of jam staining your finger where you grabbed the toast that your mother already made for you as you ran out the door. Not to mention that most everyone else had already boarded by the time you arrived, otherwise you would have easily found a seat, popular bloke like yourself. All that and the fact that your jumper is on backwards." Sherlock smirked, awaiting his reaction. This would determine just how nice Mr. John Watson truly was.

John looked down, pulling out the collar of his jumper to discover that it was indeed backwards. Then he looked at his fingers, and then looked up, trying to smooth out his hair. Finally, he looked back at Sherlock and his face broke into a smile. "That was fantastic!"

That was certainly not the response that Sherlock expected and his eyebrows shot up into his fringe. "Well," he said, unsure how he should reply. "Um...Thank you. That's not what people usually say."

"What do they normally say?" John asked. He leaned his head to once side, studying Sherlock. He actually looked genuinely confused, as if he had no idea what anyone else could possibly say about what he'd just witnessed.

So Sherlock decided to enlighten him. "Piss off," he said with a grin.

That got John to start laughing. "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant."

Sherlock found himself laughing a little as well. He hadn't laughed in quite a while, and John's loud, almost jolly laughter was contagious. It felt refreshing. Heartening. Finally, the ice had broken between them.

After a few moments, John let his laughter fade and he relaxed back against the seat. "We had Charms together in second year," he said. "I remember when you told the Professor that she was all wrong."

"It wasn't my fault that she didn't know the proper wand movement," Sherlock said, remembering that day. "The only reason she gave me a detention for it was because she was still sore over Professor Lockhart rejecting her advances." He snorted out through his nose.

John laughed again. "You're absolutely brilliant." As far as Sherlock could tell, because he was quite adept with that sort of thing, John wasn't lying.

Sherlock smiled and said, "You're doing that out loud, you know. Though it's fine, please continue." This was the nicest anyone had ever treated him before and frankly he found himself warming up to it.

"I know I am. And it's the truth," John stated. "I think you're brilliant." He still had a huge grin on his face.

"Thank you," Sherlock said. This was strange, unexpected, and he wasn't sure what was going to happen. Were they going to become friends? Or would it all end with the train ride when they reached the station? He hadn't had friends before, or even really talked to anyone, so he didn't know for sure. All he knew is that some small part of him sort of...hoped.

John just smiled and then looked down at Yorick. "I've heard rumors about you, how you hate everyone and think we're beneath you, but I don't believe it for a moment. I don't think that anyone has really ever given you a chance before."

"Well, you would be half right," Sherlock said. "No one has ever given me a chance, but if they had they would find themselves correct. I do think I'm more intelligent than everyone. That's not to say, though, that I think others are beneath me. There are many things in which I do not excel, where others do."

John seemed to mull this over for a moment before answering. "I knew you were smart, our Charms class proved that. But if you really thought others beneath you, well... You wouldn't be talking to me," he pointed out, "Say, if you have any inclination to come to a Quidditch game, you should come see one of Gryffindor's," he suggested.

"Quidditch...Not really my thing." Sherlock resisted the urge to scrunch his nose, because he didn't want to seem ungrateful for the offer. In truth, he really was. John asking him to come see a match must mean that he wanted to spend more time with him, right? He didn't want to seem too eager or desperate though. He did have a sense of pride. "The crowds are always very loud and there really isn't a point. I would rather take advantage of the castle being empty to study in some peace."

John laughed at that. "The offer is always open. But I do understand." He couldn't help the smile that seemed to be permanent on his face.

Looking at John, Sherlock couldn't help the twitch of his lips into another smile. Just then, the trolley woman knocked on their compartment door. "Anything boys?" she asked.

Sherlock stood. "I'll have a few chocolate frogs and a cauldron cake. Would you like something, John?"

John was quiet for a moment. "I'll have a cornish pastie please." He said, "And a couple chocolate frogs as well." He gave the Trolly woman a smile.

She handed over the snacks and Sherlock gave her a few coins before sitting again. "Here you are," he said, handing John his. Sherlock opened one chocolate frog, keeping a good hold on it while he examined the card. "Another Dumbledore. Dull." He bit the frog's head off to stop it's wriggling.

He chuckled a bit at that and then began to eat his pastie. "Who are you looking for?"

"Ironically, Rowena Ravenclaw. By luck of the draw I haven't come across her yet, and I haven't had anyone to trade with." Sherlock opened another frog. "Godric Gryffindor." He shook his head, eating that frog as well.

John opened one of his chocolate frogs and peered at the card. He grinned and then handed it to Sherlock. "Here, you can have it."

Sherlock looked at the card and there was Rowena Ravenclaw staring up at him. "Incredible...One frog. Thank you." He took the offered card and handed the two he had already opened over.

"Thank you. I didn't have Godric Gryffindor." John took them, a smile on his face.

"Lucky for both of us then." Sherlock bit into his cauldron cake as John took another bite of his pastie. Yes, maybe it really was lucky for the both of them.

It wasn't long after that they arrived at Hogsmeade station. Sherlock had changed into his robes and gathered his things together. "Come, Yorick." He patted his lap and the cat mewled and hopped over to him.

"Well, perhaps I'll see you around school," John said as he gathered his things and after changing into his robes. He opened the compartment door and was met with a few greetings by other students in the area. John waved to a few of them before smiling back at Sherlock. "It was nice meeting you." Then he left the compartment.

"You too," Sherlock said softly, after John had already gone. So that was it then. Especially since they were in different houses, they probably wouldn't ever speak again. It doesn't matter, he thought. Life goes on. Getting himself ready, he stood up and left the train.